The Russian Story Book 9

The Russian Story Book 9

"This treasure will fall to Ilya of Murom."

 

 

For seven days Ilya sat wondering what he should do to dispose of

the treasure. Then he arose and went to the nearest town, where he

hired builders and carpenters, architects and workers in metal. These

men he set to work to build a fair cathedral on the place where the

gloomy forest had stood, and when the glorious building was completed,

he instituted church singing and the sound of bells, for in these

things his soul delighted. When this work had been finished--and it

occupied a fair space of time--Ilya returned to Kiev city, where the

courteous Prince Vladimir asked him where he had been.

 

Sitting down in the great corner near the stove, the old man smiled

gently, stretched his feet to the blaze, and told the Prince the

Adventure of the Three Roads and of the Burning White Stone. Then he

yawned and went to bed in the peace of accomplishment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

HOW QUIET DUNAI HAD BROUGHT THE PRINCESS APRAXIA TO KIEV

 

 

The tale of the wedding of Vladimir and the Princess Apraxia was one

which was often told after a banquet; and here it is:

 

Quiet Dunai was a great traveller, and one who loved to move without

turbulence, leisurely and at his chosen ease. From land to land he

wandered, both seeing and observing, across the green and open steppe

in summer, but resting in the winter within whatever palace of fair

white stone he could find a seat in the great corner and hearers who

would listen quietly to his traveller's tales.

 

At last he came to the kingdom of Lithuania, where in the palace of

the monarch he served for three years as equerry with the care of the

King's horses and chargers; for three more years he served as Grand

Steward with the oversight of the great banquets with which the King

honoured his nobles; for three more years he served as Groom of the

Chambers, and knew all the King's mind. And during all these years he

loved, at times somewhat turbulently but yet on the whole quietly and

devotedly and faithfully and hopefully, the Princess Nastasya, who in

her turn favoured him silently and kept him ever in her golden heart.

 

Now, on a certain day, the King of Lithuania made a great feast and

invited all his nobles to share his hospitality. Quiet Dunai was

very busy with the preparations for the banquet, and on one of his

many visits to the King's apartments he happened to meet, quite by

accident, the Princess Nastasya. She looked at him quietly and said:

 

"Go not to this banquet, quiet Dunai, for there will be much eating

and more drinking, and when the boasting time comes near the end of

the feast you will brag of me."

 

"I know you will, Dunai," she added gently, and Dunai looked at

her quietly, feeling in his heart that what she said could not be

denied. "Then they will set upon you, Dunai, and you will lose your

head." Hereupon the Princess sighed gently and looked down at the

point of her golden slipper. But Dunai, quiet as he was, had no mind

to avoid the feast, and declared his intention of being present; and

the Princess turned and left him humming a light song which seemed

to have lost its merriment.

 

The feast was held, and when the guests had eaten well and drunk

better, then came the boasting time, when quiet Dunai took his turn

with the rest, telling of his far wanderings, of the King's favour

and rewards, and of how the beautiful young Princess Nastasya kept him

ever in her golden heart. Then the King grew very angry and cried out:

 

"Ho, there, ye headsmen, seize quiet Dunai by his white hands, lead

him out upon the open steppe and chop off his turbulent head."

 

Without delay the pitiless headsmen bore down upon Dunai and seized

him by the shoulders. "I go without help from you," he said quietly

as he shook them off; "but as you lead me to the open steppe see that

we pass by the window of the Princess Nastasya, who keeps me ever in

her golden heart."

 

Then there happened a great wonder, and yet it was no wonder at

all. Before they had reached the window of the Princess, Dunai said

quietly, "Sleepest thou, Nastasya? Wakest thou not? Lo, they are

leading Dunai to the open steppe to cut off his loving head."

 

Now the Princess lay sleeping when the whisper rustled through her

casement and woke her very gently. Without delay she rose from her

couch and put on a loose robe of fair white linen. But she had no

time to fasten round it a girdle of gold, or to bind up her flowing

tresses, before she heard the voice of Dunai once more, this time

in tones of thunder, "Sleepest thou, Nastasya? Wakest thou not? Lo,

they are leading Dunai to the open steppe to cut off his loving head."

 

Then the Princess ran with her feet all bare out into the open

corridor, from which she could see the prisoner and his guards,

and stretching out her little hands in piteous entreaty she cried:

 

"Ho, there, ye pitiless headsmen! Take what treasure you desire,

but when you come to the open steppe set free quiet Dunai that he

may wander once again. And take back to the King the head of some

prisoner who has paid for his crimes with his death--some one, any

one except quiet Dunai."

 

Then the headsmen made signs to the Princess that they would obey her,

and the group passed out to the open steppe where quiet Dunai was set

free and wandered on as he had done before he became the officer of

the King of Lithuania and loved the Princess Nastasya. On he went,

quietly watching until he came to Kiev town, where he went to the

inn and entered into conversation with men of the place. From these

fellows he learnt that Prince Vladimir was holding a great feast,

and that his guests were eating the white swan and drinking green

wine of priceless value.

 

As it happened, just at that moment the boasting time had come. One

man bragged of his horse, another of his valour, a third of his sharp

sword, a fourth of his young wife, and a wise man who had not drunk

so well, of the goodness of his father and the tenderness of his

mother. In time, Prince Vladimir grew weary of their boasting and

stood up among them, whereupon all their voices were hushed.

