The Story of the Wooden Phials_web

The Story
of the
Wooden Phials

The Story of the Wooden Phials
© International Council for Cultural Centers, Publisher, 2018
© Lilyana Kovacheva, Author, 2018
© Nelly Sand, artist, 2018
ISBN 978-619-7273-08-3
All rights reserved!
This book, as well as parts of it, cannot be reproduced in any way or form without the explicit
permission of the International Council for Cultural Centers and the authors! Offenders are to be
pursued by the law!

Lilyana Kovacheva
The Story
of the
Wooden Phials
Sofia, 2018

Beauty and riches were bestowed on the country of Rosaria. Beauty
it had by way of God’s creation; and richness it had because it nestled a huge valley of
roses. The roses produced richly aromatic attar, worthier than gold. Rosaria’s king and
queen were also beautiful and kind-hearted, but they were misfortunate. They had
everything in the world, but had no children of their own.
One day, the queen almost trampled over an old man while riding her horse to
the castle. Out of all her merciful heart, she jumped off the saddle and leaned over the
old man:
– Forgive me, dear old man, I didn’t see you!
– I forgive you, my child, but where was your mind so far adrift that your eyes
would fail to see?
– I am overwhelmed with sorrow, old man, deep sorrow...
Meanwhile, courtiers and servants from the queen’s retinue stepped forward and
circled them. The queen took a purse of goldpieces from a servant and put it into the
lap of the astonished old man.
At night she had a wonderful dream: the old man was smiling and waving at her.
He told her to come the following day, but be on her own. He knew about her sorrow
and could help her.
The queen rose up the next morning, saddled her horse and slipped out of the
castle unnoticed. The old man was waiting for her.
– Sit down, child, and listen. There is a law in your kingdom saying that...each
one who brings a single rose out of the Rose Valley shall be punished by death. People
here work from dawn to dusk. The kingdom gets richer, while they suffer in poverty,
they suffer body and soul. If the king issues a new law allowing everyone to plant roses
around their houses, when these roses bloom, you will have your child.
The queen came back home, crestfallen and sad.
– What’s wrong with you?, the king asked her.
– I thought how cruel it was to punish those who take a single rose out of the Valley.
Why couldn’t the people working there grow roses in their homes? They are poor
anyway, but, at least, their souls would become richer with the aroma and the beauty
of the gorgeous flowers.
2

3

– That’s how it’s been ever since. Our ancestors adopted this rule, but I can
revoke it, if this will make you happy.
The queen smiled in hope, but told him nothing. The next day brought a miracle
unheard of and never seen before: drummers rattled in every square of the
kingdom’s towns and villages. ‘Whoever wants to plant roses in their houses, go and
report to the Chief Gardener for planting stock.’ Town-criers were shouting at the
top of their voices.
One spring passed and a second spring came. The roses in the people’s houses
bloomed. And, hark, the bells rang triumphantly! The queen gave birth to a girl, as
charming as a flower. All, young and old, rich and poor, feasted for three days and
three nights. They named the young princess Rosea. She grew up to be the most wonderful
princess in the world. She learnt to ride her young horse across the fields. Men,
women and children peeked from behind the rose-clad fence walls and greeted her
cheerfully. They owed their richer lives to her. Traders were buying their rose oil as well.
To the north, the kingdom of Rosaria bordered on high and mist-brooded mountains
where the country of Balkania was lying. A king named Dog-Head ruled over its
wild mountain folk. His subjects lived in poverty. They made earthenware, bred flocks
of sheep and goats and hunted wild game for skins. They often came down to Rosaria
to sell their produce. They bought wheat, garment and other stuff they needed. Later,
they told stories about the rich people and the splendid life in the lowlands.
King Dog-Head was envious of his neighbours. He was ugly and his single eye
sparkled with cruelty. He decided to attack them. The shadow of war overhung the
kingdom.
The royal family, the courtiers and the people of Rosaria lived in blitheness.
Almost nobody guarded the mountain passages. And there came ominous trouble!
One misfortunate day, king Dog-Head’s hordes avalanched from the mountains.
They conquered the capital, the towns and villages where the shock-possessed folk
put up no resistance at all. King Dog-Head settled himself in the throne room, agape
at its glamour and beauty.
He was about to order the royalties’ decapitation, when princess Rosea ran
into the room.
– Since you’re about to kill my parents, you have to kill me as well! And let
legends unfold the cruelty you did to a child!
Dog-Head stood there in utter dismay and finally ordered the exile of the royal
family into a humble remote castle.
Harsh and severe days befell the enslaved kingdom. Again, the people were
stricken by poverty. The king and the queen accepted their bad fate and peacefully
awaited for their days on earth to end.
4

