Immortalls. Princess Swan from the Golden Mountain

— Grandmother, — the girl answered wearily, — call mom…

She just nodded her head, and taking the lamp, went up the stairs to the house. Mika immediately ran down, with a sheepskin coat draped over her shoulders, and Digna was in a hurry.

— What’s wrong with you? — the woman asked, and when she saw her daughter’s white-marble face with blue lips and black eyes, she took two awkward steps towards her, and fell to one side without strength.

“Mom, are you,” Ilda shouted, kneeling and grabbing her mother’s hand.

Mika quickly woke up, and looking at her daughter again, she cried inconsolably.

— What have you done, — she said everything without getting up from the ground, and powerlessly beat on the grass with her fists, — but why… — and sobbing, fell face down on her hands, spread out on the grass, and her back shook with sobbing.

Ilda could not cry, she could not even drop a tear. She just sat down nearby, and tried to calm her mother, stroking her back. Caught herself that her hand does not feel the warmth of mom.

Digna ran into the house, and brought a jug of water and wooden bowls. Poured into one, and tried to get Mika drunk, but so far she could not. The woman was shaking in convulsions, she sat down, bending her shins under her, and stretched out her shaking hands to the key holder. But Digna gave the hostess a drink out of her hands while supporting bowl, but still Mika splashed a little. The witch began to calm down a little, and pulled her daughter by the sleeve. She began to touch her face with quick kisses, saying:

— Anyway, I love you and that, I will not let you go anywhere… My good… I knew that it would happen, “she said, touching her lips with her palm. “How did it all happen?”

Ilda told how she tried to help, how Pirga got up, but did not say, as if he had lost his memory, but was walking, and quickly. How Zvonko barked. But what now does not distinguish colors, and in the dark sees, did not say. Mika stood up, leaning on her daughter’s hand, and approached Pirga. She walked around him, looked like that, and finally said:

— Let him go, daughter. Dead he, not alive, — and looked at Ilda, — I did not know that I would see what they say only in fairy tales. How Ulna did different things. Does he obey you?

— Yes, what I say, it does, — nodded, not understanding the girl.

— Everything, as they say, is true, it means… — Mika thought, — Digna, carry the old trough. You, daughter, let him go, — and she affectionately took her daughter by the hand, — He is not a man, like a doll now undead. Visibility is only that a person, there is only one shell. And Pirga himself went along the Golden Bridge to the country of his ancestors. Why would you play with him? Pity him.

The girl breathed heavily, looked from her mother to the dead, who seemed so alive.

“Shall we leave him?” It doesn’t interfere, he was always so happy with me, — said Ilda, adjusting her shirt on the young man.

— It’s impossible, it’s cruel…

— And I want! — said the girl, stamping her foot, — sit in the basement, no one will know.

Then Digna came with a large trough, and put the burden on the ground.

— Tell him to get in the trough, Mika said.

— Stand in a trough, said Ilda firmly.

“Now, Ilda, put your hands on his forehead, close your eyes, and let him go.

The girl nodded, gently looked directly into the eyes of the deceased, at his, such an expensive face, squeezed her blue lips, and dragged Pirga into an empty cellar in the yard, where nothing had yet been stored.

— Well, you! — Mika just threw up her hands, — Ass!

Digna began to calm the hostess, stroked her shoulder, kissed her cheek like a little one.

— Calm down, we still have to think about how to tell Pirga’s relatives that there is no body either… How he died, where he died while hunting, and you need to give the dog and his elk to your relatives, otherwise it’s not up to you to do that…

— Let’s say the bear devoured and there’s nothing left of the body. After all, there was rain, traces of water were taken away. — said Mika, bending her fingers, so as not to forget anything.

— I’ll go with you, I remember, since childhood, Knuva, pyrgine father. Yes, and take the elk, and the dog too.

— It’s better to get together in the morning, it’s dark already, — Mika agreed, — and now you need to sleep, at least a little of the night is left.

— Ilda should be steamed out of the way in the bath. Mika, wait here, the bathhouse is warm, — the key keeper quickly rammed and dragged the girl into the bathhouse, — let’s go childish, let’s go beautiful, — she said.

The water was heated, Digna checked her palm, began to undress herself, and helped Ilda. The key holder hardly looked at the girl’s body, which had become like ice, or crystal from the Urals. The nails on the arms and legs are blue, as are the lips.