 

"Boast not, my brothers," he said with a show of impatience. "Glory

not in your horses, your great deeds, your golden treasures. Have not

I red gold, white silver, and fine seed pearls in great abundance? But

in one matter most of you outstrip me. For ye have wives loving and

beautiful, while I, your Prince, am still unwed. Is there no Princess

who is my mate, and who will wed with me? She must be like a goddess

in stature and like a goddess in the perfection of her beauty, of

delicate grace, and stately of gait like the peacock. There must be a

faint flush in her face like unto the white hare, while her eyes must

be falcon clear and full of light. Yellow hair must she have, with

eyebrows of blackest sable, and her speech must be entrancing. Then,

having found her, I shall have one beside me with whom I may think

my deepest thoughts and take counsel, and to whom ye mighty princes,

heroes, and all Kiev may pay homage as your queen."

 

Then all the guests grew silent, and for a long time no man spoke a

word; and as often as the eye of Vladimir sought out one man, he took

pains to hide himself behind some one bigger. At length there stood

up in his place the bold, brave youth Nikitich, who could both read

and write, and said:

 

"My lord and master, Prince Vladimir, have I leave to speak what is

in my mind without fear of speedy death or distant exile or heavy

chastisement?"

 

And Vladimir said, "Say on, Nikitich, and God may forgive you if you

speak unwisely."

 

Then the bold youth said fearlessly:

 

"I know a fitting mate for you who is all that you have said, a beauty

with whom none can compare in all the white world. For myself, I have

not seen her, but of her loveliness I have often heard from my comrade,

quiet Dunai, who sitteth now in the inn and hath no garments to fit

him out for appearance at this honourable feast."

 

"Take my golden keys," said Vladimir, "and open my wardrobes. Choose

from thence all that quiet Dunai requires of raiment, and bring him

to me."

 

Then Nikitich went out and did all that the Prince had ordered;

and as he passed through the streets with quiet Dunai by his side,

the maidens and the wives, young and old, put forth their heads from

the windows, asking each other across the narrow way, "Whence come

such goodly youths as these?"

 

As soon as they had come into the banquet hall, Dunai bowed to North,

South, East, and West, and especially to Prince Vladimir, and they

gave him a seat in the great corner by the fair white oaken table. Then

they set food and wine before him, and when he had refreshed himself,

Prince Vladimir poured out green wine into a crystal goblet from

the East with a rim of thick gold and brought it to quiet Dunai, who

took the cup in one hand and quaffed its contents at a breath. Then

he stood up and said steadily:

 

"I know a bride fit even to mate with you, Prince Vladimir, the Fair

Sun of Kiev. The King of Lithuania has two fair daughters. The eldest,

the Princess Nastasya, is no mate for you, for she loves best to

ride abroad in the open plain seeking adventures, but her sister,

the Princess Apraxia, sits at home in a fair chamber of her palace

embroidering a kerchief of white linen with threads of ruddy gold. She

sits behind thrice nine locks of cunning workmanship and thrice nine

guards in a lofty castle, and the ruddy sun may not scorch her nor the

fine and frequent rains drop upon her, nor the stormy winds disarrange

her braided locks of yellow gold, while no venturesome breeze may mar

the delicate flush in her face like unto the white hare. I have not yet

seen her, but I know of her peerless beauty and speak of what I know."

 

"Hear ye this, my Russian heroes!" cried Prince Vladimir, while his

eyes shone brightly and his face was wreathed in smiles. "Whom shall

we send as our royal envoy to far-off Lithuania?"

 

Then one of the heroes spoke out:

 

"Prince Vladimir," he said, "we have none of us been in strange

lands with strange customs, nor talked in strange speech with strange

people. In a matter where more than strength and goodwill is needed,

namely, the wooing of a fair Princess, I doubt that none of your

heroes would serve you well. Send quiet Dunai. He has been ambassador

to royal courts and has received ambassadors also. He can talk in

strange speech as well as fight; let him woo the fair Princess Apraxia

for you, and when she comes here, as she surely will, we will eat the

white swan and drink green wine in her honour, and crack skulls, too,

if she needs such heroic help."

 

The truth of these words could not be denied, and as the hero who

had spoken, suddenly realising that he had made a wise speech, hid

in confusion behind his neighbour at the table, Prince Vladimir rose

to his feet and said:

 

"Go in my name, quiet Dunai, to the far-famed Lithuanian kingdom and

woo the Princess Apraxia for me with all the skill at your command."

 

"I go at your bidding," said quiet Dunai, with a bow, "but it is not

fitting that I should go alone."

 

"Take a great army with you, if you will," said the Prince, "and if

the King will not send his daughter with his blessing take her with

his curse."

 

"I need no army," said quiet Dunai, "nor yet rich store of treasure to

tempt the King to sell his daughter. Send Nikitich with me. He is my

beloved comrade, a man of good birth who knows how to read and write,

and therefore understands how to deal with people. Give us only two

shaggy colts, fresh from the steppe, which have never borne saddle

or bridle, and prepare a parchment scroll setting forth to the King

that you desire the Princess Apraxia, not for youthful vanity, but for helpfulness that you may make her your wife, to whom all your thoughts will be made known, and who will share in all your counsels."