The Russian Story Book 14
When Diuk saw this his heart failed him and he said to himself, "My
courage leaves me and I dare not enter that pavilion, for the hero
who sits therein will assuredly cut off my head. But I will place
Rough-Coat by the side of this charger and he also shall stoop to
the wheat. If the two horses eat together in peace, I will take it
as a sign that the hero will do me no harm. But if the horses begin
to quarrel I shall know that it is time for me to return to my lady
mother." For a strange dread and fear was upon the young man who had
set out so boldly but who now felt that he was within the circle of
a spell. And well he might, as we shall see.
The two chargers ate in peace, and Diuk, taking heart again, entered
the pavilion, bowing as he passed the threshold to North, South, East,
and West, and especially to--the owner who slept in one corner with a
terrible snore. Diuk came forward, and looking closer knew at once that
the sleeper was none other than Ilya of Murom the Old Cossáck, wrapt in
one of the deep sleeps for which he was as famous as for heroic deeds.
"Rouse ye, Ilya of Murom," cried Diuk; "it is time to go to royal
Kiev town so as to be present at matins on Easter morn." But Ilya
slept on and snored and stirred not. Again Diuk shouted, and again
without result; but at his third shout the great warrior unclosed his
eyes in a manner which seemed to suggest that he had been sleeping
a hound's sleep and said:
"Ho, stranger, tell me your name and horde." Then Diuk told him all
the truth.
"Why, then," asked Ilya, "have you roused me from my heroic sleep. Do
you wish to go with me out upon the open plain and see which of us
shall carry home the head of the other?"
"Nay," said Diuk in great haste. "Why should I fight with Ilya upon
the open plain? Death will not come to you in battle. As there is
one sun in the daylight sky and one moon in the dark blue heavens,
so there is one Ilya of Murom in Holy Russia."
This speech was courteous enough and fitting for the mouth of a young
hero, and it pleased Ilya mightily. He sprang at once to his nimble
feet, caught Diuk by his white hands, kissed him upon his sugar lips,
and swore with him eternal friendship, making the solemn exchange
of the cross. And Diuk thought no more of home or of his lady mother
and her tears of loneliness.
Then the young hero and the old sat down in the fair pavilion and
ate and drank well but not too well; and when that memorable feast
was ended, Ilya said to Diuk:
"Go now alone upon your way to Kiev town, and if any one there shall
mock at you send me word of it. But do not take your part when the
boasting time shall come."
With a heart full of hope and youthful expectation, Diuk rode on
alone to Kiev town; and when he came there Rough-Coat leapt over the
walls and flew like a whirlwind to the palace of white stone. In the
courtyard Diuk leapt lightly to the ground, planted the butt end of
his spear in the soil, and flung his bridle over the point. Then he
looked up and saw the Princess Apraxia looking out of the window and
said out loudly, "The washerwoman, I suppose." But he also bowed to
her and asked, "Where is Prince Vladimir, the Fair Sun of Kiev?"
Thereupon the Princess Apraxia raised her head with a look of scorn
and passed into the shadow of her apartment; and it was the serving
men in the courtyard who answered the young man's question. "Royal
Vladimir," they said, "is on his way to the Easter Mass." So Diuk
mounted Rough-Coat once again and rode off to the Cathedral. At
the great door he let his horse go free and entered the hall of the
ambassadors, but he did not bow to North, South, East, and West and
especially to any one, but gazed about and scanned the faces of all
the congregation. When the service was over the courteous prince sent
a messenger to invite the strange youth to the palace, and to this
man Diuk replied lightly and by no means courteously:
"You have lately been favoured in these parts with spring weather and
my embroidered garments are befouled with the mire of the plain." This
he said to show his magnificence, for he was splendidly clad, as
befitted his ancestry, and he knew it. So he went to the banquet-hall,
his steed following after him; and when he came within the place
he bowed to Prince Vladimir until his golden curls swept the red
brick floor. Then he stood upright and looked about him, and having
looked he shook his head doubtfully and slightingly, for to his eyes
accustomed to the shining splendour of India the Glorious the palace
was mean beyond compare.
But he sat down with another shake of his head, wondering upon what
meal of frozen oats his fine steed was being regaled and eyeing
with scorn the tables of white oak with their cloths patterned with
drawn-work of white thread, the handiwork of the Princess Apraxia. He
ate and drank well, however, and when he showed more contentment,
Vladimir asked him courteously if it were a long journey from India
the Glorious to Kiev town.
"I set out at vespers on Holy Saturday," said Diuk lightly, "and as
you know, I have been at early Mass in Kiev town this Easter day."
