Once upon a time there lived an emperor who was a great conqueror, and
reigned over more countries than anyone in the world. And whenever he
subdued a fresh kingdom, he only granted peace on condition that the
king should deliver him one of his sons for ten years’ service.
Now on the borders of his kingdom lay a country whose emperor was as
brave as his neighbour, and as long as he was young he was the victor in
every war. But as years passed away, his head grew weary of making
plans of campaign, and his people wanted to stay at home and till their
fields, and at last he too felt that he must do homage to the other
emperor.
One thing, however, held him back from this step which day by day he saw
more clearly was the only one possible. His new overlord would demand
the service of one of his sons. And the old emperor had no son; only
three daughters.
Look on which side he would, nothing but ruin seemed to lie before him,
and he became so gloomy, that his daughters were frightened, and did
everything they could think of to cheer him up, but all to no purpose.
At length one day when they were at dinner, the eldest of the three
summoned up all her courage and said to her father:
‘What secret grief is troubling you? Are your subjects discontented? or
have we given you cause for displeasure? To smooth away your wrinkles,
we would gladly shed our blood, for our lives are bound up in yours; and
this you know.’
‘My daughter,’ answered the emperor, ‘what you say is true. Never have
you given me one moment’s pain. Yet now you cannot help me. Ah! why is
not one of you a boy!’
‘I don’t understand,’ she answered in surprise. ‘Tell us what is wrong:
and though we are not boys, we are not quite useless!’
‘But what can you do, my dear children? Spin, sew, and weave--that is
all your learning. Only a warrior can deliver me now, a young giant who
is strong to wield the battle-axe: whose sword deals deadly blows.’
‘But WHY do you need a son so much at present? Tell us all about it! It
will not make matters worse if we know!’
‘Listen then, my daughters, and learn the reason of my sorrow. You have
heard that as long as I was young no man ever brought an army against
me without it costing him dear. But the years have chilled my blood and
drunk my strength. And now the deer can roam the forest, my arrows will
never pierce his heart; strange soldiers will set fire to my houses and
water their horses at my wells, and my arm cannot hinder them. No, my
day is past, and the time has come when I too must bow my head under the
yoke of my foe! But who is to give him the ten years’ service that is
part of the price which the vanquished must pay?’
‘_I_ will,’ cried the eldest girl, springing to her feet. But her father
only shook his head sadly.
‘Never will I bring shame upon you,’ urged the girl. ‘Let me go. Am I
not a princess, and the daughter of an emperor?’
‘Go then!’ he said.
The brave girl’s heart almost stopped beating from joy, as she set about
her preparations. She was not still for a single moment, but danced
about the house, turning chests and wardrobes upside down. She set
aside enough things for a whole year--dresses embroidered with gold and
precious stones, and a great store of provisions. And she chose the most
spirited horse in the stable, with eyes of flame, and a coat of shining
silver.
When her father saw her mounted and curvetting about the court, he gave
her much wise advice, as to how she was to behave like the young man she
appeared to be, and also how to behave as the girl she really was. Then
he gave her his blessing, and she touched her horse with the spur.
The silver armour of herself and her steed dazzled the eyes of the
people as she darted past. She was soon out of sight, and if after a few
miles she had not pulled up to allow her escort to join her, the rest of
the journey would have been performed alone.
But though none of his daughters were aware of the fact, the old emperor
was a magician, and had laid his plans accordingly. He managed, unseen,
to overtake his daughter, and throw a bridge of copper over a stream
which she would have to cross. Then, changing himself into a wolf, he
lay down under one of the arches, and waited.
He had chosen his time well, and in about half an hour the sound of a
horse’s hoofs was heard. His feet were almost on the bridge, when a big
grey wolf with grinning teeth appeared before the princess. With a deep
growl that froze the blood, he drew himself up, and prepared to spring.
The appearance of the wolf was so sudden and so unexpected, that the
girl was almost paralysed, and never even dreamt of flight, till the
horse leaped violently to one side. Then she turned him round, and
urging him to his fullest speed, never drew rein till she saw the gates
of the palace rising before her.
