The Salt Krasnals

by Richard Monte

  “It is a nasty place,” he said quietly.

  “Nasty?… No one has ever escaped from there. It is a realm of silence and darkness where the evil witch Baba Jaga lives and rules in her gingerbread cottage deep in the larch trees. The whole place has been suffocated by the icy breath of winter. They say icicles hang like long bony fingers from the branches of the topmost boughs, poisoning all who dare to walk beneath them. Believe me your brothers would not have stood a chance if they had entered the White Forest without first coming to me.”

  Skarbnik’s words sent a shiver down Hrapek’s back, but still he couldn’t stop himself asking more questions.

  “But what is all this fuss about? They mentioned the salt queen. Do they really need to travel as far as Krakow?”

  To Hrapek’s surprise, Skarbnik shifted uneasily in his chair.

  “There is something you need to know… My daughter is overcome with grief… It seems there is no medicine for that. My only hope lies with the salt queen as well. I must say nothing more now…”

  Hrapek suddenly recalled the deep sadness in the White Lady’s eyes.

  “A face of extraordinary beauty, and yet no smile shone upon it…” he whispered to himself.

  All of a sudden Skarbnik leaned into the krasnal’s face. His voice sounded hoarse, as rough as sand or gravel. There was intense pain in his sorrowful eyes.

  “Do you know how amazing the fragrance of flowers can be?”

  As if under a spell, the krasnal closed his eyes and suddenly he remembered clearly the old times when he used to leave the mine and walk through the great forest in the world above. Once he had spotted delicate spring flowers – some miniature purple violets – hiding. He had felt compelled to kneel upon the forest floor and hold the silky petals gently in his tiny fingers. The aromatic scent had wafted up to his sensitive, stubby little nose. And the funny thing – Hrapek remembered what a miraculous time that was and suddenly his heart began to beat really fast. More than ever he longed to go out into the world again and find his brothers!

  “Yes…” Hrapek felt dizzy and could hardly utter a word.

  “Yes, I think I do,” he answered at last.

  “Well, don’t you pity us ghosts, trapped down here in this mine? What is the scent of a flower to us?” said Skarbnik bitterly.

  Hrapek fiddled nervously with the glossy button on his blue and green check waistcoat and listened as the ghost continued.

  “It was not just your little world that changed when the salt queen founded this mine. When my dear daughter fell madly in love with a poor miner I had to convince her of the terrible danger she was in. Alas, love is too powerful an emotion even for me to extinguish. His name was Stach. Every day they met. Every day he brought back enchanting tales of marvels from the mysterious world above, until my daughter felt her destiny was to join him there. I warned her… I warned her of the great dangers of forgetting where you belong. Then a brutal war broke out in the world of men, as it always does. Stach was called upon to fight and never returned to the mine,” finished Skarbnik gloomily.

  “Perhaps he is alive!” said Hrapek trying to be more hopeful, but Skarbnik looked forlorn and he felt sorry for him.

  “No, he was killed in battle. A ruthless Tatar blade severed his neck. I heard the whole story from a travelling wolf. He is gone, Hrapek. His soul, condemned to wander the world forever seeking the enigmatic woman he loved, strayed into the White Forest where the evil witch imprisoned him.”

  “But surely I saw your daughter in the palace garden, leaning over the pretty flowers,” said Hrapek suddenly remembering his encounter.

  Skarbnik sighed. “Alas, nothing in that garden was real. I try to please her by conjuring up mirror images from the world above. Her only comfort is a dusty little scrapbook of pressed flowers. Wild violets, white daisies and shiny golden buttercups which Stach brought to her. But now these have faded. Nothing lasts forever…”

  Even Hrapek, the grumbler, was beginning to tire of Skarbnik’s gloomy thoughts.

  “All these words will achieve nothing. Action is what is needed. We must rescue Stach’s ghost from the grasping clutches of the evil witch and let him return to your beloved daughter in the mine,” he said standing up abruptly, as if to prove his point.

  Skarbnik raised an eyebrow.

  “So, are you ready?” he asked, not completely sure if the krasnal was really being serious.

