by Bret Allen
~
The river was a pleasant companion, glittering as it caught the sunlight. The warmth of the sun went some way towards improving Ekaterina’s mood. However, each time she heard a trill of birdsong she looked for a glimpse of the firebird and saw nothing.
After walking for some time, she spotted a man standing in the river, up to his waist in the cold water. For a moment she thought he was Old Grandfather, for the man had long white hair and a beard, but he was younger and powerfully muscled. His upper body was bare and he carried a slender spear that he jabbed into the water to catch fish.
The fisherman looked up and spotted Ekaterina, then waved to her. She hesitated, thinking that he might be dangerous, or as thick-headed as the men of her village. On the other hand, he might have seen the firebird. She decided to speak to him and he waved at her again as she approached. He wore a great smile.
“Hello there, young woman!” called the fisherman. “Are you lost?”
“Not lost, but hunting,” she replied.
The fisherman laughed at her, deep and heartily, with a voice like thunder.
“Forgive me, but you have no weapon,” he said. “I think you may be too small to wrestle a beast to death with your bare hands.”
“I lost my spear, old man. Tell me, have you seen a firebird overhead?”
“No, but I have seen a few faeries and goblins, or maybe you would prefer a unicorn?!” joked the fisherman, laughing again.
She felt like wading in and dunking his head in the water… but he was very big. She decided that a woman must choose her fights carefully.
The fisherman abruptly looked down at the water and then held up his hand for silence. He patiently watched a fish swim by, glinting under the surface, then plunged his spear in. The slender weapon flashed down like a bolt of lightning. He pulled it back with a writhing trout neatly skewered on the end. However, he did not seem pleased.
“This is quite boring,” he said. “You see, I am a hunter myself, not to mention the best fisherman in the forest, so this holds no challenge for me.”
He removed the dead fish and brought it to the bank. He threw it down on a rock to dry. Ekaterina’s stomach was rumbling and it gave her an idea.
“Well, if you’re such a great fisherman, why not catch one for me to eat?” she asked.
“Ha! I have to make a living, pretty one. I cannot just give my catch away. Have you got anything to trade?”
“No,” admitted Ekaterina, but she did not need anything; she intended to play on his boredom instead. “But I thought you’d have fish to spare. Perhaps you aren’t as skilled as you claim…”
“How dare you!” he thundered, though it was only mock anger. “I could catch a fish with my eyes shut, for a beautiful woman like you. Nonetheless, I still do not give my food away for free…”
“Then I propose a wager,” said Ekaterina, adopting a coy, flirtatious tone. “Try to catch one with your eyes shut. If you catch a fish for me, I’ll give you a kiss. If you cannot, I win this fish that you’ve already caught and I’ll tell everyone I see that your boasts are empty.”
“I accept your challenge!” said the fisherman, grinning at her.
Ekaterina felt slightly guilty about tricking the fisherman, especially by using her beauty, but it was hardly her fault if he underestimated her. Besides, he might be lucky and get his kiss; either way, she would get fed.
The fisherman turned his attention towards the river, holding his spear high. He watched the water for a while, standing still and calm. Just as Ekaterina was about to mock him, he winked and shut his eyes. With them firmly closed, he jabbed the spear down. He pulled out of the water a large, struggling trout.
“Ha! Is he big enough for you?” asked the fisherman, laughing.
Ekaterina was impressed and laughed with him, despite herself. He waded back to the shore, holding up his prize.
“I must admit, I tricked you,” he added.
“You tricked me?” she asked, confused.
“This is a magic spear. No matter how quick or shy my prey is, the spear cannot miss. The smith of the gods crafted it from a lightning bolt.”
“No… is that true?”
“You saw for yourself. Now you owe me a kiss. Maybe you should have thought twice about trying to trick me,” he said with a sly smile.
“Very clever, old man,” she admitted.
He came close to her, dripping with water, but then surprised her by tapping his cheek with his finger. She kissed him on the cheek like a daughter would her father, glad that he had not demanded a true kiss. He gestured to Ekaterina to take a seat on a rock. He sat opposite her and stuck his spear into the mud. The weapon was seven feet long and wrapped with strips of cloth, but was not outwardly ornate or special. He stoked the fire and lay the fish down to cook.
“You tried to manipulate a poor old man,” he said with a grin. “However, I will still honour our wager and share my fish with you… if you trade me a story for it. When I am not hunting, I am fighting, and when I am not fighting, I am building. I work so hard, all day and all night, that I have little time to enjoy the simple pleasures of life.”
