by Megan Derr
"Not at all," the bride said warmly, but he could hear the desperation left unspoken. "Please, sit and join us. As happy as we are today, it is our pleasure to share that happiness as we may. There is food and drink aplenty, my lords, though it be humble enough."
Ivan laughed softly. "I am no lord, dear lady, and no man is too good to refuse a warm meal. We accept your offer, most gladly and with deep thanks."
He motioned, and his bodyguard fetched two chairs and helped to rearrange everything so there was space enough for the two of them. He held out Ivan's chair, and saw Ivan was comfortably settled, before taking his own seat.
They shared a look, knowing and loving, of the same mind as always. Then he turned back to the group, and thanked the woman who handed him a cup of mulled wine. Looking to the bride and groom, he asked, "So you were married this day? I hope the weather held fair until it was over, and did not interfere with the ceremony."
"It was a beautiful wedding," the woman declared, holding fast to her groom's arm, laying her head on his shoulder.
"Many blessings upon you, and your children, and your children's children," Ivan replied. "You're a handsome couple, like the look of a painting finally completed."
"Thank you," the groom replied.
The idle conversation continued, and Ivan began to pick out more and more anomalies in the wedding party—forced laughter, empty smiles, plates of food barely touched, alcohol drunk too heavily here, not drunk at all there. The bride was too joyous, the groom too mild, his words well practiced and smoothly spoken, but with no sincerity. The groom's friends shared his angry impatience, an undercurrent of menace. The groom and his friends were the only ones eating, and they ate only tender slices of barely cooked meat.
But he said nothing, did nothing, save to keep the conversation flowing. "So what were you doing when we so rudely interrupted?"
"Telling stories," said an old woman, who by her appearance must be the bride's mother. "My husband, gods rest his soul, was a Storyteller. It's a family tradition we hold very dearly. We all were taking turns telling our favorites."
The bride laughed, a shockingly sincere sound when everything else was fearful lies. "We were actually arguing over a story—the tale of Tsar Grey and Ivan the Heartless," she said. "Everyone knows a different version, and we were trying to decide which was the most correct."
Ivan's mouth quirked. "Indeed. A popular tale, that one, especially given the events concluded only a decade or so ago. I know a version of my own, if you would like to hear it. I am told it is the true version, but hear the tale for yourselves and then decide if it be true or false."
"Yes, please," the bride said, clapping her hands once in excitement, all but the groom and his men adding their own eager encouragements.
Ivan bowed his head and took a deep swallow of wine before beginning his tale. "Now, most versions I have heard begin the tale when a lost prince encounters a wolf while he journeys, but this tale truly begins well before that, dear listeners. Our tale begins not with a prince, but with a tsar and a princess…
*~*~*
Fifteen years ago, Tsar Grey went out riding with his sister, Princess Elena the Fair, his betrothed, Princess Vassilissa the Wise, and his faithful friend and bodyguard, the soldier Tarabanov. Tragedy struck them in the forest, however, and only Princess Elena emerged again, blood-soaked and terrified, sobbing mournfully about the dragon which had attacked them, devoured all but her.
Grief-stricken, the kingdom held ceremonies for their lost Tsar and the Tsarina that would never be, and faithful Tarabanov, who no doubt had been the first to fall in a valiant effort to save his Tsar.
After a suitable length of time, they crowned their new Tsarina. In honor of her coronation the neighboring kingdoms all sent suitable gifts. Later, Tsarina Elena sent gifts to them in thanks and in promise of continued good relations.
To Tsar Vyslav of the eastern-most kingdom, she sent a rare and beautiful gift indeed: a firebird of breathtaking magnificence, with wings of gold and eyes like crystal. Tsar Vyslav was much pleased by the gift, and ordered the firebird placed in his private garden, where it spent its days eating golden apples from the tsar's favorite tree.
Now it happened that Tsar Vyslav had three sons, and of these sons, the youngest was dearest to him. His name was Ivan, and for love of his father he spent his days in the palace, attending the tsar and keeping him happy despite his own private wishes to see the world as his brothers had.
