The Russian Story Book 19

The Russian Story Book 19

Then it came to the turn of the ambassador from the stern King

Yetmanuila Yetmanuilovich, and stepping forward the envoy said, "I

will not shoot with one of the heroic bows of Kiev. I have within the

fair white linen pavilion in which I have lodged my brave body-guard

a little bow which I always carry with me when my royal master sends

me upon an embassy across the open steppe." Then at a hail from the

envoy the brave body-guard brought out the bow. Five of them carried

it at one end and five at the other, while the remaining thirty bold

youths dragged along the quiver filled full of flaming arrows. Then

the ambassador took the little travelling bow in her hand and fitted

to the bow-string a flaming shaft of steel.

 

The cord twanged, Prince Vladimir stepped quickly aside, the arrow

sang a journeying song and shivered the trunk of the ancient oak,

so that the sun streamed through it.

 

"I will prove this ambassador once again," murmured Prince Vladimir

in his royal beard. "If he (she) be a woman he (she) will have no

taste for a wrestling match."

 

Then he got together his strong wrestlers and assembled them in a brave

company. "Will it please you," he said courteously, "bold ambassador of

the stern King Yetmanuila Yetmanuilovich, to try a bout of wrestling."

 

"Have you then bold wrestlers, as well as expert bowmen?" asked the

envoy. "I have often wrestled with children during my childhood, and

I can but make a bold man's effort." Then the ambassador grasped two

brave wrestlers in one heroic arm and three brave wrestlers in the

other heroic arm, and cracked their skulls together until the Prince

begged the wrestler with children to spare his brave heroes. Then

said the ambassador:

 

"I came to woo your daughter Lovely, Prince Vladimir, and if you

will not give her to me with your blessing, I will take her with

your curse."

 

"You shall have her by my own consent," said the King, "for with such

a wooer her own consent does not greatly matter."

 

Then Prince Vladimir seized the occasion to make a great wedding-feast,

which lasted with intervals for resting for the full space of three

days. When the feast was over the bride and bridegroom were about to

be led to the church to take the golden crowns, but the ambassador

sat sad and silent in the hall.

 

"What ails you on your wedding morning?" asked the father of the bride.

 

"I know not," was the reply. "It may be that my father has died or

my mother, and my heaviness is the sign of grief. Perchance I need

some music. Call the harp players, and let us see if they can dispel

my heaviness."

 

So the harpers were called, and they sang of the great deeds of

Svyatogor, of Ilya of Murom, and of Ivan the son of Golden Tress,

but for all their skill and sweetness the heaviness of the ambassador

was not dispelled.

 

"I heard in my own home," he said, when the music ceased, "of a

skilful player upon the harp of maple wood whose name was Stavr of

Chernigof. Send for him, and let us see if he can dispel my heaviness."

 

"If I do it not," said Vladimir in his royal beard, "I shall anger

the stern King Yetmanuila Yetmanuilovich. If I do it, Stavr may be

freed from my prison." Yet he did it.

 

Then Stavr came, and, standing before the ambassador, plucked

the strings of his harp of maple wood. And he sang brave songs of

heroic victory, and gentle songs of constancy in love. As he sang,

the ambassador began to sleep and dream, and from these signs the

royal host knew well that his guest was pleased and delighted and

thankful beyond measure. Then with a gentle sigh the envoy woke and

the music ceased.

 

"A boon, O Prince," cried he; "let Stavr go to my white pavilion to

entertain my brave body-guard as he has entertained me."

 

Such a request from one who had paid the musician the high honour of

dreaming to his music could not be refused, and Stavr was allowed to

go out of the banquet-hall with the ambassador by his side.

 

Now when they came out into the bright sunlight and had almost reached

the pavilion, Vasilissa looked up at her husband and said:

 

"Do you not know me, Stavr?"

 

"Alas and alack!" said he, rubbing his eyes, "after such a time in

such a dungeon I cannot recall the faces of far-off years."

 

"Stupid," said she. "Do you not know your own young wife Vasilissa,

of whom you made your boast?"

 

"I would know Vasilissa if I had not seen her for thirteen years,"

said Stavr, with a great deal of certainty and not a little vexation.

 

"Stupider and stupider," said Vasilissa, turning away. "I am certain

that you would not know her after three months."

 

Then she went into the pavilion, where she put off her ambassador's

garments and dressed herself as Vasilissa, placing a coif upon her

head to hide her shortened hair. When she came forth Stavr dropped

his harp of maple wood upon the lap of moist Mother Earth, and taking

his young wife by her lily-white hands, he kissed her sugar mouth.

 

"Let us ride, my fair one," he said, "ride fast and far."

