Episode 142 – The Haunted Castle – Myths Your Teacher Hated

Episode 142 Show Notes

Source: Latvian Mythology

This week on MYTH, it’s time for another exciting chapter from the chronicles of Lacplesis the Bearslayer. You’ll learn that oaks make good victory crowns, that haunted castles show up in the strangest places, and that some warriors prefer the pen and the sword. Then, in Gods and Monsters, two brothers will go off in search of fortune and find a White Deer instead. This is the Myths Your Teacher Hated podcast, where I tell the stories of cultures from around the world in all of their original, bloody, uncensored glory. Modern tellings of these stories have become dry and dusty, but I’ll be trying to breathe new life into them. This is Episode 142, “The Haunted Castle”. As always, this episode is not safe for work.
When we last left our hero (back in Episode 113), a council of the gods had been called at the castle of Perkons, god of thunder. The fire and blood of the Crusades of the 13th Century are headed straight for the doomed heart of the Baltics, sure to crush the steadfast and worthy people who lived there and worshiped the gods of the council. The water nymph Staburadze, who lives in a crystal palace beneath the mighty Daugava river, comes forward at the end to tell the story of a handsome young man that she had saved from some witches. She’d like to keep him, but Perkons tells her that he is fated to be a hero so she can only keep him long enough to get him healthy. We then flashed back to the young man’s origin story, where he rips a bear in half to save his father, only to learn that the old lord is actually his adopted father. He had been given care of the boy as an infant by the gods themselves (after having been abandoned by his unknown real parents and fed on she-bear breast milk as an infant).
Back in the present-ish, Bear-Slayer is heading for the magical hero school run by his dad’s old buddy Burtnieks but stops off at the home of Aizkrauklis and his wicked daughter Spindala. Lacplesis is stunned by her incredible beauty but a bit put off when he discovers that she’s a literal demon-worshiping witch. He manages to hitch a ride down into the Devil pit as she goes to meet the aforementioned Devil. The whole gang is busy corrupting famed holy-man Kangars into abandoning the gods and pushing the false religion of Christianity instead. Lacplesis is caught and dumped in the whirlpool, thus bringing us back to where the whole story actually began. Now healthy, Lacplesis sets out for hero school again, but not before meeting the beautiful Laimdota who studies under Staburadze and both give the young hero talismans. He encounters another heroic young man named Koknesis and they promptly become bestest friends as both enroll in Burtnieks’ hero school.
The now-villainous Kangars provokes the neighboring Estonians into going to war with the Latvians, prompting Lacplesis and Koknesis to ride out to do battle with their great champion, the giant Kalapuisis. Bearslayer fights the giant to a draw, and the two become sword buddies and fight together against the real foe, the invading Germans crusaders led by the priest Dietrich.
Having turned back the fire and steel of the reaving Estonian army, Lacplesis and the Latvian army returned to Burtniek’s castle as heroes. As he neared, the lovely Laimdota emerged to meet him with a host of other maidens singing a victory song. Each bore a crown of woven oak leaves for the returning soldiers. Naturally, Laimdota’s wreath was meant for Bearslayer’s brow and with it came a promise. “The mighty oak still grows in Latvian soil; likewise do our heroes spring forth to protect our homes. We greet these conquering heroes with song and wreath to praise their mighty deeds. In particular, we lift the name of Lacplesis who felled the Estonian giant and stopped their army, standing as tall and strong as the mighty oak itself. My father swore that if you defeated that dread foe in single combat, you and I would be wed and so to you, great hero, I vow to be a faithful and honorable wife.”
For his part, Lacplesis was overjoyed to hear his beloved Laimdota sing these lines. He replied with his own improvised verses of the victory song (because, as a classical warrior poet, he’s clearly able to compose elegant lyrics on the spot). “Heroes will always arise from the roots of the Latvian oaks to defend its people and its maidens fair. We will gladly lay down our lives to defend our homes. If we return in victory to earn our oak-leaf crowns, we earn the right to wed our beloved brides. And so, my dear Laimdota, I swear that I will live and die for you.”
Moved by the ringing harmonies of his daughter and his soon to be son-in-law, Burtnieks himself came out of the castle to sing his own heroic verse. He bid the young couple to enter into the castle along with the other heroic soldiers for a victory feast that had been laid out. His fellow warriors toast Lacplesis with flagons of mead and boast that the gods themselves must have intervened on his behalf. The plot to destroy him was turned upside down so that, instead, it simply added to his great legend that would live forever (as it clearly did since we’re retelling his story right now).
Some time passed (how much is not made clear) and Lacplesis continued his studies behind the walls of Burtniek’s castle. One night, he journeyed down into the stronghold’s ancient crypt, deep beneath the earth. He had learned in his time at the hero school there that the castle kept a massive library of ancient tomes of forgotten wisdom. While exploring these great shelves, Bearslayer sees something odd – a half-open trapdoor in the floor that led somewhere even deeper. Taking a lantern, the intrepid warrior clambered down the narrow, winding steps below the crypt’s floor.
