white wind

a novel by maria makedonska

​

part 1. the fire horse

 

. . .

"Uncle Marko," Magda called out to the yard. "Did you hear what happened at dedo* Kratse's?"
"I don't care about your gossip, Magda. Can't you see the boar has gone crazy and shattered the pigsty door?"
"But please, let me tell you?"
" Very well, let's hear the catch. But first, wait a little for me to catch the animal."
The man whom the girl was trying to get attention from had huge, strong hands, and shoulders as wide as a village gate. His face was wild, covered up to his eyes with a thick, curly beard. He was much taller than any other man around. In Magda's eyes, he was a giant, in the eyes of the village girls, he was the subject of giggles and shoves when he walked past them. To the boar, he was an obstacle that needed to be overcome, trampled, and crushed, so, he rushed towards him with all his might, determined to press him to the ground and crush his skull with his hooves. Any other person in Marko's place would have fled at this attack, but not him. Instead, he ran towards the boar, and the two met head-on in the middle of the yard. The boar was expecting escape, not an attack, which surprised him, but his plans remained the same - chase, trample, and crush. Instead, however, he found himself firmly held in a chokehold that forced his head down to the ground. A fist shook him hard on the snout. Once, twice, three times. On the fourth time, the boar lost consciousness and collapsed with all his three hundred kilograms of weight on the ground. Marko released his grip, then crouched down and with a sharp movement threw the huge animal over his shoulder. He carried it towards the destroyed pigsty. The unbearable weight of the boar didn't trouble him at all, but he struggled to remember how tall the pigsty's door was, and his forehead hit the upper board hard. Swearing, he straightened up and threw the boar into the darkness of the pigsty, where two or three pigs squealed. Then the man took a huge hammer and diligently began to fix the broken door, hammering new planks straight onto the old ones.  
Magda couldn't hold back any longer and jumped into the yard agilely.
" Uncle Marko, your strength is incredible. How did you manage to throw that beast over your shoulder?"
Marko himself snorted like a wild animal.
"Well, I am strong, you see. When I was little, a samodiva** breastfed me. That's why I have so much strength that nothing can resist me. "  
"A samodiva!" Magda's eyes flashed.
"And I'll give it to her too if you don't run away somewhere, wild head" the young man threatened her.
"Don’t be so impatient, uncle Marko. Don't you want to hear about the fiery horse in dedo Kratse's yard?
"I don't want to listen to your fantasies."
"Fantasies another time. Dedo Kratse just made a deal with Uncle Kosta to sell him that same horse for a thousand gold coins."
 

*dedo – grandpa, an old man
* samodiva - forest spirits or wood nymphs who appear as beautiful young women

 

"Really!" Marko was genuinely surprised this time. "Your stingy uncle would give a thousand gold coins for a horse?"
Magda smiled broadly, amused by his surprise.
"Come and see for yourself tomorrow at the same time at dedo Kratse's place."
"What's the point?," Marko threw his huge hammer aside.
"Come, come, they might even let you ride it," Magda said.
"I doubt it," sighed Marko. "Who would let the poorest beggar ride such an expensive horse?"
"You never know," grinned Magda devilishly, and dashed towards the fence. With one leap, she landed on it, spread her arms like a skinny bird and then jumped onto the street.
All day, she ran through the fields, stealing apples and pears. She greedily ate the fruits while comfortably nestled in the branches of an old plum tree, her favorite hiding place with its convenient knotty trunk and lush crown that kept her hidden from any pursuers. Just as she was finishing the last juicy but slightly overripe pear, two strangers sat down under the plum tree. They settled in comfortably and spread out a basket full of food, more than Magda had ever seen in one place. All kinds of delicious dishes: roasted meat, big and soft breads, crispy fried bacon with onions, pâté, banitsa*, and pacha**. Despite all the pears and apples, she had eaten, her stomach growled.  Afraid of being discovered, Magda quietly hid behind a large branch, doing what she did best - staying invisible to those she didn't want to see her.
The strangers under the tree laughed loudly at something. Magda listened in on their conversation. Experience had taught her that it was always a good idea to eavesdrop on people. Later, she might be able to use what was heard for something.
"So, you took the old man's land, huh?" asked one of them - small, with a big nose and curly black beard, and while he was speaking, he shoved a whole chicken leg into his mouth.
"I took it, no doubt about it. I traded it for the enchanted young stallion that I stole while the sisters were bathing in the moonlight."
"You're a big devil!" praised the other. "And what will you do with these lands now? I have never heard of a devil who plows and reaps."
"I won't do anything with them. I will bury the property papers under that tree. If someone finds them, they can sweat on the ground. I just wanted to have some fun on the side and see how these peasants would deal with an enchanted forest horse."
"Tomorrow one of the local rich men is supposed to buy it for a thousand golden coins, that's what I heard."
"Well, let him buy it, he's a fool. Nobody can ride that horse, even the best rider."
"Oh, no one, but almost. Only someone who has been breastfed by the forest nymph can ride it, after he says: 'Take me to the one who breastfed me.' and then calls her name. Only then, and only he. Otherwise, no one can stay on it for a minute. I give you an honest devil's word."
"I believe you, buddy, no need to swear on your honesty," said the other, then grabbed a whole beef leg, which he swallowed with a bottle of rakia***.
The two sat and ate all evening. Only when the moon rose, the bearded one said:
"Come on, brother, let's each go our own way to see what there is to steal and misbehave at night."
The two stood up and left without even saying goodbye, they went in different directions. The food tray disappeared immediately after they left, and only the trampled grass showed that someone had been sitting there. Magda, curled up in the plum tree branch, did not hurry to reveal herself because she did not want them to come back and see her, but after about ten minutes, she couldn't stand it anymore, she was too tired. So, she climbed down and ran towards the village. "The windows of the houses had not been lit for a long time, only here and there, a weak light was flickering. Everyone in her uncle's house had also been sleeping for a long time, crowded two or three on the mats. Magda didn't want any board to creak and wake them up, so she headed straight for the barn, curled up in the hay and fell asleep instantly.
The new day came first with a little rain, then with a lot of sunshine, so the earth smelled nice and lively. Magda woke up late. She shuffled around the house to rummage through the cupboard for some leftover bread.

