406: Slavic folklore: Utter Nonsense
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This week on Myths and Legends, we're in Slavic folklore, telling the story of Ivan the Cow's son. We'll learn which magical fish dinners will get you, and your cook, and your cow pregnant, and how if you can't get in that house on chicken legs, you might want to try asking nicely. The creature this time is a headless McDonald's security guard from Scotland. This is Myths and Legends, episode 406, Utter Nonsense.

This is a podcast where we tell stories from mythology and folklore. Some are incredibly popular tales you might think you know, but with surprising origins. Others are stories that might be new to you, but are definitely worth a listen. Today's story is a Slavic fairy tale from the Middle Ages. And since it's a fairy tale, time period isn't incredibly important. It does check off nearly all the boxes of Slavic folklore with some fan favorites, but we'll get to those. First, let's talk about the Slavic fairy tale.

For now, we'll jump in with a young Tsar who has an old problem. I would say I don't know what the Tsar was hoping to gain from asking a room full of drunk guys how he could have a son with his wife, but I feel like it was pretty clear to us and everyone there, he wanted a son. Most kings do.

Still a pretty significant gamble, because back then, only about half of the children even born survived to adulthood. In fact, it's kind of a fun thing about ancient medieval history. Anyone could drop dead at any time for any reason. Rich or poor, royal or common, no one was safe. So when you have a shot to get a handful of gold, you take that shot. All the fellow czars and nobles the czar invited might be a little bit extremely drunk,

they knew better than to make promises inebriated that would get them exiled sober. The king was casting a wide net, and, in addition to nobles, he opened up his doors to the peasants as well. He needed ideas as to what would get his wife to, quote, bear fruit. No wrong answers. All right, what do you got? The peasant's son that stepped forward might have thought that to mean that he was open to anything and lenient. It was really more of a command, though.

No wrong answers. The peasant's son had three days to deliver, the king informed the man, as he piled gold into his cupped hands. Look, I am not advocating for theft here. I am not. I would not, however, judge the peasant's son if he used one of those coins to purchase a horse and ride as fast and as far as he could from the czar's kingdom and use that money to live for the rest of his life.

Those people had it rough. I mean, if you're the peasant, it's already a lie that you know what you're doing. But maybe because the peasant's son was an upright moral guy, also maybe because it was daunting to leave your hometown, because you could be robbed of all that gold as soon as you left your village, and then you have no gold and you have to answer to the czar. Well, the peasant decided to stay and figure this out. Like I said, he was a good guy.

Not good enough to not shout at elderly women who passed him on the street, seeing him in obvious consternation, a woman asked him what was wrong and he said, quote, be quiet, you old crone. Don't bother me. She ran up ahead of him and said, essentially, really, she could help. Not only that, but she was, quote, an old person and she knows everything.

Maybe she believed this. Maybe she was playing up an obvious stereotype to get this kid to relax his guard. Regardless, it worked. He said he had done something foolish. He said he could help the queen get pregnant. Oh, I know how to do that, the woman said. Do you now, the peasant's son cocked his head. The woman said he was looking real judgy for someone who said that exact same thing to the czar and didn't know. Okay, here's what he should do.

The Tsar was pacing outside his wife's room, anxiously awaiting the birth of his child. Just kidding, he was somewhere in the castle. Maybe. Nine months ago, when the peasant's son arrived with the gold-finned pike and told him the queen needed to eat it, he thought that that was crazy.

Full disclosure, it was probably only a little weirder than the accepted medical science at the time, but sure, she could eat a fish. She had the kitchen boil it, and they chucked the waste water out to the cows, because I know every time I finish boiling some water, I chuck it out the window toward live animals and people without looking. Let's use this as a footnote for my peasant discussion earlier.

One of her ladies took the fish, but she also took a small bite. It looked really good. And nine months later, the queen was giving birth. The king could barely be troubled with his own wife's labor, so he had no idea that both her lady, who sampled the fish, and the cow, who drank the wastewater, were also giving birth. The king was notified that his son had been born. And it did take him an hour to get there, but when he did, he squinted.

Was it supposed to look like that? And have a full head of hair? And have teeth? And be walking and talking a little?

The queen said she wasn't sure. The midwife said absolutely not. This is some weird Baba Yaga nonsense going on here. But for everyone else in the room, it got weirder when the king's lady hobbled in next to someone carrying a child that looked exactly like the prince that had just been born. The guy who tended the cows walked in and said, um, a cow gave birth to a human? Is the world ending because this feels like a pretty significant event?

The boy, too, looked like the others. So much so that when they were next to each other, and they washed all the cow junk off of that one, they couldn't tell them apart. And if they thought the day was strange, it was about to get a lot stranger because in 15 hours, those boys were teenagers. Yeah, instead of growing a year per year as most of us do, they grew a year per hour, leveling out when they were in their mid-teens.

The king sighed, looking at his three teenage sons. I'm going to be real, this is a weird day. After explaining to the queen about the magical fish dinner, and how he, I guess, also had a child with her lady-in-waiting, and cow, but not through the conventional means, which would be shades of upsetting and deeply disturbing given the parentage, the couple rejoiced with the triplets, who could now talk. And argue.

