The Magic Horse
In a certain kingdom, in a certain state, there once lived an old man and his wife, and throughout their lives, they had no children. It occurred to them that since their years were advanced and they would soon die, the Lord had not granted them an heir. So they began to pray to God, asking Him to create a child for them to remember their souls. The old man made a vow: if his wife bore a child, the first person they met would be the godparent. After some time, the old woman became pregnant and gave birth to a son. The old man was overjoyed and set out to find a godparent. As soon as he stepped outside the gate, a carriage drawn by four horses came rolling toward him, and inside sat the tsar.The old man did not recognize the tsar and mistook him for a nobleman. He stopped and began to bow.
"What do you need, old man?" asked the tsar.
"Please, your grace, if it is not too much trouble, would you baptize my newborn son?"
"Do you not have any friends or acquaintances in the village?"
"I have many friends and acquaintances, but I cannot ask them to be godparents, for I made a vow: whoever I meet first, I must ask."
"Very well," said the tsar. "Here are one hundred rubles for the christening. I will come myself tomorrow."
The next day, the tsar arrived at the old man's house. They immediately called for the priest, baptized the child, and named him Ivan. This Ivan began to grow not by years, but by hours—like wheat dough rising with yeast. Every month, he received one hundred rubles from the tsar's treasury as an allowance.
Ten years passed, and Ivan grew into a strong young man, feeling immense power within himself. Around that time, the tsar thought of him: "I have a godson, but I do not know what he is like." He wished to see Ivan in person and immediately sent an order for Ivan, the peasant's son, to appear before his royal eyes without delay. The old man began to prepare Ivan for the journey, took out some money, and said:
"Here are one hundred rubles. Go to the city to the horse market and buy yourself a horse. The journey is long—you cannot walk it."
Ivan went to the city, and on the way, he met an old man.
"Hello, Ivan, the peasant's son! Where are you headed?"
The good young man replied, "I am going to the city, grandfather, to buy a horse."
"Then listen to me if you want to be fortunate. When you arrive at the horse market, there will be a peasant selling a very thin, mangy horse. Choose that one, and no matter how much the owner asks, pay it without haggling! Once you buy it, take it home and pasture it in green meadows for twelve evenings and twelve mornings, letting it graze on the dew. Then you will see what it becomes!"
Ivan thanked the old man for his advice and went to the city. When he arrived at the horse market, he saw a peasant holding a thin, mangy horse by the reins.
"Are you selling the horse?"
"I am."
"How much are you asking?"
"One hundred rubles, no haggling."
Ivan, the peasant's son, took out one hundred rubles, gave them to the peasant, took the horse, and led it home. When he brought it back, his father looked at it and waved his hand in dismay:
"Wasted money!"
"Wait, father! Perhaps the horse will recover, and it will bring me luck."
Ivan began to take his horse to the green meadows every morning and evening to graze. After twelve dawns and twelve dusks had passed, the horse became so strong, sturdy, and beautiful that it was beyond imagination—only in a fairy tale could one speak of such a horse. It was also so intelligent that whatever Ivan thought, the horse already knew. Then Ivan, the peasant's son, equipped himself with heroic gear, saddled his good horse, bid farewell to his father and mother, and rode to the capital city to see the tsar.
He rode for a long time, whether near or far, quickly or slowly, and finally arrived at the tsar's palace. He dismounted, tied his heroic horse to an oak post with a ring, and ordered his arrival to be announced to the tsar. The tsar commanded that he not be delayed and allowed him into the chambers without any trouble. Ivan entered the royal quarters, prayed before the holy icons, bowed to the tsar, and said:
"I wish you good health, Your Majesty!"
"Hello, my godson!" replied the tsar. He seated Ivan at the table, began to treat him with various drinks and snacks, and marveled at him: a fine young man—handsome in face, clever in mind, and tall in stature. No one would think he was only ten years old; everyone would give him twenty, and even more! "It is clear," thought the tsar, "that the Lord has given me not an ordinary warrior in this godson, but a mighty hero." And the tsar granted him an officer's rank and ordered him to serve by his side.
Ivan, the peasant's son, took up his duties with great enthusiasm, never shying away from any task and always standing up for the truth. For this, the tsar loved him more than all his generals and ministers and trusted him more than anyone else. The generals and ministers grew envious of Ivan and began to conspire on how to slander him before the tsar. One day, the tsar summoned his nobles and close associates to a feast. As they all sat at the table, he said:
"Listen, generals and ministers! What do you think of my godson?"
"What can we say, Your Majesty? We have seen neither good nor bad from him. Only one thing is amiss—he is very boastful. We have heard him say more than once that in a certain kingdom, beyond thrice-nine lands, there stands a great marble palace surrounded by an exceedingly high wall—no one can pass through it, neither on foot nor on horseback! In that palace lives the beautiful princess Nastasya. No one can win her, but he, Ivan, boasts that he can obtain her and marry her."
The tsar listened to this slander, ordered his godson to be summoned, and said to him:
"Why do you boast to the generals and ministers that you can obtain Princess Nastasya, yet you tell me nothing about it?"
"Forgive me, Your Majesty!" replied Ivan, the peasant's son. "I have never even dreamed of such a thing."
"It is too late to deny it now. If you have boasted, then you must do the deed. If you do not, my sword will take your head from your shoulders!"
Ivan, the peasant's son, grew sorrowful, hung his head low, and went to his good horse. The horse spoke to him in a human voice:
— What, master, are you grieving, but not telling me the truth?
— Ah, my good horse! Why should I be merry? The authorities have slandered me before the Tsar himself, claiming that I can obtain and marry the beautiful princess Nastasya. The Tsar has ordered me to accomplish this task, or else he will have my head.