  “I am… I will… I mean I am going to find my brothers and together we’ve got a couple of tasks to complete, including rescuing my sister and the poor ghost of this man who your daughter loves!” exclaimed Hrapek, hardly able to believe his words.

  “Well go on then, there’s no time to lose. What are you waiting for?” Skarbnik was impatient now.

  Hrapek gathered himself together and marched through the salt corridor towards the oak door of the palace, with the ghost following closely behind.

  “The globe… Hrapek, the globe… you must take good care of it. I only wish I had stressed this more, when I gave it to your brothers. It holds the dormant seeds of an ancient forest… I found them deep within the mine. Only the salt queen, the gentle and wise Kinga, has the power to bring these seeds to life. Without this your quest will fail and the malignant witch will capture you all…”

  But Hrapek was gone. Hopping down the long passage that led back to the salt house. He’d never felt so bold in his life!

  Mushrooms for Three

  Gappek and Bulbek left the squirrels’ house in the yew tree early the next day. They reached the foot of the grassy hill by dusk, deciding to camp and have a small supper, before tackling their climb in the morning. A hole in the hollowed out trunk of an elderly oak tree, provided a cosy shelter. Gappek rolled out their straw mats and made everything as comfortable as possible, while Bulbek looked around for some pieces of tinder. Fire always meant danger – it certainly wasn’t something to play with – but the krasnals knew that leaping flames would keep predators away.

  “If we think we’re in any danger at least we can climb into this tree,” said Gappek, looking up into the thick branches of the old oak. Lights stared back at him from the windows of the houses above.

  “I think I’ve had enough of climbing trees for a while. We might not be so lucky next time!” said Bulbek, stacking the fire with wood.

  “Yes, I suppose those squirrels were rather welcoming in the end.”

  Gappek had the hole for resting fixed up in no time and was lying on his back with his head sticking outside, looking up at the sky. An enormous yellow moon filled the darkness and all around there were golden stars twinkling like flickering candles in the night.

  “I wonder what Hrapek’s doing now? He’d like it here,” said Gappek.

  “Hrapek is a stubborn old fool and he knows it,” said Bulbek trying to light the fire with a spark. Soon the orange flames came alive and a thin trail of smoke was blowing away towards the hill. Once when the breeze changed direction they heard a voice shout out,

  “Hey you pesky krasnals down there! Keep your smoke under control! I’ve got babies to think about!”

  A window banged shut.

  “Dampen that fire a bit, Bulbek, we don’t want to annoy the neighbours too much!”

  Ever since they had set out Bulbek had been collecting little orange chanterelles. A couple of dozen in fact made a marvellous soup cooked on an open flame with a few sprigs of wild parsley thrown in. Now that’s what every krasnal dreamed about.

  “Hrapek’s a fool,” was all Bulbek could repeat as he stirred the pan.

  A light supper (as it only consisted of a single dish) was followed by sleep. Bulbek put out the fire and joined his brother inside the hole.

  “This is almost as cosy as Mossypot’s house,” said Bulbek, pulling his tiny blanket tight around him.

  Gappek didn’t answer. He was thinking of the salt house hidden away in the mine and in particular the bunk he had shared with Malinka.

  “Hey Gappek? What do you
say? This is cosy, isn’t it?”

  “We’re not at home and this is not Mossypot’s house. It doesn’t give me the same feeling. You know what I mean? Are you sure it’s safe here?” he trembled.

  “Just because it’s dark there’s no need to be afraid,” said Bulbek rolling himself in the blanket and getting comfortable. It wasn’t long before he was snoring gently through his nostrils.

  For Gappek the night was filled with strange sounds. He lay awake for a while listening to the muffled hoot of an owl. Perhaps it was hiding in the tree above them preparing to hunt. A light shower dripped onto the grass outside and the faint wind blew quietly through the trees. All these Gappek had heard before on previous short excursions into the world above.