The old emperor, who had got back long since, came to the door to meet
her, and touching her shining armour, he said, ‘Did I not tell you, my
child, that flies do not make honey?’
The days passed on, and one morning the second princess implored her
father to allow her to try the adventure in which her sister had made
such a failure. He listened unwillingly, feeling sure it was no use, but
she begged so hard that in the end he consented, and having chosen her
arms, she rode away.
But though, unlike her sister, she was quite prepared for the appearance
of the wolf when she reached the copper bridge, she showed no greater
courage, and galloped home as fast as her horse could carry her. On the
steps of the castle her father was standing, and as still trembling with
fright she knelt at his feet, he said gently, ‘Did I not tell you, my
child, that every bird is not caught in a net?’
The three girls stayed quietly in the palace for a little while,
embroidering, spinning, weaving, and tending their birds and flowers,
when early one morning, the youngest princess entered the door of the
emperor’s private apartments. ‘My father, it is my turn now. Perhaps I
shall get the better of that wolf!’
‘What, do you think you are braver than your sisters, vain little one?
You who have hardly left your long clothes behind you!’ but she did not
mind being laughed at, and answered,
‘For your sake, father, I would cut the devil himself into small bits,
or even become a devil myself. I think I shall succeed, but if I fail, I
shall come home without more shame than my sisters.’
Still the emperor hesitated, but the girl petted and coaxed him till at
last he said,
‘Well, well, if you must go, you must. It remains to be seen what I
shall get by it, except perhaps a good laugh when I see you come back
with your head bent and your eyes on the ground.’
‘He laughs best who laughs last,’ said the princess.
Happy at having got her way, the princess decided that the first thing
to be done was to find some old white-haired boyard, whose advice she
could trust, and then to be very careful in choosing her horse. So she
went straight to the stables where the most beautiful horses in the
empire were feeding in the stalls, but none of them seemed quite what
she wanted. Almost in despair she reached the last box of all, which was
occupied by her father’s ancient war-horse, old and worn like himself,
stretched sadly out on the straw.
The girl’s eyes filled with tears, and she stood gazing at him. The
horse lifted his head, gave a little neigh, and said softly, ‘You look
gentle and pitiful, but I know it is your love for your father which
makes you tender to me. Ah, what a warrior he was, and what good times
we shared together! But now I too have grown old, and my master has
forgotten me, and there is no reason to care whether my coat is dull or
shining. Yet, it is not too late, and if I were properly tended, in a
week I could vie with any horse in the stables!’
‘And how should you be tended?’ asked the girl.
‘I must be rubbed down morning and evening with rain water, my barley
must be boiled in milk, because of my bad teeth, and my feet must be
washed in oil.’
‘I should like to try the treatment, as you might help me in carrying
out my scheme.’
‘Try it then, mistress, and I promise you will never repent.’
So in a week’s time the horse woke up one morning with a sudden shiver
through all his limbs; and when it had passed away, he found his skin
shining like a mirror, his body as fat as a water melon, his movement
light as a chamois.
Then looking at the princess who had come early to the stable, he said
joyfully,
‘May success await on the steps of my master’s daughter, for she has
given me back my life. Tell me what I can do for you, princess, and I
will do it.’
‘I want to go to the emperor who is our over-lord, and I have no one
to advise me. Which of all the white-headed boyards shall I choose as
counsellor?’
‘If you have me, you need no one else: I will serve you as I served your
father, if you will only listen to what I say.’
‘I will listen to everything. Can you start in three days?’
‘This moment, if you like,’ said the horse.
The preparations of the emperor’s youngest daughter were much fewer and
simpler than those of her sisters. They only consisted of some boy’s
clothes, a small quantity of linen and food, and a little money in case
of necessity. Then she bade farewell to her father, and rode away.
A day’s journey from the palace, she reached the copper bridge, but
before they came in sight of it, the horse, who was a magician, had
warned her of the means her father would take to prove her courage.
