For a while Relya hesitated, and then he cried:
“I am going up the Mountain to win the Cross and Girdle, and then I shall return to thee, O my castle.”
Thus cried Relya; he made the sword sing through the air above his head, and then strode swiftly up into Mount Kitesh. There he found the great Dragon asleep in the deep gully. You see, the Dragon had tired himself out with belching so much fire at Primrose, and now he had gone fast asleep to gather fresh strength.
But Relya was all impatience to fight someone so as to cool his anger and to prove his strength. He was tired of seeing everybody, both great and small, get out of his way all the time, so now he rushed up to the Fiery Dragon to rouse and dare him to mortal combat.
Relya was a Doughty Hero, and the Fiery Dragon was a Terrible Monster, and so their combat must be sung in verse, beginning where Relya rushed up to the Dragon:
Childe Relya smote the Dragon on the sideWith the flat blade, to rouse him from his sleep.The Beast looked up, raising his grisly head,Beheld the hero Relya standing by.Up leapt the Dragon, with a rending blowO’erturns the cliff and widens out the gapTo make a fitting space wherein to fight!Anon unto the clouds he rears him up;Anon on Relya pounces from the clouds,And so with Relya joins in mortal fray.Now groans the earth and splits the solid rock.With tooth and flame the Dragon turns to bay,And thrusts at Relya with his fiery head.But Relya waits him with a ready sword,And meets the onslaught with a ready sword;And with his weapon beating down the flameSeeks for the sword an undefended spot,Where he may smite the Dragon on the head.Deep bites the brand—so mighty was the shockThat brand and bone no more will come apart.From dawn till noontide did the battle rage,And weaker grew the Dragon all the while,With brooding on the shame that galled his heart,Because the babe, young Primrose, had escaped.And stronger grew Childe Relya all the while,For he did battle for his heritage.When at high noon the sun burned overhead,Childe Relya swung his gleaming brand aloftTowards the sun, and called on Heaven for aid.Down fell the sword betwixt the Dragon’s eyes—Full swiftly fell, yet lightly struck the blade,Yet with such force, it cleft the Beast in twain.Into the hollow falls the Dragon, slain,And as stretched him in his dying spasm,The monstrous limbs block up the ancient chasm.
Childe Relya smote the Dragon on the sideWith the flat blade, to rouse him from his sleep.The Beast looked up, raising his grisly head,Beheld the hero Relya standing by.Up leapt the Dragon, with a rending blowO’erturns the cliff and widens out the gapTo make a fitting space wherein to fight!Anon unto the clouds he rears him up;Anon on Relya pounces from the clouds,And so with Relya joins in mortal fray.Now groans the earth and splits the solid rock.With tooth and flame the Dragon turns to bay,And thrusts at Relya with his fiery head.But Relya waits him with a ready sword,And meets the onslaught with a ready sword;And with his weapon beating down the flameSeeks for the sword an undefended spot,Where he may smite the Dragon on the head.Deep bites the brand—so mighty was the shockThat brand and bone no more will come apart.From dawn till noontide did the battle rage,And weaker grew the Dragon all the while,With brooding on the shame that galled his heart,Because the babe, young Primrose, had escaped.And stronger grew Childe Relya all the while,For he did battle for his heritage.When at high noon the sun burned overhead,Childe Relya swung his gleaming brand aloftTowards the sun, and called on Heaven for aid.Down fell the sword betwixt the Dragon’s eyes—Full swiftly fell, yet lightly struck the blade,Yet with such force, it cleft the Beast in twain.Into the hollow falls the Dragon, slain,And as stretched him in his dying spasm,The monstrous limbs block up the ancient chasm.
Childe Relya smote the Dragon on the sideWith the flat blade, to rouse him from his sleep.The Beast looked up, raising his grisly head,Beheld the hero Relya standing by.Up leapt the Dragon, with a rending blowO’erturns the cliff and widens out the gapTo make a fitting space wherein to fight!Anon unto the clouds he rears him up;Anon on Relya pounces from the clouds,And so with Relya joins in mortal fray.Now groans the earth and splits the solid rock.With tooth and flame the Dragon turns to bay,And thrusts at Relya with his fiery head.But Relya waits him with a ready sword,And meets the onslaught with a ready sword;And with his weapon beating down the flameSeeks for the sword an undefended spot,Where he may smite the Dragon on the head.Deep bites the brand—so mighty was the shockThat brand and bone no more will come apart.From dawn till noontide did the battle rage,And weaker grew the Dragon all the while,With brooding on the shame that galled his heart,Because the babe, young Primrose, had escaped.And stronger grew Childe Relya all the while,For he did battle for his heritage.When at high noon the sun burned overhead,Childe Relya swung his gleaming brand aloftTowards the sun, and called on Heaven for aid.Down fell the sword betwixt the Dragon’s eyes—Full swiftly fell, yet lightly struck the blade,Yet with such force, it cleft the Beast in twain.Into the hollow falls the Dragon, slain,And as stretched him in his dying spasm,The monstrous limbs block up the ancient chasm.