Ekaterina could see large muscles on his shoulders and arms, despite his age. He also bore many scars. She had no doubt that he was more than just a fisherman. She decided to humour him, since he had been courteous enough to only ask for a chaste kiss.
“That’s fair, but I don’t know any stories,” she said.
“Everyone knows a story! Like the story of how storms are made, when the god of the heavens battles the god of the underworld. Zap! The father of men throws down lightning to destroy the lord of death! The lightning crushes trees and houses, but the snake always slithers away…oh, but he gets him in the end,” he said, laughing in his booming way and gesturing wildly as he spoke.
Ekaterina was inspired by his jollity.
“I know a joke, if that would be acceptable?” she asked.
“Why, that is even better. Please, go on.”
“Okay. There was once a brave peasant man who desired nothing more than to marry a beautiful princess. One day her father, the Tsar, declared that he would give away his daughter’s heart and hand to any man who brought him the head of the dragon that lived in the forest. Well, the peasant saw his chance and swore to kill the dragon. He went forth and fought long and hard and finally killed the great beast. He cut off its head and returned to the Tsar to claim his bride. ‘Here’, he said as he spilled the dragon’s head onto the palace floor, ‘I did as you asked and killed the dragon’. The Tsar replied: ‘Very good. As promised, here is the heart and the hand of the princess.’ Then he threw her bloody heart and severed hand onto the floor as well!”
The fisherman roared with laughter, making birds fly from the trees. Ekaterina laughed too. He pointed at her with a shrewd look on his face.
“You knew I would like a gruesome joke, little one. Very clever. Please, share my fish.”
The fisherman had a small pack with his possessions in; he took out two simple clay plates and put the fish on them. He passed one to Ekaterina and she set about eating it, her stomach aching to be filled. She eyed his magical spear as she ate, wondering how she would ever catch the firebird and fulfil her promise.
Soon the fish was gone. Ekaterina became wary of losing too much daylight. She stood and stretched her legs.
“I must return to my hunt,” she said.
“Very well,” said the fisherman. “You hail from the nearby village, do you not?”
“I do, yes.”
“Tell me, do your people still worship at the shrine of stone and bone?”
Ekaterina was surprised by the question.
“Yes, we do. We often pray to the god of the hunt before we enter the forest.”
“I thought as much. Do you know that your god is also the lord of the underworld? He is Death. Everything goes to him in time, but he is greedy where promises are concerned. In return for his blessing, you owe your kill to him,
as tribute.”
“Death is the companion of the hunter. We have no fear of him,” she replied.
“Then I wish you luck. You will need it without a weapon. I bet you wish you could have one like mine.”
“Don’t tease me. Any hunter would covet an enchanted spear,” said Ekaterina; with such a weapon, the firebird would be hers without a doubt. “Maybe you would let me borrow it? I’ll return it to this very spot tomorrow.”
“Oh, no, I could never do that. A hunter does not use another hunter’s tools. Besides, the magic would not work for you if you did not win it, earn it or pay for it. Perhaps we could make a trade instead?”
“What price for a magical spear?” she asked warily.
“I would have your laughter,” he replied.
“What do you mean?”
“I want your laughter. I am an old man, with little left to enjoy in life. If you will let me have your joy, I will give you this spear, which will make you the most successful hunter of them all.”
“You mock me. How can you take my laughter?” she asked.
He laughed in response.
“When you are as old as me, you will know many tricks. There is nothing that you cannot take from a person, if you know how. A weary old warrior like me needs joy in his life. A young hunter like you has no need of it at all. You seek glory, not amusement.”
Ekaterina pondered his words and knew that he was right. Laughter was for children and it was time to prove that she was no child. Once she had chosen a prey, there was no price that she would not pay to catch it. That was why she was a great hunter and not a laughing fool like the landlord’s son.
“So be it, fisherman. Take my laughter and I will take your spear.”
The fisherman smiled and approached Ekaterina, looming, making her realise just how large and mighty he was. He laid his hand over her mouth; it was rough and calloused and frightened her a little. She tried to speak and he took his hand away, closing it as he did, as if he had caught her breath in his fist.
“Thank you, young woman,” he said with a smile splitting his face. “May the spear always strike true for you.”
Ekaterina was lost for words. The fisherman strode back into the water, laughing as he went, his eyes full of joy. Worried that he would change his mind, she took the magic spear and left him swimming and splashing. She made her way back into the cold forest.