When he looked upon the firebird, Prince Ivan found himself enchanted by its beauty, enthralled by its voice. He was most drawn to its sadness, the mournful way it looked to the sky in which it could not fly, bound by magic to the garden.
Every day Prince Ivan begged his father to set the firebird free, but always the tsar refused. Every night Prince Ivan climbed into the golden apple tree and listened to the firebird's sad songs, occasionally humming along as best he could. Day by day, he and the firebird grew closer, until whenever he went to the garden, the firebird flew to him and settled in his lap to sing.
One day the tsar of a neighboring kingdom visited, and brought with him a handsome wolf of enormous size, with thick dark fur and eyes like moonlight. In the wolf's eyes Ivan saw a sadness that echoed the mournful songs of the firebird, and so during the tsar's stay, Ivan befriended the wolf. It followed him around as often as it may, and seemed delighted by the firebird, not leaving its side until his tsar called for him, angered by the wolf's prolonged absence.
As the days passed, the tsars spoke at length, and at last decided to exchange pets, for Prince Ivan's father was fascinated by the wolf, and weary of sad songs, and the wolf's tsar was weary of an animal that would not obey.
Devastated by the loss of the firebird, feeling as though a piece of him was gone forever, Ivan wandered the halls in anguish, soothed only by the presence of the wolf and the forlorn howling he cast to the sky when dark fell.
By and by, his discontent grew, until even his father's happiness was not enough to keep him bound to the castle. "Shall we run away?" he asked the wolf, and the wolf seemed to say they should, and so they fled in the dark of night, never looking back.
At the wolf's silent bidding, Ivan climbed upon its back and off they raced, faster than the wind, until Ivan realized the wolf had carried them to the palace of the tsar who had taken the firebird. Leaping over the walls of the palace, the wolf landed in the garden, and Ivan slowly slid from his back.
He listened for a moment, and heard a familiar mournful song, and followed it to the heart of a lush garden, where the firebird sat inside a golden cage. Ivan moved forward, eyes upon the firebird, unable to think of anything else.
Too late, he heard the wolf call a warning, fingers on the golden cage, springing a trap, sealing them in the garden. Ivan opened the cage and freed the firebird, cradling it against his chest, feeling at peace despite their dire situation.
But then the firebird freed itself from Ivan's embrace, and flew atop the cage, and began to sing a song that made the guards who came rushing in clutch at their ears and cry out in agony.
Grabbing one of them, Ivan demanded the man tell him how to break the spell that trapped them. And the man told him, frightened of the wolf, pained by the bird, and enchanted by the beautiful prince with golden hair and ruby lips.
Breaking free, Prince Ivan, the wolf, and the firebird fled into the night, Ivan upon the wolf's back, the firebird flying above them, his golden feathers shining brightly to show the way in the dark.
When at last they were well away and safe, deep in the woods, Ivan made a fire and cooked the hare the wolf brought him. When they were warm and fed, he said quietly, "You are no firebird, and you are no wolf. I am no wizard, but I know a curse when I see one. How might I help save you?"
The wolf growled, and the firebird trilled sadly, and Ivan understood they did not know the secret to breaking their curses. "Then we will search every kingdom, until we discover a way," Ivan vowed.
So they tr
aveled through the thrice-nine kingdoms across the thrice-nine lands. Ivan spoke with every witch, consulted with every wizard, read every book he could find, in search of a way to save his friends. He searched and searched, growing ever wiser in the ways of magic, until he became a wizard himself.
Then, after a year and a day had passed, they were walking along a forest road when they heard someone coming. Fearing robbers, preferring to avoid a fight, they hid behind some trees and waited. Rather than robbers, the riders instead proved to be a tsar and his retinue. Prince Ivan stared in wonder at the tsar's horse, an impressive mare with a golden mane. She moved as quick and light as the wind, and put all other horses to shame.
The wolf whined quietly, sadder than Ivan had ever heard him, and the firebird sang in forlorn sympathy. "The mare is one of you?" Prince Ivan asked, and when they indicated she was, Ivan declared they must save her.
