A princess lived in the highest tower of the northernmost island of the great Island Nations. This island was the smallest and the coldest of the isles, where the Lady Night would come to rest her weary legs for many weeks in the winter, and where all the towers glittered like icicles. Every winter, before the Lady Night spread her cloak to sleep, the most beautiful woman on the island would vanish, never to be seen again. It was said the Winter King carried them away and turned them to ice, so that their beauty would remain with him eternally in his palace. When the King and Queen of the northernmost island bore a girlchild, they prayed for her to be homely. But the child grew more beautiful with every passing day, until the royal family could see there was no hope for her. She would be such a beauty as to outshine all others as the sun outshone the stars.

The King and the Queen brought all the greatest stonemasons and metalworkers from the whole of their small island and set them to work building the highest tower in the land. They brought the greatest silversmiths in the kingdom and all the silver of the island to the tower, and thus the tower was filled from top to bottom with silver bells, and the princess’ room had silver bells on every wall. The Winter King would not be able to pass the silver bells, for if he tried they would all be set to chiming, a harmony which the howling Winter King could not abide. The princess was taken to the top of the tower before she saw her tenth birthday, and she lived there for many years. At the slightest tinkling of a silver bell all the guards of the palace would come running, and there were no other silver bells in the kingdom. Every man and woman of the small island knew the tinkling of silver bells meant the Winter King was about his mischief, but that very same sound meant they were safe, as he made his mischief in the princess’ tower.

The rumors of the princess’ great beauty leapt from lips to ears and from markets to farms, so that her beauty was known across the land. One young boy, simple by his nature, and apprenticed to a silversmith for his trade, heard one such a tale of the princess’ beauty as they worked. “I tell you, my lad,” said the old silversmith, “no mirror can be polished bright enough to reflect her beauty. When she looks upon them it as if the silver were rusted tin, so much does it pale by comparison. And the bells! What use have we for silver bells anymore. All a man need do is stand below her window a fortnight and he is sure to hear the princess’ laugh. The purest silver bell sounds like naught more than the smith’s hammer against his anvil after hearing such a laugh.”

The boy was simple by his nature and thus he took the old silversmith at his word, and went to stand below the princess’ window, which was so high he could only see it at night where it became the brightest star in the sky. He waited each night before going to work all day, but the only sounds he heard were the tinkling of silver bells. On the third night the boy said to himself, “This wait is interminable. I have had my fill of silver bells, and I must hear her laughter or my heart shall burst.” Having become determined, the boy whistled a jaunty tune such as he had heard the birds sing on the first morning of the spring, far beyond the palace gates. It did not take very long for his tune to reach the princess’ window, and in a moment he heard her laugh, just as melodiously the old silversmith had said.

The boy had heard her laugh, but rather than being satisfied he found he desired nothing else but to look upon her face. Night after night he returned to whistle a tune to the princess’ window, listening for her laughter as a dying merchant will cling to his last penny. Thus it happened that on the third night her voice called down to him, “Who is it that so diligently whistles below my window every night all the birdsongs I cannot hear in the day?”

His heart tried to leap into his throat, but the boy swallowed it down and spoke in a clear voice to the window above: “I am your knight, fair princess, and I have come to protect you from the Winter King!”

“Oh, are you?” she replied, and he heard laughter in her voice, but it was not unkind. “Well, if you are my knight, you may climb the stairs of my tower. But if you serve the Winter King I think you will find the bells drive you quite away, and even if they do not, only the pure of heart pass them without a sound.”

“I shall be up to see you in a trice!” said the simple boy. He ran up the stairs of the tower two steps at a time. There were no guards in the tower, for they all knew the bells would warn of trouble. There were only a few lights in the tower, but the boy did not stumble in the darkness. The door to the princess’ room was open, and she sat by the window. She looked out over the city, for she was still waiting to hear the chimes of her silver bells.

“My lady,” said the boy.

The princess turned with a start, and the boy saw she was more beautiful than any rumors. He saw truth in her eyes, and found the beauty therein greater than any other beauty he could conceive. She saw honesty and courage in his eyes, as she had seen in the eyes of no other living man. The young princess and the simple boy fell in love immediately. He came to see her every day, and they spent many long afternoons watching the lives they could see from her window. The princess asked the boy to tell her of life beyond the palace, and he told her of all the marshes and forests and lakes he had seen. “If you wish, I will take you into the forest and we shall watch the sun set over the ocean,” he would say. But every time the princess had to refuse. “I cannot leave the tower,” she would tell the boy. “For if I leave the Winter King shall snatch me away.”

As it happened, the Winter King had heard rumors of how beautiful the princess of the Northern Island had grown. Many times he had sent his servants to carry off the beautiful princess, but each time the chimes drove them back. In those days the four Winds were all very young, else the South Wind should have merely drowned the tower, the East Wind should have torn it asunder, or the North Wind should have cut it to pieces. The West Wind was as gentle as he ever would be, and thus the Winter King had no use for him. Yet one day as he looked into the icy mirror in the heart of his castle, he saw the princess’ knight was not unlike the West Wind in his aspect. The Winter King immediately hatched a plan from his cold heart, and he sent the West Wind to the princess’ tower.