The ancient stairs led down into a natural cavern that the castle had been built on, though it had clearly been worked and widened by human hands at some point. It led away from Burtniek’s castle until the rocky tunnel opened up into a soaring cave. That would have been a breathtaking sight all by itself, but it was made even more incredible by the sight of an ancient castle standing in the middle, hidden away from everything. Bearslayer was a skilled adventurer and ranger, so he had a strong sense of location and he knew that this castle must stand directly beneath the center of the great lake beyond the walls of Burtniek’s castle. Curiouser and curiouser.
Curiosity outweighing any sense of caution, the young hero entered into the seemingly abandoned keep and began to explore its many rooms by lantern light. He found many strange things there, rooms filled with ancient weapons scattered about, but he stopped at the one filled with books. The ancient wooden tablets stored here made the tomes of wisdom stored in the castle crypt seem practically new by comparison. There was no telling what lost wisdom might be stored here but he was curious to find out. See, Lacplesis was an avid student of many things, not just the sword.
Standing on an enormous slab of stone at the center of the chamber, he saw the flicker of another lantern. By its light, he saw the fair Laimdota studying a faded parchment. So deep in thought was she that she didn’t even clock her fiance’s entrance. Realizing that it was his beloved, Lacplesis stopped making an effort to be quiet, finally drawing Laimdota’s eyes as his echoing footsteps rang out on the stones. “Laimdota! Sorry to disturb your pondering. I thought I was alone down here until I saw your lantern, but finding you here is better than even finding a goddess poring over these tomes. I saw the open trapdoor in the catacombs of your father’s castle and followed the path to this strange sunken castle. Do you mind if I join you for a bit and see what ancient wisdom or forgotten spells might be in this incredible library? Is this the place you were alluding to the other day?”
She nodded solemnly. “It is, but you’re not supposed to be here. No one is without my father’s explicit permission. I can’t believe I forgot to close the door behind me – I’m never that careless! Still, you’re already here so I don’t see why you can’t hang out for a bit. We can read over these musty books together and see what we can learn.” Bearslayer laughed and took a seat next to her. “If I were to spend forever right here with you reading old books in this forgotten castle, I’d consider it a good life.” Laimdota hissed at her beloved warrior. “Don’t speak so carelessly! Who knows what whispered word could float up to some divine ear? The gods have a habit of fulfilling our wishes in unexpected (and not always pleasant) ways.” So basically, the gods are a divine version of the monkey’s paw finding ways to ironically fuck over mortals’ wishes. Actually, that tracks.
After a stern look to make sure her warning had sunk in, she smiled at Lacplesis. “I’m glad you’re here, though. I’m sure we’ll spend lots of time in our coming years just reading and sharing in mutual love and joy. We’ll have to be careful though, because this place is…special. You might have guessed that from the fact that it’s lost beneath the bottom of a lake. And when I say special, I really mean cursed. It’s dangerous for any mortal who values their life to stay overnight. Of course, if some great hero could actually spend the night here and still emerge back into the world of the living with the rising sun, the curse would be broken and the castle would rise to the surface once more.”
Lacplesis recognized his fiance’s words for the combination of plea and challenge that they definitely were. “If I, the heir of old Lielvarde, have the love of you, the youngest daughter of Burtnieks, to sustain me through the darkness, then I shall have the strength to carry out this task. With your hand in mine, we shall break this curse.” Laughing with joy, Laimdota took his proffered hand in hers. “Then together we shall laugh in the face of death and serve the people of my father’s lands.”
Bearslayer pulled Laimdota in close and held her tight. She leaned her head against his broad chest and inhaled his scent. The story then gets very flowery about two souls rising to the heavens like burning stars while foam-frothed waves churn on the lake’s surface above in the pearly moonlight. It definitely sounds like a wink and a nod way to say that they definitely took advantage of having a castle all to themselves (even if it was, you know, fucking cursed) to get naked and bone. You know why? Because sex is life affirming.
While the two young lovers were experiencing the divinity of sensual bliss, an evil presence lurked in the frothing lake and snuck down to the hidden cursed castle. Slithering across the stones was a water snake whose eyes the vile Spindala peered out through. It wound its way up to a window and watched the sweaty couple with cruel envy. No word on how long she watched them have their adult fun. Some time passed and Laimdota remembered that whole ‘death to stay in the castle’ thing and realized she needed to leave. She’d vowed to face death with her beloved Lacplesis but, like, in a symbolic way. She had offered him her love and support, which was about as much as she could realistically do in a sword and sandal adventure situation. The rest would be up to the mighty thews of Bearslayer.
With his lover’s warmth gone from this place, the abandoned castle quickly felt cold and dank. He broke off some of the less rotten planks and made a fire in the hearth to warm his bones as he waited. Midnight came and went with no sign of the evil that lurked in these ancient stones. And then, all of a sudden, shit popped off. A whirlwind sprang up in every room of the castle all at once, seemingly from nowhere. From the raging maelstrom appeared seven demons who rushed through the doors holding aloft a coffin with an ancient man laying inside – although calling this creature a man was something of a stretch. He had the basic form of a human, but his teeth were like the scythes of the reaper and his nails were as long and sharp as knives.