Sounds weird, but back then, teen siblings argued. These didn't argue much, but since they were all technically the sons of the king, they all had some claim on the throne. Now, the succession of power when the king dies is so important in the ancient medieval world. Entire systems like Primogenitor, Porphyriogenitor, and others were devised to keep the chaos and bloodshed of a succession crisis at bay. For the czar, though...

He was tired of it and told them to figure it out themselves. He was going to go take a nap. Now, Ivan Zarevich, Ivan the son of the queen, had the clear advantage. He's basically named Prince Ivan. The others, Ivan the maid's son and Ivan the cow's son, though, claimed that they were just as much an heir to their father as he was. So to figure it out, it would take a ball game. Whoever could throw the balls they bought at the market the highest would win.

Now, this was Ivan Zarovich's game to lose. And he lost it. He threw it high. Ivan the Maid's son threw it higher, though. And Ivan the Cow's son threw it so high, it didn't come back down. I don't know if it hit escape velocity for the Earth's gravity, or if it was just going to return to the market and hit some peasant just going about his day at terminal velocity.

But I've already exhausted my concepts from high school physics and said velocity way more times than I'm comfortable with, so we're going to move on. Well, now I'm the senior Ivan, Ivan the cow's son proclaimed. Above his brother's protests that a cow's son couldn't be czar, Ivan pointed to the sky. That ball still hadn't come down. Quote, obviously it is God's will that you obey me. Not sure if he's directly or indirectly referencing Joseph from the Bible, but...

While things did eventually work out for Joseph after saying that to his own brothers, the word eventually is doing a lot of work in that sentence. To Ivan the cow's son's credit, he did allow Ivan Zarevich a mulligan, of sorts. He pointed out to the sea where a sea serpent was clucking. A lot of things going on there that the story doesn't address. One has to assume that sea serpents were way more common back then, and also they clucked.

I guess there are all those sea serpents on old maps, though I thought that those were like a decorative flourish and not actual warnings. Ivan the cow's son pointed to the sea serpent's clucking, which the other brothers agreed was a normal thing that happened in their world, and it meant that the sea serpent was upset. If Ivan Zarevich could calm that sea serpent, he could be the senior brother. Deal?

If you don't know how to calm a sea serpent, well, you're in good company. Ivan Zarevich did what I've seen a lot of people at the dog park do, and yelled at the loud animal, and that did not make the animal feel better. If you think my dog comparison is too simplistic, I'm sorry you don't understand cryptids like me and Ivan the Cow's son, because after Ivan Zarevich gave up in shame, like the guy trying to break Tupperware and Napoleon Dynamite,

Ivan the cow's son picked up a big stick, which immediately got the attention of the sea serpent. After Ivan chucked it beyond the horizon, the sea serpent disappeared. He jumped up and down and cheered. Yay! He was the senior brother! Scowling, the other two said they didn't want to be lesser brothers. And Ivan just asked if there could be, I don't know, no seniority? Maybe a triumvirate?

It's never worked once in the history of the world, but you know, maybe they're different. Which is usually the thought of the most idealistic member of the triumvirate, right before the other two stab him. But they wouldn't hear it. They didn't want equality, they wanted to rule over the others. If they couldn't have that, they were leaving. So they left, Ivan the Cow's son explained to his dad when he returned to the palace. But Ivan Zarevich was my heir.

The king's breathing grew more and more harried. He just wanted the kids to leave him alone. They had begun that day childless, and he ended it with three fighting teenagers. Ivan Zarevich was always going to inherit the kingdom. Well, technically I threw a ball the farthest, so I'm your heir, the cow's son said. And the king stood. That's not a thing. That's not how you decide a royal successor. Waving in the guards, the king told some of them to go see if they could chase down the other two Ivans.

As for this one, send him to the dungeon. Couldn't find him? Ivan asked, sitting there in the darkness as the Tsar descended into the dank and reeking depths of the dungeon. From the Tsar's whimpering, he already knew the answer. We heard you threatening to punch down the walls. Can you actually do that? The Tsar wondered.

"'I was born because a cow drank the wastewater from someone preparing a fish dinner,' Ivan the cow's son said. "'Would him being able to go full Wreck-It Ralph on the walls of the dungeon really be that surprising?' The king sighed. He supposed not. "'I know where your other sons are, and I can find them and bring them home,' Ivan the cow's son declared. "'Why didn't you go with them?' the czar wondered."

Ivan the Cow's son laughed. He was the heir to the kingdom. He couldn't go running off on wild adventures, fighting dragons with six, nine, and twelve heads respectively.

"'You're not the heir,' the Tsar sneered, then thought about what Ivan said. "'I did throw a ball really high, so it kind of turns out that I am,' Ivan smiled. "'That's still not a thing,' the Tsar waved off that line of thought. "'But wait, did he say dragons? Were his sons in danger?' "'Your other sons, yes, but only if I don't get there in time.' Ivan the cow's son rose as the Tsar waved for his men to unlock the door, quickly.

Ivan said he would get on the road immediately. He just had to go get his room to get his battle club and magic sword. The czar blinked. He was able to ask how the kid got a magic sword and a battle club, but then he nodded. Don't think too much about it. His mom's a literal cow and his dad's boiled water. Just let it go.