— Don’t grieve, master! Pray to God and go to sleep; the morning is wiser than the evening. We will manage this matter; just ask the Tsar for more money so that we won’t be bored on the road, and there will be plenty to eat and drink as we please.
Ivan spent the night, rose in the morning, appeared before the Tsar, and began to ask for gold from the treasury for the journey. The Tsar ordered that he be given as much as needed. So the good fellow took the treasury, put heroic armor on his horse, mounted it, and set off on his journey.
Whether it was near or far, quickly or slowly, he traveled beyond thrice-nine lands, to the thirtieth kingdom, and stopped at a marble palace. Around the palace were high walls, with no gates or doors in sight. How could he get inside? His good horse said to Ivan:
— Let’s wait until evening! As soon as it gets dark, I will turn into a gray-winged eagle and carry you over the wall. At that time, the beautiful princess will be sleeping on her soft bed; you will enter her bedroom directly, take her gently in your arms, and carry her boldly.
So they waited until evening; as soon as it grew dark, the horse struck the damp earth, turned into a gray-winged eagle, and said:
— It’s time for us to do our work; don’t make a mistake!
Ivan, the peasant’s son, mounted the eagle; the eagle soared into the sky, flew over the wall, and set Ivan down in the wide courtyard.
The good fellow went into the chambers and saw that it was quiet everywhere, all the servants were in a deep sleep; he entered the bedroom—there on the bed lay the beautiful princess Nastasya, her rich covers and sable blankets scattered in her sleep. The good fellow gazed at her indescribable beauty, her fair body, and was overcome with burning love. He couldn’t resist and kissed her sweet lips. At that, the fair maiden awoke and screamed in fright; at her cry, the faithful servants came running, caught Ivan, the peasant’s son, and bound his hands and feet tightly. The princess ordered him to be thrown into a dungeon and given only a glass of water and a pound of black bread a day.
Ivan sat in the strong dungeon and thought a sorrowful thought: “Surely, I will lay down my wild head here!” But his heroic horse struck the ground and turned into a little bird, flew through a broken window, and said:
— Well, master, listen: tomorrow I will break down the door and free you; you hide in the garden behind such-and-such bush; there the beautiful princess Nastasya will be walking, and I will turn into a poor old man and beg for alms; watch carefully, don’t miss your chance, or it will be bad.
Ivan cheered up, and the little bird flew away. The next day, the heroic horse rushed to the dungeon and kicked down the door with his hooves; Ivan, the peasant’s son, ran out into the garden and hid behind a green bush. The beautiful princess came out to walk in the garden, and just as she passed the bush, a poor old man approached her, bowed, and tearfully begged for holy alms. While the fair maiden was taking out her purse with money, Ivan, the peasant’s son, jumped out, grabbed her, and covered her mouth so tightly that she couldn’t make a sound. At that moment, the old man turned into a gray-winged eagle, soared high into the sky with the princess and the good fellow, flew over the wall, landed on the ground, and became the heroic horse again. Ivan, the peasant’s son, mounted the horse and seated Nastasya the princess behind him; he said to her:
— Well, beautiful princess, won’t you lock me in a dungeon now?
The beautiful princess replied:
— It seems my fate is to be yours; do with me as you know!
So they rode on; whether it was near or far, quickly or slowly, they came to a large green meadow. On that meadow stood two giants, punching each other with their fists; they had beaten and bruised each other to the point of blood, but neither could overpower the other; beside them lay a broom and a staff on the grass.
— Listen, brothers, — Ivan, the peasant’s son, asked them. — Why are you fighting?
The giants stopped fighting and said to him:
— We are both brothers; our father died, and all he left us was this broom and staff; we started to divide the inheritance, but quarreled: each of us wants to take everything for himself! So we decided to fight to the death, and whoever survives will get both things.
— How long have you been arguing?
— For three years now, we’ve been beating each other, but we haven’t reached an agreement!
— Oh, you! Is it worth fighting to the death over? What’s the big deal—a broom and a staff?
— Don’t speak of what you don’t know, brother! With this broom and staff, you can defeat any force. No matter how many enemies come against you, ride out boldly: where you wave the broom, there will be a street, and if you swing it, there will be an alley. And the staff is also needed: however many troops you capture with it—you’ll take them all prisoner!
“Yes, these are good things! — thought Ivan. — They might come in handy for me.”
— Well, brothers, — he said, — do you want me to divide them equally between you?
— Divide them, good man!
Ivan, the peasant’s son, dismounted from his heroic horse, gathered a handful of fine sand, led the giants into the forest, and scattered the sand in all four directions.
— Here, — he said, — gather the sand; whoever gathers more will get the staff and the broom.
The giants rushed to gather the sand, and Ivan, in the meantime, grabbed both the staff and the broom, mounted his horse—and was gone in a flash!
Whether it was long or short, he approached his own kingdom and saw that his godfather had been struck by great misfortune: the entire kingdom had been ravaged, and an innumerable enemy force stood around the capital city, threatening to burn everything and put the Tsar himself to a cruel death.
Ivan, the peasant’s son, left the princess in a nearby grove, and flew at the enemy army; where he waved the broom—there was a street, where he swung it—there was an alley! In a short time, he slaughtered entire hundreds, entire thousands; and what survived death, he hooked with the staff and dragged alive to the capital city.
The Tsar greeted him with joy, ordered drums to beat and trumpets to sound, and awarded him the rank of general and an untold fortune.
Then Ivan, the peasant’s son, remembered the beautiful princess Nastasya, asked for leave, and brought her straight to the palace. The Tsar praised him for his heroic daring, ordered a house to be prepared and a wedding to be arranged. Ivan, the peasant’s son, married the beautiful princess, celebrated a rich wedding, and began to live happily ever after. Here’s the tale, and for me—a bundle of bagels.
More fairy tales