  But there was a more unusual noise in the air, something which reminded him of the salt mine. It was faint at first, carried on the gentle wind from a far place. Gappek sat up. Bulbek had stopped snoring and was sleeping like a log. There it was again. A faint thud like a drum-beat which sent little tremors through the ground and shook the tree trunk. Bulbek snorted in his sleep, but didn’t wake up. Gappek eventually dozed off dreaming of two black leather boots tramping their way through the countryside.

  Bleary-eyed, he woke before his brother. He liked the time of day which fell between the waking sun and the passing of the night. In the salt mine there was no distinction between dawn and dusk. But out here the nocturnal creatures were already scuttling away to find a familiar nest or a deep burrow to hide in until the darkness returned.

  Gappek watched an eagle owl disappearing into a tree; a tawny rabbit scampering around, making the most of the quietness of sunrise. He stretched and sniffed the fresh, clear air, feeling thirsty after the salty soup they had eaten the night before. He looked around for a lake to wash his face in. Skipping through the bushy undergrowth, over the spongy moss and the crackling twigs, towards the crystal sound of water splashing its way over the smooth boulders and shiny stones of a babbling stream. Soon he was kneeling down, letting the tiny translucent drops fall into his mouth.

  Refreshed and cheerful, he felt ready for a hearty breakfast. He knew his lazy brother would not agree to go anywhere until their energy levels were restored. He didn’t expect to see Bulbek up, but he wasn’t prepared for the unwelcome sight which greeted him as he drew near to the camp.

  A large, hairy ogre was sitting outside the hole and by the look of it, had already made breakfast. Gappek froze, a cold sweat breaking out over his entire body. What was he to do? He barely dared to look at the rough wiry beard, hairy cheeks and scruffy head. But worse than all this was the ogre’s eye. Right in the centre of its forehead was one enormous shining crystal eye. Any krasnal should have been frightened, for the ogre was much bigger than them, but the sight of it tucking into their hard picked mushrooms was just too much to take and any fear the little krasnal may have had, just vanished as he strode between the two oak trees where they had set up their camp for the night.

  “Hey! Shoo! Be off with you! Scavenger!”

  Gappek sounded very angry and his voice, suddenly much bigger than usual, boomed through the trees like thunder. Even Bulbek woke instantly and poked his head out of the hole. The sight of the ogre sitting beside the mushroom pan made him roll out incensed.

  “Let go of those mushrooms this minute!” he roared at the top of his voice, as he struggled to pull on his olive green trousers.

  The wily ogre looked rather amused at an attack by these two intrepid strangers, who obviously had a thing about mushrooms.

  “Krasnals! Camping in the forest – what a lovely idea for a holiday. I thought you fellows never leave your old salt mine,” he chuckled, sniffing the appetising smell coming from the bubbling pan, where the wild mushrooms were frying away nicely.

  “What are you doing eating our breakfast?” Gappek shouted as he approached the fire.

  “I’m minding my own business, at least I was, until you fellows turned up,” said the ogre.

  “You’re interfering with our business more like. How much longer are you going to fry those mushrooms, I mean our mushrooms?” asked Bulbek.

  “I tell you what, why don’t you two strangers, join me for breakfast. I could do with the company. We can introduce ourselves better, over these golden beauties.”

  “Golden beauties! Another minute longer in that pan and you’ll turn them into charcoal!” exclaimed Bulbek despondently.

  Gappek didn’t wait any longer. He grabbed hold of the pan, no thought about how hot it might be, and began serving the delicious mushrooms, reluctantly making up a third dish for their uninvited guest.

  “I spotted your fire last night. Well I detected it – I’ve got an exceptionally good nose for all sorts of interesting smells you see. Now I said to myself, it can’t be another band of those Tatars set up camp again! Besides haven’t seen many of those cruel warmongers for a while now. Got as far as Krakow and then turned back, for some reason. Now that’s not my—”

  “Do you mind if one of us gets a word in, ‘Glasseye’?” interrupted Gappek rather rudely.

  “Impertinent little fellow, aren’t you. Don’t forget I could eat both of you little chaps for breakfast if I wanted to,” said the ogre not overly pleased at being called ‘Glasseye’.

  “What exactly are these Tatars you speak of?” asked Bulbek steering the conversation wisely back to the ogre’s obvious interest.