Ivan ran to the other Ivans as they were standing before the Black Sea, reading a sign. A column, actually. It read that three serpents come out of the sea right here. That's about as unambiguous as you get. Also a little terrifying. These guys had been walking for weeks, not found anything, and now they arrived at a sea where dragons lived. And now...

He was back. Ivan the cow's son called out a, hey brothers, and they turned. Oh, it was the senior Ivan. The other two Ivans were in a low spot though, and their bovine-born brother seemed to have some connection to the supernatural, given his ability to procure a magical sword in two weeks as a 15-year-old, when I've been trying most of my adult life to no avail. Well, we should at least have dinner, Ivan pointed over his shoulder.

To the hut standing just outside the forest? On chicken legs? Oh yeah, we've tried, the two Ivans said. That hut really did not want them in there. No matter which direction they approached, it would turn to block its door and won't kneel down. They could smell the food inside, but it feels wrong to not respect the hut's boundaries. Also, they really can't get inside. They try it a lot. It's very kicky.

"'Hey, hut,' Ivan the Cow-Son called out. "'Hold still and turn your rear to face the forest.' The hut turned. "'Oh, asking.' The three Ivans climbed into the hut on chicken legs. There were steaming plates of food inside, as well as beds and down comforters, as the story says. "'I won't say that I've stayed in places as sketchy as an obviously cannibalistic witch's hut,'

But I've stayed in places that were obviously not great, and they didn't have down comforters. Okay, we should draw lots to see who's gonna stand watch, because frankly, we're gonna need it. Tonight, a dragon's gonna attack. Ivan the Cow's son said.

The other two Ivans looked at each other. Uh, what? Yeah, they saw the sign. They were in a walking house. How was a dragon unexpected in this situation? Okay, they needed to pay attention because there would be a dancing, talking jug that they needed to spit on. Ivan, the maid's son, drew the short straw and had to stay up. But I mean, after eating rations and sleeping on the ground, a hot meal and a down comforter were amazing.

He was going to keep watch. He definitely was. He was just going to keep watch from this really comfortable bed in the dark outside. When he started snoring, Ivan the cow's son got up and went outside to see the dancing jug. We'll see what happens to the dancing jug, but that will be right after this.

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Ivan the Cow's son recalled the earlier conversations with his brothers. Yes, Ivan Zarevich said. For him, he was struggling with, well, all of it. All the things, the whole concept. You can't watch it, Ivan the Cow's son said. Like...

"'Look at it?' the maid's son butted in. "'No, obviously look at it,' Ivan the cow's son said, "'but don't get caught up looking at it. "'Which is difficult, that jug is an amazing dancer. "'But yeah, you need to move pretty quickly to spit in it, "'and then shatter it, "'which is what Ivan the cow's son was doing at this moment. "'It was a shame.'

He could see from the jug's very tight movements that it had obviously rehearsed this. But Ivan knew it was coming, and he couldn't be distracted by this clearly talented jug. It tried to run, but clubs are gonna club, and the poor little guy didn't stand a chance.

Grateful that it was just a dancing jug and didn't have, like, jug organs and such, Ivan continued crunching the pottery under his boots until a duck quacked, the sea murmured, the banks of the Black Sea rang out, and a dragon exploded from the depths. So, I've asked you to suspend some disbelief when it comes to some small things regarding Ivan the Cow's son, mainly surrounding his birth and abilities and everything he does and says and knows.

I'm going to keep asking that of you, because as soon as the six-headed dragon emerged out of the Black Sea, the dragon whistled for, and mounted, its magical horse. Sometimes in Slavic folklore, dragons are dragons. Sometimes they are really mean guys. This one, named Chudo Yudo, is a dragon

is, in some places, the brother of longtime lonely dude and proto-Ice King from Adventure Time, Koschei the Deathless. Other times, he's a son of the famed witch Baba Yaga. And still other times, it's a form she takes. Like how Ganon is and isn't Ganondorf. Being nearly as confusing as Zelda...

And rhyming with one of my favorite Pokemon, Chudoyudo is both a multi-headed dragon who lurks in the depths of the Black Sea, and a guy who rides his magical horse he can summon from a whistle, like in the Assassin's Creed games. And, having referenced three video game franchises in the past minute, I realize I'm testing the patience of people who listen to this show strictly for the folklore, so we'll move on.

The dragon jumped on the horse, named Silvoburco, who had smoke from its feet, nostrils, and ears, and rode for Ivan. The dragon wasn't attacking, though he was referring to Ivan as raven meat, so you get the sense that an attack was not far off. Though, to mix messages a bit, he did ask Ivan if Ivan came to try to woo his sisters, in a way that implied that it wasn't completely off the table.

Ivan clarified that no, in fact he was here to fight the six-headed dragon, and proceeded to use the magic club to decapitate the dragon, head by head. And I'll encourage you not to think about how someone decapitates a dragon with a club, because while I can think of about two different ways, they're both pretty gross. Ivan the cow's son dumped the body under the bridge, sunk the heads, and tied up the horse by Ivan the maid's son. He went inside to actually enjoy that bed with the down comforter. ♪

Ivan the cow's son told me not to look at the dancing jug, but I looked at the dancing jug and God gave me a horse, Ivan the maid's son said, riding Silvo Berko back and forth in front of the hut, the one on chicken legs. Ivan Zarevich clapped and smiled, and Ivan the cow's son furrowed his brow. He wasn't sure what he expected from the maid's son who fell asleep, but that was a very specific lie.

