“Here comes my own true love”, she said.
Then he took the pot of ointment and rubbed himself on the leg, and after that he rubbed all the wounded, and so they all got well again in a moment.
So he got the Princess to wife; but when he went down into the stable where his horse was on the day the wedding was to be, there it stood so dull and heavy, and hung its ears down, and wouldn’t eat its corn. So when the young king—for he was now a king, and had got half the kingdom—spoke to him, and asked what ailed him, the Horse said:
“Now I have helped you on, and now I won’t live any longer. So just take the sword, and cut my head off.”
“No, I’ll do nothing of the kind”, said the young king; “but you shall have all you want, and rest all your life.”
“Well”, said the Horse, “If you don’t do as I tell you, see if I don’t take your life somehow.”
So the king had to do what he asked; but when he swung the sword and was to cut his head off, he was so sorry he turned away his face, for he would not see the stroke fall. But as soon as ever he had cut off the head, there stood the loveliest Prince on the spot where the horse had stood.
“Why, where in all the world did you come from?” asked the king.
“It was I who was a horse”, said the Prince; “for I was king of that land whose king you slew yesterday. He it was who threw this Troll’s shape over me, and sold me to the Troll. But now he is slain I get my own again, and you and I will be neighbour kings, but war we will never make on one another.”
And they didn’t either; for they were friends as long as they lived, and each paid the other very many visits.