5

Princess Rosea grew up to be fifteen. Day and night, she pondered on ways to liberate
her country from the bondage. One day, a foreign trader came to the castle. He brought gilded-thread
fabrics and small leather containers called phials. An idea sparkled in the princess’
bright mind.
She ordered the trader to deliver ten cargos of phials, which had to be empty. After some
time, the trader came back with the demanded goods. The princess’ loyal servants circled
around the country to give the phials out to all who worked in the Rose Valley. Time went by,
and the soldiers guarding the rose distilleries began to wonder why yields diminished. But
how could they figure out that the little phial hanging on the neck of every wretched cottager
was filled with the priceless rose attar! AN phials were emptied into wooden flasks and stored
in the secret vault of the castle. The eyes of the princess were no longer gloomy. Her lips were
sometimes blossoming with a smile. Rumours spread that the princess had conceived of a plan
to set her people free from the unbearable tyranny.
When the princess decided that she had enough of rose attar, she sent a message to king
Dog-Head. She was informing him that a prince from a distant country was asking to marry
her and she had decided to accept. She was entreating humbly for a permission to transport
her dowry in a caravan not subject to checks by anyone.
– Let her go!, waved his hand Dog-Head, ‘the kingdom of Rosaria is mine. I am rich.’
– Let her go!, his courtiers nodded their heads apathetically.
6

– Let her go!, repeated in chorus his military commanders, who had already discharged
the army as they were no longer afraid of the enslaved Rosarian cottagers.
Accompanied by a mall suite of courtiers and servants, the princess departed in the caravan.
Nobody stopped them on the way. Once they crossed the border, she dressed in a foreign
man’s apparel. They reached one big city after another, and, as nobody had ever heard of her,
she offered the rose attar phials for sale. Gold poured in like a river. The princess’ heralds crisscrossed
nearby countries to recruit mercenaries. The unknown trader was a generous payer.
The great day arrived. The recruited army lead by adorable princess Rosea conquered
towns and fortresses with the support of the riotous local folk. She reached the capital city. In
the same throne room, where ten years before Dog-Head proclaimed himself ruler, he lay now,
shackled at the feet of the princess. All wanted to see him dead, but the princess was benevolent
and adamant.
– No! He spared my parents and myself. Now I will spare him. Take him to one of the
towers of his own castle in the mountains where he will be kept captive for the rest of his life.
Glorious days dawned on the kingdom of Rosaria. Rivers of milk and honey flowed in.
The wild mountain hordes were no longer a threat to them because they had amalgamated
into the Rosarian people. Legends were told about princess Rosea’s beauty and smartness.
The Rose Valley exists until this day. They say that a tomb had been discovered with decorated
wails depicting a king and a queen of remarkable beauty. A rose-adorned chariot was probably
carrying Rosea who had married an unknown prince.
The end
7

Afterword
The Rosaria of the ancient times is called Bulgaria these days. The Rose Valley exists
and the invaluable rose attar is being sold around the world. The wooden phials full of
rose water are selling as souvenirs. Eighty years ago, a Thracian sepulchre with gorgeous
murals was discovered near the town of Kazanlak. It was listed under the aegis of UNESCO.
So, here is how a truth became a fairy tale and one fairy tale turned out to be true.
The Author

Collecting roses

Price 8,00 €
ISBN 978-619-7273-08-3