Prevod

Once upon a time there was a king who had twelve daughters, and he loved them so dearly that he wanted them with him almost all the time; but every day at noon, while the king slept, the princesses went out for a walk. Once, while the king was taking his midday nap and the princesses were out, they vanished without a trace and never came back. Then there was great grief and sorrow throughout the land, but the king was the most sorrowful of all. He sent messengers through his own kingdom and foreign lands, and had inquiries made at every church and all the bells in the country rung for them; but the princesses were gone and stayed gone, and no one knew what had become of them, so it seemed plain that some enchantment must have spirited them away. Before long the news spread far and wide, through town and countryside and across many lands, until at last the rumour reached a king in a faraway country who had twelve sons. When they heard of the twelve princesses, they begged their father’s leave to go out and search for them. He was loath to let them go, for he feared he might never see them again; but they knelt before him and pleaded so long that in the end he had to give his consent. He fitted out a ship for them and appointed Knight Red, who knew the seas well, to steer it. For a long time they sailed about, going ashore in every country they came to, searching and asking after the princesses; but they could find no word or trace of them. They had sailed for seven years all but a few days when a fierce storm arose, with such dreadful weather that they thought they would never reach land again, and they all had to work so hard that they got not a wink of sleep for as long as the storm lasted. But towards the end of the third day the wind dropped, and all at once there was a dead calm. They were all so worn out by their labour and the rough weather that they fell asleep at once; but the youngest prince could find no rest and could not sleep at all. As he was pacing up and down the deck, the ship came to a little island, where a little dog ran about, barking and yelping at the ship as though it wanted to come aboard. The prince walked along the deck, coaxing and whistling to the dog, but it only barked and yelped all the more.

He thought it a pity to leave it there to perish, for he supposed it might have come from a ship wrecked in the storm; yet he could see no way to help it, for he did not think he could launch the boat alone, and the others were sleeping so soundly that he did not want to wake them for the dog’s sake. But the sea was so smooth and still that he thought, “You must go ashore and save the dog after all”;

and so he set about launching the boat, which proved easier than he had expected. He rowed ashore and went up to the dog, but every time he reached for it, it sprang aside, and so it went on until, before he knew it, he found himself inside a great, splendid castle. There the dog suddenly turned into a beautiful princess, and on a bench sat a man so huge and hideous that the prince was quite terrified. “You need not be afraid,” said the man—and the prince grew more frightened still when he heard his voice—“for I know well enough what you want. There are twelve princes in your company, and you are searching for the twelve princesses who disappeared. I know where they are: they are with my master, each sitting on her own chair, picking the lice from his hair, for he has twelve heads. You have been sailing for seven years now, but you will have to sail seven years more before you find them. As for you, you would be welcome to stay here,” he said, “and marry my daughter; but first you must kill him;

for he is a harsh master to us, and we are all weary of him, and when he is dead I shall be king in his place. But now try whether you can wield the sword,” said the troll. The prince took hold of an old rusty sword hanging on the wall, but he could scarcely stir it. “Then you must take a draught from this bottle,” said the troll. When he had done so, he could move it, and after another draught he could lift it, and after a third he could swing the sword as easily as if it had been his own.

“When you get aboard,” said the troll prince, “you must hide the sword well in your berth, so that Knight Red does not see it. He cannot wield it himself, to be sure, but he will hate you for it all the same and seek your life. When another seven years have passed, all but three days,” he went on, “the very same thing will happen as has happened now: a fierce storm will come upon you, and when it is over you will all grow sleepy;

then you must take the sword and row ashore. You will come to a castle guarded by all manner of beasts—wolves and bears and lions—but you need not be afraid of them;

for they will all fall at your feet. When you enter the castle, you will find him sitting in a splendid chamber, grandly dressed and decked out in all his finery; but he has twelve heads, and the princesses sit on their chairs, each picking the lice from one head. You may be sure they do not care for such work. Then you must hurry and cut off one head after another, for if he wakes and sees you, he will swallow you alive.” The prince went aboard with the sword, taking care to remember everything he had been told. The others were still asleep, and he hid the sword in his berth so that neither Knight Red nor any of the rest saw it. Now the wind began to blow again, and he woke the others, saying he thought they ought not to sleep any longer when there was such a fair wind. No one noticed that he had been away. When the seven years had passed, all but three days, everything happened just as the troll had said. A fierce storm arose and raged for three days, and when it was over they were all sleepy from their labours and lay down; but the youngest prince rowed ashore, and the beasts on guard fell at his feet, and so he came to the castle.

When he entered the chamber, the king sat there asleep, just as the troll prince had said, and the twelve princesses sat on their chairs, each picking the lice from one head. The prince beckoned to the princesses to move out of the way; they pointed to the troll and motioned back that he should go away and hurry to safety, but he kept signalling to them to move aside. At last they understood that he meant to rescue them, and quietly moved away, one after another, and just as quickly he struck the heads off the troll king, until the blood flowed like a great stream. When the troll was dead, he rowed back to the ship and hid the sword. He thought he had done enough now, and since he could not manage to carry away the body, he wanted the others to lend a hand.