* banitsa is a traditional Bulgarian pastry made with filo dough and typically filled with cheese.
** pacha is a dish made from boiled sheep or cow's feet, head, and other innards.            
*** rakia – strong Bulgarian alcoholic drink, like brandy.

** Yurgancheto – the quilt

 

Every day she had tasks to do with some successes and some failures. Little by little, she checked off her tasks, and this day was good, as she only broke one egg. Satisfied with herself, she sang and jumped around all day. When she finished her tasks, she looked up at the sky and remembered that it was almost time for her uncle to come and take the horse.
"Come on, hurry up!" she commanded herself and quickly obeyed, running up the street. On the way, she suddenly stopped in front of the ramshackle house where she had sat on the wall the day before. She stood on her tiptoes and called out loudly, 'Uncle Marko, come out for a second!" Marko's shaggy head appeared through the window.
"Is it you again, little devil?"
"It's me, it's me. Come down so I can tell you how to ride the horse."
Marko grunted but came down. Like everyone else, he was excited about the talk of the wonderful horse, and this child might be saying something foolish, but you never know. So he came down and leaned against the inside of the wall. He leaned out of the window, which was just high enough for the tiles to reach his armpits. Magda stepped between the stones of the masonry to make her face level with his and told him seriously, "Yesterday I heard that the only way to tame this wild horse is to jump on him from above and say, 'Come on, horse, take me to the one who fed me,' and then say her name. Because only one, breastfeded by forest nymph, could ride it. You told me yesterday that the nymph fed you, that's why you're so strong. Didn't you lie to me?"
"I don't need to lie to you" Marko frowned.
"Then come to dedo Kratse's soon and let's see which way the wind is blowing."
Marko shook his head, but Magda's enthusiasm was infectious, so he eventually agreed to go. Maybe this story of hers would turn out to be true after all. She read his thoughts in his eyes and said, "Come on, uncle Marko, we'll see you there."
After jumping onto the street, she started running up again. When she reached her dedo Kratse’s courtyard, she spotted a group of gypsies hired by her uncle to pull the steed out of the hole. The tough young men had inserted several long, sturdy planks under the horse's belly and were pulling hard on the other ends in an attempt to lift it up. They swore, shouted, and perspired, their skin cracked from the summer heat and the sparks flying around them. Grandpa Kratse hopped around, pointing out where they should pull, but they paid no attention to him, tugging where they wanted. The horse neighed deafeningly, and when it tried to jump, one of the planks broke, and the crazed, nervous animal slipped back down.
The men worked with these planks for an hour, and then Marko suddenly appeared from somewhere. He looked at the commotion, clicked his tongue, and said:
"These planks are very weak; something sturdier is needed. Dedo Kratse, give me a big axe."
"Don't bother me, boy," the old man replied. "If you need an axe, go and get one from the shed. I'm needed here to tell where to press."
Marko listened to him and went slowly to the shed. He returned with a large axe, which he tossed a few times from hand to hand. Then, suddenly, as he began to chop the big pine tree in the middle of Kratse's courtyard, such a loud crack was heard that even the horse stopped neighing for a moment. And as the master of the house arrived at this latest outrage, the massive tree, with three powerful blows, leaned to one side and fell. Marko caught it by the top, dragging it towards the hole, accompanied by the host's wishes for the earth to open and swallow him, his hands to wither, and the devil to take him. Now in front of the hole, Marko shoved the lower part of the tree inside, positioning it under the belly of the furious horse and pushing from the other side. He was surprised himself that he didn't succeed in lifting it the first time, but he strained his muscles, pressed with all his might, and eventually the horse, in all its splendour, was once again on the ground. Its golden mane shone, and smoke from its nostrils enveloped it like fog. A gypsy quickly threw a bridle from the side and fastened it tightly before the animal could sense danger and kick outalar. But the gypsy was not foolish, and by that time, he was already running to the side.
Marko became alarmed and pulled the reins tightly, preventing the horse from jumping back into the hole. The horse wasn't used to being held by such a strong man, and also needed to catch its breath, so it stopped for a moment. Marko patted its head and then led it towards the street where there was no hole for it to fall into again and he would have to pull it out once more. Bay Kosta approached him, rummaged in his pocket, and handed Marko a small coin.
"Good job, here's a coin for your effort."
"Thank you for your generosity" Marko smiled and put the silver coin in his pocket. - "Where should I take the little animal now, bay* Kosta?"
"Let's go to the flat meadow above the village, to see how this wild little horse is ridden. "
Bay Kosta's eyes shone with longing. His hands trembled with excitement to grab its golden mane, he was shaking all over, eager to tame it and ride it through the fields while the wind whistled in his ear like it used to.
Marko pulled the disobedient horse towards the flat meadow, the largest one near the village, which offered a view of three mountains and a river. Behind him, all the participants in this event and new onlookers rushed to see what would finally happen. Would this wild horse be ridden or not? The gypsies, who had been trailing behind, pulled out drums and flutes from somewhere and began playing. With them, they produced various rhythmic melodies that would intensify, then subside, then accelerate and regain strength.
Magda quietly sneaked past the whole procession, looking around to make sure that the big hand of Bay Milan wouldn't grab her from somewhere, but he was walking ahead, waving something heatedly. So, in the end, Magda got tired of being careful and began to jump in time with the music like a true gypsy child. The rural flat meadows were still green and lush, although the golden summer was passing. Until recently, the meadows had been quiet and almost asleep, but now they were filled with human activity and the sound of horses neighing. When the entire procession reached a large walnut tree, Bay Kosta said: "This is a good spot. Come on, Marko, give me the reins so I can finally fulfill my desire to ride this beautiful horse. "
Marco smiled, stroked the colt on the head soothingly once again, and handed the reins over to its excited new owner. Uncle Kosta held it for a moment, ran his hand along its shiny back, and expertly mounted it. He was known as a great rider, and it showed in his jump. He held the reins tightly and gripped even harder with his legs next to the muscular back. Just as the gypsies were about to start playing loudly to celebrate Kosta's successful mount, the horse suddenly went wild.
It started to toss, arch its back, and kick with its hooves. Suddenly, the horse reared up on its hind legs, uncontrollable and angry. Uncle Kosta could not hold on to its back for a second longer, fell to the ground, and tumbled over. The horse took off to run free, but the gypsies surrounded it and began waving their hands, screaming and brandishing their whips. Uncle Milan was already kneeling next to his friend, splashing him with water. Kostadin struggled to get up, shook the dust off his clothes, and although he was bruised, he was determined to ride the horse, so he ran towards the disobedient animal again. He surprised it from behind. He jumped on top again, and the crazy dance started once more. This time a full minute passed before the horse threw him to the ground.
Uncle Kosta was better prepared for the fall this time and landed almost on his feet, but when he tried to mount the horse for the third time, he was already limping with his other leg.
This time Kosta didn't even manage to jump on top of it. The horse threw him aside, while he was still trying to swing his leg over it. Meanwhile, Marko stood aside, watching the scene silently.
Uncle Kosta lay on the ground for a while after his fall. When he managed to get up, his gaze was

