In a small village in Slovenia lived a huge strong man named Martin Krpan. Martin had a small mare, and together they smuggled english salt from the port by the sea to central Slovenia. Smuggling salt was strictly forbidden, but Martin did it anyway. As one does.
On a harsh winter day, when the roads were snowed over until only the smallest path was visible, Martin was smuggling when a fancy carriage came driving towards him. There being not enough room, strong Martin picks his mare up, salt and all, and moves her out of the way.
The carriage stops and out peeks the Emperor who was traveling to the coastal Trieste. Martin, being a simple farmer, had no idea who the man was. The emperor was very impressed by Martin’s strength, so he asked for his name and his home. Then he asks what Martin’s mare is carrying.
Emperor asks why are whetstones in sacks like that.
Marin thinks fast and improvises that he worries the stones might crack in the cold.
(Slovenian winters really are bloody cold btw)
Emperor ah-s and hm-s and drives on.
A year after that, to Vienna comes a great hulking man from Turkey, named Brute.
(Slovenian: Brdavs)(Also, very descriptive name, that)
Brute brought with him great terror, as he challenged all the warriors and heros in the land to single combat. And killed them all. Seriously, they died like flies.
So now the Emperor, afraid he’ll lose all great men to this monstrous warrior, remembers Martin, the man who could lift a horse like it was made of feathers. So he sends a coach to get him.
They find Martin (How I’m not sure, him living in a tiny insignificant village) and supposedly come just in time to see the guy brawling with fifteen men and wining. So now they are absolutely sure they have the right man.
So off they go to Vienna, where the whole city is covered in black mourning cloth. Just that day, Brute killed Emperor’s son, and everyone is very depressed.
The Emperor is all relieved when he sees Martin, gets him all the food and drink he wants, and pesters him with questions about battle tactics all the while.
(I always imagine the Emperor as a small fussy man with a huge wig btw)
Martin just kind of grunts in answer, telling him not to worry. In as few words as possible. So after being fed and watered, the go looking for a weapon.
In the armoury, Martin tries handling each weapon and all just crumble in his hands. Just, break apart. Martin grunts again, the Emperor is wringing his hands.
In the end Martin maked his own weapon, something that looks a bit like an axe and a bit like a cleaver. Then he takes that blade and goes to the courtyard. And takes down the most beautiful young linden tree, Empress’s favourite. And he makes a club out of it. She is very furious. Spitting mad.
Then they go looking for a horse. He pulls them out of the stables one by one by their tails, with ease. Which offends him, like, very. And he refuses to fight until his trusty mare is sent for. Which it is. (I pity the poor guy who had to get her to Vienna. I wonder is he survived the trip)
Then it is the time for battle. Dramatically the opponents meet in the middle of the field, and the Brute sees this huge man on a tiny horse, a sight so comical he begins to laugh. Very loudly.
Brute humors Martin anyway, and they shake hands before the battle. And Martin squeezes so hard blood squirts out from Brute’s fingernails. (Ew.)
Now Brute is wary. Because, blood? But he thinks, whatever, he’s a peasant, he doesn’t know how to fight. So, tadaah, they fight.
And Brute swings his mighty sword, which is intercepted by the linden club. The soft wood gives like butter and the blade is stuck. Then Martin swings his axe and chops Brute’s head clean off. Chop chop.
Martin returns back to court with Brute’s head, and everyone is very relieved. So relieved in fact, the Emperor offers him all sorts of things, food and wine and even his own daughter in marriage.
(The Empress is murderous. Again. To marry her precious daughter to a peasant hulk of a man who doesn’t even wear nice clothes or high heals. Outrageous!)
But Martin refuses all, squints at the Emperor for a bit, then smoothly confesses to his salt smuggling business. And totally gets him to sign a royal permit on salt transportation.
So Martin the strongest Slovenian returned home, now legally transporting salt for all his days.