— Sit on the shelf, warm up, — the woman said, watering the ode on hot stones.

Digna warmed herself, covered with sweat, washing it off with hot water. Ilda did not even sweat, she was neither hot nor cold, but she liked to pour water. She washed her hands and feet with a washcloth from the bast, followed Digna.

Suddenly the old willow stand broke, and a large clay vessel with very hot water, almost boiling water, began to fall. The woman just turned to scream, but Ilda, with inhuman speed, put her hands on the side of the vat.

— Digna, bring a log, put it on, and everything will be fine, — the girl said in an even voice, calmly holding the terrible weight.

The key holder threw a sheepskin coat on herself in the dressing room, jumped out, almost knocking out the door, grabbed two logs, and without removing the sheepskin coat, ran up to the girl. The girl just nodded, quickly lifted the vat, and Digna put wood under its bottom. Ilda, exhaled after sitting down, put the vat in place, did not even blush from the onslaught.

— Yes, already childish, — the woman just sighed, — the strength in you is unprecedented. How is your back? — she looked at the girl in surprise.

— Everything is ok.. Let’s go rinse, let’s go to the house? — the girl asked the mentor.

— Let’s go, — she agreed, — if anyone said that you could hold such a burden, I would never believe it.

Then they quickly combed their hair with combs, Digna helped to lay Ilda’s braid, fixed her ash braid with bronze bevels, and fixed her hair herself. Refreshed, they approached Mika sitting on the bench.

Ilda, Digna, went to the house, “Micah said loudly as she opened the door to the stairs.

“Now, I’m coming,” Ilda replied.

Digna did not say a word. The three of us went up to the upper room, the mistress of the house was in front, followed by Digna and Ilda, but the girl was the last. The housekeeper undertook to set the table, thinking, poured honey over the buckets.

— Sit down, the fish is still warm, — the woman said, putting the pot on the table.

“I don’t have to, grandma,” the girl said in a deaf voice.

— She doesn’t eat any more, Digna, ‘said the mother, bitterly in her voice, glancing at her daughter’s dazzling white face.

“Well, no, then no,” the woman said, putting food in Mike’s bowl, and then herself, “Honey drinks,” she said smiling, and kissed her girl, as she always considered Ilda. Exactly his own. — What a cold… Ozyabla? — asked Digna with concern, taking out the bedspread.

— Yes, you eat, not cold me, — the girl answered in an even voice.

“And you don’t smile, you are ours,” Mika said.

“I can’t mom, and I can’t cry,” she said, putting the bucket on the table, “like now,” and she touched her face, “I can’t go to Pirga’s relatives.

— Yes, nothing, — reassured the girl’s housekeeper, — the morning of the evening is wiser. We ate, now we’ll go to bed.

Digna gathered from the table, everyone went to bed in their shops. Ilda undressed, lay down too, covered with a blanket. It was so unusual — I did not feel either heat or cold. As in the bath, the girl recalled. Digna painted, and she was whiter than snow, and remained. And I didn’t remember such forces in myself that I would keep a vat of water, so hot, moreover. Hands like hands, — she looked at her fingers, palms, — strange as, unusual. Ilda saw the whole room in darkness, everything was gray-black, but she saw the table and seats very well. She closed her eyes when she saw that Digna was up, and sneak goes to her, with a night lamp in her left hand.

— What are you not sleeping? — the woman whispered, — rest, the day was bad, but the morning of the evening is wiser.

“All right, grandma,” Ilda said, and covered her face with a blanket.

But I couldn’t sleep. Under the blanket, she did not feel any heat, it became neither hot nor cold — everything was incomprehensible. It’s bad that he doesn’t feel smells anymore, the healer thought. And now you can’t show your face to others… I tried to concentrate, but I couldn’t get to the Tree again, I got up like a thick fog in front of my eyes, and there was nothing to break. I thought about myself and remembered the language of wisdom when dancing, how not to forget to bend my fingers correctly, right, weave space in a single rhythm, putting my hands and feet on the floor, not forgetting about the movements of my hands and head. Then she recalled the complex compositions of herbs from diseases, but how best to protect their strength of herbs, which ones to soar, which ones to insist..

