Evil, envious tongues whispered lies to Prince Vladimir about the old bogatyr Ilya Muromets, claiming that Ilya boasted of driving the Prince from Kiev and seizing his throne. Vladimir flew into a rage and ordered Ilya imprisoned in a deep, damp, dark dungeon. The hero did not argue. He bade farewell to his beloved shaggy horse, Burushka, and let himself be led down into the cold, lightless pit.
Things would have gone badly for the bogatyr there—but, mercifully, the young Princess, Vladimir’s daughter, pitied him. Secretly, she sent down soft pillows, silk blankets, warm clothing, and hearty food. So the hero lived on in the dungeon.
Meanwhile, a dark cloud gathered over Kiev. The Tatar enemy, Tsar Kalin, sent word that he would soon march on the city with his army. He demanded that the Prince welcome him on every street with barrels of sweet wine. Vladimir begged for a reprieve of three years and three months to prepare—and Kalin granted it. But when the appointed time passed, the Prince wept bitterly:
“We no longer have the glorious bogatyr Ilya Muromets! There is no one to stand up for our native land, no one to save Kiev! And I destroyed him in that dungeon!”
The young Princess spoke up:
“Father, Ilya Muromets is alive! He has not perished!”
Vladimir rushed to the dungeon—and there was Ilya, alive, well, dressed, and fed. Overjoyed, the Prince led the hero to his white-stone palace, feasted him, and begged:
“The dog Tsar Kalin has encircled our Kiev. Help us, Ilya! Stand up for the fatherland! Go against the enemy host!”
Ilya prepared for battle. His faithful young servant had tended his horse all these years. The hero rode out into the open field. The Tatar army stretched endlessly before him. In another direction stood white tents where twelve Russian bogatyrs had pitched camp. Ilya urged them to join him against Tsar Kalin.
But Samson Samoilovich answered:
“We will not help Vladimir. He feeds and rewards his boyars, but gives nothing to us bogatyrs.”
No matter how Ilya pleaded, none would ride with him. He set out alone.
His battle was ill-fated: he fought and trampled the enemy, but was captured at last. The Tatars brought him to Tsar Kalin. Kalin greeted Ilya warmly and began to persuade him:
“Leave Prince Vladimir, Ilya. Serve me, Tsar Kalin. I will give you precious garments and countless gold.”
Ilya replied:
“I do not want your rich gifts. I will serve not you, but my native land!”
He tried to leave, but the Tatars pressed around him. Seizing one Tatar, Ilya used him as a club to beat back the others. He broke free to the open field, leaped onto his horse, and galloped away. He had a powerful bow and red-hot arrows. He loosed an arrow toward the tents of his fellow bogatyrs.
The heroes were sleeping. The arrow fell upon the chest of Samson Samoilovich. He woke instantly and roused the others.
“Glorious Russian bogatyrs,” he said, “Ilya must be in trouble—he has sent us his arrow. We must ride to his aid!”
They saddled their horses and raced to save Ilya. Together, all of them charged against the Tatar host. They slaughtered the army and took Tsar Kalin captive. They would have cut off his head, but Ilya stopped them:
“Let us bring him to Kiev,” he said, “and let Prince Vladimir decide his fate.”
They brought Tsar Kalin to the glorious city of Kiev. Kalin begged Vladimir for mercy:
“Do not cut off my wild head! I will pay tribute to you forever.”
Vladimir agreed, and on that, their enmity ended.