"And can you buy such steeds as yours cheaply in India the
Glorious?" asked Prince Vladimir still courteously.
"Oh," said Diuk lightly still, "we have them at a rouble, or two
roubles, or six roubles, or even seven, but Rough-Coat is priceless
and not to be purchased by the wealthiest trader." Then he thrust
his hands into his belt and stared about the room, while a great hush
fell upon the company.
But one of the heroes of Holy Russia rose slowly to his feet and said
heavily: "My lord, Prince Vladimir, I have travelled far from Kiev town
and have been even to India the Glorious. And I know without hearsay
that by the straight way for heroic travellers it is a journey of
three months, but by the round way for merchants it is a six months'
passage and more, indeed, unless on the way the traveller springs
from horse to horse, making no delay."
To this speech courteous Prince Vladimir said nothing in reply. The
guests looked at each other at a loss for the next event, and then
feeling hungry and thirsty again fell upon the banquet with heroic
strength. But Diuk sat at the board sad and silent until Vladimir
spoke to him.
"What ails your sad heart, bold youth?" he asked gently. "Is the
feast not to your taste? Or do you fear the boasting time which is
surely coming, when you shall have nothing of which you may brag?"
"Prince Vladimir," said Diuk, "I am wealthier far than you are. For
my father left me great riches, and I am used to fine white bread
made from flour of Turkish wheat."
Then courteous Prince Vladimir ordered his servants to bring wine
of the greenest and cakes of wheaten flour. Diuk drank one half of
the wine and poured out the rest upon the table as if its value were
of no account, and some of the dogs licked the drops and then lay
down to sleep. He took off the top crust of the fine wheaten cakes,
ate the middle, and flung the rest to the other dogs. And even yet
courteous Prince Vladimir blamed him not at all.
But another Russian hero sprang to his nimble feet and cried, "What
boorish fellow is this? He is not really Lord Diuk from India the
Glorious, and for the first time to-day this fellow has drunk green
wine and eaten fine wheaten cakes. He is a cow-herd, a fugitive serf
from the castle of some nobleman, who has done his master to death,
dressed himself in his embroidered garments, and stolen his goodly
steed. He is not of noble birth, for as he walked I noticed that he
looked not straight before him but at the shoes upon his feet. He
has come here in order that you, Prince Vladimir, may feast him
honourably and then give him a rich gift in accordance with your
courteous custom."
"I desire no treasure which can be given to me here," cried Diuk,
"for I have wealth untold at home, and rich food and green wine in
abundance. I had heard tales of wonder concerning Kiev city and came
here to test the truth of what I had heard. But it is not with you
as it is with us in India the Glorious."
And even yet Prince Vladimir parted not from his courteous bearing
but said gently:
"Why did you stare about the church at Mass this Easter morning,
instead of reverently bowing your head in the company?"
"I stared about, Prince Vladimir," said the young man, "because I had
heard tales of Kiev churches and of the richness of their beauty. But
in this matter also, it is not with you as it is with us in India
the Glorious. Your churches are of wooden beams with domes of timber,
but ours are of stone with roofs of beaten gold. Our meanest houses
are finer than your palaces of white stone. Your streets are foul
with mire, but ours are cleanly swept and strewn with dry yellow sand.
"The steps of your royal palace," went on Diuk, "are of black stone
with railings of turned wood fastened together with pegs of wood,
and these rough pegs, as I know to my annoyance, catch the flowing
robes of those who mount the steps. But the steps of my palace in
India the Glorious are of smoothest ivory, and are spread with rugs
of silk from Samarcand, while the railings are of polished ruddy gold
on which no speck of dust is allowed to settle.
"The floor of this banquet-hall is of rough, uneven pine planks,
and even these rough boards are a luxury for the high table and the
great corner, while the rest of the hall is paved with coarse red
brick. Your walls and ceiling are unpainted, your tables are of oak,
and the cloths laid upon the most exalted are patterned with drawn
threads. But the floors of our hall are of smooth ash timber in every
part, laid with great evenness, our walls and ceiling are painted in
the richest colours, while our tables are of gold when they are not
of ivory. Over my lady mother's doorway are seventy pictures of holy
saints shining in glorious colours, while you have only ten. From
our churches to the palace are laid pavements of hard smooth wood,
spread with scarlet cloth, but your pathways are so miry that they
soil the embroidered garments of a Prince."
Even yet Prince Vladimir remained courteous, and all he said in
reply was:
"Why did you throw away some of my green wine and a portion of my wheaten cakes?"
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