At first glance, this strange figure appeared to be a corpse, but then it stirred and moaned with a keening wail of the damned. Its eyes flickered open and peered around, catching Lacplesis’ own. “How cold I am!” he moaned, and a shudder passed along the warrior’s usually stout spine. That voice was so grim and awful that even a fighter as doughty as he could scarce bear it. Steeling his nerve, Bearslayer banked the fire and charged the demons and their carried coffin. Snatching the wailing creature by the throat, he dragged it out of its accursed casket and towards the fire. “Warm your cruel bones, you demon from the depths of hell, only cease your vile wailing!” His words sound mean, but I think he’s legitimately trying to help here.
The creature fought as Bearslayer tried to force it towards the flames. The ancient man snarled and tried to rip the younger man’s bear ears from his head with nails and teeth. As you might remember, Lacplesis’ secret ears (that he mostly keeps hidden beneath a hat) are the source of his power and biting them off his head would greatly weaken the hero. Understandably, Bearslayer went from helpful to enraged in an instant. Shaking the wizened creature off him, Lacplesis shoved it in the flames, his skin singeing and his hair burning as he did so. He ignored the pain and kept up the heat. “No escape from your pyre until this castle rises to greet the dawn!”
Bearslayer’s keen ears caught the quiet sound of a door opening behind him and, keeping the monster in the fire, he turned his head enough to see Spindala the witch creep into the room. Naturally, she didn’t come alone – major recurring villains need flunkies to do the fighting and dying. Getting other people to die for your cause is how you become a recurring villain, after all. With the vile witch came those same seven demons who had brought the living corpse in the casket. This time, they were armed with wickedly sharp pitchforks. The monsters fanned out around Spindala, weapons at the ready, and prepared to charge the now very much outnumbered hero.
Lacplesis’ mind raced. Even at the best of times, he’d be hard pressed to face seven fighters and a magic wielder all by himself. Here, where he had to keep the wizened ghoul of the cursed castle in the fire instead of drawing his sword, it was practically hopeless. Burtnieks’ hero school had taught him to think beyond his muscles to broader strategy and so he mentally went through his inventory for any possible help. He smiled and pulled forth the mirror that the goddess Staburadze had gifted him way back when. With his one free hand, he held it out to face Spindala and the demons.
As he knew it would, the face of the thunder god Perkons appeared in the smooth glass to glower at the wicked villains arrayed around Bearslayer. The sheer force of the god’s gaze was enough to force all evildoers to cower in terror from the judgment of the thunder god, and not even Spindala’s vile magic was enough to protect them. The demons’ terror shook them so badly that they shrank and collapsed into piles of dust that choked the air around their former mistress in a wild whirlwind. It’s unclear if the wizened monster also turned to dust or if he had just burned to ash by now. Either way, the evil is defeated (it’s unclear if Spindalal turns to dust along with her demonic servants or if she’s just fled the scene as a prudent recurring villain – time will tell). After a few seconds of horrific wailing, the whirlwind stilled and the demon dust drifted away. A cool, clean-smelling breeze drifted through the room to refresh the hero’s spirit. He breathed deep, eyes closing for a moment to enjoy it. When he opened them again, a light shone from nowhere, filling the cursed castle room.
From this pure white light stepped an old man wrapped in the long robes of a sage. He smiled gently at Bearslayer, his eyes impressed. “I am Viduveds, one of the ancient Latvian founders. Even now, centuries later, my spirit guards and guides our people. In slaying these vile demons, my son, you have cleansed this castle and saved it from the darkling world it had been relegated to. When the sun dawns tomorrow, it will shine on this castle once more. Well done, hero.
“The return of this castle will also bring a symbolic light to our people, a much-needed one in these dark times. Their ancestors collected all the wisdom of their times in the rooms of this castle, including laws handed down by the gods themselves. The reminder of these will help our people live in accordance with the gods’ will in the battles that are to come. Thank you for your mighty service, Lacplesis. Rest now safely in this ancient castle – you’ve earned it. My maidens will lead you there and help soothe your muscles and your mind to lull you to sleep.”
The light faded and Viduveds vanished with it. As promised, three lovely maidens came into the room from who the fuck knows where. They carried thick pillows and warm, soft sheets in their arms and swiftly made up a surprisingly comfortable bed for Lacplesis. He was exhausted from his long vigil and his life-and-death struggle, so he was only too glad to lay down and go to sleep. He drifted off to the sweet sound of the three maidens (who were probably spirits of some sort like Viduveds) singing an angelic lullabye.
In the morning, rosy light washed over the castle as it rose from the waters. Those who awoke with the dawn were astonished to find that the no-long-cursed castle now stood on an island in the middle of the lake. Laimdota had scarcely slept all night, so she was one of the first people to see the newly arisen castle and rushed to tell her father of Lacplesis’ latest mighty deed. As soon as that was done, she hurried over from Burtnieks’ castle to the risen one to wake her beloved fiance. Her face bathed in golden light like that of a goddess was the first thing he saw after the night’s terrors.