So imperceptibly and the night passed, the sun rose in the sky, but it was covered with clouds. The house also woke up, the housekeeper fed the animals while the hostess melted the stove. Breakfast was unwise, sour milk, cottage cheese, some bread. Ilda was given a honey drink, she could not stand another. After eating, Digna and Mick began to gather, not forgetting Pirga’s things. Everyone was put in two packs, putting them on the back of the young man’s elk. Mika sighed, took her daughter by the arm and led her to the set with a bronze mirror lying next to her.

— Let’s try, daughter, draw your face, — she smiled at her daughter, and winked at the key holder.

Digna smiled broadly like a young girl and quickly went to another room.

— Lips — light colored, blush — and she thought, squeezing her lips.

— Mika, I will make the composition, — the housekeeper laughed, shaking carmine with goose fat, — there are squirrel brushes.

Ilda sat upright and held the mirror in front of her, looking at her reflection in polished bronze. And she was transformed before our eyes. The blue lips turned red, the skin of the face turned pink, the painted blush returned to the cheeks. Her eyes remained black, and Ilda was about to get up. Digna looked at the ceiling, grabbed the girl by the palm, and muttered:

— take your time… — and began to paint her nails — that’s it, and you’re done…

The key holder admired the work. Well, just fine, she praised herself.

— Great, Digna. Thanks. Mika thanked.

— Thanks… — Ilda barely uttered barely alive with joy — this is much better… Almost like before. But I still can’t smile, — the girl felt sorry for herself.

“That’s it, it’s time to go. You are silent more, I will speak for you, — the woman recalled, — lower your eyes, and be silent. Let’s go.

They went downstairs, throwing dark sad raincoats into the undercloths, Mika took Pirga by the bridle of the moose, and Digna led the dog.

Soon they reached the village, passers-by only nodded their heads, seeing sad travelers.

— Pyrga died! Pyrga died! — scattered through the streets, even before Digna knocked on the gate of the house of Knuva, the father of the young man. Almost immediately they opened the entrance, on the threshold stood the alarmed owner of the house.

Hello to you Mika, and you are a glory, and you are hello to Digna. What did you come with, and where is my son? — looking back at the guests asked the man.

— Pirga died, — Ilda spoke in a deaf voice, — went hunting before dawn, on the Forest owner. I woke up, he was not, I heard the howl of the Bell. — the girl said, not taking her eyes off Knuva, — Saddled Karego, my elk, set off, along a forest path, I went to the dog’s voice. Ringing lay all in blood, I picked him up, and he led… Several wolves met, my dry dispersed them… And then…, — she said, leading her hand in front of her, as if everything was in front of her eyes, — Bushes were broken, blood lay everywhere and on the ground with a spear, — she gave it into the hands of the young man’s father, — there was no body… The traces are bear, and wolf, and from his shirt, embroidered, — Knuve stretched out the bloody fabric, — probably the bear killed him, but left, and the wolves ate the body.

— Thanks… Thank you, daughter, for telling everything yourself, and not your mother spoke for you, — said the unfortunate father, who began to rub the temple of his shaved head, — what will I tell my wife… Come in, remember… And the elk brought him, and the dog, — he said, taking the leash of the dog and the leash from the elk. — I’ll go, I’ll take it…

The man tried to walk firmly, but stumbled three times on a pile of grass, so inappropriately grown on the estate, and awkwardly pulled the dog by the leash, so that it squealed plaintively.

Guests stood in the courtyard, waiting for the owner. He came and led his malefactors into the upper room. In the upper room, next to the table, a woman was in charge, in a simple linen dress, her hair was covered with a handkerchief, multi-colored beads around her neck. As you can see, it was Knuv’s wife.

— Sit down, — said the owner, — the mother, Pirga died, the bear broke him. Tomorrow we will follow the trail with relatives, take the blood.

— Now, I’ll bring honey, we’ll remember, — said the woman who was pale from these words.

Returned with dishes with honey, and with five buckets. I poured the drink over the buckets, and put it in front of everyone, only surprised, looking at Ilda’s face.

— Not from our places, or what, girl? — asked the hostess.

“The father is not one of ours,” Micah answered hastily, glancing quickly at the girl, “she is my daughter.

— If so… — sighing, said the hostess, — the fact that the lips are summed up, and the blush on the cheekbones, — looked at Digna with a heavy look, — Does not want to see her pallor… Show your hands, girl!