Lie or no, Ivan Zarevich was sold. He actually stayed up for his watch the next night, when out popped another dancing jug.

We kind of glossed over it, because there isn't much description to go off, but I wish I had more info about these jugs that apparently live to dance and also be horribly smashed by the hero so he can fight a dragon. Ivan Zarevich first stood and clapped for the dancing jug of likely considerable sentience, but then he sat down as the dancing kept going.

As he laid down, probably wondering when his free horse was coming, he was just going to rest his eyes, just for a little minute, just close his eyes, and he snapped awake. Nine dragon heads were shoved under the bridge, and a horse was tied up next to him. Rising to sit, he noticed the jug was a few paces off, and looked like it had tried to run from the inevitable smashing in its final moments.

"'Look, I got a horse!' Ivan Zarevich proudly trotted back and forth while Ivan the maidson petted his own in the stable. That night, Ivan brought out a deck of cards. He needed something from his brothers. "'I'm sorry, I really don't think I understand,' Ivan Zarevich said as he looked at the towel jammed in the wall with a knife.'

"'What's not to understand? "'I hung the towel on the wall by stabbing it with a knife. "'I'm gonna go out on the bridge. "'You stay here and play cards "'until the towel drips with blood, magically, "'and then you come out and help me,' the cow's son said."

It's weird. It's too weird. Ivan Zarevich shook his head, and the maid's son agreed. Ivan the cow's son laughed, and the dancing jug and the fire-breathing horses weren't. They were committed now. They were in this. This dragon was going to have 12 heads. He was going to need their help. Tapping on the bridge with the walking stick, the jug emerged from the Black Sea and did the saddest little dance you've never seen, because this is an audio medium and I don't know enough about the dancing to describe it.

dancing and crying in the shards of his jug family. The little dancer's anguish was ended when Ivan the Cow's son smashed it after a few numbers. This one didn't even try to run. A duck quacked, a bell sounded, and the third Chudo Yudo brother emerged from the Black Sea. He, too, was riding his own steed, and he, too, attacked. Crunching dragon necks with a club to the point that you pinch off their heads is tiring work, one imagines.

At nine, Ivan was flagging, and he still hadn't managed to unhorse the monster. He needed help. He needed his brothers. But they weren't coming. That towel should be gushing blood at this point. Something was wrong. He took off his left boot and chucked it in the window of the shack on chicken legs. And it wasn't heard above the snores. The second boot didn't do it either, so he knew what he had to do.

He took off a chunk of his club and threw it against the stable housing the two horses from the previous two dragons, and collapsed it with one hit. Dropping buildings on your horses is generally frowned upon, but these ones were only a little annoyed. They came rushing from the wreckage and, with Ivan's whistle, he leapt atop their backs with a foot on either horse, unhorsed the last Chudo Yudo, and crunched off the final three heads. Then he collapsed in exhaustion.

Oh no, the guy who outranks us is dead, Ivan Zarevich said, seeing the cow's son form on the bridge, surrounded by blood and dragon bits. Ivan the maid's son said, uh, maybe, but shouldn't they, like, check him? Ivan Zarevich said he wasn't really trained in any medicine, so sure, they could get a hundred meters closer to him and see if he's warm and breathing, but what would that really prove? That

"'He's alive? We should probably actually go do those things. Oh, no need. He's getting up.' The maid's son pointed. Ivan Zarevich shook his head. That was just a hallucination from his grief, you poor little guy. "'Hey, you jerks, you were going to leave me after I saved your life and you couldn't even stay awake?' Ivan the cow's son yelled from the bridge.

That's just auditory hallucination, shared auditory hallucination. Ivan Zarevich was not even convincing himself. Hey, brother! Ivan Zarevich smiled and, after hearing all the Khao Sun's frankly legitimate anger at them for not only failing to help this time, but also leaving him for dead without even checking his pulse, Ivan told them that, with the Chudo Yudos gone, they could finally be safe.

He forgave them because they were, after all, brothers. Despite not being brothers in literally any definition of the word. After a meal, the trio took off in the direction of home. The two others seen that this had forged a trust in them that could never be broken. Oh, my whip! Ivan the cow's son patted his belt. The others said he had a whip?

The cow's son laughed. Yeah, it was like his whole thing. His whip. I thought your club was your thing, the maid's son pointed out. Or being born from a cow, Ivan Zarevich chimed in. Nope, whip always has been my thing. Look, it brings together all my disparate qualities. I gotta go back and get it. Just like, ride slow. I'll catch up.

Shrugging, the other two Ivans continued their rides as the cow's son turned and rode back to the hut on chicken legs. The cow's son had scouted out the spot days ago for when she returned. As soon as the brothers arrived at the Black Sea, this was inevitable. Ivan was only happy that he had been able to get there before the dragons and her, Baba Yaga. Ivan had been able to get everything back to normal in her hut before she arrived.

flying in on her mortar and steering with a pestle. If you didn't know, she was a character we talked about a lot on the early episodes of this podcast. But if you're not familiar, Baba Yaga is a witch from Slavic folklore who, yes, eats people with her iron teeth, but also flies around in a mortar and pestle. That felt weird to me in the beginning because, like me, you might be used to witches flying around on broomsticks.