He sat up and stretched, embracing and kissing Laimdota with the passion of someone who has recently had a brush with death. Arm in arm, they walked out of the castle to greet Laimdota’s father, who had a huge smile on his face. “You have done us yet another great service, Lacplesis. You have more than earned the prize you sought – my blessing to wed the woman whose heart you have already claimed. The joining of these two clans will become the tip of the spear that fights back the armies arrayed against Latvia. You and your descendants will lead the struggle to save our people.”
After the obligatory celebratory feasts were complete, Laimdota and Lacplesis moved into what was now called the Sunken Castle (even though it was sunken no longer). They both loved pouring over the ancient texts stored there. It was on one such evening that Laimdota found a parchment that told the story of the very castle they sat in, so she read it aloud to her beloved (and now official) fiance.
Far to the east, past seven magnificent kingdoms, rose a great cloud shaped like a saddled colt. Upon it sat Perkons, lightning whip in his hand. With each crack of his weapon, lightning bolts smash the rocks below and make the humans tremble and the mountains quake. The world stood still to listen as Perkons spoke: ‘Those who keep my laws may walk with me on our journey westward to a new land!’ All heard this proclamation but all were too terrified of the great god to do anything but cower silently until the famously bold tribe of Burtnieks’ stepped forward. Its fighters were tall and strong and their backs were straight as they responded to the god. ‘Great Perkons, as pious subjects we will journey with you into whatever unknown you may lead us into.’ And so, with Perkons at their head and the tribe of Burtnieks behind, they walked far to the west.
Their journey was long and dangerous. Savage monsters harried their steps; foul fiends and ravening giants and roaring dragons that had to be faced and fought in turn. Each time the foe fell upon them, the warriors of Burtnieks stood strong with their shining spears as Perkons’ whip lashed about and drove the enemy away. They finally won their bloody way west to the Baltic Sea and settled in a lush, fruitful valley nearby. They raised up a stout castle and sewed the fields with barley and other vegetables, all of which Perkons made fertile to grow strong and hearty. From Patrimps and Saulite came the ripe grains and from Uzins the autumn honey of the glade. These, the sons of Burtnieks brewed into a heady mead to toast at their victories and weddings. The tribe grew larger and more prosperous under the auspices of the gods. It was a Golden Age and life was good.
Of course, nothing gold can stay. The Devil (and yes, I’m pretty sure this refers to the Christian Devil we met before when he was corrupting Kangars) was jealous of all this ease and abundance. He hated that other people were being too happy where he could see it and he decided to do something about it. Snarling, he conjured up a mighty tornado and sent it to suck up all of the water in a random lake. Bursting with stolen water, the soggy tornado was turned on the lush valley of the Burtnieks where the entire massive lake was dropped, drowning the fields.
This surely would have killed the people, wiping them out, but Liga, goddess of song, drew out her magical kokle (a Latvian plucked string instrument like a zither). With nothing but the raw power of her music, she commanded the rock beneath the valley to soften until it broke. A tunnel opened up beneath the lake that led the people out of the drowning castle to safety. They regrouped and rebuilt higher in the mountains where the current Burtnieks castle lies, but the one raised up by Bearslayer was the original from the Golden Age. And that’s where we’re going to leave Lacplesis and Laimdota for the moment. The happy couple has earned the bride’s blessing on their betrothal, broken a curse, and returned a castle from the time of the gods to the world. Not bad for a day’s work, which means it’s time for Gods and Monsters. This is a segment where I get into a little more detail about the personalities and history of one of the gods or monsters from this week’s pantheon that was not discussed in the main story. This week’s elusive quarry is the white deer.
This story comes, appropriately enough, from The White Deer translated by Faina Solasko. Once upon a time, there were two brothers who lived in a small village in the Latvian countryside. They grew up as close as brothers could be or, as the story puts it, a bond as strong as two oaks growing by the river. As they got older, their father brought them in to speak with him. “You are both growing into fine young men, so it’s time to choose what trade you each want to try your hand at.” The two brothers put their heads together and talked it over. “Carpenters. It seems like it would be rewarding to build stuff out of wood. But if I’m being real honest, we’d rather go out and hunt geese and ducks and shit that do any kind of trade.”
To his credit, their father listened to his sons’ preferences and didn’t try to talk them out of it. “If you want to be hunters, then follow your bliss.” He gave them each a bow, a quiver of arrows, and a loyal hunting dog then bid them good luck. The two set out at once and, after a little traveling, they came upon a flock of wild ducks. Perfect. As one, they strung their bows, nocked an arrow, and fired. And, as one, they neither hit a damned thing. It’s almost like shooting a bow is a difficult skill that requires practice to master, not just wanting it really bad.
You know what else is a skill that you have to practice? Navigating through the woods. After retrieving their missed arrows, the two brothers realized that they were utterly lost in the dense forest and had no fucking idea how to get back out. Oops. Even better, they hadn’t thought to provision themselves well for a long journey and so, while they had a little food, they didn’t have enough to last them for very long. The only things they were not in short supply of were pluck and gumption, so they resolved not to lose heart at their increasingly dire situation. As long as they had each other, they could figure this out.