Childe Relya smote the Dragon on the side
With the flat blade, to rouse him from his sleep.
The Beast looked up, raising his grisly head,
Beheld the hero Relya standing by.
Up leapt the Dragon, with a rending blow
O’erturns the cliff and widens out the gap
To make a fitting space wherein to fight!
Anon unto the clouds he rears him up;
Anon on Relya pounces from the clouds,
And so with Relya joins in mortal fray.
Now groans the earth and splits the solid rock.
With tooth and flame the Dragon turns to bay,
And thrusts at Relya with his fiery head.
But Relya waits him with a ready sword,
And meets the onslaught with a ready sword;
And with his weapon beating down the flame
Seeks for the sword an undefended spot,
Where he may smite the Dragon on the head.
Deep bites the brand—so mighty was the shock
That brand and bone no more will come apart.
From dawn till noontide did the battle rage,
And weaker grew the Dragon all the while,
With brooding on the shame that galled his heart,
Because the babe, young Primrose, had escaped.
And stronger grew Childe Relya all the while,
For he did battle for his heritage.
When at high noon the sun burned overhead,
Childe Relya swung his gleaming brand aloft
Towards the sun, and called on Heaven for aid.
Down fell the sword betwixt the Dragon’s eyes—
Full swiftly fell, yet lightly struck the blade,
Yet with such force, it cleft the Beast in twain.
Into the hollow falls the Dragon, slain,
And as stretched him in his dying spasm,
The monstrous limbs block up the ancient chasm.
Thus did the doughty Relya overcome the Fiery Dragon. But his brave arms and shoulders ached terribly. So Relya said to himself: “I shall never get over the Mountain at this rate. I must consider what I had better do.” And Relya went back to the foot of the Mountain, and there the hero sat down on a stone and considered how he was to get across the Mountain, and how he was to overcome the monsters, and where he might find Miloika’s children and with them the Golden Girdle and Cross.
Relya was deep in thought, but all of a sudden he heard somebody weeping and sobbing near him. Relya turned, and there was a Fairy sitting on a stone, her hair all unbound, and crying her heart out.
“What ails you, pretty maiden? Why do you weep?” asked Relya.
“I weep, O hero, because I cannot get the Golden Girdle from the child on the Lake,” answered the Fairy.
When Relya heard that he was overjoyed.
“Tell me, maiden, how can I get to that Lake?” asked Relya.
“And who may you be, unknown hero?” returned the Fairy.
“I am Prince Relya, and I seek a Golden Girdle and a Cross on a red ribbon,” replied Relya.
When the Fairy heard that, she thought within her evil heart: “How lucky for me! Let Relya get the Girdle away from the Lake and on to the Mountain, and I will soon destroy Relya and keep the Girdle for myself.”
So the cunning Fairy spoke these honeyed words to Relya:
“Let us go, noble Prince! I will guide you across the Mountain. No harm will come to you, and I will show you where the children are. Why should you not have what is yours by inheritance?”
Thus sweetly did the Fairy speak, but in her heart she thought otherwise. Relya, however, was mightily pleased, and at once agreed to go with the Fairy.
So they went across the Mountain. Neither Fairies nor monsters touched Relya, because he was being guided by the young Votaress Fairy.
On the way the Fairy advised Relya and tried to fill his heart with anger.
“You should but see, noble Prince, how insolent these children are! Not even to you will they give the Girdle. But you are a hero above all heroes, Relya, so do not let them put you to shame.”
Relya laughed at the idea that two children should withstand him—himwho had cleft in twain the Fiery Dragon!
The Fairy then went on to tell him how the children had come up into the Mountain, and how they did not know how to get away from it again.
In her joy at the prospect of getting the Girdle, the Fairy talked so much that her cunning deserted her, and she chattered to Relya and boasted to him of her knowledge.
“They are silly children, without any cunning. Yet if they knew whatweknow they would have escaped us already. There is a taper in the chapel and a censer. If they would start the fire that is not lit with hands, and then light the taper and censer, they could go with taper and censer across the whole Mountain as if it were a church. Paths would open before them and trees bow down as they passed. But for us this would be the worst thing possible, because all we Fairies and Goblins in Mount Kitesh would perish wherever the smoke from the taper and censer spread. But what do these silly, insolent children know?”