Then I thought about that, and why did it make more sense than flying around in a giant mortar? So I'm on board with her flying that way, which I know was so important for a thousand-year-old folklore tradition for me to validate it. So you're welcome. Anyway, Ivan, like so many Ivans before him, knew the danger he was in, but he had to know what was coming. Baba Yaga, for her part, didn't suspect a thing until the weeping.

A young woman climbed up into the hut on chicken legs and, unlike most young women that Baba Yaga either semi-enslaves or tries to eat, she only offered this one something warm to drink, because this one was her daughter-in-law. The woman said that Baba Yaga's son and her own husband, the dragon, was dead.

Killed by Ivan the Cow's son, the Storm Bogatyr. Ivan nodded, that was an awesome name. Yeah, it was something akin to Storm Knight. Babiega, if she was enraged or crushed by the news of the death of her son, she betrayed neither. She simply nodded and folded her hands, listening to her daughter-in-law's plans.

showing how she earned her place in a family full of dragons and witches, the woman said that she would go ahead of the brothers. She would transform into a green meadow, a well, and a bed. In the well there would be a gold dipper, and they would want to feed their horses, rest in a bed, and drink the cool water. In the night, while they slept, she would tear them to pieces, no larger than poppy seeds.

It wasn't the daughter's overwrought and overproduced revenge plan that could have probably been accomplished by turning into just a well, a set of plank beds, or a nice meadow, and not all three, that sent a chill down Ivan's spine. But Baba Yaga's reaction? She didn't smile. She didn't celebrate. Long, wrinkled fingers remained crossed on the table, and her cold eyes met her daughter-in-law's. She simply said...

Yes, that is what they need. And the daughter left. There were two more, of course. Three chudo-yudos, three bereaved wives. The next would, like the first, go before the brothers and turn herself into a beautiful garden, fruit trees and all. And when the brothers ate of the tree, she would tear them apart from the inside out.

The third was a bit more reasonable. She would be a hut, and the hut would slowly become smaller, crushing the men that slept inside until their screams were replaced by the cracking of their bones. At this, Baba Yaga smiled her metallic, rusted smile, because iron is a terrible metal to have perpetually in the wet and humid mouth. And both women turned quickly when they thought they heard something over by the stove.

but it was only the wind and the curtains fluttering in the open window. We'll see what happens with all these revenge plans, but that will, once again, be right after this. Carissa jokes that I'm a utility eater, that if something is, you know, food, I don't super care about the taste or texture. I could really eat the same thing every day and be happy, but...

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"'Can't live without my whip,' Ivan the cow's son laughed as he rode up behind his brothers. "'Definitely my thing always has been.' Then, looking at his brothers, he said they looked thirsty. Ivan looked around at the arid steppe, with its few tufts of green speckled here and there, the sun beating down on the travelers in their cloaks, but the cold wind cutting them each time they tried to take them off.

That's what made the meadow up ahead extra appealing. It was lush and verdant and, in the center, a gold dipper bobbed in the fountain. "'Gold doesn't float, though,' Ivan shook his head as his brothers scrambled from their horses and rushed for the well. "'Oh, me first!' Ivan the cow's son rushed in and, axe above his head, went for a drink."

The brothers were confused by that, and yeah, they should be. People don't usually drink by hacking away at their wells with an axe. Ah, bummer. Ivan drew liquid from the well, but revealed that it was blood. It's a blood well. Ivan Zarevich retched at just the smell of an entire well full of blood. While the maid's son said that he was confused, was that a

Thing? Apparently, yes, Ivan the cow's son said. They could drink water from his water skins. He looked back at the grass that was already beginning to die. Ivan the cow's son rode on ahead, and the two other brothers found him standing among chopped trees and smashed fruit. Eating that fruit would lead to pestilence, Ivan the cow's son pointed. Ivan Zarovich said, yeah, it would now. What was he thinking? They were starving.

Ivan brushed off their concerns and said that a town wasn't far, come on. But the town would have to wait. A storm was on the horizon, and just before the crossroads, they saw a singular hut. Oh good, a lone abandoned hut just when we need it, the maid's son pointed. Ivan the cow's son inhaled sharply, yeah, that was gonna suffocate them.

"'What?' "'Yeah, it was an old hut. It would suffocate them in their sleep,' Ivan said. The brothers said that that wasn't something that happened. They rode for the hut, but Ivan rode faster. "'Whoops! I tripped with my axe out in a swinging motion!' Ivan the cow's son tripped with his axe out in a swinging motion, chopping the hut along the side, and blood just absolutely poured out.'

flooding the hut and going up to the horse's ankles as the hut withered. Yeah, this hut, ugh, it's rotten. It went bad, the cow's son shrugged, as the storm above seemed to clear, miraculously. Ivan Zarevich sighed deeply as Ivan the cow's son rode up to the crossroads. Brothers, let's go on the road to the left, Ivan the cow's son grinned, but his brothers were rooted before the crossroads.

