Once upon a time, there was a girl whose name was Ilya. Ilya was betrothed to a man she didn’t want to marry – in fact, she hated him, and with good reason. Her betrothed was not a particularly bad man, compared to the others in the village, but he was not a particularly good man either. All of the men in the village worked in the fields all day and came home and drank their sorrows away at night, and took out their frustrations on their wives and children and sometimes on each other. That’s just the way it is, said Ilya’s mother and sister when Ilya complained to them. Such is our lot in life.
Ilya, however, was certain that there must be something better out there, beyond the gates of the village. So, the night before her wedding, she packed a bag with her small belongings – a piece of tallow, a tinderbox, and a chipped teapot that had belonged to her grandmother – and set off to seek her fortune.
She snuck out of the village when it was dark and silent with only the moon to guide her way. Soon the fields that surrounded her village disappeared and the thick woods closed in, and even the moon vanished.
Ilya traveled through the woods a night and a day, until she had to admit that she was lost. The small bit of food she had brought with her was gone. She resolved to knock at the door of the next farmhouse she came across, and beg for some bread.
So, when Ilya saw farm lights and men on horseback, she did not hide. She stood at the side of the road as they rode towards her.
This was very bad luck for Ilya, for the band of men was actually a gang of thieves. They had just finished looting the farmhouses, but they had not found much, and were in a very bad mood. They scooped Ilya up and added her to the pile. She was blindfolded and tied up and hauled a long ways for a night and a day in an extremely uncomfortable position on horseback, and then, to make matters worse, she was thrown into a damp, dark cave with the few measly bags of loot the thieves had managed to procure the night before.
“Hope the rats and spiders aren’t too hungry,” the last thief laughed as he rolled a heavy stone in front of the cave. “It’s been a while since they’ve had a snack in here. Don’t worry luv, we’ll probably come back for you in the morning. The slave market’s not too bad this time of year.”
Ilya managed to push the blindfold aside but it made no difference – a cave was a cave and it was too dark to see. She was so exhausted, she crawled up on top of one of the dirty bags and fell asleep with her hands tied behind her back. If you’ve never tried this, you may have no idea how exhausted one has to be to fall asleep with one’s hands tied behind one’s back. It is not pleasant.
Ilya woke up some time later in the dark. She thought for a moment that she was sleeping at home in her own hut, in the corner on the floor where she made her bed, but then she remembered where she was.
She began to cry, as any reasonable human being in her situation might do.
“Oh!” she said. “I’ve gone from the pot into the fire; I may as well have stayed home and married that miserable man! If only there was someone here to help me!”
At that moment, there was a light. It was so soft at first that Ilya thought her eyes and the dark were playing tricks on her. But gradually she could make out a soft glow. It was coming from her own measly pack, which the thieves had thrown into the cave along with all their other loot.
“I can help,” said a quiet voice.
“Who’s there?” said Ilya.
“You’ll have to let me out,” said the voice. It sounded like a muffled girl’s voice. “But first, there is a knife in the chest in the corner over there. You should cut the ties that bind you.”