If the Votaress had not been so overjoyed, she would surely never have told Relya about the taper and censer, but would have kept the secret of the Votaresses.
So they came to the furrow, and there was the Holy Lake before them.
The Prince peered cautiously from behind a tree, and the Fairy pointed out the children to him. Relya saw the little chapel on the island. Before the chapel sat a little girl, pale as a white rose. She neither sang nor crooned, but sat still with her hands clasped in her lap and her eyes raised to heaven.
On the sand beside the chapel played a little boy, baby Primrose, and round his neck hung a little Gold Cross.
He played on the sand, built castles and pulled them down again with his tiny hands, and then laughed at his handiwork.
Relya watched, and as he watched he began to think. But the Votaress had no time to wait while the Prince finished thinking things out, so she softly prompted Relya.
“I will call to the little girl, noble Prince, and you shall see that she will not give up the Girdle; then do you draw your burnished sword, go up and take what is yours, and then come back to me to the Mountain, and I will guide you back down the Mountain so that my sisters shall not hurt you.”
As the Fairy said this, she secretly rejoiced, thinking how easily she would kill Relya and get the Girdle for herself, so long as Relya would bring it from the Lake. But Relya only listened with half an ear to what the Votaress was saying, for he was lost in looking at the girl.
The Fairy called to Lavender:
“Little girl, sister, throw me the Girdle, and I will take you and your brother down the Mountain.”
When Lavender heard this, her face grew yet paler, and she clasped her little hands yet more tightly. She was so sad that she could scarcely speak. She would so gladly have left the Mountain; her little heart was bursting with longing.
But all the same she would not part with her mother’s Girdle.
Tears flowed down Lavender’s face; she wept softly, but through her tears she answered:
“Go away, Fairy, and do not come back again, because you will not get the Girdle.”
When Relya saw and heard this, his princely blood, his noble blood, was roused within him, but to a good purpose.
He was filled with pity for these two poor orphans in the midst of the grisly Mount Kitesh, defending themselves all alone against monsters and temptations, death and destruction. “Great Heavens!” thought he, “the princess trusted in her armed warriors and her strongholds to defend her lands, and the lands were lost; but these babes are left alone in the world, they have fallen among Fairies and Dragons, yet neither Fairies nor Dragons can rob them of what their mother gave them.” All Relya’s face changed as his heart went out with pity to the children. Thus changed, he turned towards the Votaress.
The Votaress looked at Relya. Why did he raise his sword? Was it to cut down those insolent children? No; Relya raised the sword aloft and threatened the wicked Fairy with it.
“Fairy, avaunt! as if you had never been! If you had not been my guide across the Mountain, I would strike your fair head from off your shoulders. I was not born a prince, nor did I forge this mighty sword that I might roam the world a spoiler of the fatherless!”
The poor Votaress was quite frightened. She started, and then fled to the hills. And Relya shouted after her:
“Go, Fairy! call your fairies and monsters! Prince Relya does not fear them!”
When the Fairy had run off to the hills, Relya crossed the furrow and went towards the children on the island.
How happy was Lavender when she saw a human being coming towards them and looking at them kindly! She sprang to her feet and stretched out both her arms, as a captive bird spreads its wings when you open your hand and let it go free.
Lavender was quite certain that Relya had come up only to bring them safe back from the Mountain. She ran to Primrose, took him by the hand, and both crossed over to Relya by the little bridge which they had fashioned with their own tiny hands across the reeds.
A doughty hero was Relya, and he felt strange talking to children. But the children did not feel in the least strange talking to a hero, because they thought kindly of everybody, and there was no guile in their hearts.
Primrose took hold of Relya’s hand and looked at his great sword. The sword was twice as big as Primrose! Primrose reached up with his little hand; he stood on tip-toe, and yet he could scarcely touch the hilt of it. Relya looked, and never had he seen such tiny hands beside his own. Relya was now in a sad quandary; he forgot all about the Girdle and Cross as he thought: “What shall I say to these poor orphan babes? They are little and foolish, and they do not understand.”
Just then Lavender asked Relya:
“And how shall we get out of the mountains, my lord?”
“Well, that is quite a sensible little girl,” considered Relya. “Here am I, marvelling how small and foolish they are, and never thinking that, after all, we have to get out of the mountains.”
Then Relya remembered what the Votaress had told him about the taper and censer.