Ivan Zarevich looked at the maid's son, who nodded. Yeah. Nah, we're not doing that, the two brothers said. What? Ivan the cow's son replied, spinning his horse to face them.

The brothers didn't know how to say this, but he was weird. He was too weird. Too many weird things happened when they were with him, and they hated that. Did he know what their journey was like before he met up with them? They fought some brigands. There was a lion. A lot of camping. Normal medieval adventure stuff. After him? Dancing jugs, dragon heads, bleeding wells and huts. It was too much.

"'But I rescued you,' the cow's son started to say. But the maid's son cut him off. "'Yeah, rescued them from his own weirdness. They were sorry, but now a crossroads was both a literal and figurative opportunity for them to part ways. So they did. Ivan the cow's son went left, while his brothers went the direction that the cow's son did not go. So, right.'"

Riding along, Ivan Zarevich breathed a sigh of relief. All right, good. This was good. It was just them on their own. No more weirdness. Yeah, it was gritty and real and a medieval overland journey to an uncertain destination. But what did they need him for, right?

Right, Maid's son? Ivan Zarevich said that while they had to recognize the otherworldly nature of the cow's son and his authority when he bested them in the competitions near the top of the episode, there was a pretty clear hierarchy between a queen's son and a maid's son. And the maid's son was really kind of... He turned to see the maid's son, looking in terror at something... well...

Something that was beginning to overshadow both of them. Ivan Zarevich turned and looked up at it. Huh, maybe we did need the cow's son. Was Ivan Zarevich's last thought before he was eaten. Hey, you guys are smiths, right? Ivan the cow's son, or we can probably just say Ivan now, asked the 12 guys. Kind of a lot of smiths for one village, don't you think? Ivan asked as he got off his horse.

The smiths said they really didn't have any context for how many smiths was an appropriate amount of smiths. It also apparently worked. What did he need? Well, how would you all like to not die? Ivan asked the village's dozen smiths, who looked at him warily. What did he mean by that? Was that a threat? Because it really sounded like a threat. Ivan said it was not a threat.

though they were an immense physical danger unless they did what he said. Okay, that definitely sounds like a threat, one of the Smiths said. Would you believe me if I told you you're about to be attacked by a monster? Ivan fumed. Yes, absolutely, the Smith said. Just lead with that next time. The others nodded. Wait, really?

"Yeah. Is it the witch that rides around in a flying mortar? Her dragon sons? Their sorceress wives? Their friend that rides around naked kidnapping women but who can't die?" The smith stated. "No, this one would be a giant pig," Ivan said. "The giant pig," the smithy replied. "You know what? Why not? What do you need?"

It's actually a giant pig, the smith said, as the earth trembled under the hooves of the giant sow that was lumbering their way. Ivan and the twelve smiths huddled behind the iron wall that the village's way too many smiths had just enough time to construct, proving, I guess, that it was just the right amount of smiths. Ivan said that he kept forgetting how weird things got the further you traveled out, in the wilderness. Though he was born from a cow who drank fish water,

and was only technically a few weeks old, so he supposed civilization wasn't all that exempt either. Okay, let's put a pin in all that, because I'm actually eager to hear how that happened. Present issue, though, a smith pointed through the square hole in the wall at the angry, monstrous, otherworldly sow. Streaked with mud and blood, and scratched by the trees that it bowled over in its path, the sow lurched toward them.

It stopped in front of the iron wall, and the men could see its relatively tiny pig eyes, snout, jowls, and saliva-soaked rows of rotting teeth. "'Smiths, hand the guilty one over to me,' the sow grumbled. "'We have him here,' the smiths cried out, grasping Ivan. "'He was a fool, telling us we should stand against you.' "'Wait, what?' Ivan turned as half a dozen smiths brought out the rope."

He warned us you were coming, but we still built the wall because you're not super respectful of human structures and Smithies are a pain in a half to rebuild, the man said, pointing out the remains of the mill that she still had on her chinny-chin-chin. If she stuck out her tongue through the hole, Ivan would be placed on it and she could leave. So that's what happened. The first part, the tongue bit.

The giant evil sow's stinking, slimy tongue extended through the hole in the wall, and Ivan grabbed it with the glowing orange tongs.

The smiths poured out the secret hidden doors, iron rods in hand, and while Ivan held the giant sow fast, they beat her side until her ribs were exposed because yes, fairy tales go extremely hard. That should not surprise you at this point. Because it's rare that you have much fight left in you with your chest splayed open, Ivan was able to let go of her tongue, grab his own iron rod, and quote, all her ribs were broken in half.

The sow groaned, seeing, now that she had literally no other choice, the error of her ways. She only wished for the storm bogatyr to release her soul for repentance. "'I will, as soon as you release my brothers.' The sow nodded and, with a few likely excruciating heaves, spat up the two brothers and their horses."

Ivan Zarevich and the maid's son flew to Ivan the cow's son, saying that they were so sorry that they doubted him. He wasn't weird and dangerous. The world was weird and dangerous. Let's never fight again. Ivan smiled. He forgave them. Their arc as brothers was complete. There would be no more obstacles now.

Oh, one more thing. Because the world was, in fact, weird and dangerous, he picked up the giant sow and body slammed her on the ground, and she instantly disintegrated into an evil spirit and vanished in the air, like a video game. The brothers, shivering in their sow digestive juices, said that this world was so, so weird.