Still in spite of his warning she trembled all over when a huge wolf, as
thin as if he had fasted for a month, with claws like saws, and mouth
as wide as an oven, bounded howling towards her. For a moment her heart
failed her, but the next, touching the horse lightly with her spur, she
drew her sword from its sheath, ready to separate the wolf’s head from
its body at a single blow.
The beast saw the sword, and shrank back, which was the best thing it
could do, as now the girl’s blood was up, and the light of battle in her
eyes. Then without looking round, she rode across the bridge.
The emperor, proud of this first victory, took a short cut, and waited
for her at the end of another day’s journey, close to a river, over
which he threw a bridge of silver. And this time he took the shape of a
lion.
But the horse guessed this new danger and told the princess how to
escape it. But it is one thing to receive advice when we feel safe and
comfortable, and quite another to be able to carry it out when some
awful peril is threatening us. And if the wolf had made the girl quake
with terror, it seemed like a lamb beside this dreadful lion.
At the sound of his roar the very trees quivered and his claws were so
large that every one of them looked like a cutlass.
The breath of the princess came and went, and her feet rattled in the
stirrups. Suddenly the remembrance flashed across her of the wolf whom
she had put to flight, and waving her sword, she rushed so violently on
the lion that he had barely time to spring on one side, so as to avoid
the blow. Then, like a flash, she crossed this bridge also.
Now during her whole life, the princess had been so carefully brought
up, that she had never left the gardens of the palace, so that the sight
of the hills and valleys and tinkling streams, and the song of the larks
and blackbirds, made her almost beside herself with wonder and delight.
She longed to get down and bathe her face in the clear pools, and pick
the brilliant flowers, but the horse said ‘No,’ and quickened his pace,
neither turning to the right or the left.
‘Warriors,’ he told her, ‘only rest when they have won the victory. You
have still another battle to fight, and it is the hardest of all.’
This time it was neither a wolf nor a lion that was waiting for her at
the end of the third day’s journey, but a dragon with twelve heads, and
a golden bridge behind it.
The princess rode up without seeing anything to frighten her, when a
sudden puff of smoke and flame from beneath her feet, caused her to
look down, and there was the horrible creature twisted and writhing, its
twelve heads reared up as if to seize her between them.
The bridle fell from her hand: and the sword which she had just grasped
slid back into its sheath, but the horse bade her fear nothing, and with
a mighty effort she sat upright and spurred straight on the dragon.
The fight lasted an hour and the dragon pressed her hard. But in the
end, by a well-directed side blow, she cut off one of the heads, and
with a roar that seemed to rend the heavens in two, the dragon fell back
on the ground, and rose as a man before her.
Although the horse had informed the princess the dragon was really her
own father, the girl had hardly believed him, and stared in amazement at
the transformation. But he flung his arms round her and pressed her to
his heart saying, ‘Now I see that you are as brave as the bravest, and
as wise as the wisest. You have chosen the right horse, for without his
help you would have returned with a bent head and downcast eyes. You
have filled me with the hope that you may carry out the task you have
undertaken, but be careful to forget none of my counsels, and above all
to listen to those of your horse.’
When he had done speaking, the princess knelt down to receive his
blessing, and they went their different ways.
The princess rode on and on, till at last she came to the mountains
which hold up the roof of the world. There she met two Genii who had
been fighting fiercely for two years, without one having got the least
advantage over the other. Seeing what they took to be a young man
seeking adventures, one of the combatants called out, ‘Fet-Fruners!
deliver me from my enemy, and I will give you the horn that can be
heard the distance of a three days’ journey;’ while the other cried,
‘Fet-Fruners! help me to conquer this pagan thief, and you shall have my
horse, Sunlight.’
Before answering, the princess consulted her own horse as to which offer
she should accept, and he advised her to side with the genius who was
master of Sunlight, his own younger brother, and still more active than
himself.
So the girl at once attacked the other genius, and soon clove his skull;
then the one who was left victor begged her to come back with him to his
house and he would hand her over Sunlight, as he had promised.
