Legend of Arbanas

The shadow creeps gently from my feet and reaches through the empty crevices into the dark depths of the earth. “Sometimes, when I come here, a cold shiver runs down my spine. This beast that lies beneath can always come out again.” I watch her with interest. We’re both walking on the muddy mud of the Muddy Volcanoes, and all around you see nothing but crumpled earth, rising cones planted with wet clay, and somewhere in the distance, the vivid green barely scraping the bad earth here.
“I’ve never heard of the beast,” I dared to say. Is it right now beneath us?” He slipped his hand around mine and, squeezing my fingers gently, whispered, “Don’t you want me to tell you the story at home?”
“It is said that the events I am about to tell you, my dear, can be traced back to the time of Prince Mihnea III, also known as Turcitul, and Lady Neaga and her children. People say that the hill and the “cauldrons” that boil continuously at Berca, from that time, would also derive their name. So, the story goes that Mrs Neaga, with her three daughters and her son, had retired to their parental homes in Cislău, where they tried to make the best of their lives, but without the indulgences of the time when they lived in the royal city. The people of the surrounding villages loved her and considered Mrs. Neaga as their mistress.
One day, several peasants came to her court with complaints. And their mourning was by no means ordinary. They complained to the Lady that the accursed dragon was destroying all their savings, and that wherever he went he was left with nothing but chaff. In dismay, Mrs. Neaga asked the poor souls how she, a woman alone, could help them? But the people had already spoken: only the sword and the brave heart of Arbănaș, her lordship’s son, could defeat the dragon.
Arbănaș was now, a lad in the full force of the word, with a pissed moustache, and longing to measure his strength against someone his own equal, to prove to all that he had a kingly bone in him. As soon as he heard about the dragon and the trouble he causes innocent people, Arbănaș began his preparations. What’s more, the next day at dawn, he saddled up and set off. He passed through the woods and over the hills and soon reached the Slănic Valley. Here he could see the misfortunes that the dragon had wrought everywhere, but he was more saddened by the fact that the people were very distressed and he was sorry that they had little to put in their barns in winter. The hideous creature had plundered almost all their crops. What’s more, it had eaten or even killed the animals in their households.
The wanderer followed the tracks and passed through several villages – Carpiniștea, Valea Părului, Beceni, Mărgăriți, Dimiana, Dogari and others, where he saw the same damage. Eventually, the tracks led him to the foot of a steep hill. On top of it rested the dragon. Apparently at least one pair of eyes out of the seven heads remained on watch, for at Arbănaș’s approach the dragon shook himself as if he had just emerged from the water, quickly raised all his heads, yawned his fiery mouth and stood waiting.
Legend has it that he didn’t have long to stay that way, for the brave Arbănaș also aimed at one of his heads and quickly sent an arrow. Then, before the beast knew what he was dealing with, Arbănaș cut off another head with his club. Black blood began to gurgle from the dragon’s throat and trickle towards Slănic. Terrified of pain but also terrified of Arbănaș’s strong-willed determination, the beast fled towards the underground hiding place he had at Berca. But the lord’s son-in-law was hot on her heels.It was no use for the dragon to shoot flames from the other heads, for Arbănaș was leaping at them in the horse’s rush. With the horse’s help, Arbănaș also dodged the obstacles that the dragon tried to put in his way, and the distance between them decreased as he watched. With a single sword stroke, Arbănaș cut off another of the lion’s heads. But because of the head that had just been severed and was rolling downhill, Arbănaș would have fallen from his horse, and before he could mount up and set off in pursuit of the dragon, the dragon had reached the hiding-place at Berca, where he thinned and with blood pouring out he entered through a secret mouth into the glod and remained there for eternity, not daring to come out into the daylight for fear of Arbănaș.
Around the lighione’s hiding place no grass has grown since, and no grass grows even today, and the ground is bruised and cracks everywhere. From place to place small mud boils and small soap-like blisters come to light. The legend says that the dry, cracked earth is the skin of the dragon, and that the beast’s dirty, cursed blood comes out of the constantly boiling meshes.
Now do you understand, my dear, why I couldn’t tell you that dreadful story there on the beast’s back? No one knows anything more about the Beast, and if the beast finds out, we are very much afraid that he will come out again to wreak havoc on our lands.”

Source: www.tinutulbuzaului.ro