They followed the tsar and his retinue back to his hunting lodge and waited until dark fell and all within the lodge slept. Ivan bid the wolf and firebird wait for him, and crept into the stable.
In the farthest stall, the mare stood with her head drooping, moonlight turning her golden mane to silver. Prince Ivan slipped into her stall and whispered to her of the wolf and firebird, and she immediately brightened.
Prince Ivan reached out to take her bridle, but saw at the last moment that it was spelled. Hastily withdrawing his hand, he spoke words of magic he had learned, and the spell on the bridle broke. Removing it, he opened the stable door and led the mare away from the hunting lodge.
When they reached his friends, the wolf and mare and firebird were overcome by the sight of one another, and the wolf and mare would not be parted for any reason, but lay together before the fire as Prince Ivan cooked their supper.
After they were all were warm and fed, Prince Ivan said, "We have looked and looked for a way to break your curses, but found it nowhere. I think I must get the answer from the one who cursed you." So decided, Ivan asked them a thousand questions, until at last he deduced it was Tsarina Elena the Fair who had cursed them—and realized at last the true identities of his dear friends. "Then I will go to your kingdom, Majesty, and coax from your sister the secret to breaking your curse."
So they journeyed to the wolf's kingdom and got as close as they dared. Leaving his friends in an empty cabin in the forest, Prince Ivan looked to the wolf and said, "Noble wolf, I bid you take my strength, and keep it safe, for I will need to be weak to deceive the Tsarina."
Then he turned to the mare, and smoothed her golden mane, and said, "Sweet mare, I bid you take my honor and keep it safe, for I will need to be cowardly to deceive the Tsarina."
Finally, he turned to the firebird, and stroked its shining feathers, and said, "Dearest firebird, I bid you take my heart and keep it safe, for I must be quite heartless to deceive the Tsarina."
They promised each to guard what he had given into their care, and Prince Ivan left them and went to the palace of Tsarina Elena.
There he begged an audience with the tsarina, and he was so weak and simpering and pathetic the guards took pity on him and granted his request. Prince Ivan went before Tsarina Elena the Fair and said to her, "Beautiful Tsarina of Unsurpassed Magnificence, I am but a homeless prince, hated by his jealous, unworthy brothers, banished by his father, seeking a place I might call home."
When the tsarina asked why his problems should concern her, Prince Ivan told her that his brothers hated him because his magic was greater, and they had lied to and deceived his father until they convinced him to cast Prince Ivan out. Having nowhere to go, he had journeyed to her, eager to see if the tales of her magical prowess were true. "For I am but a novice before your great skill, Majesty," he said. "If you would but teach me what you know, gladly would I be your slave."
Amused and flattered, and taken by the foolish prince's magnificent beauty, the tsarina assented to his request, and took him as her slave, silently vowing to teach him nothing, but the most trivial of spells and tricks.
The days and weeks passed as Prince Ivan searched for the secret to breaking the curse laid upon his friends, but all his efforts were in vain for he could find not even a hint of a solution.
By and by, the tsarina made him her lover, and dutifully Prince Ivan went to her bed when bid. Whenever he could, he snuck off to the forest to be with his friends, and their presence and comfort renewed his determination to set them free.
One night, lying on the floor after she had dismissed him from her bed, Prince Ivan had a sudden thought, and decided it was worth trying. "Beautiful Tsarina, I am stupid and in need of advice. I wish to curse my brothers for the way they treated me, but I know not how to ensure the curse is never broken."
The tsarina laughed, sated and smug, and told him, "You are stupid, it's true, to be unable to think of anything! Make it so that one who is his kin must kill him, in order to break the curse. No family loyal to them will be able to lift a sword against them, because familial bonds make men weak."
And Prince Ivan knew then how to save the wolf.
Several nights later, lying on the floor beside the tsarina's bed, Prince Ivan asked her, "My most enchanting tsarina, I wish to curse a beautiful woman who spoke against me."
Laughing, the Tsarina replied, "Gullible fool. Say that one who will never find her beautiful must kill her, because all men are weak against the beauty of women, and would never be willing to slay one."