The mother of the genius was rejoiced to see her son return safe and
sound, and prepared her best room for the princess, who, after so much
fatigue, needed rest badly. But the girl declared that she must first
make her horse comfortable in his stable; but this was really only an
excuse, as she wanted to ask his advice on several matters.
But the old woman had suspected from the very first that the boy who
had come to the rescue of her son was a girl in disguise, and told the
genius that she was exactly the wife he needed. The genius scoffed, and
inquired what female hand could ever wield a sabre like that; but, in
spite of his sneers, his mother persisted, and as a proof of what she
said, laid at night on each of their pillows a handful of magic flowers,
that fade at the touch of man, but remain eternally fresh in the fingers
of a woman.
It was very clever of her, but unluckily the horse had warned the
princess what to expect, and when the house was silent, she stole very
softly to the genius’s room, and exchanged his faded flowers for those
she held. Then she crept back to her own bed and fell fast asleep.
At break of day, the old woman ran to see her son, and found, as she
knew she would, a bunch of dead flowers in his hand. She next passed
on to the bedside of the princess, who still lay asleep grasping the
withered flowers. But she did not believe any the more that her guest
was a man, and so she told her son. So they put their heads together and
laid another trap for her.
After breakfast the genius gave his arm to his guest, and asked her to
come with him into the garden. For some time they walked about looking
at the flowers, the genius all the while pressing her to pick any she
fancied. But the princess, suspecting a trap, inquired roughly why they
were wasting the precious hours in the garden, when, as men, they should
be in the stables looking after their horses. Then the genius told his
mother that she was quite wrong, and his deliverer was certainly a man.
But the old woman was not convinced for all that.
She would try once more she said, and her son must lead his visitor
into the armoury, where hung every kind of weapon used all over the
world--some plain and bare, others ornamented with precious stones--and
beg her to make choice of one of them. The princess looked at them
closely, and felt the edges and points of their blades, then she hung at
her belt an old sword with a curved blade, that would have done credit
to an ancient warrior. After this she informed the genius that she would
start early next day and take Sunlight with her.
And there was nothing for the mother to do but to submit, though she
still stuck to her own opinion.
The princess mounted Sunlight, and touched him with her spur, when the
old horse, who was galloping at her side, suddenly said:
‘Up to this time, mistress, you have obeyed my counsels and all has gone
well. Listen to me once more, and do what I tell you. I am old, and--now
that there is someone to take my place, I will confess it--I am afraid
that my strength is not equal to the task that lies before me. Give me
leave, therefore, to return home, and do you continue your journey under
the care of my brother. Put your faith in him as you put it in me, and
you will never repent. Wisdom has come early to Sunlight.’
‘Yes, my old comrade, you have served me well; and it is only through
your help that up to now I have been victorious. So grieved though I am
to say farewell, I will obey you yet once more, and will listen to your
brother as I would to yourself. Only, I must have a proof that he loves
me as well as you do.’
‘How should I not love you?’ answered Sunlight; ‘how should I not be
proud to serve a warrior such as you? Trust me, mistress, and you
shall never regret the absence of my brother. I know there will be
difficulties in our path, but we will face them together.’
Then, with tears in her eyes, the princess took leave of her old horse,
who galloped back to her father.
She had ridden only a few miles further, when she saw a golden curl
lying on the road before her. Checking her horse, she asked whether it
would be better to take it or let it lie.
‘If you take it,’ said Sunlight, ‘you will repent, and if you don’t, you
will repent too: so take it.’ On this the girl dismounted, and picking
up the curl, wound it round her neck for safety.
They passed by hills, they passed by mountains, they passed through
valleys, leaving behind them thick forests, and fields covered with
flowers; and at length they reached the court of the over-lord.
He was sitting on his throne, surrounded by the sons of the other
emperors, who served him as pages. These youths came forward to greet
their new companion, and wondered why they felt so attracted towards
him.
However, there was no time for talking and concealing her fright.
The princess was led straight up to the throne, and explained, in a low
voice, the reason of her coming. The emperor received her kindly, and
declared himself fortunate at finding a vassal so brave and so charming,
and begged the princess to remain in attendance on his person.
