The Russian Story Book 10

The Russian Story Book 10

These things were done in exact accordance with the wishes of quiet

Dunai, who then left the palace in the company of Nikitich. In the

courtyard they found awaiting them two shaggy colts, fresh from the

steppe, which had never borne saddle or bridle. Upon these they fitted

plaited bridles of many-coloured silks and saddle-cloths of silk,

not for youthful vanity but for ease to their steeds. Over these they

laid thick felts, and then their saddles of stout leather secured by

twelve girths with silver buckles, while the buckles of the stirrups

were of fine ruddy gold.

 

Then they dressed themselves in silken robes and Saracen caps, took up

their maces of steel from Damascus, their mighty bows, and their silken

whips, and, mounting their frisky chargers, rode quickly through the

narrow streets of Kiev city. Before long they came to the outskirts and

then out upon the open plain, when they urged on their shaggy steeds,

spurring them gently and persuading them further with their whips of

braided silk. Past deep lakes they rode and through dense forests,

crashing through the undergrowth where the hoof of horse had never

trodden, until they came at last, and after a long journey, to the

brave land of Lithuania and the royal palace of its King.

 

Quiet Dunai asked no leave of guards, porters, or gate-keepers, but

flung the barriers wide and led the horses into the spacious courtyard,

where they dismounted. Leaving Nikitich on guard over the chargers,

Dunai took the bridles in his left hand, and in his right his club

of elm-wood.

 

"Stand there, Nikitich," said quiet Dunai, "and look steadfastly

towards the hall of royal audience. When I call, come!"

 

Then quiet Dunai crossed the courtyard and went into the hall of

royal audience, where he found the King sitting upon his throne,

and said to him in a quiet tone:

 

"Hail, little father, King of brave Lithuania!"

 

"Hail, quiet Dunai!" said the King. "Whither do you wander? Have you

come to fight against us or to serve us as before? But before you

answer, eat your fill and drink all that you need." Then he set him in

the great corner, and when he had refreshed himself somewhat hastily,

Dunai said:

 

"My errand is peaceful, little father. I come on behalf of the Fair

Sun, Vladimir of Kiev, to woo your daughter the Princess Apraxia." Then

he laid the parchment scroll upon the table, and the King spelled out

a little of it, a little and no more, but that was enough to make him

tear in anger at the black curls upon his forehead and stamp his feet

upon the floor of red brick.

 

"Stupid and dolt is Prince Vladimir of Kiev, who sends as his envoy

such a slave as you. Ho there, my merciless jailors! Seize quiet

Dunai by his white hands and by his flowing curls, and lead him down

to the deepest dungeon. Shut him in, bar the door, heap up against it

logs of wood and iron gratings, and then over all pile up the yellow

sand. Feed him on frozen oats and let him drink cold spring water

until he returns to his senses."

 

Quiet Dunai hung his head for a moment, and dropped his clear eyes to

the floor of red brick. Then he raised his white hand and smote the

table with his fist so that the wine was spilled, the dishes rolled

upon the floor, the tables tumbled down and the pillars of the hall

leaned this way and that, while the roof groaned and creaked. The

servants of the King fled this way and the other, while their master

gathered up the skirts of his royal robe and ran at great speed up

the winding stairway to the top of his lofty tower, never pausing even

to take a deep breath until he was safely hidden beneath a thick rug

of marten skins.

 

Then quiet Dunai took one light leap over the King's golden chair,

seized one of the stout attendants by the heels, and using him as a

club, began to slay the rest. "This club is tough," he said quietly

but a little grimly to himself, as he went on with his work. "He will

not break. He is wiry and will not tear." Then raising his voice he

called through the window, "Ho, there, Nikitich!" and the young man

entered the hall, snatched up another attendant by the heels, and

began to assist quiet Dunai in the first part of his strange wooing

of the Princess Apraxia.

 

But by and by the two friends heard the voice of the King through

the window of the topmost apartment of his lofty tower. "Ho, there,

quiet little Dunai!" he cried. "Forget not my kindness towards you

of old. Let us sit again together, you in the big corner, to discuss

the wooing of Prince Vladimir. Take my elder daughter the Princess

Nastasya, for I know little of her seeing that she loves adventure

on the open steppe, and I shall not miss her so much."

 

"I will not," said quiet Dunai, and went on with his work, Nikitich

also ceasing not to assist him.

 

"Take, then, the Princess Apraxia," cried the King in great haste,

and the two friends paused to gather breath. Then quiet Dunai went

to the great castle and began to knock off the thrice nine locks,

and to force open the doors. He entered the tower with the golden

roof and came to the apartment where the Princess Apraxia was pacing

to and fro clad in a fine robe without a girdle, her golden hair all

unbound and her feet all bare.