The West Wind hid himself away in the shadows below the princess’ tower until he saw the simple boy leaving, as rosy dusk painted the sky. With only a gentle sigh, the West Wind crept out of the shadows and whispered up to the princess’ window in his soft voice: “Please, my princess, I have slipped and fallen on the ice below your tower. Come and help me up or I shall freeze to death in the night.” Now, because the West Wind always carries the words of lovers, even his faintest whisper reached the princess’ ears, and it was as if the voice of the boy spoke to her. She did not hesitate, but flew from her room, down the dark steps, and out of the tower to see what had befallen the boy to whom her heart belonged.

The instant her foot, still shod in slippers, touched the cobblestones outside the tower, the East Wind rushed through the streets and swept the princess into his arms. He lifted her high into the air and carried her off, followed by his brother the West Wind. The two Winds rushed through the forest as quickly as they were able, but the branches soon made them tired, and they were young Winds besides. They stopped to rest, and the East Wind immediately fell into a deep and dreamless slumber. But the West Wind was not so tired as his brother, for he did not rush furiously into every crevice, or try to push aside every tree in his path. The princess could see the West Wind was gentle, for the truth in her eyes sought out the truth of all she beheld, and so seeing she spoke with him.

“Please, gentle wind of the west, aid my escape. You know not what evil designs the Winter King has for me. He will turn me to ice, and I will be cold and unmoving the rest of my days. I beg of you, gentle wind, spare me from this fate.”

Well, the West Wind was shocked to hear such a thing. He could see the truth in the princess’ eyes (as all could), and so he knew he must aid her escape, for he could no more force any evil on another living soul than the Lady Night could force the sun not to rise. He freed the princess from her bindings, but said to her, “My brother will pursue you to the ends of the earth. I will change you into a swan so that you may find the arms of your true love. Only then may he be bested in single combat.” Speaking thus, the West Wind changed the princess into a swan, and she flew away.

When the East Wind awoke, he was furious with his brother. He battered and beat the West Wind until he was barely a gust, but there was no helping it. The princess was gone and they had nothing to do but return to the Winter King with only empty hands and failure.

When dawn found the princess’ tower, the young boy was there to greet the first warm touch of the sun. He rushed up the stairs as he always did, but the princess’ room was empty. He knew the cold in his heart was the Winter King, as surely as he knew there could be no other reason for the princess’ absence. Ice in his blood made him shiver and grow fearful, for he was a mere silversmith’s apprentice, but the boy made his decision in seven breaths. “Silversmith be my trade, but for my princess I am a knight. I will seek her out and take her from whosoever holds her against her will.”

The boy took down all the silver bells from the princess’ chamber, and from these he made himself a suit of armor. He took down the silver bells from the stairwell and hammered these into a shining silver sword and helmet. “I shall find her in the north,” he said, and set off from the tower. Every step set his armor chiming, and each swing of his arms was like the pealing of bells. He made his way through the streets about the palace, bells heralding his passage, and with every house he passed men and women would look at one another and say, “The Winter King is making mischief again.”

The boy walked into the forest, ringing and chiming until a small fox crept onto his path. “Your armor makes a lot of noise,” said the fox. “How shall you ever find your way through such a symphony?” The boy bowed to the fox and said, “My armor sounds the death knell for the servants of the Winter King, and it will find them soon enough.” With these words, he walked on and the fox vanished into the woods.

The boy walked on, chiming and ringing, until a great wolf stepped onto his path. “Your armor makes a lot of noise,” said the wolf. “How am I to hunt during such a frightful symphony?” The boy bowed to the wolf and said, “My armor sounds the death knell for the servants of the Winter King, and I shall hunt them down soon enough.” With these words, he walked on and the wolf returned to the woods, assured of the folly of men.

The boy came to a lake as the sun began to fall towards the horizon, and on the lake he saw a swan. He went to drink by the lakeshore, expecting the swan should chastise his musical armor for scaring the fish, but she did not. The boy saw, in fact, that the swan was quite sad and so he asked, “Are the chimes of my armor so very mournful swan, that you cannot even chastise me as the wolf and fox both did?”

“They are not mournful,” said the swan. “They remind me of the silver bells in the room where I once lived. They remind me that I shall never see my true love again.”

Hearing these words, the boy recognized the princess immediately and cast off his helmet. The princess swan was overjoyed, and flew into her love’s arms. The instant her feathers touched the silver of his armor, the West Wind’s spell was broken and she became a lover again. “I had thought I would never lay eyes on you again,” she said. “But now we must hurry, for the servant of the Winter King will know the spell is broken. Listen! He comes!”

And it was so. A great howling rose from the east and the branches of all the trees rattled like bones. The East Wind roared from the forest, tearing branches from trees and hurling leaves about the boy and the princess. “I have found you out at last, fair princess! Now you shall belong to the Winter King!”

The East Wind reached out to pluck the princess from the ground, but the boy stepped between them and struck the East wind with his silver sword. It made a sound like a churchbell and the East Wind howled in agony at the perfect note and pitch. The boy struck again, and a second chime joined the first. The East Wind struck at the boy’s armor, but this lead only to a third chime. Over and over the boy struck the East Wind until the Wind was exhausted and nothing was left of it.

“I promised you I would show you the sun setting over this lake,” the boy said to the princess, and so I have. He took her hands in his and, as the sun set and the bells chimed, they swore love eternal to one another, and the Winter King’s power over the princess was broken forever.

They returned to the palace together, where they were married, and the princess could travel anywhere she wished on the island. The city was strung with silver bells, and the servants of the Winter King never troubled another girl of the Northern Island, for the bells still chime through all the city’s streets to this day.