Complete Works of Henryk Sienkiewicz

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

  “God grant me patience!”

  “Your Princely Majesty must also remember,” said Danveld, further, “that our wantons only wrong lay people who do not belong to the German race, but your men raise their hand against the German Order, and for this reason they offend our Saviour Himself.”

  “Listen!” said the prince. “Do not talk about God; you cannot deceive Him!”

  Then having placed his hands on the Krzyzak’s shoulders, he shook him so strongly, that he frightened him. He relented immediately and said, mildly:

  “If it be true that our guests attacked Jurand first and did not send away the soldiers, I will not blame him; but had Jurand really accepted the challenge?”

  Having said this, he looked at Sir de Fourcy, winking at him, to deny it; but the latter, not wishing to lie, answered:

  “He asked us to send our soldiers away, and to fight three against three.”

  “Are you sure of that?”

  “Upon my honor! Herr von Bergow and I agreed, but Meineger did not consent.”

  Here the prince interrupted:

  “Starosta from Szczytno! you know better than anybody else that Jurand would not miss a challenge.”

  Then he turned to all present and said:

  “If one of you will challenge Jurand to a fight on horseback or on foot, I give my permission. If he be taken prisoner or killed, then Herr von Bergow will be released without paying any ransom. Do not ask me for anything else, because I will not grant it.”

  After these words, there was a profound silence. Hugo von Danveld, Zygfried von Löve, Brother Rotgier and Brother Godfried, although brave, knew the dreadful lord of Spychow too well to dare to challenge him for life or death. Only a foreigner from a far distant country, like de Lorche or de Fourcy, would do it; but de Lorche was not present during the conversation, and Sir de Fourcy was still too frightened.

  “I have seen him once,” he muttered, “and I do not wish to see him any more.”

  Zygfried von Löve said:

  “It is forbidden the monks to fight in single combat, except by special permission from the grand master and the grand marshal; but I do not ask for permission for a combat, but for the release of von Bergow and the punishment by death of Jurand.”

  “You do not make the laws in this country.”

  “Our grand master will know how to administer justice.”

  “Your grand master has nothing to do with Mazowsze!”

  “The emperor and the whole German nation will help him.”

  “The king of Poland will help me, and he is more powerful than the German emperor.”

  “Does Your Highness wish for a war with the Order?”

  “If I wanted a war, I would not wait for you to come to Mazowsze, but would go toward you; you need not threaten me, because I am not afraid of you.”

  “What shall I say to the grand master?”

  “He has not asked you anything. Tell him what you please.”

  “Then we will avenge ourselves.”

  Thereupon the prince stretched forth his arm and began to shake his finger close to the Krzyzak’s face.

  “Keep quiet!” said he, angrily; “keep quiet! I gave you permission to challenge Jurand; but if you dare to invade this country with the army of the Order, then I will attack you, and you will stay here not as a guest but as a prisoner.”

  Evidently his patience was entirely exhausted, because he threw a cap violently on the table and left the room, slamming the door. The Knights of the Cross became pale and Sir de Fourcy looked at them askance.

  “What will happen now?” asked Brother Rotgier, who was the first to break the silence.

  Hugo von Danveld turned to Sir de Fourcy and menacing him with his fists, said:

  “Why did you tell him that you attacked Jurand?”

  “Because it is true!”

  “You should have lied.”

  “I came here to fight and not to lie.”

  “Well, you fought well, indeed!”

  “And you! did you not run away from Jurand of Spychow?”

  “Pax!” said von Löve. “This knight is a guest of the Order.”

  “It is immaterial what he said,” added Brother Godfried. “They would not punish Jurand without a trial, and in the court, the truth would come out.”

  “What will be done now?” repeated Brother Rotgier.

  There was a moment of silence; then the sturdy and virulent Zygfried von Löve spoke:

  “We must finish once for all with that bloody dog!” said he. “Herr von Bergow must be released from his fetters. We will gather the garrisons from Szczytno, Insburk and Lubowa; we will summon the Chelminsk nobility and attack Jurand. It is time to settle with him!”

  “We cannot do it without permission from the grand master.”

  “If we succeed, the grand master will be pleased!” said Brother Godfried.

  “But if we do not succeed? If the prince go against us?”

  “He will not do that if there is peace between him and the Order.”

  “There is peace, but we are going to violate it. Our garrisons will not be sufficient to fight against the Mazurs.”

  “Then the grand master will help us and there will be a war.”

  Danveld frowned again and became thoughtful.

  “No! no!” said he after a while. “If we be successful, the grand master will be pleased. Envoys will be sent to the prince, there will be negotiations and we will go scot-free. But in case of defeat, the Order will not intercede for us and will not declare war. Another grand master is necessary for that. The Polski king is behind the prince, and the grand master will not quarrel with him.”