She was, however, very careful in her behaviour towards the other pages,
whose way of life did not please her. One day, however, she had been
amusing herself by making sweetmeats, when two of the young princes
looked in to pay her a visit. She offered them some of the food which
was already on the table, and they thought it so delicious that they
even licked their fingers so as not to lose a morsel. Of course they did
not keep the news of their discovery to themselves, but told all their
companions that they had just been enjoying the best supper they had
had since they were born. And from that moment the princess was left no
peace, till she had promised to cook them all a dinner.
Now it happened that, on the very day fixed, all the cooks in the palace
became intoxicated, and there was no one to make up the fire.
When the pages heard of this shocking state of things, they went to
their companion and implored her to come to the rescue.
The princess was fond of cooking, and was, besides, very good-natured;
so she put on an apron and went down to the kitchen without delay. When
the dinner was placed before the emperor he found it so nice that he ate
much more than was good for him. The next morning, as soon as he woke,
he sent for his head cook, and told him to send up the same dishes as
before. The cook, seized with fright at this command, which he knew he
could not fulfil, fell on his knees, and confessed the truth.
The emperor was so astonished that he forgot to scold, and while he was
thinking over the matter, some of his pages came in and said that their
new companion had been heard to boast that he knew where Iliane was to
be found--the celebrated Iliane of the song which begins:
‘Golden Hair
The fields are green,’
and that to their certain knowledge he had a curl of her hair in his
possession.
When he heard that, the emperor desired the page to be brought before
him, and, as soon as the princess obeyed his summons, he said to her
abruptly:
‘Fet-Fruners, you have hidden from me the fact that you knew the
golden-haired Iliane! Why did you do this? for I have treated you more
kindly than all my other pages.’
Then, after making the princess show him the golden curl which she wore
round her neck, he added: ‘Listen to me; unless by some means or other
you bring me the owner of this lock, I will have your head cut off in
the place where you stand. Now go!’
In vain the poor girl tried to explain how the lock of hair came into
her possession; the emperor would listen to nothing, and, bowing low,
she left his presence and went to consult Sunlight what she was to do.
At his first words she brightened up. ‘Do not be afraid, mistress;
only last night my brother appeared to me in a dream and told me that a
genius had carried off Iliane, whose hair you picked up on the road. But
Iliane declares that, before she marries her captor, he must bring her,
as a present, the whole stud of mares which belong to her. The genius,
half crazy with love, thinks of nothing night and day but how this can
be done, and meanwhile she is quite safe in the island swamps of the
sea. Go back to the emperor and ask him for twenty ships filled with
precious merchandise. The rest you shall know by-and-by.’
On hearing this advice, the princess went at once into the emperor’s
presence.
‘May a long life be yours, O Sovereign all mighty!’ said she. ‘I have
come to tell you that I can do as you command if you will give me twenty
ships, and load them with the most precious wares in your kingdom.’
‘You shall have all that I possess if you will bring me the
golden-haired Iliane,’ said the emperor.
The ships were soon ready, and the princess entered the largest and
finest, with Sunlight at her side. Then the sails were spread and the
voyage began.
For seven weeks the wind blew them straight towards the west, and early
one morning they caught sight of the island swamps of the sea.
They cast anchor in a little bay, and the princess made haste to
disembark with Sunlight, but, before leaving the ship, she tied to her
belt a pair of tiny gold slippers, adorned with precious stones. Then
mounting Sunlight, she rode about till she came to several palaces,
built on hinges, so that they could always turn towards the sun.
The most splendid of these was guarded by three slaves, whose greedy
eyes were caught by the glistening gold of the slippers. They hastened
up to the owner of these treasures, and inquired who he was. ‘A
merchant,’ replied the princess, ‘who had somehow missed his road, and
lost himself among the island swamps of the sea.’
Not knowing if it was proper to receive him or not, the slaves returned
to their mistress and told her all they had seen, but not before she had
caught sight of the merchant from the roof of her palace. Luckily her
gaoler was away, always trying to catch the stud of mares, so for the
moment she was free and alone.