And Prince Ivan knew then how to save the mare.
Several nights later, lying on the floor beside the tsarina's bed, Prince Ivan asked her, "I am hopeless, my most perfect tsarina. There is a man I want to curse, but his bodyguard prevented me. I desire revenge on the bodyguard, to curse him brutally, but I know not how to ensure the curse is never broken."
The tsarina laughed, and said, "You really are stupid. Say that only one who loved him truly must kill him to break his curse, for even if someone could love a man meant only to die for others, love makes men weak and no man could kill the one he loves."
And Prince Ivan knew then how to save the firebird.
The next day, while they in the library researching an old spell for the tsarina, Prince Ivan picked up a book of myths and opened it to a particular page, then began to laugh loudly. The tsarina looked up, annoyed, and demanded to know what a fool found amusing, slapping him for good measure.
"It is only that this book has gotten the Tree of Golden Apples completely wrong," Prince Ivan said, showing her the picture of a legendary tree whose fruit granted eternal youth and life. His father's tree was only a charm, meant for amusement, but the tsarina would never know that. "My father's Tree of Golden Apples looks completely different."
She looked at him sharply. "Your father cannot have such a tree; it does not exist."
"But it does," Prince Ivan said. "My father is three hundred years old, he stole the tree from a witch at the ends of the earth. I am not allowed to have an apple, however, until I make of myself a proper prince, with a palace and wealth and wife of my own. That was the condition he set, when he cast me out at the bidding of my brothers."
The tsarina smiled at him, gentle and sweet, voice dripping with adoration as she said, "You may write to your father and tell him you are to wed me and become a true tsar. You have been my faithful slave for a year and a day now, and proven yourself handsomely. Tell your father to send his golden apples as our wedding gift. We shall be married in a fortnight." And she bid him kiss her, and then go and write his letter.
Instead, Prince Ivan raced off to the cabin in the forest, and told his friends of the marriage, and that it was part of his plan. He bid them to come to the palace in a fortnight, when the wedding bells first tolled, and to enter the great hall when the wedding bells finally ceased, and then he would free them. He begged them to trust him, and they made known they trusted him whole-heartedly.
Prince Ivan departed, and spent the fortnight bracing himself for what he must do on his wedding day.
At last the day came, and Prince Ivan wed the tsarina, and became her regent. He kissed her and said, "Most beautiful wife, light of my life, I have for you three wedding gifts."
As he finished speaking, the wedding bells ceased to ring, and he bid the doors be opened. As they opened, the wolf, the mare, and the firebird entered.
The tsarina paled, but could say nothing, could do nothing, for on his lips Prince Ivan had placed poison, and with his kiss the tsarina had been frozen in place.
Drawing his sword as his friends approached, Prince Ivan turned to the wolf and said, "You are my friend, my brother in deed, and now in fact. True family bonds strengthen a man, rather than weaken him, and so I set you free." So saying, he swung his sword, and cut off the wolf's head—
And before him suddenly stood a tall, broad, handsome man with dark hair and pale eyes, and the bearing of a tsar. "My friend, my brother," Tsar Grey said, "I thank you from the bottom of my heart." He embraced Prince Ivan, and declared him the strongest of men.
Turning to the mare, Ivan said, "You are dear to me like a sister, but never will I be drawn to your beauty like most men, for I have never cared to take a woman to my bed. Because my eyes will always pass over you, I set you free." So saying, he thrust his sword into the mare's neck, killing her—
And suddenly before him was a woman with golden hair and a sweet smile. "Thank you, my brother," she said, and kissed his cheeks, and declared that no man could possess greater honor.
Ivan turned to the firebird, whose eyes of crystal clarity watched him intently. The firebird sang a few soft, sweet notes, and Prince Ivan found he still had the strength to do what must be done. "Dearest firebird, ever have you called to me, thought I could not at first fathom why. Your songs drew me into a world greater than my own, and my world faded without you in it. Because I love you, I set you free." So saying, he cut off the firebirds bowed head, then dropped his sword, weeping—