 

"Not so," was the reply; "we shall not steal away but march away from

royal Kiev town. Let us go back to Prince Vladimir, and to Lovely,

my promised bride."

 

So they went back to the Prince and told him all their tale. "With

good reason did Stavr boast of his young wife," he said, with a laugh,

and then with a frown he added, "but what of Lovely the forsaken bride,

for whom I chose a husband?"

 

"She will doubtless be easily consoled," said Vasilissa, "and will

choose her next bridegroom for herself. May he harp as well and boast

not so well as Stavr of Chernigof."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE GOLDEN HORDE

 

 

Prince Vladimir lost no occasion of making a royal feast, and his

banquets were the admiration of Holy Russia and of all the white

world. To one banquet he invited a large number of princes, nobles,

mighty heroes and their body-guards, as well as a company of merchant

princes who had bought land with their wealth in order that they

might be accounted gentlemen. The host made good cheer, the food was

of the richest, the wine of the greenest, and the white oak tables

gleamed like the newly fallen snow on the wide steppe. The stove

glowed fiercely, and Ilya sat in the great corner honoured of all.

 

As the wine-cup passed, the heart of Prince Vladimir grew more and

more generous, and he gave cities to one prince, towns to a second,

villages to a third, and hamlets to another; but to Ilya he gave a

cloak of marten skins with a collar of sables. Then the hero arose,

left the banquet-hall with the cloak held out at arm's length from

him, and came at last to the kitchen. There he dragged the cloak

about the brick floor by one sleeve as if he wished to defoul it and

said savagely:

 

"Just as I drag about this cloak of marten skins with its collar of

sables, I will drag about that poisonous serpent Tsar Kalin by his

yellow curls. As I pour green wine upon this cloak," suiting the

action to the word, "I will pour out his heart's blood."

 

Then a kitchenmaid came with unwashed face into the presence of

Prince Vladimir, and said without preface: "Ilya hath been in my

kitchen and hath dragged about the brick floor the mantle of marten

skins with the collar of sables, saying that even so would he drag

Vladimir by his yellow curls. And he has poured green wine upon the

mantle, saying that even so would he pour out the heart's blood of

Prince Vladimir." Then wiping her hands upon her apron she added,

"And I know not what to do in the matter."

 

Prince Vladimir rose to his feet and his face was black with anger. "Ye

mighty heroes!" he cried, raising his right hand aloft, "lead Ilya

to our dungeon and place him behind the iron grating. Pile up trunks

of oak trees against the door and heap yellow sand over all."

 

At once a great company of heroes left the banquet-hall, and coming to

the kitchen stood in a ring round Ilya, who smiled at them as a father

might smile at his boys; and no man laid hands upon him, for he was the

pride of them all. "Help us now, Ilya of Murom," they said, "or Prince

Vladimir will visit upon us his sore displeasure." So Ilya, smiling

still, called Cloudfall, saddled him and rode himself to the entrance

of the dungeon. There he dismounted and let the shaggy bay steed go

free, after having taken from him his saddle and plaited bridle.

 

Then Ilya went down into the dungeon, and the heroes set up the iron

grating, piled up trunks of oak trees at the door, and heaped yellow

sand over all, as the prince had commanded. After that they went

back to their host, who praised them for their obedience and their

expedition; but Princess Apraxia dug a deep passage underground,

and with her own fair hands carried food of the richest and drink

of the sweetest to Ilya of Murom the Old Cossáck. And this went on

for three years, until Tsar Kalin heard of it, and he was head of

the Golden Horde, who in all his wanderings had seen no fairer lady

than the Princess Apraxia, whom he meant to take as his own in spite

of Prince Vladimir and all his band of well-fed heroes.

 

Tsar Kalin assembled the Golden Horde, which was in number like

the yellow sands upon the seashore, to ride against the royal town

of Kiev. Under him were forty Tsars and Tsareviches, and forty

Kings and their heirs, each with a company of forty thousand men,

and when the host was all assembled it stood along the banks of

swift-flowing Mother Dnieper and round about Kiev town on all sides

for a distance of a hundred miles all told--a goodly escort for a

fair princess. When all was ready Tsar Kalin sat down upon an armless

chair in his gold-embroidered tent of white linen, and wrote a letter

in great haste, using a swan-quill pen with molten gold in place of

ink, and crimson velvet in place of parchment. Then he called his

best and favourite runner and gave the royal letter into his hands.

 

"Go," he said, "to the town of Kiev, falsely styled 'royal.' Enter

not by the gates of shining white oak, but leap over the city

wall. Dismount not, but riding your charger enter without announcement

the palace of white stone. Set the door wide open, but do not close it

behind you. Bow not to North, South, East, or West, and do no special

reverence to Prince Vladimir. But stand right over against him, and fling this letter upon the table, saying to him: