The Legend of the King's Three Sons

The Legend of the King's Three Sons

Once, in a far northern land, there lived a king and queen. They ruled wisely, and people said that even the harsh winds blew more gently in their kingdom.

The king had three sons: Osric, the eldest; Edric, the middle brother; and Frithiof, the youngest. Their cousin Isolde, orphaned as a small child, grew up at the palace too. The king and queen loved her like their own daughter, and the boys had been her closest friends since childhood.

Years passed. The children grew up, and each brother realised that his feelings for Isolde had become more than childhood friendship.

When the king learned that all three wanted to marry Isolde, he thought about it.

“It is not for me to decide for her,” he said. “Isolde has the right to choose herself.”

But Isolde only smiled sadly.

“You three are very dear to me,” she answered. “I do not want any enmity to arise between you because of me.”

Then the king suggested another plan.

“Let each of you go out into the world and bring back the thing that you consider most valuable. Not the most expensive in gold, but the most useful and most wonderful. In a year you will meet at the hunting lodge near the capital.”

So the three brothers went their separate ways.

Osric traveled for a long time until he saw a strange spyglass at a great fair.

“What is so special about it?” he asked the seller.

“Look through it, and you’ll see any place you think of—even beyond seas and mountains.”

Osric saw at once how many troubles such a thing could avert. He bought the magic spyglass and set off for home.

Edric, meanwhile, found himself in another country, where he saw a small silver shield with runes around the edge in the market.

“This is not a battle shield,” the old master explained. “If you stand on it and name the place you want to go, it will carry you through the air faster than the fastest horse.”

Edric tried it. The shield lifted him from the ground, carried him gently above the rooftops, and brought him back.

“This is truly a miracle!” exclaimed the prince and bought the shield.

And Frithiof in the third kingdom came across a fruit shop. Among the pears, grapes and golden melons lay a single large apple - crimson, with green and gold stripes.

“Sell it to me,” Frithiof asked.

The shopkeeper shook his head.

“This is no ordinary apple. It was once given to my ancestor. If a sick person holds it, their strength returns.”

Frithiof immediately thought about how many people could be helped.

“That’s exactly why I need it,” he said.

The shopkeeper saw that the prince spoke sincerely, and agreed to give him the apple.

A year passed quickly. The three brothers met at the agreed place and began to show their treasures.

“And is everything well at home?” Frithiof suddenly asked.

Osric raised the magic spyglass to his eye and thought of the palace.

His face changed.

“Isolde is ill. Very ill. Doctors are beside her, but no one knows how to help.”

“Then there is no time for horses!” exclaimed Edric.

The brothers stepped onto the magic shield. Edric named the palace, and the shield rose into the sky.

The wind whistled in their ears, forests, rivers, and snowy hills flickered below. In a matter of minutes, the brothers were at the windows of the palace.

Frithiof ran to Isolde and placed the magic apple in her hand.

At first, nothing happened. Then the girl took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and smiled.

“You have returned…”

Everyone was overjoyed.

But now a new question arose: whose gift was the most valuable?

The king called a council.

“Without the spyglass, we would never have known she was in danger,” one adviser said.

“Without the shield, the brothers wouldn’t have reached her in time,” another argued.

“And without the apple, Isolde would not have recovered,” added the third.

All three brothers helped equally.

Then the king proposed an archery competition. But even here it was not so simple. Osric's arrow fell not far from the target. Edric's flew further. And Frithiof's arrow disappeared so far that no one could find it.

It seemed that Edric had won, and soon he and Isolde decided to be married.

Frithiof did not argue. But his heart was heavy, and he went on a journey.

Some time later, in a distant forest, he happened to spot his arrow lodged in an old oak. It had truly flown much farther than the others.

"So I won," he said quietly. "But now it changes nothing."

Frithiof did not want to ruin the happiness of his brother and Isolde. He went on.

One day the horsemen brought him to the city ruled by the young queen Hildegard. She greeted the traveler warmly and said:

“I know your story. You could have returned and claimed your prize, but you did not. That says more about you than any victory in a competition.”

Frithiof and Hildegard talked a lot, laughed, rode horses and consulted about the affairs of the kingdom. Over time, they realized that they wanted to be together.

So Frithiof found not a lost prize, but a person with whom he himself had chosen to share his life.

Several years passed. Frithiof's mother died, and his father married a second time. The new queen was called Brunhilda. She was domineering and very afraid of losing her influence with the king.

Gradually, Brunhilda began to whisper to him that Frithiof supposedly wanted to take the throne. The old king, blinded by her charms and anxiety, believed her.

He summoned his son and gave him three almost impossible tasks.

“In a year, bring a tent that can hold a hundred people, but that can be folded in the palm of your hand. Bring water that restores strength to the sick. And bring a man unlike any we have seen before.”

Frithiof returned to Hildegard in distress.

“We’ll manage,” she said. “One step at a time.”

The magic tent turned out to be an heirloom in her godmother’s family. It was light as a cobweb, yet opened as wide as a great hall.

Frithiof set off for a distant valley to fetch healing water. The spring was guarded by wild beasts, but Hildegard gave him baskets of fragrant food. While the animals feasted far from the path, Frithiof gathered crystal clear water and did not harm anyone.

The most difficult task remained the third one.

Then Hildegard smiled.

“I have a brother Randur. He lives on a remote island. He is very tall, has three eyes and moves with great leaps, leaning on a long pole. People are often afraid of someone who is not like them. But Randur is kind, intelligent and fair.”

Randur agreed to help.

When Frithiof returned to his father's kingdom, people gathered in a large square.

First he unfolded the tent. A hundred warriors sheltered beneath it from the rain, with room to spare.

Then he showed the healing water. The king took a sip and felt his fatigue recede.

Finally, Randur arrived at the square with huge leaps.

The people gasped. And Brunhilda suddenly turned pale.

Randur looked at her with his three eyes and said quietly:

“I see spells hidden beneath another face.”

He touched his pole to the ground. A deep ringing sounded, as though ice had cracked beneath a mountain. Brunhilda’s spells shattered. Before everyone stood a giantess and sorceress who had deceived the king for months.

But as soon as her secret was revealed, she lost her power. The wind caught her black cloak, a fog swirled around her, and Brunhilda disappeared behind the distant mountains. Since then, she has not been seen in the kingdom again.

The king seemed to have awakened from a long sleep. He realized how unfairly he had treated his son.

“Frithiof, forgive me,” he said. “I let fear speak instead of reason.”

“The main thing is that now you see the truth again,” the son replied.

Frithiof sent word to Hildegard, and soon she came to him. Randur returned to his island, but from then on his name was spoken not with fear, but with respect.

The old king lived in peace for many more years, next to his children and grandchildren. And Frithiof and Hildegard ruled together, remembering three things that their adventures had taught them: a wonderful gift becomes truly valuable only when it helps someone; victory does not always mean happiness; and appearance never tells everything about a person.

When wind rose over the northern hills, people in the old palace said it was rustling the folds of that same magic tent, reminding them that even the hardest task grows easier with trusted companions beside you.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