— What are you, mother, crazy! — shouted Knuva.

“I’ll show you,” Ilda said quietly, stretching her arms out in front of her and showing her palms.

— She didn’t kill him, ‘the woman said, and turned away, going into the far corner.

— Do not be offended by us, healer, — quietly, slowly picking up the words, said the owner of the house, — Your daughter saved me from death, but I couldn’t see my son. Thank you again for bringing the bitter news yourself.

“Let’s go, Knuva,” said Mika, “it’s hard for us to be here.

It was already dying late, and half the way home to the estate, darkness fell on the path. The sky was covered with clouds, and the moon did not illuminate the earth. Mika and Digna tread carefully, afraid to fall, the witch leaned on the staff, the key-holder on the stick. Ilda walked quickly, she saw a forest path even in pitch darkness. Everything was gray and black in front of her eyes, dark trees, gray crowns, gray-black bushes, even coniferous needles, grass growing densely on the ground. The girl could not even step on a small snail crawling along a blade of grass. She even sat down, having examined her closer, the sink, small horns, eyes — beads, smiled and wanted to call her mother, and only then she realized that they did not see anything now.

— Mom, wait, — said the girl and quickly approached, — take me by the arms, I will guide you.

— Tell me what to do… Mika agreed, letting her take her by the shoulder.

— Ilda, give me your hand, — asked Digna.

Then they all went together, with difficulty fitting on the path, Ilda tried that women would walk on flat ground. But more than once or twice, Digna and Mika almost fell, but hanging in the girl’s arms, they felt her inhuman strength. The girl’s strength was great, and she calmly held both, preventing them from falling. So the house appeared, the dog barked, meeting the owners. Tyapa no longer ran close to Ilda, but wagged his tail, ran after Digna and Mika.

— You see, daughter, — my mother said already at home, — and the good in a bad place — how you led us in the dark to the house. Before, you also did not see in the dark.

— Not everything is bad… — the girl agreed — and there is something very bad.

Wet drizzle

The summer solstice passed, merry holidays, but the weather was unusually cool in summer. The sun never appeared in the sky, only hid behind gray clouds. Cows in the pasture are good, the grass is plentiful, barley grew well, but it was alarming in the hearts of people. Autumn came, weddings played, autumn passed in the fall, and everything was so warm, neither it’s cold. Winter was warm — instead of snow, cold rains poured, and gray, dull forests stood under dank rare drops. Rann walked along the street of Oum, bogged in the mud with leather boots, Nearby squished through puddles and an old friend Cord, leaning on a staff that went into the ground in his palm.

— Something is wrong.. — the elder said thoughtfully, wiping his face from drops, — Very bad. We need to ask Pryakh for advice. Will you send Nimes to Alatyr?

“Let me spread the bones,” said the Magi, looking expectantly at his friend.

“None of it,” Cord shook his head, “Ella won’t answer, here the witch should help.”

“Then let’s send to Mika,” Rann added decisively, “we need to find out what is happening and what we should do.”

“Well,” the elder agreed, “I’ll send one of my sons.”

Skir looked back, saw the younger, and beckoned to himself.

— Run to Mika, say you need, they say. And let the bones not forget. Take her to my homestead.

— Well, father, — the boy answered the adult, and quickly went to the forest, the abode of the witch,

Rann stood waiting for Cord. Still looked at the gloomy sky, won’t it be cleared? But in response, only cool drops touched the face of the magician, flowed down the skin and were lost in the already senile beard.

— Come to me, let’s wait for Mick.

Friends returned to the elder’s estate, shaved their shoes from the mud, sat on the benches, waiting for the long-awaited guest. The wife, looking at her husband’s gloomy face, brought honey and poured it into each bucket.

— Another one, Cord added, sighing.

The third scoop stood next to two. So friends sat, could not say anything. Time dragged on hard, but finally the voice of the witch was heard below:

— What, waiting already?

“Yes, Mika, here they are,” replied the landlady.

“Hello, dear,” said the guest.

— Hello, Light Mika, — the men greeted, bowing, — come in. Yes, so as not to talk around, we ask you to spread the bones. Ask Ella why there was no summer or winter, but what can we expect.

“Okay,” she sighed, “in the bone bag, I’ll do as you ask.

