Complete Works of Henryk Sienkiewicz

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

  Zbyszko was not afraid of robbers nor of armed knights; he did not even think about them. But he was filled with great anxiety, and longed with his whole soul to be at the Mazowiecki court. Would he find Danusia still a lady-in-waiting of the princess, or the wife of some Mazowiecki knight? Sometimes it seemed to him impossible that she should forget him; then sometimes he thought that perhaps Jurand went to the court from Spychow and married the girl to some neighbor or friend. Jurand had told him in Krakow, that he could not give Danusia to him; therefore it was evident that he had promised her to somebody else; evidently he was bound by an oath, and now he had fulfilled his promise. Zbyszko called Sanderus and questioned him again; but the German prevaricated more and more.

  Therefore, Zbyszko was riding along, sad and unhappy. He did not think about Bogdaniec, nor about Zgorzelice, but only how he should act. First, it was necessary to ascertain the truth at the Mazowiecki court; therefore, he rode hastily, only stopping for a short time at the houses of noblemen, in the inns and in the cities to rest the horses. He had never ceased to love Danusia; but while in Bogdaniec and Zgorzelice, chatting almost every day with Jagienka and admiring her beauty, he had not thought about Danusia often. Now she was constantly in his thoughts, day and night. Even in his sleep, he saw her standing before him, with a lute in her hands and a garland on her head. She stretched her hands toward him, and Jurand drew her away. In the morning, when the dreams disappeared, a greater longing came, and he loved this girl more than ever now, when he was uncertain whether they had taken her from him or not.

  Sometimes he feared that they had married her against her will; therefore, he was not angry with her, as she was only a child and could not have her own will. But he was angry with Jurand and with Princess Januszowna. He determined that he would not cease to serve her; even if he found her somebody else’s wife, he would deposit the peacocks’ crests at her feet.

  Sometimes he was consoled by the thought of a great war. He felt that during the war, he would forget about everything and that he would escape all sorrows and griefs. The great war seemed suspended in the air. It was not known whence the news came, because there was peace between the king and the Order; nevertheless, wherever Zbyszko went, nothing else was talked about. The people had a presentiment that it would come, and some of them said openly: “Why were we united with Litwa, if not against those wolves, the Knights of the Cross? Therefore we must finish with them once for all, or they will destroy us.” Others said: “Crazy monks! They are not satisfied with Plowce! Death is over them, and still they have taken the land of Dobrzyn.”

  In all parts of the kingdom, they were making preparations, gravely, without boasting, as was customary for a fight for life or death; but with the silent, deadly grudge of a mighty nation, which had suffered wrongs for a long time, and finally was ready to administer a terrible punishment. In all the houses of the nobility, Zbyszko met people who were convinced that at any moment one might be obliged to mount his horse. Zbyszko was pleased to see these hasty preparations which he met at every step. Everywhere other cares gave way to thoughts about horses and armor. Everywhere the people were gravely inspecting spears, swords, axes, helmets and javelins. The blacksmiths were busy day and night, hammering iron sheets and making heavy armor, which could hardly be lifted by the refined western knights, but which the strong noblemen of Wielko and Malopolska could wear very easily. The old people were pulling out musty bags full of grzywns from their chests, for the war expedition of their children. Once Zbyszko passed the night in the house of a wealthy nobleman, Bartosz of Bielaw, who having twenty-two sturdy sons, pledged his numerous estates to the monastery in Lowicz, to purchase twenty-two suits of armor, the same number of helmets and weapons of war. Zbyszko now realized that it would be necessary to go to Prussia, and he thanked God that he was so well provided.

  Many thought that he was the son of a wojewoda; and when he told the people that he was a simple nobleman, and that armor such as he wore, could be bought from the Germans by paying for it with a good blow of an axe, their hearts were filled with enthusiasm for war. Many a knight seeing that armor, and desiring to possess it, followed Zbyszko, and said: “Will you not fight for it?”

  In Mazowsze, the people did not talk so much about the war. They also believed that it would come, but they did not know when. In Warszawa there was peace. The court was in Ciechanow, which Prince Janusz rebuilt after the Lithuanian invasion; nothing of the old town remained, only the castle.

  In the city of Warszawa, Zbyszko was received by Jasko Socha, the starosta of the castle, and the son of the wojewoda Abraham, who was killed at Worskla. Jasko knew Zbyszko, because he was with the princess in Krakow; therefore he received him hospitably and with joy; but the young man, before he began to eat or drink, asked Jasko about Danusia. But he did not know anything about her, because the prince and the princess had been in Ciechanow since fall. In Warszawa there were only a few archers and himself, to guard the castle. He had heard that there had been feasts and weddings in Ciechanow; but he did not know which girls were married.

  “But I think,” said he, “that Jurandowna is not married; it could not be done without Jurand, and I have not heard of his arrival. There are two brothers of the Order, comthurs, with the prince; one from Jansbork and the other from Szczytno, and also some foreign guests; on such occasions, Jurand never goes to the court, because the sight of a white mantle enrages him. If Jurand were not there, there would be no wedding! If you wish, I will send a messenger to ascertain and tell him to return, immediately; but I firmly believe that you will find Jurandowna still a girl.”