So he woke them and said it was a disgrace that they should lie there sleeping while he had found the princesses and rescued them from the troll. The others only laughed at him and said he had surely slept as soundly as they had, if not more soundly, and dreamed that he was such a fine fellow. If anyone had rescued the princesses, it was far more likely to have been one of them. But the youngest prince described everything that had happened, and when they went ashore with him and saw first the stream of blood, then the castle and the troll and the twelve heads and the princesses, they realised that he had told the truth, and helped him throw the heads and the whole body into the sea. Now they were all happy and content, but no one was happier than the princesses, who no longer had to sit picking lice from the troll all day. Of all the gold and silver and precious things there, they took as much as the ship could carry, and then they all went aboard, princes and princesses alike. But when they had sailed some way out to sea, the princesses said that in their joy they had forgotten their golden crowns. They were in a cupboard, and they would dearly like to have them. When none of the others would fetch them, the youngest prince said, “I have risked so much already that I may as well go back for the golden crowns too, if you will lower the sails and wait until I return.” Yes, they promised they would. But when he was so far away that they could no longer see him, Knight Red, who wanted all the honour for himself and wished to marry the youngest princess, said there was no use lying there waiting for him, for they could be sure he would never return. They knew, he said, that the king had given him, Knight Red,

power and authority, so he would sail whenever he chose, and they must say that he had rescued the princesses; if anyone said otherwise, he would pay with his life. The princes therefore dared do nothing but obey Knight Red, and they sailed away. Meanwhile, the youngest prince rowed ashore, went up to the castle, found the cupboard with the golden crowns inside, and toiled until he had got it down into the boat. But when he reached the place from which he should have been able to see the ship, it was gone. When he could see no sign of it in any direction, he understood well enough what had happened. There was no use rowing after it now, so he had to turn back and row ashore again. He was afraid to spend the night alone in the castle, but there was no other shelter to be had, so he plucked up his courage, locked all the doors and gates, and lay down in a room where there was a bed ready made. Still, he was anxious and afraid; and he grew more frightened yet when, after he had lain there a while, the roof and walls began to creak and crack as though the whole castle were about to split apart. All at once something landed beside the bed with a thud like a whole load of hay. Then all was quiet again, but he heard a voice telling him not to be afraid and saying:

“I am Bird Dam, and I shall help you on your way. But first thing when you wake tomorrow, you must go to the storehouse and fetch me four barrels of rye. I must have that much for breakfast, or I can do nothing.” When he woke, he saw an enormous bird with a feather at the back of its neck as thick as a half-grown timber spruce. The prince went to the storehouse and fetched four barrels of rye for Bird Dam, and when the bird had eaten them, it told him to hang the cupboard with the golden crowns on one side of its neck, and to take enough gold and silver to balance it and hang that on the other side. Then it told him to climb onto its back and hold tight to its neck feather. Away they went, rushing through the air, and before long they flew past the ship. The prince wanted to go aboard for the sword, for he was afraid someone might see it, and the troll had said that must not happen; but Bird Dam said it was out of the question. “Knight Red will not see it,” said the bird, “but if you go aboard he will seek your life, for he wants to marry the youngest princess;

but you need have no fears for her, for every night she lays a naked sword before her in the bed.” At last they reached the troll prince, and the welcome the prince received there knew no bounds. The troll prince could not do enough for him, because he had killed his master and made him king.

The prince could have had his daughter and half his kingdom for the asking. But by now he had grown so fond of the youngest of the twelve princesses that he could never rest, and time and again he insisted on setting out. The troll, however, begged him to be patient a little longer, saying that they still had nearly seven years to sail before they reached home. Of the princess, the troll said the same as Bird Dam: “You need have no fears for her, for she lays a naked sword before her in the bed. And if you do not believe me,” said the troll, “you may go aboard when they sail past here and see for yourself, and fetch the sword; I must have that back in any case.” When they sailed past, there had been another storm, and when the prince went aboard they were all asleep. Each princess lay beside her prince, but the youngest lay alone with a naked sword before her in the bed, and Knight Red lay on the floor in front of it. The prince took the sword and rowed ashore again without any of them noticing that he had been aboard. Yet still he could find no peace, and often wanted to be off, until at last, as the seven years drew to a close and there were only about three weeks left, the troll king said, “Now you may prepare to leave, since you will not stay with us. I shall lend you an iron boat that goes of its own accord: you need only say, ‘Boat, go forward!’ In the boat there is an iron club, and when you see the ship straight ahead of you, you must lift it a little; then they will get such a wind that they will forget to look out for you. When you come alongside the ship, lift the iron club again, and such a storm will arise that they will have other things to do than watch you. When you have passed them, lift the club a third time; but you must always lay it down gently again, or such weather will break upon you that both you and they will be wrecked. Once you have reached land, you need not trouble yourself any further about the boat;

just push it out, turn it round, and say, ‘Boat, go home again!’” When he set off, he was given so much gold and silver, so many other precious things, and so many clothes and linen garments that the troll princess had sewn for him during his long stay, that he was far richer than any of his brothers. No sooner had he sat down in the boat and said, “Boat, go forward!” than the boat set off, and when he saw the ship straight ahead, he lifted the club;

then they got such a wind that they forgot to look out for him. When he was alongside the ship, he lifted the iron club again, and such a storm arose, with such dreadful weather, that white foam flew all around the ship and the waves broke over the deck, so they certainly had other things to do than watch him. When he had passed them, he lifted the club for the third time, and then they had so much to keep them busy that they had no time at all to see who he was. He reached land long, long before the ship, and when he had taken all his belongings out of the boat, he pushed it out again, turned it round, and said, “Boat, go home again!” And away went the boat.