Picking what they hoped was the right direction (though they had no idea if they were right), they walked on. Something moved in the underbrush and both brothers raised their bows as two spotted antelopes walked onto the trail. Seeing arrows pointed at them with what was clearly lethal intent, they spoke with unexpectedly human-sounding voices. “Please don’t shoot us! Spare us and we’ll help you when you most need us.” It’s much harder to shoot someone who’s begging you not to, so they agreed to spare the antelopes.
Walking on in their randomly chosen direction (I don’t know why they didn’t ask the speaking forest creatures for guidance but maybe they’re just that hopeless as hunters), they soon heard more rustling in the underbrush. Out stepped two great, shaggy wolves. Quite reasonably, the two brothers once more drew back arrows but, once again, the two beasts spoke with eerily human voices. “Please don’t shoot us! Spare us and we’ll help you when you most need us.” Wolves that aren’t about to eat your face are more like very large doggos (and it’s still hard to shoot something that’s begging you not to), so the brothers agreed to spare the wolves.
Continuing on once again without having asked for directions (as men are so often wont to do), they soon enough heard yet more rustling in the underbrush. Onto the path hopped a pair of hares (because we’re sticking to the rule of three and a weird pattern of animal pairs). A third time the brothers raised their bows and a third time, critters that had no business speaking in human voices begged for mercy. “Please don’t shoot us! Spare us and we’ll help you when you most need us,” Having already spared two other animal pairs begging for their lives, the brothers weren’t about to start murdering something asking you not to, so they agreed to spare the hares.
So now the two brothers had three new animal friends each amongst the forest animals (along with their hunting dogs, who have done absolutely nothing up until now) but still very little food. Wandering on with their strange procession, they soon came to a crossroads. Neither knew where they were or where they needed to go, but both had very definite ideas about which was the right way nevertheless. And, naturally, each was convinced it was a totally different path. Neither could convince the other and so, after much discussion, they decided to split up. Each brother would take the path they thought best and seek his own fortune along it.
Before parting, each drew their belt knife and plunged it into the trunk of an old oak that stood nearby pointing down the road they would each take. That way, each could come back later and see how his brother had fared in life. If the knife was bright and sharp, then the brother who had stuck it there was thriving. If it was dull and rusty, then that brother was in grave danger and needed his brother’s help at once. No, I don’t know how this works. Are these magic knives that two random ass brothers have for no apparent reason? Is this just something that knives did in this fairy tale world? Are the brothers magic themselves somehow? The story provides no answers, so go with whatever explanation you prefer. Bidding each other goodbye and goodluck, one took the right-hand road, and the other took the left. I’m assuming one of each pair of animals also went with each brother.
The elder of the two (who I presume took the right path, though the story isn’t actually all that clear about it) walked for two days without coming across anything interesting or noteworthy. On the third day however, he came across a towering castle made of hewn stone on the front and dressed pine logs on the other sides. A turret towered up from this castle, rising so high that the top was lost in the clouds.
The place was imposing but he saw not a single soul moving about outside. The only thing that kept him from thinking the place utterly abandoned was the sight of a young maiden sitting beside a window. “Lovely maiden, a question if I may – where has everyone gone? Why are you all alone here?” The woman startled at the sound of his voice and then peered out at him. “They all went off to hunt the great White Deer, but none of them will ever return. They were all turned into gray stones, my poor father amongst them.”
The young woman’s story touched the elder brother’s heart. “Worry not, fair maiden! The people of this castle went off in search of the White Deer without any helpers. I mean, besides everyone else at this castle who all went together as a hunting party but nevermind that! See, I have three clever animal companions and my loyal hunting hound along with me, so I will certainly be able to safely track the White Deer without being turned to stone. I swear that I will rescue your father.” While very noble of him, this is also potentially very foolish of him. He’s asked exactly zero questions about how a deer managed to to turn a castle full of people into rocks, so I have no idea how he expects to survive this encounter uncalcified.
Heading along the path, the elder brother reached the far gate and was startled by a flash of movement. The White Deer raced by, leaping effortlessly across the grass. The young man dashed off after the Deer with his antelope, gray wolf, hunting dog, and hare following in his wake. This is the mark of an inexperienced hunter because, you know, humans can’t outrun a deer in a footrace. We’re built for stamina, not speed. Unsurprisingly, he soon lost the White Deer in the forest though it wasn’t entirely his fault. The Deer simply vanished between one step and the next leaving only a faint haze to mark the spot where it had once been.
Looking around for any sign of the vanished Deer, the young man instead came across an old hag seated by a fire near the forest edge. It had been a long, fruitless chase after several long, exhausting days of walking and he was tired. “Would you mind if I join you beside the fire and warm my bones a bit, Grandmother?” Sure, there’s nothing suspicious or worrisome about this. Definitely trust the random old woman who just happens to be hanging out right beside where a magical Deer vanished. Surely only good things can come of this decision. “By all means, please join me young man! Have a seat and a bite to eat. Would it be alright if I patted your fine animal companions first? I promise I won’t hurt them.”