She took out a wooden bowl from sumy, and a bag, good thin skin. The Magi and the elders had their eyes fixed on the cherished bag. Mika shook him, saying something quietly quietly, shook and tapped, and almost threw dice on the table with a jerk. The bag seemed to have crunched, and those sitting at the table shuddered, looking at the witch with misunderstanding. She closed her eyes, launched her right hand into the bag, and began to take out the bones…

Mick pulled out empty bones, without a sign. She herself looked in confusion, only squeezed her full lips.

“It’s a bad thing. Ella does not want to answer. Only Pryakh had to ask for help, “she said, draining the ladle with honey and immediately left, as if she was not there.

“I’ll go to them myself. To Pryakh on Alatyr Ostrov. Mika will stay here. We must go, it is necessary for a long time, old friend.

“You’ll sail on Gouda’s boat. Recently handled the ship, the skin is strong, well sewn. So, go for a whole month, and even back.

“We’ll get ready. Him, — he shouted to the student, — get ready for the road, we leave in a day! — and he turned to the elder, — Tell people, they say, Rann went for a whale mustache, for witchcraft affairs.

— Is he suitable for this, for witchcraft, a whalebone?

“They don’t know that,” laughed the Magi.

***

The rook was really good. Selected walrus skin, wisely set the ribs of the whale in the longitudinal beam of the ship’s frame, made Linda’s creation wonderfully strong and light. Vataga was twelve people, and the feeder Gaud, controlled with a steering oar. It is easier to go down to the lower reaches of the Ob River, but the weather is not baloval — damp and dank. We got to Warta quickly, in a week, and stayed to warm up for a couple of days, and then went to Gandvik. The broad Ob carried travelers on its shoulders, and after eight days they saw the pier and houses of the village. Rann stood on his nose, wrapped in a felt cloak, dressed over a sheepskin coat. He stood with the feeder all the way, and he taught a capable young man, and how the waves beat the boat, and how to rule the stars and the sun. Note how the sky changes, and how the winds, at what time of year there are, where it is better to stick to the shore, and how to set up a practical camp.

Fishermen and sailors worked slowly on the pier, some dried and repaired nets, others covered the skin of their boat with bright wax. Goude put his ship at the pier, and the carpenters removed the belongings from the ship, and then pulled it out of the water. Nim slowly approached the fishermen.

— Good day, people of maritime affairs. Will you tell us how to find your magi, Aragan? Ya-Nim, a disciple of Rann, the Magi of Oum.

“Greetings to you, Light Nim,” said the most dignified of the fishermen, tearing himself away from working on his net. “My name is Guna, and I will lead you to his homestead.”

The fisherman rinsed his hands in the river water, wiped them with a piece of canvas, adjusted his woven belt on his felt jacket, and approached Rann.

“Let’s go, good man,” he said, bowing to the sorcerer, “I will guide you.”

Guna led Rann and Nim, who was dragging a sled with belongings and gifts. The homestead was enclosed by a new wattle fence, with an ornate gate and a larger gate for driving cattle and for the loaded sled. The fisherman approached, and smiling at something of his own, knocked on the gate. A dog’s bark answered, followed by the voice of someone from the household.

“Open up, dear guests are here,” Guna boomed, “it’s not right to keep them outside.”

“Who’s there?” a voice called out, and the gate opened. “Good day,” said the man, who, judging by his face, had just woken up.

“I am Rann, a sorcerer from Oum. We are going to Alatyr to ask the Spinners for Council. With me is my apprentice, Nim, and this is our guide, Guna.”

“I know Guna. It’s good that you’ve come to me, Rann. You can rest from your journey, steam yourself in the bathhouse. Come in, sit on the bench while the steam room warms up.”

“I’ll be going,” the fisherman boomed, bowed, and walked towards the pier.

The bathhouse, indeed, was magnificent; even here, in the North, in Gandvik, there wasn’t a single homestead in the village without a steam room. Rann and Nim, clean and rested, ascended to the upper room, the apprentice carrying a chest of gifts.

“To you, Aragan, our gifts, as a sign of respect,” the guest loudly proclaimed, “and a gift from Mika, who came to us at your word,” the sorcerer wove his speech like a skilled craftswoman weaving a carpet.

He opened the lid of the chest, taking out and laying the gifts before the master of the house. A bronze mirror, a good knife, pieces of jade, dried herbs in pouches that are collected only near Oum.