  The ogre laughed raucously and his cheeks blew in and out.

  “You’re not telling me you have never heard of a Tatar? You krasnals really do spend too much time underground. They ride wildly on horseback, charging through deep forests, tearing down the strongest trees, burning and killing anything which lies in their path. Horse and man locked together as if they were one being, with four legs and two heads!”

  Gappek almost choked on the last piece of mushroom. All this talk of forest fires had suddenly made him think of the smoke in the pine forest. Was this the one-eyed creature Mossypot had spoken of?

  For a moment an uncomfortable silence hung in the air.

  “You said they left Krakow?” asked Bulbek quietly, a few moments later.

  “They come and go. There’s no knowing when they will be back. They kill everything which crosses their path. Which makes me wonder what a couple of harmless little fellows are doing wandering around in this dangerous world.”

  “We are on our way to Krakow. To see the salt queen. This is certainly not a holiday as you suggested. It’s a serious matter…”

  Bulbek stopped for a moment to gather his thoughts, then continued:

  “In fact we’re heading for the White Forest.”

  “You’ve got more chance of finding gold-dust on the moon, than getting out of that forest alive! I suggest you go back to your little home in the salt mine, now. Before it is too late.”

  Gappek started to feel like a lost child astray in a big dangerous world and wished he was back in the salt house sitting by his warm fire. Bulbek snatched up their pack and slung it towards his brother, forgetting that the salt globe was inside. The bag hit the ground and the little ball rolled out onto the grass.

  For a moment the sun caught it and light penetrated the salt, revealing millions of tiny little grains within.

  “Wow! Look Gappek, did you see that! There’s something unusual inside this globe!”

  The ogre remained silent for a moment, but his crystal eye shone as it always did when he spotted some rare treasure on the earth. The water-logged fields which swept around Krakow were often churned up in battles, not far from the cave where he lived in the hills. How many precious things had he found upon his travels through these marshes: gilt-edged swords, bronze arrows, silver brooches, glittering trinkets… But it wasn’t just battle grounds which he plundered. His hands reached into smaller crevices, for he often bullied defenceless creatures into stealing various items for him – little keepsakes from underground burrows; paintings from churches in Krakow; and even treasures from inside the s
alt mine…

  “Bulbek, we must leave at once and get to Krakow as quickly as possible!”

  The ogre’s eye glinted.

  “Perhaps this is an opportunity for me to show you my true nature. Please accept a helping hand: I know the lie of the land as well as the hair on my head. I can smell danger before it has a chance to strike. You see this nose. Let me tell you it has got me out of many scrapes. It will be a pleasure for me to accompany you to Krakow…”

  Travelling with a companion who was certainly experienced and gifted, as well as capable of being a bodyguard, sounded like the perfect idea.

  “Let’s waste no more time. Where are the pans and blankets? Quick!” shouted Bulbek, popping the globe back into the bag.

  Mossypot and the Secret Tunnels

  Hrapek danced around and hummed like an excited bee. He checked all twenty nine salt ornaments were in place on the mantlepiece, the glass teapot had been emptied and that there were plenty of dried lavender flowers under each pillow, so all the beds would be nice and fresh on their return. Then snatching up a bag he opened the back door and skipped up the stairs, not daring to glance round just in case he changed his mind.

  Where were his brothers? Hrapek had no answer to this question. One thing was sure, they must have made for the pine forest. It was the first place they always visited on little trips ‘upstairs’. A long, long time ago, Hrapek had even been on a few. Gathering old pieces of pine wood for a new cupboard; picking bilberries for a delicious summer salad. Memories were flicking like pictures through his mind. The little krasnal even felt like whistling his favourite tune as he walked under the blue sky. There was nothing he liked better than to listen to the sweet songs of birds, and although he would never admit it, Hrapek felt a real fondness for their beautiful music deep in his heart. Yes, it made him want to whistle even more and besides he was on his own. He didn’t have to worry about what the others thought.

  Still whistling happily to himself, Hrapek found a dusty gravel path that led through the forest and was soon dwarfed by the giant pine trees.