  “I am going there to-morrow myself; but may God reward you for your kindness. As soon as the horses are rested, I will go, because I shall have no peace, until I know the truth.”

  But Socha was not satisfied with that, and inquired among the nobles and the soldiers if they had heard about Jurandowna’s wedding. But nobody had heard anything, although there were several among them who had been in Ciechanow.

  Meanwhile Zbyszko retired greatly relieved. While lying in bed he decided to get rid of Sanderus; but afterward he thought that the scoundrel might be useful to him because he could speak German. Sanderus had not told him a falsehood; and although he was a costly acquisition, because he ate and drank as much as four men would in the inns, still he was serviceable, and showed some attachment for the young knight. Then he possessed the art of writing, and that gave him a superiority over the shield-bearer, the Czech, and even over Zbyszko himself. Consequently Zbyszko permitted him to accompany his retinue to Ciechanow. Sanderus was glad of this, because he noticed that being in respectable company, he won confidence and found purchasers for his wares more easily. After stopping one night in Nasielsk, riding neither too swiftly nor too slowly, they perceived next day toward evening, the walls of the castle of Ciechanow. Zbyszko stopped in an inn to don his armor, so as to enter the castle according to knightly custom, with his helmet on his head and his spear in his hand; then he mounted his enormous stallion, and having made the sign of the cross in the air, he rushed forward. He had gone only a short distance, when the Czech who was riding behind him, drew near and said:

  “Your Grace, some knights are coming behind us; they must be Krzyzaks.”

  Zbyszko turned and saw about half a furlong behind him, a splendid retinue at the head of which there were riding two knights on fine Pomeranian horses, both in full armor, each of them wearing a white mantle with a black cross, and a helmet having a high crest of peacock’s feathers.

  “For God’s sake, Krzyzacy!” said Zbyszko.

  Involuntarily he leaned forward in his saddle and aimed his spear; seeing this the Czech seized his axe. The other attendants being experienced in war, were also ready, not for a fight, because the servants did not participate in single combat, but to measure the space for the fight on horseback, or to level the ground for the fight on foot. The Czech alone, being a nobleman, was ready to fight; but he expected that Zbyszko would chal
lenge before he attacked, and he was surprised to see the young knight aim his spear before the challenge.

  But Zbyszko came to his senses in time. He remembered how he attacked Lichtenstein near Krakow, and all the misfortunes which followed; therefore he raised the spear and handed it to the Czech. Without drawing his sword, he galloped toward the Krzyzaks. When he came near them, he noticed that there was a third knight, also with a peacock’s crest on his helmet, and a fourth, without armor, but having long hair, who seemed to be a Mazur. Seeing them, he concluded that they must be some envoys to the prince of Mazowiecki; therefore he said aloud:

  “May Jesus Christ be praised!”

  “For ages and ages!” answered the long-haired knight.

  “May God speed you!”

  “And you also, sir!”

  “Glory be to St. George!”

  “He is our patron. You are welcome, sir.”

  Then they began to bow; Zbyszko told his name, who he was, what his coat of arms was, what his war-cry was and whence he was going to the Mazowiecki court. The long-haired knight said that his name was Jendrek of Kropiwnica and that he was conducting some guests to the prince; Brother Godfried, Brother Rotgier, also Sir Fulko de Lorche of Lotaringen, who being with the Knights of the Cross, wished to see the prince and especially the princess, the daughter of the famous “Kiejstut.”

  While they were conversing, the foreign knights sat erect on their horses, occasionally bending their heads which were covered with iron helmets ornamented with peacocks’ tufts. Judging from Zbyszko’s splendid armor, they thought that the prince had sent some important personage, perhaps his own son, to meet them. Jendrek of Kropiwnica said further:

  “The comthur, or as we would say the starosta from Jansbork is at our prince’s castle; he told the prince about these knights; that they desired to visit him, but that they did not dare, especially this knight from Lotaringen, who being from a far country, thought that the Saracens lived right beyond the frontier of the Knights of the Cross, and that there was continual war with them. The prince immediately sent me to the boundary, to conduct them safely to his castle.”

  “Could they not come without your help!”

  “Our nation is very angry with the Krzyzaks, because of their great treacherousness; a Krzyzak will hug and kiss you, but he is ready in the same moment to stab you with a knife from behind; and such conduct is odious to us Mazurs. Nevertheless anyone will receive even a German in his house, and will not wrong his guest; but he would stop him on the road. There are many who do this for vengeance, or for glory.”

  “Who among you is the most famous?”

  “There is one whom all Germans fear to meet; his name is Jurand of Spychow.”

  The heart of the young knight throbbed when he heard that name; immediately he determined to question Jendrek of Kropiwnica.

  “I know!” said he; “I heard about him; his daughter Danuta was girl-in-waiting with the princess; afterward she was married.”

  Having said this, he looked sharply into the eyes of the Mazowiecki knight, who answered with great astonishment:

  “Who told you that? She is very young yet. It is true that it sometimes happens that very young girls are married, but Jurandowna is not married. I left Ciechanow six days ago and I saw her then with the princess. How could she marry during advent?”