He disguised himself as a sailor—whether the troll king had taught him that trick or it was his own idea, I shall leave unsaid—and went up to a wretched little cottage where an old woman lived. He persuaded her that he was a poor sailor who had been aboard a great ship that had foundered, and that he was the only one saved; then he asked whether she would give shelter to him and the things he had salvaged. “Heaven help me,” said the woman, “I cannot put anyone up. You can see what it is like here;

I have nothing to sleep on myself, much less anything for another person.” That did not matter, said the sailor; so long as he had a roof over his head, it made no difference what he slept on. Surely she could not refuse him shelter if he was willing to make do with things as they were.

That evening he moved his belongings in, and at once the old woman, who was eager for news to carry about, began asking who he was, where he came from, where he had been, where he was going, what he had with him, what business he was travelling on, and whether he had heard anything of the twelve princesses who had disappeared so many long years ago, along with a great many other things it would take too long to tell.

But he said he felt so ill, and his head ached so badly after the dreadful weather they had had, that he could make sense of nothing. She must leave him in peace for a few days until he had recovered from his hard labour in the storm, and then she should hear everything she wanted to know. The next day the old woman began questioning and prying again, but the sailor’s head still ached so much after the storm that he could give no account of anything. Every now and then, however, he let fall a word to suggest that he did know a little about the princesses. At once the old woman ran off with what she had learned to all the gossips in the neighbourhood, and now they came hurrying in one after another to ask about the princesses—whether he had seen them, whether they would be home soon, whether they were on their way, and so on. He still complained that his head ached after the storm, so that he could not answer all their questions, but he did say this much: if they had not been wrecked in the terrible storm there had been, they would arrive in about a fortnight, or perhaps sooner. But he could not say for certain whether they were still alive, for though he had indeed seen them, they might well have perished in the storm since then. One of the old women now ran to the palace with this news, saying that there was a sailor staying in such-and-such a woman’s cottage who had seen the princesses, and that they would probably arrive in a fortnight, or perhaps a week. When the king heard this, he sent word to the sailor to come and tell him himself. “I am not fit to be seen,” said the sailor, “for I have no clothes suitable for appearing before him.” But the king’s messenger said he must come all the same: the king wished to speak to him and speak to him he must, whatever he looked like, for no one had yet been able to bring him any news of the princesses. So at last he went to the palace and was brought before the king, who asked whether it was true that he had seen anything of the princesses. “Yes, I have,” said the sailor, “but I cannot tell whether they are still alive, for when I saw them there was such terrible weather that we were wrecked;

but if they are still alive, they will probably arrive in a fortnight, or perhaps sooner.” When the king heard this, he was almost beside himself with joy, and as the time the sailor had named drew near, the king went down to the shore in all his finery to meet them. There was great rejoicing throughout the land when the ship arrived with the princesses and the princes and Knight Red, but no one was happier than the old king, who had his daughters back again. The eleven eldest princesses were happy and merry too, but the youngest, who was to marry Knight Red, who claimed to have rescued them and killed the troll, wept and was always sorrowful. The king was displeased at this and asked why she was not cheerful and merry like the other princesses. Surely she had nothing to grieve over now that she had escaped the troll and was to have such a husband as Knight Red. She dared say nothing, for Knight Red had said he would kill anyone who told what had really happened.

But one day, while they were busy sewing their wedding finery, someone came in wearing a great sailor’s coat, with a pedlar’s cabinet on his back, and asked whether the princesses would like to buy some ornaments from him for the wedding. He had so many rare and precious things, in both gold and silver. Yes, perhaps they would. They looked at his wares, and they looked at him, for they thought they recognised both him and many of the things he carried. “Someone who has so many splendid things,” said the youngest princess, “surely has something more splendid still, which would suit us even better.” “That may well be,” said the pedlar. But the others hushed her and told her to remember what Knight Red had promised.

Some time later, as the princesses were sitting by the window one day, the prince returned in his great sailor’s coat, carrying the cupboard with the golden crowns on his back. When he entered the great hall of the palace, he opened the cupboard for the princesses, and when each recognised her own golden crown, the youngest said, “I think it only right that the man who rescued us should have the reward he has earned. And that is not Knight Red, but the man who has brought our golden crowns—he is the one who rescued us.” Then the prince threw off his sailor’s coat and stood there far more splendidly dressed than all the others, and the old king had Knight Red put to death. Now at last there was true rejoicing at the palace. Each prince took his bride, and such a wedding followed that news of it was heard and told throughout twelve kingdoms.