“Listen to me, little girl! The Votaress has gone to call her sisters to help her, and I am going on to the Mountain to meet them. Please God, I shall overcome the Votaress Fairies, return to you by the Holy Lake, and lead you away from the Mountain. But if the fairies should overcome me, if I perish on the Mountain, then do you start the fire that is not lit with hands, light the taper and censer, and you will pass over the Mountain as though it were a church.”
When Lavender heard this, she was sadly grieved, and said to Prince Relya:
“You must not do that, my lord! What shall we poor orphans do if you perish on the Mountain? You have only just come to be our protector, and if you were to leave us straightway and get killed what should we do? Let us rather set to at once and start the fire, so as to light taper and censer, and do you, my lord, go forth with us over the Mountain.”
But at that Relya became very angry, and said:
“Don’t talk foolishness, you silly child! I was not born a hero for taper and censer to lead me while yet I wear sword by my side.”
“Not taper and censer will lead you, but God’s will and commandment,” replied Lavender.
“Don’t talk foolishness, you silly child! My sword would rust were I to be led by taper and censer.”
“Your sword will not rust when you go a-mowing in field and meadow.”
Relya was troubled. It was not so much Lavender’s words as the sweet, serious look in the little girl’s eyes that troubled him. He knew well enough that he would scarcely overcome the fairies and monsters, and that he would most probably perish if he were to go out to fight on the Mountain.
Little Primrose flung his arms round Relya’s knees and looked at him coaxingly. And Relya’s princely heart beat quick in his bosom, so that he forgot about Cross and Girdle and fight and castle, and all he could think was: “Well, I have to protect and save these faithful little orphans.”
So he said:
“I will not throw away my life out of sheer wilfulness. Come, children, start the fire, light taper and censer; your little hands shall lead me.”
A few moments later, and there was a wondrous marvel to be seen on Mount Kitesh.
A wide path opened all the way down the Mountain, and on the path grew turf as soft as silk. On the right-hand side walked little Primrose, still in his little white shirt, and in his hand he held an ancient wax taper, burning serenely and crackling softly, as though it were talking with the sun. On the left walked Lavender, wearing the Golden Girdle and swinging a silver censer, from which rose a cloud of white smoke. Between the two children strode Relya, tall and strong. It seemed strange to him, in his strength and valour, that taper and censer should thus guide him and not his own good sword. But he smiled gently at the children. His great sword hung over his shoulder, and as he strode on he said to the sword:
“Do not fear, my faithful friend. We shall go a-mowing in field and meadow; we shall clear scrub and forest; we shall hew rafters and build steadings. The sun will gild thee a thousand times while thou art winning bread for these two orphan babes.”
So they went across the Mountain as though it were a church. A thin wraith of smoke rose from the taper, and sacred odours spread from the censer.
But woe and alas for the Votaresses on Mount Kitesh! wherever the smoke and the odour of incense spread upon the Mountain, there the Votaresses perished and died. They made an end, each one as it seemed most beautiful and fitting to her.
One turned herself into a grey stone, and then hurled herself down the rocks into a chasm, where the stone broke into a thousand splinters.
The second changed into a crimson flame, and then at once went out, puff! into the air.
The third dissolved into fine coloured dust, scattering herself over rock and fern. And so each of them chose what seemed to her the most beautiful way to die.
But it really didn’t matter in the least. One way or another, they all had to leave this world, and even the most beautiful ways of dying could not make up for that!
In this way all the seven Votaress Fairies perished, and that is why there are no fairies, nor dragons, nor monsters now on Mount Kitesh or anywhere else in the world.
But Relya and the children reached the valley in safety, and Lavender took them to their cottage. And only then did Relya remember why he had gone up Mount Kitesh.
They went into the cottage and rested a little. Lavender, who knew where was her mother’s modest store cupboard, brought out a little dry cheese, and they refreshed themselves.
But now Relya was puzzled what to do about those two orphans. Ever since they had come down into the valley, Relya’s mind had begun to run once more upon the castle and upon his promise to his mother that he would bring her back the Cross and Girdle.
Therefore Relya said to Lavender:
“Listen to me, little girl: you will have to give me the Golden Girdle and Cross now, you and your brother, because they belong to me.”
“But we belong to you too, my lord,” said Lavender, and looked at Relya quite astonished, because he had not grasped that before.
Relya laughed, and then he said:
“But I must take the Girdle and Cross to my mother.”
When Lavender heard that, she cried out overjoyed:
“Oh, sir, if you have a mother, do go and bring her here to us, because we have no mother now.”
