The Lord of False Gold

Once, my father captured the king’s attention with his wild tales. He told of his daughter who consorted with the fey and gave them her soul for the power to pull gold from the air. I could not count on my father to protect me and so he did not. He sold me for a payment I never knew.

The guards locked me in a room larger than my life was long and taller than the dreams I feared to have. Within minutes, a small man wearing green silk with red opened the locked door and walked past the unseeing guards. “What would you give,” he asked, “for your life?”

I offered all a woman’s worth. I offered my ability to produce an heir. I’d thought the debt would be paid with an empty womb; instead it was pain and blood. Time and time and time, I bled. I did not think my husband would care, for he had illegitimate heirs. He had bought me for his hunger, though, and now he had hunger of a different kind.

I could not count on my husband to protect me and so he did not. While he worked to buy approval of the clergy and the people, he put me in a dirty cell with a locked door. I called out to the man in green silk and red. I told him he could take his debt from my husband, for what did I have that was not first his?

He walked with me through the locked door and past the unseeing guards. Back to the feet of the king.

“King,” he said, “See me.”

The king saw and gave his attention. He called the man “leprechaun” and, “Lord of False Gold” and asked what brought him.

“I offer you an heir, legitimately born,” he said, “from the womb of the wife your people love. What will you give me, O King, to pay for the magic I weave?"

Raising an eyebrow, the king promised his wife's laughter.

The leprechaun stood a moment, rubbing a bit of the red cloth he wore between his fingers. Finally, he said, "I accept your payment, King Over Men. Your wife will never laugh again. Now, what will you give me, O King, to pay for the promise I keep?”

In his indifferent drawl, he promised his wife's smile.

“I accept your payment, King of Countless Gold. Now, what will you give me, O King, to pay for something come from nothing?”

Flashing his teeth, the king promised the leprechaun all of the suffering he would otherwise face.

Slowly, the leprechaun smiled. He said, “I accept, King of Naught, and I will take your suffering. You will have an infant son, and from his birth you will not suffer another day.”

I could not count on the leprechaun to protect me, for his gold is false, or so the king had just declared.

“Ah,” said the leprechaun, as if hearing my thoughts, and at last I was seen. “Your debt is paid with your laughter and smile. Your life is yours, as you wished.”

I knew it was not.

Three seasons went by and I held a son with eyes as green as clover, wrapped in cloths of silken red. His father smiled at the baby in his arms. I felt no joy.

“I have come to collect,” the leprechaun said, from the midst of the crowd of midwives. “King of Naught, you have no more days to suffer.” He stamped his foot and the king fell dead.

“Little Prince of Men,” crooned the leprechaun, picking up my son from the fallen king’s arms, “Heir to a Throne of Dismay.” He stroked my infant’s head, still red from birth.

“You bartered for your life, O Queen," he said to me, "but the child was given to the king. He belongs now to me.” And the leprechaun, in a flourish of red and green and with my babe in his arms, walked away.

Story Information ▼

This was written for "Horror Writing Contest" , written for the March, 2024 prompt to write about an evil leprechaun. The word count is 666 words. It has also been entered as an entry into the lovely "The Contest Challenge"  as a late entry for February 2024. Do check this one out, it's a lot of fun!