The slaves told their tale so well that their mistress insisted on going
down to the shore and seeing the beautiful slippers for herself. They
were even lovelier than she expected, and when the merchant besought her
to come on board, and inspect some that he thought were finer still, her
curiosity was too great to refuse, and she went.
Once on board ship, she was so busy turning over all the precious things
stored there, that she never knew that the sails were spread, and that
they were flying along with the wind behind them; and when she did know,
she rejoiced in her heart, though she pretended to weep and lament at
being carried captive a second time. Thus they arrived at the court of
the emperor.
They were just about to land, when the mother of the genius stood before
them. She had learnt that Iliane had fled from her prison in company
with a merchant, and, as her son was absent, had come herself in
pursuit. Striding over the blue waters, hopping from wave to wave, one
foot reaching to heaven, and the other planted in the foam, she was
close at their heels, breathing fire and flame, when they stepped on
shore from the ship. One glance told Iliane who the horrible old woman
was, and she whispered hastily to her companion. Without saying a word,
the princess swung her into Sunlight’s saddle, and leaping up behind
her, they were off like a flash.
It was not till they drew near the town that the princess stooped and
asked Sunlight what they should do. ‘Put your hand into my left ear,’
said he, ‘and take out a sharp stone, which you must throw behind you.’
The princess did as she was told, and a huge mountain sprang up behind
them. The mother of the genius began to climb up it, and though they
galloped quickly, she was quicker still.
They heard her coming, faster, faster; and again the princess stooped to
ask what was to be done now. ‘Put your hand into my right ear,’ said
the horse, ‘and throw the brush you will find there behind you.’ The
princess did so, and a great forest sprang up behind them, and, so thick
were its leaves, that even a wren could not get through. But the old
woman seized hold of the branches and flung herself like a monkey from
one to the others, and always she drew nearer--always, always--till
their hair was singed by the flames of her mouth.
Then, in despair, the princess again bent down and asked if there was
nothing more to be done, and Sunlight replied ‘Quick, quick, take off
the betrothal ring on the finger of Iliane and throw it behind you.’
This time there sprang up a great tower of stone, smooth as ivory,
hard as steel, which reached up to heaven itself. And the mother of the
genius gave a howl of rage, knowing that she could neither climb it
nor get through it. But she was not beaten yet, and gathering herself
together, she made a prodigious leap, which landed her on the top of the
tower, right in the middle of Iliane’s ring which lay there, and held
her tight. Only her claws could be seen grasping the battlements.
All that could be done the old witch did; but the fire that poured from
her mouth never reached the fugitives, though it laid waste the country
a hundred miles round the tower, like the flames of a volcano. Then,
with one last effort to free herself, her hands gave way, and, falling
down to the bottom of the tower, she was broken in pieces.
When the flying princess saw what had happened she rode back to the
spot, as Sunlight counselled her, and placed her finger on the top of
the tower, which was gradually shrinking into the earth. In an instant
the tower had vanished as if it had never been, and in its place was the
finger of the princess with a ring round it.
The emperor received Iliane with all the respect that was due to her,
and fell in love at first sight besides.
But this did not seem to please Iliane, whose face was sad as she walked
about the palace or gardens, wondering how it was that, while other
girls did as they liked, she was always in the power of someone whom she
hated.
So when the emperor asked her to share his throne Iliane answered:
‘Noble Sovereign, I may not think of marriage till my stud of horses has
been brought me, with their trappings all complete.’
When he heard this, the emperor once more sent for Fet-Fruners, and
said:
‘Fet-Fruners, fetch me instantly the stud of mares, with their trappings
all complete. If not, your head shall pay the forfeit.’
‘Mighty Emperor, I kiss your hands! I have but just returned from doing
your bidding, and, behold, you send me on another mission, and stake my
head on its fulfilment, when your court is full of valiant young men,
pining to win their spurs. They say you are a just man; then why not
entrust this quest to one of them? Where am I to seek these mares that I
am to bring you?’
‘How do I know? They may be anywhere in heaven or earth; but, wherever
they are, you will have to find them.’