A stone would have wept to hear little Lavender speak of her mother in that poor and bare little cottage! A stone would have wept at the thought that so lovely a child should be left all alone in the world, when she turned to Prince Relya and begged him to bring them a mother because their mother was dead.
Again Relya was filled with pity, so that he almost wept. Therefore he bade the children good-bye and went away to fetch his mother.
It took Relya seven days to return to his mother. She was waiting for him by the window, and when she saw him coming, lo, there was Relya coming home without sword, Cross, or Girdle. Relya never gave her time to ask questions, but called to her in a gentle voice:
“Make ready, mother, and come with me, that we may guard what is ours.”
So they set out together. And on the way the Princess asked Relya whether he had found the Cross and the Girdle, whether he had raised an army and had reconquered their castle and lands?
“I found the Girdle and Cross, mother; but I raised no army, neither have I reconquered our lands. We shall do better without an army, mother, for you shall see what is left to us of our heritage,” said Relya.
After seven days’ travel they reached the cabin where Lavender and Primrose were waiting for them.
Oh, my dear! but there is great joy when kind hearts foregather! The princess hugged Lavender and Primrose; she kissed their cheeks, eyes, hands, and lips, and would scarcely let them go, so dear were they to her, those orphan children from her lost lands!
And so they lived together in the valley, although the little cabin was rather too small for them. But Relya had strong hands, and he built them a little house of stone. Their lives were uneventful, but there was a blessing upon them. Primrose tended the ewes and lambs, Lavender looked after the house and garden, the princess span and sewed, and Relya worked in the fields.
The people of the village got to know the wisdom of the princess and Relya’s strength. Presently they remarked how well the Golden Girdle became the princess, and, although none of them had ever seen the princess before, they said:
“She must be our noble princess.” And so they gave Relya and the princess a great piece of land in the valley, and begged Relya to be their leader in all things and the princess to be their counsellor.
God’s blessing was with Relya’s strength and the princess’s wisdom. Their fields and meadows increased; other villages joined them; gardens and cottages sprang up in the villages.
Meantime the fine lords in the castle went on drinking and feasting as before. Now this had gone on far too long, and although the vaults and cellars of the castle had been the richest in seven kingdoms, yet after so many years of waste there began to be a lack of precious stones.
First of all the gems gave out in the treasure vaults, and then the mother-o’-pearl in the passages. Yet a little while, and there was no more bread for the servants, who had grown lazy. At last there was not even meat for the bloodhounds and guards. The faithless servants rebelled, the hounds ran away, and the guards left their posts.
But all this did not trouble the fine lords, because they had dulled their wits with drinking and feasting. But one fine day the wine gave out.Thenthey decided to hold a council! They met in the great hall and debated upon where they should get wine, because round about the castle all was desolate: the inhabitants had left, and the vines had run wild in the vineyards.
So the fine lords debated. But their vengeful and rebellious servants had cut through the rafters of the great hall, and when the lords were in the midst of their conference the roof fell in upon them. They were buried under the ruins of the great tower of the castle and all of them killed.
When the servants heard the tower crashing and falling, they too deserted the castle.
And so the castle was left without hounds, servants, or fine lords, ruinous and deserted, and dead.
Soon the news of this spread through the land, but not a soul troubled to go and see what had happened in the dead castle. From all sides they flocked together and went to the foot of Mount Kitesh to beg Relya to be their prince, because they had heard of his strength and courage and of the wisdom of the noble princess. Wherefore the people promised with their own hands to build them a new castle, all fair and stately.
Relya accepted the people’s offer, because he rightly judged that God had given him such great strength and courage, and had delivered him from his hot and cruel temper, so that he might be of use to his country.
So Relya became a prince; and the princess, who was getting old by now, yet lived to see great happiness in her old age. And when the princess and Relya, with Lavender and Primrose, entered their new and stately castle for the first time, the village children scattered evergreens and sweet basil on their path, men and woman pressed round the princess, seized the hem of her robe and kissed it.
But the princess, radiant with joy, remembered that but for the loyalty of Lavender and Primrose none of this would ever have come to pass. She clasped the children to her breast and said:
“Happy the land whose treasure is not guarded by mighty armies or strong cities, but by the mothers and children in shepherds’ cots. Such a land will never perish!”
Later on Prince Relya married Lavender, and never in the world was there a princess sweeter and more lovely than Princess Lavender.
Primrose grew up into a brave and handsome youth. He rode a fiery dapple grey, and he would often ride over Mount Kitesh, upon whose summit men were building a new chapel by the Holy Lake.