That’s kind of a strange thing to say. Not the wanting to pet the critters part, that is 100 percent something I would do – no, the ‘I definitely won’t hurt them even though you’ve in no way indicated you were worried about that.’ Being the trusting sort, the elder brother saw no reason to disagree. As you’ve likely guessed, as soon as she touched each of the animals in turn and then the young man, each turned to gray stone. I can’t help but wonder if the process took a moment to set it because otherwise why didn’t anyone scatter as soon as the first beastie changed? Anywho, they’re all rocks now so let’s skip over to the younger brother on the left path.
His road led him a winding way through the great forest until he finally emerged near a mighty kingdom. He needed food which meant he needed work, so he soon began tending the royal sheep. It’s not as glamorous as being a hunter but it’s a living. Almost as soon as he got comfortable in this new life however, a terrible calamity befell the kingdom in the form of an enormous dragon. It emerged from the sea like Godzilla only, instead of laying waste to everything in sight, it demanded the king’s three daughters be offered up to it as a sacrifice. It very much wanted to make a grisly meal out of princess flesh and, if it were denied, the dragon vowed to churn up the sea into a tidal wave that would drown every city in the kingdom.
The king was understandably horrified and heartbroken at this unexpected turn of events. Unlike in some stories, he genuinely had done nothing to deserve this ill fate but his army was definitely not capable of killing a dragon. He couldn’t risk trading the lives of all of his subjects for those of his daughters, but he also couldn’t stand the thought of just giving up and handing them over to be slaughtered so he did what fairy tale kings do: he offered the hand of his youngest daughter in marriage to anyone who could slay the dragon. I have to imagine that the daughter is probably on board with this plan since the alternative is a terrible death.
Word of this offer spread far and wide but no one wanted to try to solo a fucking dragon because of course they didn’t. It was suicide. The king begged and pleaded for someone to take up the task, but it was no use. The dragon’s window was up and, in the morning, the eldest daughter would need to be sacrificed. Word of this whole sad affair finally reached the younger brother, who was as empathetic as his now-stony elder brother was. He thought it was bullshit that the princess had to end her life in a dragon’s belly when she had done absolutely nothing wrong. He decided to do something about it. But like, not right away. He still had a job to do as a shepherd during the day, but once the flock was asleep he got to work.
The young man and his flock of animal companions set to work forging a mighty sword. How literally a single one of them knew how to do that is beyond me. Do antelopes learn that in forest school or something? I’m really starting to be convinced that these brothers are magic in a way that is never ever explained. Whatever. He and his beasts manage to forge a perfect sword overnight and were ready to go in the morning. He went to sleep and got up before dawn to head back out with the sheep. Which begs the question of what exactly the sword was for if he wasn’t planning on going to where the dragon was.
Around dawn, a palace groom drove a cart carrying the eldest princess towards the place where she was to die. The road they took just happened to pass by the field where the younger brother was tending his flock with his brand new sword. He saw the cart going and called out “hey, where are you going?” The groom looked up at this dirty peasant and rolled his eyes. “Have you been living in a hole in the ground? As dirty as you are, maybe you have. We’re heading to see the dragon that is threatening the kingdom. Where the fuck else would we be going?” “Oh really. Mind if I tag along?” “You? Why? You going to count the dragon’s teeth or something?” The young man shrugged. “I might give it a go. We’ll just have to see.” And so he followed after.
The groom and his little procession eventually pulled up on the beach, facing the churning sea. The eldest princess stepped down from the cart, as brave as she could be given the circumstances but all dignity forgotten. She wept bitterly and begged the groom to step up and save her. I can’t blame her in the slightest for her reaction. Hell, the fact that she’s moving forward under her own power speaks to her bravery. The groom led the horses and the cart away from the water (and the impending danger), saying that he was unarmed and no match for the dragon anyway. Neither paid the shepherd that had followed them here any mind.
The trembling princess stood alone on the beach and tried to steel her nerve as a three-headed dragon erupted from the sea in a shower of spray. I am not at all clear on whether this is the same dragon as before or a dragon flunky. Either way, as soon as it appeared, the young shepherd and his team of animals attacked. The four beasts harried the lizard, distracting the heads as the young man galloped forward on the horse that he had yoinked from the cart. Standing on its back, he leapt high into the air and brought his newly-forged greatsword whistling down and severing all three heads in a single blow. Even as the body still thrashed and writhed in its death throes, he cut out the tongues of the three heads and put them in his bag. Satisfied that this atrocity had been averted, he turned and headed back along the road to where his flock was grazing without a single word to anyone.
The groom was not nearly as honorable as the young man. He saw an opportunity here for him to get ahead in the world. “Here’s what’s going to happen, princess. Your life was saved and I’m the one that saved you, right? If you ever breathe so much as a word about that mysterious shepherd, I’ll kill you myself. When the king asks, you don’t even have to lie. Just say ‘the groom took me to the sea and brought me back alive again. He’s the one to be rewarded’. Understand, ‘your highness’?” The princess swallowed hard and nodded. She didn’t much care for this plan but she knew the groom could easily kill her if he wanted and no one would ever suspect him. They’d all blame her disappearance on the dragon.