Hey, chief advisor, the Indian king of presumably the Tsardom of India pulled his advisor over. Tell me, what does protected meadow mean? The man said that it seemed pretty obvious. It was a place that people shouldn't go. A meadow. Mostly. Oh, it was rhetorical. Oh, there were tents and campfires and people in the Indian king's protected meadow. He would take care of that.

Hey, you can't camp here. This is a protected meadow, the advisor wrote out in front of a guard. Ivan rose from the campfire and said that he and his brothers had come to court the king of India's daughter, Princess Maria. He must give her a marriage to Ivan Zarevich or he should send an army. Ivan Zarevich said, yeah. Wait, what?

An army, obviously, Princess Maria, of medieval India, said, not only did she not know this guy, but she really didn't like the tone behind the demand. And also the demand. Neither did her dad, the king of India. And, as he was a king, he did have an army. And three guys should be no problem. Can't see how this could possibly go wrong. Broth, the blinded man said, five hours later.

he and the man who had lost the use of his legs in the battle were the only two to come back thanks to broth the king reeled what yeah the man who had been blinded by the broth said

"'One of their guys, the other guy's, "'was cooking some broth for breakfast. "'He came out and waved, and half the army fell. "'Like, waved? "'Like, wafted a scent toward you? "'Or was it a force thing?' the king asked. "'The men shrugged. "'Maybe. "'Maybe neither, maybe both.'

They just felt the effects. And quick sidebar, that's all the story says. He was cooking and he waved the broth. Okay, assume I understand any of that. How many men remained to mount a counterattack? The king asked. The two men cleared their throat. Um, technically two, but they weren't really in any condition to fight. The king screamed.

So sorry for the misunderstanding, the king of India sat the Ivans down at the banquet table. He heard they had broth for breakfast, so he hoped they were hungry. She's gonna ask for an hour to change for dinner. Give her two, Ivan the cow's son said to his brother, Ivan Zarevich, as they sat down.

"'What? She's gonna ask for an hour to change clothes. Give her two,' Ivan said to Ivan. Ivan chimed in. "'What were they talking about? They loved whispering.' "'Shut up, Ivan,' Ivan said. "'I didn't say anything,' Ivan replied. "'I didn't mean you. Then why'd you say Ivan?' "'I need to change,' Princess Maria declared, interrupting the very clear and awkward whisper fight on the other side of the table.'

Would her conqueror, sorry, betrothed, allow her to go change? It shouldn't take an hour. Take two, Ivan Zarevich said to the cow's son's nods. I'm also going to go do stuff, Ivan the cow's son said. I was born from a cow and a fish dinner, so I barely belong at these fancy soirees. So I'm going to go take a walk.

Ivan the cow's son rose and left the room as the king of India was asking his brother's weight. Ivan was born from a cow? Outside, Ivan hung back just a bit to watch all of his suspicions confirmed. Princess Maria threw her head against the ground, transformed into a dove, and took to the sky.

I had hoped to avoid it, because we've been stretching the suspension of disbelief a lot with zero explanation. Anyway, Ivan can transform into a falcon. He was actually a fly when he was on Baba Yaga's stove, and I don't know why I'm choosing the transformation thing as a bridge too far in terms of realism, but here we are. The hero in the form of a falcon chased the princess through the air who's in the form of a dove.

She landed by the ocean, and Ivan, landing in a nearby tree and watching her, just out in the open because you never expect someone to follow you from home in the form of a falcon, saw her call on her grandfather. An elderly man's head popped from the sea, and Princess Maria smiled. Then she sighed. She was being forced into marriage with a man who had killed their whole army. She needed one of his hares.

She would pose a question for Ivan Zarevich. Which herb is this the root of? And if he got it wrong, he would have to leave. A nearby falcon mouthed, and the grandfather unwittingly agreed, said that he had some reservations about this plan, but plucked out his hair and gave it to her.

Those reservations, though, were confirmed when, after the dove flew away and grandfather resubmerged, Ivan changed forms into a dove himself, landed in the form of Maria, called on the confused grandfather again, but instead of explaining, as soon as he emerged, Ivan gripped him by all the hairs and ripped his head off.

Presenting the person you love with the severed head of a grandparent, any grandparent, but especially their own, is not a great way to start a relationship. That being said, it's a stretch to call what Ivan Zarevich and Maria have a relationship. All that aside, that demonstrates that the Ivans were one step ahead. And that, yes, they had successfully identified the source of the root. The pair was getting married. Today.

Later on that night, Ivan the cow's son walked up to his brother with a final ask. Hey, uh, kind of weird, but I need to take your place in your marriage bed on your wedding night. It was, yeah, a big ask, and Ivan the cow's son realized it. Yep, Ivan Zarevich said at the feast that night. Wait, really? I have a whole explanation about how you're going to die if I don't.

The cow's son said, but Ivan Zarevich cut him off, saying that he was going to stop the man right there. Didn't need it. Didn't want it. He trusted Ivan the cow's son to navigate whatever was going on in their lives. He had been eaten by a sow and then vomited up by a sow. That changes you. Using an old man's dripping head to coerce a woman into marriage isn't something he thought he'd do. Neither was returning that man's head to his body and watching it reattach and bring him back to life.