*Referring to an older man

 

furious. He understood that he was not capable of riding the star horse, but he couldn't bear the thought of admitting defeat and being laughed at by the whole village. And people had already gathered under the walnut tree, eager for some entertainment that would keep them talking for months to come. Who knows, someone might even make up a song about the incident later. All they knew was to work, have children and sing. Uncle Kosta clenched his fists and shouted, so everyone could hear him:
"Hey, people, listen to me well. This horse is wild and cannot be ridden. If someone here is willing to climb on it and ride it as they should, I will pay the price and give it to them. If this doesn't happen, I will keep the money, there will be no deal for the horse. I don't have money for a crazy animal. Come on, I said what I said, let's see some heroes. Your chance has come."
The gathered group fell silent. No one under the walnut tree was brave enough to risk breaking an arm or a leg so close to the wheat harvest. Bay Kosta smirked and began to pack up his pouch, but at that moment, Marco slowly approached him. He passed by him without saying a word and deftly climbed onto the shiny back of the horse. The animal immediately went berserk and began to thrash about in a desperate attempt to throw the madman off its back. Marco, however, clung to its back like a leech and refused to let go. This crazy tossing back and forth could hardly be called riding, and it was clear that no matter how strong he was, this young man would soon be rolling in the dust. But he still didn't give up. He gathered all his strength in his hands and leaned forward on the reins towards the horse's head so that his face was level with the left horse ear, and he said quietly but clearly:
"Come on, fire horse, take me to the one who fed me - Vida Bezdarzhijkata. "
Instantly, the horse's neighing stopped. The jumps and kicks stopped too.
The gypsies felt as though that moment would never end, but then the foal smoothly galloped past them, carrying Marco towards the forest, their zurna pipes let out a rapturous cry, celebrating this human victory over the supernatural and over money, which couldn't buy the youthful spirit and the power over our desires that we can't control.
In the dust that slowly settled behind the disappearing horse in the distance, a heavy purse filled with gold coins fell to the ground with a thud.