The princess bowed and went to consult Sunlight. He listened while she
told her tale, and then said:
‘Fetch quickly nine buffalo skins; smear them well with tar, and lay
them on my back. Do not fear; you will succeed in this also; but, in the
end, the emperor’s desires will be his undoing.’
The buffalo skins were soon got, and the princess started off with
Sunlight. The way was long and difficult, but at length they reached the
place where the mares were grazing. Here the genius who had carried off
Iliane was wandering about, trying to discover how to capture them, all
the while believing that Iliane was safe in the palace where he had left
her.
As soon as she caught sight of him, the princess went up and told
him that Iliane had escaped, and that his mother, in her efforts
to recapture her, had died of rage. At this news a blind fury took
possession of the genius, and he rushed madly upon the princess, who
awaited his onslaught with perfect calmness. As he came on, with his
sabre lifted high in the air, Sunlight bounded right over his head, so
that the sword fell harmless. And when in her turn the princess prepared
to strike, the horse sank upon his knees, so that the blade pierced the
genius’s thigh.
The fight was so fierce that it seemed as if the earth would give way
under them, and for twenty miles round the beasts in the forests fled to
their caves for shelter. At last, when her strength was almost gone, the
genius lowered his sword for an instant. The princess saw her chance,
and, with one swoop of her arm, severed her enemy’s head from his body.
Still trembling from the long struggle, she turned away, and went to the
meadow where the stud were feeding.
By the advice of Sunlight, she took care not to let them see her, and
climbed a thick tree, where she could see and hear without being seen
herself. Then he neighed, and the mares came galloping up, eager to
see the new comer--all but one horse, who did not like strangers, and
thought they were very well as they were. As Sunlight stood his ground,
well pleased with the attention paid him, this sulky creature suddenly
advanced to the charge, and bit so violently that had it not been for
the nine buffalo skins Sunlight’s last moment would have come. When
the fight was ended, the buffalo skins were in ribbons, and the beaten
animal writhing with pain on the grass.
Nothing now remained to be done but to drive the whole stud to the
emperor’s court. So the princess came down from the tree and mounted
Sunlight, while the stud followed meekly after, the wounded horse
bringing up the rear. On reaching the palace, she drove them into a
yard, and went to inform the emperor of her arrival.
The news was told at once to Iliane, who ran down directly and called
them to her one by one, each mare by its name. And at the first sight of
her the wounded animal shook itself quickly, and in a moment its wounds
were healed, and there was not even a mark on its glossy skin.
By this time the emperor, on hearing where she was, joined her in the
yard, and at her request ordered the mares to be milked, so that both he
and she might bathe in the milk and keep young for ever. But they would
suffer no one to come near them, and the princess was commanded to
perform this service also.
At this, the heart of the girl swelled within her. The hardest tasks
were always given to her, and long before the two years were up, she
would be worn out and useless. But while these thoughts passed through
her mind, a fearful rain fell, such as no man remembered before, and
rose till the mares were standing up to their knees in water. Then as
suddenly it stopped, and, behold! the water was ice, which held the
animals firmly in its grasp. And the princess’s heart grew light again,
and she sat down gaily to milk them, as if she had done it every morning
of her life.
The love of the emperor for Iliane waxed greater day by day, but she
paid no heed to him, and always had an excuse ready to put off their
marriage. At length, when she had come to the end of everything she
could think of, she said to him one day: ‘Grant me, Sire, just one
request more, and then I will really marry you; for you have waited
patiently this long time.’
‘My beautiful dove,’ replied the emperor, ‘both I and all I possess are
yours, so ask your will, and you shall have it.’
‘Get me, then,’ she said, ‘a flask of the holy water that is kept in a
little church beyond the river Jordan, and I will be your wife.’
Then the emperor ordered Fet-Fruners to ride without delay to the river
Jordan, and to bring back, at whatever cost, the holy water for Iliane.
‘This, my mistress,’ said Sunlight, when she was saddling him, ‘is the
last and most difficult of your tasks. But fear nothing, for the hour of
the emperor has struck.’