He low-key hated all this scary magical nonsense, but this was the world in which they lived. Please, Ivan should do whatever he needed to do. Ivan Zarevich drank another glass of wine.

It's interesting. All this time I thought Ivan the Cow's son was something of a hapless doofus. A super-powered guy, Mr. Magooing his way through life, following some manner of supernatural intuition when it came to the events of the story, but reacting, not planning.

There's no good way around it, so we're gonna go straight through. After Maria tries to smother him with a pillow, thinking that he was his brother who had the same name as him and looked exactly like him, Ivan the cow's son managed to slip out and beat her relentlessly with metal rods.

Iron, copper, and lead rods, in that order, if you were curious about what they were made of, though I can't imagine why you would be. Having physically beaten the princess into submission, because that's apparently the story we're in, she agreed to not try to murder the other Ivan. And Ivan the cow's son blessed them to live in harmony and love, though I can't possibly imagine how that's at all possible. ♪

"'You had one job,' the Tsar said to Ivan the Cow-son, "'to bring my heir home.'

"Um, if you listen back, my job was to save them from dragons, which I did," Ivan the Cow's son replied. "And also, his heir was home. Remember he threw the ball really high?" "That's still not a thing. Where is my son?" the Tsar demanded, but learned that his son had been dispatched by getting a kingdom and a wife. I mean, she loathed him, but no longer in an overtly murderous way.

which feels like close to a par for the course sort of scenario for royal marriages in the Middle Ages. The Tsar sighed, fine. Okay, Ivan the Cow's son was his heir. Ivan was accepted by his father happily ever after. There you go. They would never see the queen's son again, Ivan Tsarevich. And Ivan Tsarevich would probably be dispatched by the family of sorcerers in his new home. Ivan the maid's son had been dispossessed of any claim to the throne,

And the family now had an angry Baba Yaga to contend with, after Ivan the Cow's son killed pretty much her whole family. So, happily ever after for pretty much only Ivan the Cow's son.

There's something of a message lurking in this story. Ivan the Cow's son is never not reminded of his origins. The most humble possible, being born not even of a peasant or a farmer, but a farm animal. But within him were gifts that not only secured the best possible role, beating out even the son born to the ruler, but pushing back the darkness of the forest, defeating the dragons, witches, and...

According to some readings of the story, Baba Yaga herself, she was apparently in the form of that pig. I feel like that's up to interpretation. So yeah, no matter where you start in life, you have talents and gifts you might not even realize. And you too might be able to body slam evil giant sows and turn them into ghosts. Next time in two weeks, we're in Ghana, and we start the story with a talking baby who has a lot to say to the chief. And none of it is good.

If you'd like to support the show, there's still a membership thing on the site and on Apple Podcasts. For less than the price of a goldfish trophy, a giant fish trophy that you hang on your wall, but it's a goldfish snack, not an actual fish. It's actually kind of clever. You can get extra episodes and ad-free versions of the show that, like the goldfish trophy, are slightly less tacky than a bigmouth billy bass. Check out mythpodcast.com slash membership. What?

or find us on Apple Podcasts for more info on the membership. The creature this time is the headless trunk from Scotland. Called a word I can't pronounce, the headless trunk is a headless trunk. It's a body walking around without a head. And if you see it and you think anything other than, oh my gosh, that's a body walking around without a head, what's happening right now? That's the wrong reaction. But if your second thought is, oh, okay, I'm probably safe, that would also be the wrong reaction.

I'm being a little unfair to the headless trunk. It's actually the best friend you'll ever have, if you are the McDonald's of Murar on the Isle of Skye. And if you want an unpaid, violent, supernatural security guard for your estate, for everyone else visiting your estate or walking by the estate, or existing anywhere the headless trunk thinks you shouldn't be even moderately close to the estate, watch out. Yeah, the headless trunk will kill and mutilate any visitors to the estate.

It's a weird way to show your loyalty, attacking at family's visitors. And it doesn't seem especially desirable. It only attacked at night, and only attacked men, so not women or children, and only solitary men. So if people came out in a group to hunt down the headless body that was attacking and killing people on the road, it would never appear for them.

A lot of people were killed by this thing, but only one had a jacked best friend from mainland Scotland. His name was literally Big John, and he sought out the creature and wrestled it into submission, pinning it until morning when it would either submit or be destroyed by the sun.

It chose submission and had to swear on a Bible, a candle, and a black stocking. That seems especially degrading, swear to my socks after I spent all night wrestling you, but it worked. It took off before the sun rose, and I have the tune it sang in musical notation. If anyone with more musical skill than me, so anyone, would like to try their hand and post it on the Discord server. Ah!

After that, the headless trunk was never seen again near the McDonald's estate. Sidebar, I looked it up. There is no McDonald's restaurant on the Isle of Skye. It's probably for the best. You don't want to encourage the existence of headless bodies attacking people or the existence of McDonald's restaurants.

That's it for this time. Myths and Legends is by Jason and Carissa Weiser. Our theme song is by Broke for Free. And the Creature of the Week music is by Steve Combs. There are links to even more of the music we used in the show notes. Thank you so much for listening, and we'll see you next time.

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