The Knight Who Was Afraid of Spiders

⏱ ~6 min reading

In the castle of the Gray Oak there served a knight named Nikolai. Tall, with broad shoulders, with a reddish beard braided in two small braids - like his grandfather's. He had a saber with an engraved hilt, a helmet with falcon feathers and a horse named Thunder. In tournaments, Nikolai won three times a day. In campaigns he was not afraid of thunderstorms, wolves, or dark forests.

He was only afraid of one thing.

Spiders.

If a small spider suddenly descended from the ceiling in his room on a cobweb, Nikolai, this stern knight, would sit on the bed with his legs tucked up and stare at it with wide eyes. His heart would pound like a sparrow's. His palms would sweat. And when the spider even started to move its legs, Nikolai would let out a faint, childish scream.

That was his secret. A big, carefully hidden secret.

In the morning he would go around the corners of his room with a broom—sweeping away the cobwebs while no one was watching. On the march he would ask his squire to make the bed first—quietly, as if it were a matter of honor. In the castle corridors, where long silver threads sometimes hung in the corners, he would walk, looking straight ahead, nowhere to go.

No one knew. Not the king, not his knightly friends, not the old groom. Nikolai kept his secret as one takes a single candle on a windy night.

Then one summer evening, Princess Marichka's name day was celebrated in the castle. Music was playing, the hall smelled of almond cookies and fresh lavender, long wax candles were burning in the candelabras. The knights were dressed in full dress, the ladies in light dresses. Nikolai, like everyone else, was at the celebration.

When it was already dark, he decided to quietly go up to his room - to remove the heavy ceremonial belt that was weighing on his back. He walked along a long stone corridor, lit only by a few torches. Warm shadows moved on the walls. The stone was cool underfoot.

And then, from behind a ledge on the wall, a small, thin, eight-legged spider slowly descended onto the hilt of his sword. The most ordinary one. The size of a cherry.

Nikolai froze. Then he screamed. Then he jumped back so hard that he almost sat on the floor. The sword clanged. The knight jumped back against the wall and covered his face with his hand, as if a spider might jump at him.

"Ah," he whispered to himself. "Just calm down. Just calm down, Mykola..."

And at that very moment Princess Marichka came out from around the corner. Quiet, in a blue dress, with a braid over her shoulder. She was also climbing up to herself - behind a warm scarf. Seeing the knight running sideways from something small on the floor, she stopped.

And then she laughed softly. Not maliciously. Not mockingly. The way people laugh when they see something touching and unexpected.

Mykola turned around. Red as grape leaves in autumn. He could have fallen through the ground, but he would have been walking there for a long time.

"Princess..." he muttered. "I... it's not that..."

Marichka quickly pulled herself together. She came closer, put her finger behind the hem of his jacket, and said quietly, very gently:

"Mr. Mykola. It's okay. I'm not laughing at you. I just... I thought it was funny and cute at the same time. Everyone has their fears. You're a knight in another way. One that really matters.".

Mykola looked at the floor. His cheeks were hot.

“I haven’t told anyone,” he finally whispered. “For twenty years.”.

"And I won't tell anyone," Marichka nodded. "On my word, Princess.".

She bent down. In her delicate little hand she took the spider—carefully, like a grain of sand. It wasn't even scared—it ran in a circle along her finger and froze.

"Come on," she said. "We'll take him outside. In the garden. He'll be better there.".

They walked down the corridor together, went downstairs, opened the heavy oak door. The garden smelled of linden blossom and night grass. Somewhere in the depths a lone cricket was singing. Marichka carefully placed the spider on a wide leaf of a lilac bush.

"Go, little one. Live.".

The spider was apparently pleased - it quickly darted into the shadows and disappeared.

Mykola stood nearby and was silent. His throat felt warm and slightly ticklish.

“Thank you,” he said finally. “I… I didn’t know how to thank you.”.

"And you don't have to," Marichka smiled. "Just be there when I'm scared.".

“Do you ever get scared?” the knight was surprised.

The princess nodded.

— Heights. Very high. I can't climb the highest tower. My head feels dizzy, my heart skips a beat. Everyone thinks I don't like looking out from there. In fact, I'm afraid.

"Ah," said Nikolai seriously. "Then I'll hold your hand when you have to go there. And I'll never tell anyone.".

"Agreed," Marichka nodded.

They stood on the porch a little longer. The garden breathed the warm night air. The sky was full of stars.

From that day on, Knight Nikolai and Princess Marichka became true friends. Not out of laughter, not out of pride, not out of duty. Because of that little spider on the hilt of the sword.

Marichka never laughed at Mykola in front of the others. If a spider suddenly appeared in the corner of the hall, she would quietly, as if by chance, approach and carry it outside. Mykola, in turn, never made fun of her fear of heights. When it was necessary to climb the watchtower to see if a thunderstorm was coming from behind the mountains, he would simply offer her his hand. And hold it tightly. And talk about something funny all the way up.

And at dinner the old king often looked at them and thought: "These are the strongest in the castle. Because they hide nothing from each other.".

Because fear is such a thing. If you keep it inside, it grows and becomes heavier. And if you tell a good friend about it, it shrinks to the size of a small spider. And it climbs off the hilt of a sword onto a wide lilac leaf. And disappears into the shadows.