So they started; and the horse, who was not a wizard for nothing, told
the princess exactly where she was to look for the holy water.
‘It stands,’ he said, ‘on the altar of a little church, and is guarded
by a troop of nuns. They never sleep, night or day, but every now and
then a hermit comes to visit them, and from him they learn certain
things it is needful for them to know. When this happens, only one of
the nuns remains on guard at a time, and if we are lucky enough to hit
upon this moment, we may get hold of the vase at once; if not, we shall
have to wait the arrival of the hermit, however long it may be; for
there is no other means of obtaining the holy water.’
They came in sight of the church beyond the Jordan, and, to their great
joy, beheld the hermit just arriving at the door. They could hear him
calling the nuns around him, and saw them settle themselves under a
tree, with the hermit in their midst--all but one, who remained on
guard, as was the custom.
The hermit had a great deal to say, and the day was very hot, so the
nun, tired of sitting by herself, lay down right across the threshold,
and fell sound asleep.
Then Sunlight told the princess what she was to do, and the girl stepped
softly over the sleeping nun, and crept like a cat along the dark aisle,
feeling the wall with her fingers, lest she should fall over something
and ruin it all by a noise. But she reached the altar in safety, and
found the vase of holy water standing on it. This she thrust into her
dress, and went back with the same care as she came. With a bound she
was in the saddle, and seizing the reins bade Sunlight take her home as
fast as his legs could carry him.
The sound of the flying hoofs aroused the nun, who understood instantly
that the precious treasure was stolen, and her shrieks were so loud and
piercing that all the rest came flying to see what was the matter. The
hermit followed at their heels, but seeing it was impossible to overtake
the thief, he fell on his knees and called his most deadly curse down on
her head, praying that if the thief was a man, he might become a woman;
and if she was a woman, that she might become a man. In either case he
thought that the punishment would be severe.
But punishments are things about which people do not always agree, and
when the princess suddenly felt she was really the man she had pretended
to be, she was delighted, and if the hermit had only been within reach
she would have thanked him from her heart.
By the time she reached the emperor’s court, Fet-Fruners looked a young
man all over in the eyes of everyone; and even the mother of the genius
would now have had her doubts set at rest. He drew forth the vase from
his tunic and held it up to the emperor, saying: ‘Mighty Sovereign, all
hail! I have fulfilled this task also, and I hope it is the last you
have for me; let another now take his turn.’
‘I am content, Fet-Fruners,’ replied the emperor, ‘and when I am dead it
is you who will sit upon my throne; for I have yet no son to come after
me. But if one is given me, and my dearest wish is accomplished, then
you shall be his right hand, and guide him with your counsels.’
But though the emperor was satisfied, Iliane was not, and she determined
to revenge herself on the emperor for the dangers which he had caused
Fet-Fruners to run. And as for the vase of holy water, she thought that,
in common politeness, her suitor ought to have fetched it himself, which
he could have done without any risk at all.
So she ordered the great bath to be filled with the milk of her mares,
and begged the emperor to clothe himself in white robes, and enter the
bath with her, an invitation he accepted with joy. Then, when both were
standing with the milk reaching to their necks, she sent for the horse
which had fought Sunlight, and made a secret sign to him. The horse
understood what he was to do, and from one nostril he breathed fresh
air over Iliane, and from the other, he snorted a burning wind which
shrivelled up the emperor where he stood, leaving only a little heap of
ashes.
His strange death, which no one could explain, made a great sensation
throughout the country, and the funeral his people gave him was the
most splendid ever known. When it was over, Iliane summoned Fet-Fruners
before her, and addressed him thus:
‘Fet-Fruners! it is you who brought me and have saved my life, and
obeyed my wishes. It is you who gave me back my stud; you who killed the
genius, and the old witch his mother; you who brought me the holy water.
And you, and none other, shall be my husband.’
‘Yes, I will marry you,’ said the young man, with a voice almost as soft
as when he was a princess. ‘But know that in OUR house, it will be the
cock who sings and not the hen!’
(From Sept Contes Roumains, Jules Brun and Leo Bachelin.)