  Zbyszko having heard this, wanted to seize the knight by the neck and shout: “May God reward you for the news!” but he controlled himself, and said:

  “I heard that Jurand gave her to some one.”

  “It was the princess who wished to give her, but she could not do it against Jurand’s will. She wanted to give her to a knight in Krakow, who made a vow to the girl, and whom she loves.”

  “Does she love him?” exclaimed Zbyszko.

  At this Jendrek looked sharply at him, smiled and said:

  “Do you know, you are too inquisitive about that girl.”

  “I am asking about my friend to whom I am going.”

  One could hardly see Zbyszko’s face under the helmet; but his nose and cheeks were so red that the Mazur, who was fond of joking, said:

  “I am afraid that the cold makes your face red!”

  Then the young man grew still more confused, and answered:

  “It must be that.”

  They moved forward and rode silently for some time; but after a while Jendrek of Kropiwnica asked:

  “What do they call you? I did not hear distinctly?”

  “Zbyszko of Bogdaniec.”

  “For heaven’s sake! The knight who made a vow to Jurandowna, had the same name.”

  “Do you think that I shall deny that I am he?” answered Zbyszko, proudly.

  “There is no reason for doing so. Gracious Lord, then you are that Zbyszko whom the girl covered with her veil! After the retinue returned from Krakow, the women of the court talked about nothing else, and many of them cried while listening to the story. Then you are he! Hej! how happy they will be to see you at the court; even the princess is very fond of you.”

  “May the Lord bless her, and you also for the good news. I suffered greatly when I heard that Danusia was married.”

  “She is not married! Although she will inherit Spychow, and there are many handsome youths at the court, yet not one of them looks into her eyes, because all respect your vow; then the princess would not permit it. Hej! there will be great joy. Sometimes they teased the girl! Some one would tell her: ‘Your knight will not come back!’ Then she would reply: ‘He will be back! He will be back!’ Sometimes they told her that you had married another; then she cried.”

  These words made Zbyszko feel very tender; he also felt angry because Danusia had been vexed; therefore he said:

  “I shall challenge those who said such things about me!”

  Jendrek of Kropiwnica began to laugh and said:

  “The women teased her! Will you challenge a woman? You cannot do anything with a sword against a distaff.”

  Zbyszko was pleased that he had met such a cheerful companion; he began to ask Jendrek about Danusia. He also inquired about the customs of the Mazowiecki court, about Prince Janusz, and about the princess. Finally he told what he had heard about the war during his journey, and how the people were making preparations for it, and were expecting it every day. He asked whether the people in the principalities of Mazowsze, thought it would soon come.

  The heir of Kropiwnica did not think that the war was near. The people said that it could not be avoided; but he had heard the prince himself say to Mikolaj of Dlugolas, that the Knights of the Cross were very peaceable now, and if the king only insisted, they would restore the province of Dobrzyn to Poland; or they would try to delay the whole affair, until they were well prepared,

  “The prince went to Malborg a short time ago,” said he, “where during the absence of the grand master, the grand marshal received him and entertained him with great hospitality; now there are some comthurs here, and other guests are coming.”

  Here he stopped for a while, and then added:

  “The people say that the Krzyzaks have a purpose in coming here and in going to Plock to the court of Prince Ziemowit. They would like to have the princes pledge themselves not to help the king but to aid them; or if they do not agree to help the Krzyzaks, that at least they will remain neutral; but the princes will not do that.”

  “God will not permit it. Would you stay home? Your princes belong to the kingdom of Poland!”

  “No, we would not stay home,” answered Jendrek of Kropiwnica.

  Zbyszko again glanced at the foreign knights, and at their peacocks’ tufts, and asked:

  “Are these knights going for that purpose?”

  “They are brothers of the Order and perhaps that is their motive. Who understands them?”

  “And that third one?”

  “He is going because he is inquisitive.”

  “He must be some famous knight.”

  “Bah! three heavily laden wagons follow
him, and he has nine men in his escort. I would like to fight with such a man!”

  “Can you not do it?”

  “Of course not! The prince commanded me to guard them. Not one hair shall fall from their heads until they reach Ciechanow.”

  “Suppose I challenge them? Perhaps they would desire to fight with me?”

  “Then you would be obliged to fight with me first, because I will not permit you to fight with them while I live.”

  Zbyszko looked at the young nobleman in a friendly way, and said:

  “You understand what knightly honor is. I shall not fight with you, because I am your friend; but in Ciechanow, God will help me to find some pretext for a challenge to the Germans.”

  “In Ciechanow you can do what you please. I am sure there will be tournaments; then you can fight, if the prince and the comthurs give permission.”

  “I have a board on which is written a challenge for anyone who will not affirm that Panna Danuta Jurandowna is the most virtuous and the most beautiful girl in the world; but everywhere the people shrugged their shoulders and laughed.”

  “Because it is a foreign custom; and speaking frankly, a stupid one which is not known in our country, except near the boundaries. That Lotaringer tried to pick a quarrel with some noblemen, asking them to praise some lady of his; but nobody could understand him, and I would not let them fight.”