The Russian

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One night, on the ancient steppes of Russia, a man was riding his horse at full speed, yelling “Ya!” through the wind and snow of early spring. The horse was breathing so hard, that the man was praying the animal would not die. The hoof beats could almost not be heard, as the hooves barely touched the ground. The horse and rider were supernaturally one, as they glided towards the town.

He had to get there, he would have this woman, regardless of the cost, regardless of who approved. They were in love, insane with love, and that was reason enough. He would burst into her father’s castle, ride his horse inside until he found her, or until he died trying.

But there was no need for breaking in, she was waiting for him outside. “My father has disowned me”, she said. As he slowed his heart and his horse. They embraced. Then they mounted the horse, and she held herself closely to her love, wrapping her arms around his chest. They slowly marched towards the east. She allowed herself to breathe again, never feeling safer.

Where they first made love, is not for us to know. But they rode slowly all night, until they found a cabin next to a stream. They stayed there several days so the horse could rest.

They eventually stayed with a cousin, even further to the east. No one cared in this region, whether or not a woman was with child when she was married. They did find a priest though, to make it official. As the couple stood there at the altar, she gently stroked her stomach.

And this was the beginning, of one of the first kings of Russia, or so the legend goes……the woman had a son who would eventually own, her father’s castle.

     

Writing and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“When we love people, we give them hope.”

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