 

"Hail, Princess," said the royal envoy, bowing courteously, "and pardon

my coming without announcement. Will you wed with Prince Vladimir,

the Fair Sun of Kiev?"

 

"For three years," said the Princess, "have I longed and prayed that

Vladimir might be my husband." Then quiet Dunai took her by the small

white hands, kissed her golden ring, and led her at once into the

courtyard where they met the King.

 

"Take with the Princess," he said, "her royal dowry," and he gave

immediate orders for the loading of thirty wagons with red gold, white

silver, and fine seed pearls. Then the Princess arrayed herself, and

coming forth again rode away with the goodly youths over the smiling,

far-reaching, green and open plain; and as they rode she sang softly

to herself of love and freedom and a fair white throne.

 

When the dark night fell the two youths set up a white linen pavilion,

in which the Princess Apraxia rested, while they lay down near the

entrance with their shaggy steeds at their feet, their sharp spears

at their heads, their stout swords at their right hands and their

daggers of steel at their left. Both slept, for their steeds were

their sentinels, and the dark night passed by with nothing seen except

the stars, nothing heard except the rustle of the breeze round the

curtains of the fair white linen bower of the Princess Apraxia.

 

While it was still early morning they arose, and were setting out

again upon their way, when, looking back, they saw a Tatar horseman

in pursuit of them, his steed all bespattered with the mire of the

plain. When Dunai was aware of this, he sent Nikitich forward to Kiev

town with the Princess Apraxia, but remained himself to meet the bold

adventurer, who surely had not heard how quiet Dunai had wooed the

Princess Apraxia for his royal master.

 

In the midst of the plain the combatants met, and, without taking

time to observe each other closely, but each taking the other for an

accursed Tatar, they fell to resounding blows. In a few moments quiet

Dunai was unhorsed, but he sprang at once to his nimble feet and fought

his foe with mace and spear and sword, until he laid him prone upon the

broad bosom of moist Mother Earth. Then quiet Dunai drew his dagger:

 

"Tell me now," he said, as he brushed the dew of onset from his eyes

with his left sleeve, "the name that you bear and the name of the

accursed horde from whence you come."

 

"If I sat on your white breast," said the stranger, "I would not ask

your name and horde, but would stab you to the heart." Then quiet

Dunai raised his dagger and would have pierced the heart of his foe,

but with his will, or without his will, his arm stiffened at the

shoulder and that blow never fell, for now he saw in the prostrate

figure before him the form of a woman--while the fallen headgear

revealed the parted, flowing hair and the low brow of the Princess

Nastasya who loved quiet Dunai and kept him ever in her golden heart.

 

Without a word of speech, but with a heart full of deep and tender

reproach, quiet Dunai took Nastasya by her lily-white hands, and

raising her to her nimble feet, looked at her until he knew of her

forgiveness and then kissed her sugar mouth. "Let us go," he said

quietly, "to Kiev town and take the golden crowns." Then he placed her

upon his good steed, took from her the mace of steel and the sharp

sword which she bore, and, mounting behind her, rode onward to the

city of Prince Vladimir.

 

"I came to seek my sister," said the Princess, as if suddenly

remembering the cause of her ride.

 

"You shall find her in Kiev town," said Dunai, "and there she and

Prince Vladimir will also take the golden crowns."

 

Then Nastasya spoke no further, for she was too contented for speech,

and they rode ever onward across the open steppe, the glorious

far-reaching, sun-lit, boundless plain.

 

Thus they came to Kiev town, and went at once to the great church. In

the outer porch they met Prince Vladimir and the Princess Apraxia who

had also come thither to take the golden crowns. The sisters greeted

each other with love, and the company went into the dim coolness

of the great church and up to the high altar where a priest awaited

them. And there Prince Vladimir was wedded to the Princess Apraxia

while the singing boys held the golden crowns above their heads, and

quiet Dunai was wedded to the Princess Nastasya while the singing boys

held in turn the golden crowns above their heads; and when that was

done the whole company went to the palace of Prince Vladimir, where

such a feast was laid as had not been prepared since the coming of

the Prince to his royal city; and quiet Dunai sat in the great corner.

 

For three years they lived in mirth and joy, the Princess Apraxia

keeping to her palace, her fine embroidery and her household and

knowing all her husband's thoughts; the Princess Nastasya sharing her

husband's life of quiet wandering, both of them being quite content

in the summer with the life on the boundless steppe and in winter

returning to the palace of white stone in fair Kiev city. Then Prince Vladimir made another great feast, and when it came to the boasting time quiet Dunai bragged with the loudest: