But when the lad asked if he could get a place in the king’s household, the king was so glad he was ready to jump and dance as he stood on the steps.
Well, they said, perhaps he might get a place there.
“Aye”, said the lad, “but I must have good stable-room for my horse, and fodder that one can trust.”
Yes! he should have meadow-hay and oats, as much as Dapple could cram, and all the other knights had to lead their horses out of the stable that Dapplegrim might stand alone, and have it all to himself.
But it wasn’t long before all the others in the king’s household began to be jealous of the lad, and there was no end to the bad things they would have done to him, if they had only dared. At last they thought of telling the king he had said he was man enough to set the king’s daughter free—whom the Troll had long since carried away into the hill—if he only chose. The king called the lad before him, and said he had heard the lad said he was good to do so and so; so now he must go and do it. If he did it, he knew how the king had promised his daughter and half the kingdom, and that promise would be faithfully kept; if he didn’t, he should be killed.
The lad kept on saying he never said any such thing; but it was no good—the king wouldn’t even listen to him; and so the end of it was he was forced to say he’d go and try.
So he went into the stable, down in the mouth and heavy-hearted, and then Dapplegrim asked him at once why he was in such dumps.
Then the lad told him all, and how he couldn’t tell which way to turn:
“For as for setting the Princess free, that’s downright stuff.”
“Oh! but it might be done, perhaps”, said Dapplegrim. “I’ll help you through; but you must first have me well shod. You must go and ask for ten pound of iron and twelve pound of steel for the shoes, and one smith to hammer and another to hold.”