Ilia Muromec of Russia

When we think of Russia, we picture a vast, dark land—a country of long winters, heavy snow, and ice. It was here, long ago, in the city of Kiev, that the hero Ilia Muromec was born.

At that time, a great castle stood in the city, well guarded by Ilia Muromec and his twelve armed knights. For thirty long years they had kept watch at their post, and no stranger had ever passed by them.

But one morning, Dobrnja, the knight second in power to Ilia Muromec, noticed on the ground the imprint of a horse's hoof. He said to the knights, "Now the mighty Zidovin is near our castle. What is your will?"

The knights agreed that Dobrnja should ride out against the stranger. So Dobrnja mounted his war-horse and galloped forth to meet Zidovin, calling out in a deep, gruff voice: "Here, insolent sir, you have come all the way to our castle and have failed to send greeting to our captain Ilia Muromec or to tell him of your approach."

When Zidovin heard these words, he turned quickly and rode toward Dobrnja with such force that springs and lakes appeared wherever the hooves of his black horse touched the ground. The trembling of the earth caused great waves to rise on the sea.

Dobrnja was so frightened that he jerked his horse around and galloped back to the castle as fast as a whirlwind. When he entered, almost exhausted, he excitedly told of his encounter.

Immediately Ilia decided to go forth himself against the enemy, and all the pleas of his knights could not stop him. So he rode to a high place where he could see Zidovin, watching him throw his hundred-pound club into the clouds, catch it with one hand, and swing it around as if it were a feather.

Then Ilia spurred his horse and rode toward Zidovin. A terrible fight began. Swords clashed, and deep cracks opened in the earth, but neither knight fell. It seemed as if both heroes had grown fast to their saddles, so unshakeable were they.

At last, they jumped from their horses and fought hand to hand with lances. All day and all night they struggled, until Ilia finally fell to the ground, wounded. Zidovin knelt on his chest, drew out a sharp knife, and was about to cut off his enemy's head.

Meanwhile, Ilia thought, "Surely the holy fathers did not lie to me when they said I should not lose my life in battle."

Then suddenly he felt his strength double, and with immense force he threw Zidovin off, sending him flying so high that his body touched the clouds before falling to the damp earth at his feet. Cutting off the warrior's head, he mounted his horse and rode back to the castle. To his knights he said, "Thirty years have I ridden in the field and thirty years have I fought with heroes and tested my strength; but such a mighty man as Zidovin I have never met."