The Son of The Widow

Prologue

Late that night a stranger knocked at the mansion gate. A dark carriage was resting on the side of the road and the horses were sniffing the cool night air. The darkness was pierced by shadows that were frantically moving. A hiker was pounding on the wooden gate, wrapped in a cloak as dark as the night. The servants in the mansion were on their feet and in all the halls started to come out of their huts like rats. The boyar also appeared at the head of the stairs, half in the world of dreams, with his woolen cap pulled over his eyes and his socks pulled backwards.

He exclaims stammering:

Who dares to rush at this hour?

A servant appeared out of nowhere, bowed curtly and spoke quickly, almost overwhelmed by the emotions that had engulfed him:

A suitor is announced for your lordship's daughters!

Suitor? What suitor? Saturday suitor at this time! Go and tell him that the boyar has no girls to marry.

Yes, master, only he threatens to break down the gate if we don't receive him properly.

The boyar chuckled, stroking his grizzled beard, and replied sarcastically as he pirouetted back into his chamber:

He's welcome, than pay for it to buy a new one. Anyway is old since the world is born.

Your lordship, this guest cannot be refused.

The boyar stared with two large, blue and hazy eyes, becoming curious about what he was hearing. But suddenly he changed his mind.

My girls are not for sale, he said, spitting into his chest. Could be even the emperor, I still don't give it to them! Tell them take their stuff and go.

But he didn't have time to finish his speech, when in the threshold of the entrance door appeared a breath of a man, but who was not only a man. He looked like a Hercules making five of the boyar's servants and looking ready to tear him to pieces.

My lady wants shelter tonight, he said in a not very polite way.

Opening his eyes big as two plates and leaning on the banister to keep from falling down the stone stairs, the boyar ordered in a hoarse voice that the best room be prepared for his mistress, and that meals be heated for men and animals alike.

Meanwhile, in the loft above, the young ladies were sitting in their bones, awakened by the commotion from outside, and now whispering to each other. The girl with the black eyes of the witch tried to encourage her frightened sisters.

Father has many hunting friends, and they all like the wine he makes. Who knows, maybe someone has mentioned to pay him a visit in the middle of the night.

I thought you were smarter, Ayda, commented with an ironic voice. Would father's friends dare make such a fuss at this hour?

She was a sweet girl, her greenish eyes sparkling under the woolen quilt on her head.

Ayda laughed lightly as she nudged her and replied:

You can be calm, Evangheline. Your princess has definately not come to save you yet.

Draga is missing again, the one named Evangheline nonchalantly observes, pretending not to hear her sister's mean comment and straining to catch a glimpse of something through the hazy gloom.

Ayda got up from the hard beech bed, a huge bed where all four sisters used to sleep, and walked over to the closet where she pulled out a huge cape that she pulled over her nightgown.

Maybe it got lost again somewhere. I'm going to look for her. If Jasmine wakes up, don't tell her anything about the incident.

And she closed the door with a long creak behind her.

Returning to the dark room, where a crooked lamp was barely flickering about to go out, the boyar began to wring his hands and brain for a suitable solution to get out of the great mess.

Who can this mysterious lady be? Great lady it claims, to send her servants to take my girls! He doesn't even have the courage and dignity to reveal her identity. Does she believe that the boyar Vladimir is ever going to give away one of his Girls?

Still muttering to himself, the stable servant asked permission to enter The room.

Come on, barked the boyar. Did you take care of the stables properly?

Pale-faced and with scum running down his forehead, his clothes blackened and smelling strongly of dung, the man gave him yet another piece of good news that evening.

Master, our guests carry with them a prisoner held in chains. I have been ordered to feed him with animals and not to let anyone near him, as he is particularly dangerous. What are we supposed to do?