They returned back to the castle and the princess did exactly as she was bid. I presume that there was a celebration and preparation for the groom to be wed to the youngest princess, but only for one day because a new six-headed beast erupted from the sea the very next day. Still not clear on if this is the same dragon just resurrected hydra style, or a second, different dragon flunky. Either way, it demanded the middle princess as though the saving of the elder daughter simply hadn’t happened.
The same groom as before was sent with the middle princess down to the seashore to deliver her to her doom. After all, he’d saved one princess from the dragon, couldn’t he save a second? As before, they passed by where the shepherd was tending to his flock (while still wearing his sword just because). He saw the groom, the cart, and the weeping woman and once more asked where they were going. The same scene played out, ending in the beasts attacking the dragon and the young man beheading all six heads with a single blow. Again, having saved the princess, he cut out the tongues and put them in his bag before leaving without a word.
The celebration when the groom brought the princess back alive this time was much more subdued as everyone waited to see if the dragon-slaying would stick this time. And, you guessed it, it did not. The very next morning, a nine-headed dragon burst out of the sea and demanded the life of the youngest princess. You know, the one that the groom was supposed to be marrying for saving the royal daughters so he needed to pull out one more rescue to get his reward.
A third time, the same scene played out with the groom leading the princess to her doom, the shepherd following along, killing the dragon in a single blow, cutting out all nine tongues for his increasingly full bag, and then leaving without a word. A third time the groom threatened the princess into silence with murder and she was forced to agree. They returned to the king claiming success yet again and the groom was lauded as a hero despite not having done a damned thing to save anyone. It’s very much that Tuxedo Mask meme where he claims his work here is done without having done anything. The one major difference this time was that, after being threatened by that bastard of a groom, the youngest princess slipped off her signet ring and gave it to the shepherd when her captor and soon-to-be-husband wasn’t looking.
The king had no reason to doubt the groom’s claim of having saved all his daughters’ lives, so he was overjoyed at paying the price. He gratefully kept the terms of the original bargain and offered the groom half the kingdom besides. He’d earned it after the heroic work he’d claimed to do, after all. The wedding was set to begin in three days to give the kingdom time to prepare a proper celebratory feast.
This news also reached the shepherd, who considered it as he gazed at the ring the princess had slipped to him in secret. He hadn’t killed the dragons for a reward, he’d done it because it was the right thing to do. Now though, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was doing something wrong by leaving the groom to take the credit. He was clearly not a good person, and the youngest princess just as clearly didn’t want to marry him. Shouldering his shepherd’s bag full of dragon tongues, he headed for the palace. No word on what he did with the flock while he was gone.
The day of the wedding came and the youngest princess looked around at the assembled crowd. She saw the shepherd who had, you know, actually saved her in the crowd and she decided to try and get out of marrying the cruel groom. She turned to her father. “Dad, I’ll marry the man who has my ring and rescued me from the dragon.” The king was confused since, as far as he knew, that was the groom she was already here to marry so he just shrugged and agreed. The groom (who is also now a wedding groom), handed the princess a goblet of wine. She took a sip and passed it to the shepherd with a questioning look. He took it and, when the groom wasn’t looking, he dropped her ring into the wine.
Hoisting the goblet aloft, she showed it to her father. “There is the man who saved me!” The king was now super fucking confused as to what was going on. All three of his daughters had said the groom was their rescuer, and now the youngest was saying it was someone else? “I don’t know what game you’re playing, daughter, but you need to stop. The wedding goes ahead as promised.” “So the ring isn’t enough? Fine. I’ll marry the one who has the dragons’ tongues as trophies.” Sighing, the king turned to the groom. “I don’t understand what’s going on here, but you killed all three dragons so show us their tongues and be done with it.”
The groom, realizing that he had been trapped in his lie, could do nothing. It wasn’t like he could even get enough fake tongues on such short notice to try and keep it up. He just kind of shrugged. With a smile, the young man stepped up beside the princess, opened his bag, and pulled out all 18 tongues (which had to be extremely gross by now). Well that settled it. The king still didn’t really understand what had happened, but it was clear that this young shepherd was somehow the real hero. He paused things long enough to get the full story from his daughter.
Once he realized how completely he’d been tricked and, worse, that the slimy groom had threatened to murder all three of his daughters, he ordered the cruel man banished from the kingdom forever. The shepherd meanwhile was dressed in cloth of gold and brought up to be married to the youngest daughter and receive half the kingdom for his genuine heroics. Thus were the two married and began a very happy life together.
Don’t worry, we haven’t forgotten about the elder brother who is still very much a statue. Having heroed his way into a better life than he could have ever imagined, the younger brother decided it was time to go check on his brother’s knife. He made his way back to the oak tree and saw that the knife was rusted all the way to the hilt, which could only mean he was in terrible danger. The younger brother hated to be parted with his wife (who he had by now fallen completely in love with), but he couldn’t abandon his brother. Calling his faithful antelope, wolf, hare, and dog, he set out in search of the elder brother. I would have thought that the forest critters had paid off their debt by now, having helped kill three dragons, but maybe they’re just genuine friends of the family now.
