First Visit: The North

It was almost a year before the first visitor arrived for Eleanor. She had prepared the guards to expect entertainers to be visiting her, and thankfully no one asked too many questions.

The first visitor, named Yaroslav, came from a kingdom so far north that he had never seen green grass. In his land of Vikings and nomads, he had been a Viking king's entertainer. Yaroslav was not a troubadour like Pierre. He had never performed or written a traditional epic poem. His French was poor, and Eleanor wondered why Pierre had sent this man.

"Sir Pierre told me that you are looking for great stories. I do not mean to boast, but I witnessed one of the most miraculous events. He said that you would want to hear." Eleanor sat, ready to hear the story Yaroslav had traveled thousands of miles to share.

Though I worked for the Viking king, I mostly entertained his daughter, Princess Agatha. She was bored and dissatisfied with her life, and the only reprieve from her melancholy was when I performed and made her laugh.

One day, her father had to deal with large uprisings. Princess Agatha didn't care much for matters of state, but she had heard stories about this man who was stirring up trouble, and she was intrigued. She sat in the receiving hall, at her father's side. The man entered the hall happily, as if he wasn't about to face the wrath of the Viking king.

"I will give you a chance to explain yourself, the king said. "Prove to me you're not guilty of witchcraft and villainy."

"My king, I am Emilian. While fishing, I caught a huge pike. Rather than eat it, we made a bargain: if I released him back to the water, I could do anything by merely saying 'By the Pike's command' followed by what I want. It worked! Trouble started when I used my ability to have my cart go through the town without my horse as she was lame. The crowd assumed it was witchcraft. However, I am a good Christian man. Surely you see that."

The Viking king hardly hesitated before he shouted, "This man is guilty of witchcraft. Guards, take him!"

"No!" Agatha explained that she had fallen in love with this man from the stories she had heard and from the first moment she saw him. She said if her father killed this man, she would kill herself.

The Viking king is a ruthless leader, so I was surprised when he freed Emilian and told his daughter to begin making wedding preparations. "I won't stand in the way of true love," he said. There were clouds in his eyes. We could only await the lightning.

Agatha and Emilian were married within a fortnight. I entertained the couple in their chambers every evening. One night, the king called me to his chambers.

"Yaroslav, you have always been loyal. I have a special task for you. Tonight, you are to entertain the newlyweds as you never have before. And whatever you see, do not stop performing."

"My king, you ought to tell me what I may see, so that I do not waver."

"While you are performing, guards will sneak into the room, put the newlyweds in a bathtub, cover the tub with tar, and throw them in the ocean."

"My king, what is the meaning of this? How could you do this to your daughter?"

"She has married a heretic. Not only does that show a lack of judgement on her part, but extreme weakness. I cannot have that kind of weakness in my family, breeding my successors. They must both be gone, and I say good riddance."

I did not want to have anything to do with this, but what was I to do? No matter what I did, the king would have his way. At least this way, the last thing my princess would see would be a friend. And so the deed was done.

The next day, the king ate his breakfast. No one would guess he had killed his own daughter the night before.

"Father!" Everyone in the dining hall looked up to see Agatha and Emilian marching in. Rather than looking half-dead, they had even finer clothes than before, immaculate hair and comportment.

"When you tried to have us killed, you forgot two important details: the strength of our love, and the gifts of my husband. It took him no time to save us by the command of the pike. By the command of the pike, he built us our own castle, finer than yours and just across the way. Not only have you failed, Father, but you will be reminded of your failure every day."

The Viking king ran to the receiving hall. Through the window in front of his throne he could see the most beautiful castle.

And so, Agatha and Emilian live happily in their castle with me and endless laughter.

Yaroslav stood before Eleanor. "I hope the story was to your satisfaction, my queen."

"Thank you for sharing such a beautiful story. You say the princess is happy?" Eleanor asked, blinking back tears.

"Yes, my queen."

"Well, I am glad of it. Most of us become imprisoned by one man or another. I suppose not all of us can escape our gilded cages. I am happy to hear of one who did."

Yaroslav stood for a long time, staring at the floor. Finally, he looked back at her. "But stories will help you fly."

Author's Note: The original story is a Russian story called Emilian The Fool. I stayed close to the major plot points of the story itself. However, I told it from the perspective of the court's performer and added him into the capturing scene. I chose this story because I think Eleanor can relate to it: A woman who is in a position of power and yet still restricted by the men in her life. I so wanted to have Eleanor's reaction to the story which I could not originally have due to the length of the story. So when editing, I went back through and attempted to trim as much as possible so I could fit in Eleanor's reaction to the story at the end.

During Eleanor's time Russia wasn't a country yet. I didn't want to get into the specific politics of the time, but I wanted to maintain the source of the story. So I kept it vague with "Viking king" as the land of Russia was often falling into the hands of Vikings, Turks, Byzantine Empire, and many other tribes. Russia was truly too far away and not a world power to be much cause for concern for the French and English.

Emilian The Fool: Russian Fairy Tales by W. R. S. Ralston (1887).