The younger brother set out down the right-hand road, walking for three days until he came to the castle with the turret that stretched up into the clouds. As before, there was not a single living soul to be found except for the beautiful young woman seated at a window. “Lovely maiden, a question if I may – where has everyone gone? Why are you all alone here?” The woman startled at the sound of his voice and then peered out at him. “They all went off to hunt the great White Deer, but none of them will ever return. They were all turned into gray stones, even that poor hunter who came by some time ago. He also went off in search of the Deer and was lost.” “My brother! Thank you for the information, beautiful maiden. I must save him!” And off he rode.
The younger brother reached the gate and, as his elder had before, saw the White Deer flash by through the brush. He dashed off after it with his faithful companions at his heels, but again he was not fast enough to run it down on foot. The White Deer once again vanished between one moment and the next, leaving only a faint haze to mark the spot where it had been. He explored nearby for sign of the missing animal and, like before, came upon an old hag sitting beside a fire at the edge of the forest. Being something of a hero by now, he was also a lot more observant than his brother had been.
“Hey there, Grandmother. I can’t help but notice that there’s a lot of strange gray stones lying around. What’s up with that?” “Sit down by the fire dearie and I’ll tell you. Would it be alright if I patted your fine animal companions first? I promise I won’t hurt them.” “Yeah, that’s gonna be a no from me, dog. You’re a sly fox, but I’m on to your game. Don’t come any closer unless you want to find out just how sharp my sword is.” And he drew his blade to let her see the fine, keen edge. “Now out with it. Tell me about the rocks.”
The old witch (because of course she’s a witch) sighed with resignation. “Alright, fine, you figured it out. These stones were once people and those were once animals. And before you ask, yes your brother is among their number.” “Glad you’ve decided to be helpful. Let’s keep that going. Tell me how to break the spell and, in case you were thinking about lying to me, remember how sharp my sword is.” “Take some ashes from my fire and sprinkle them over the rocks and stones. It will return them to their original form.” Keeping his blade leveled at the witch’s neck, he did just that. Sure enough, all of the transformed creatures were instantly returned to their true selves, an entire kingdom’s worth of people including their king. The younger brother put his sword away, but the animals she had tricked and trapped had made no bargain with her. They rushed the witch and ripped her to bloody shreds. No one made any move to stop them.
In gratitude for saving his life and those of his entire kingdom, the king gave his daughter in marriage to the elder brother (who was also very Tuxedo Mask meme but willing to accept the reward since his younger brother was already married to a princess). The younger brother returned to his beautiful bride and they all attended the wedding. All four young people lived happily ever after.
But what about that White Deer? I had originally assumed that it was the witch in disguise and that it was just transforming back into the witch when it vanished. To be honest, I kind of thought that princess in the castle was also going to be the witch in another disguise, but no in both cases. The White Deer was a very normal deer that had been enchanted by the witch to be bait for her wicked though completely incomprehensible evil scheme. At the very instant that the evil witch died, the White Deer tripped over a stump. As it stumbled, it lost its capital letters and the spell was broken. From that day on, it was just a simple, ordinary deer, free to run through the forests and never doing any harm to anyone ever again. I love it when a plan comes together.
That’s it for this episode of Myths Your Teacher Hated. Keep up with new episodes on our Facebook page, on iTunes, on TuneIn, on Vurbl, and on Spotify, or you can follow us on Twitter as @HardcoreMyth, on Instagram as Myths Your Teacher Hated Pod, and on Tumblr as MythsYourTeacherHated. You can also find news and episodes on our website at myths your teacher hated dot com. If you have any questions, any gods or monsters you’d want to learn about, or any ideas for future stories that you’d like to hear, feel free to drop me a line. I’m trying to pull as much material from as many different cultures as possible, but there are all sorts of stories I’ve never heard, so suggestions are appreciated. The theme music is by Tiny Cheese Puff.
DragonCon is just around the corner (hope you have those cosplays ready) and I’ll be bringing my Mythology in Popular Culture Panel back again this year. We’ll be talking about the classic Percy Jackson and the Olympians, both the show and the original book series. I’ll also be on a variety of other panels for everything from stage productions of shows based on folklore to drunken Shakespearian antics to a neurodivergent one shot. And if you’re not going to be at the convention this year? Have no fear, many of the panels (including Mythology in Popular Culture) will be live-streamed on Twitch and available as recordings for a few weeks after. Keep an eye on Facebook, the website, and the DragonCon app for details.
Next time, we’re returning to the magic of 1001 Nights to meet one of its most famous figures: Sinbad the Sailor. You’ll see that recognizing your crew is apparently not a skill all captain’s are taught, that you can do anything with a rich family supporting you, and that it’s always a good idea to make friends with the king. Then, in Gods and Monsters, birds may not be real but folklore birds are apparently really clever tricksters. That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.