  “But we have taken the Dobrzynska province; it is evident that we are not afraid of Krakow.”

  “There was some pretext — Opolczyk. We took it apparently in pledge, and then — —” Here he looked around and said quietly:

  “I heard in Marienburg, that if they threaten us with war, we will return the province.”

  “Ah!” said Brother Rotgier, “if we had Markward Salzbach with us, or Shomberg who killed Witold’s whelps, he would find some remedy against Jurand. Witold was the king’s viceroy and a grand duke! Notwithstanding that, Shomberg was not punished. He killed Witold’s children, and went scot-free! Verily, there is great lack among us of people who can find a remedy for everything.”

  Having heard this, Hugo von Danveld put his elbows on the table, leaned his head on his hands and plunged into deep thought. Then his eyes became bright, he wiped, according to his custom, his moist, thick lips with the upper part of his hand and said:

  “May the moment in which you mentioned, pious brother, the name of the valiant Shomberg be blessed.”

  “Why? Have you found a remedy?” asked Zygfried von Löve.

  “Speak quickly!” exclaimed Brother Godfried.

  “Listen,” said Hugo. “Jurand has a daughter here, his only child, whom he loves dearly.”

  “Yes, so he has. We know her. The princess Anna Danuta loves her also.”

  “Yes. Listen then: if you capture this girl, Jurand will give as a ransom for her, not only, Bergow, but all his prisoners, himself and Spychow!”

  “By Saint Bonifacius’ blood shed in Duchum!” exclaimed Brother Godfried; “it would be as you say!”

  Then they were silent, as if frightened by the boldness and the difficulties of the enterprise. But after a while Brother Rotgier turned toward Zygfried von Löve, and said:

  “Your judgment and experience are equal to your bravery: what do you think about this plan?”

  “I think that the matter is worthy of consideration.”

  “Because,” said Rotgier further, “the girl is a lady-in-waiting with the princess — the princess loves her as if she were her own daughter. Think, pious brother, what an uproar will arise.”

  But Hugo von Danveld began to laugh:

  “You said yourself, that Shomberg poisoned or strangled Witold’s whelps, and what happened to hi
m? They will raise an uproar about anything we do; but if we sent Jurand in chains to the grand master, then it is certain that we could expect reward rather than punishment.”

  “Yes,” said von Löve, “there is a good opportunity for an attack. The prince is going away and Anna Danuta will remain here alone with her court. However it is a serious matter to invade the prince’s house during the time of peace. The prince’s house is not Spychow. It will be the same thing that happened in Zlotorja! Again complaints against the Order will go to all kings and to the pope; again that cursed Jagiello will threaten us, and the grand master; you know him: he is glad to take hold of anything he can, but he does not wish for war with Jagiello. Yes! there will be a great uproar in all the provinces of Mazowsze and of Polska.”

  “In the meanwhile Jurand’s bones will whiten on a hook,” answered Brother Hugo. “Then we do not need to take his daughter from the prince’s mansion.”

  “But we cannot do it from Ciechanow either, because there, besides the noblemen, there are three hundred archers.”

  “No. But Jurand can become ill and send for his daughter. Then the princess would not prevent her going, and if the girl be lost on the road, who will accuse you or me and say to us: ‘You captured her!’”

  “Bah!” answered von Löve, impatiently. “You must first make Jurand sick and then make him summon the girl.”

  At this Hugo smiled triumphantly and answered:

  “I have a goldsmith, who having been driven from Marienburg for theft, settled in Szczytno and who is able to make a seal; I also have people, who although our bondmen, came from the Mazurski country. Do you understand me yet?”

  “I understand,” shouted Brother Godfried.

  And Rotgier raised his hands and said:

  “May God bless you, pious brother, because neither Markward Salzbach, nor Shomberg could find better means.”

  Then he half closed his eyes, as if he saw something afar.

  “I see Jurand,” said he, “with a rope around his neck, standing at the Gdansk gate in Marienburg and our knechts are kicking him.”

  “And the girl will become a servant of the Order,” said Hugo.

  Having heard this, von Löve turned his severe eyes on Danveld; but the latter again rubbed his lips with the upper part of his hand and said:

  “And now to Szczytno as soon as we can!”

  Before starting on the journey to Szczytno, the four brothers of the Order and de Fourcy went to bid the prince and the princess adieu. It was not a very friendly farewell; but the prince, not wishing to act contrary to the old Polish custom which did not permit the guests to depart with empty hands, made each brother a present of some beautiful marten-fur and of one grzywna of silver; they received the presents with great pleasure, assuring the prince that being brothers of an order, and having made a solemn promise to live in poverty, they would not retain the money for themselves, but would distribute it among the poor, whom they would recommend to pray for the prince’s health, fame and future salvation.

  The Mazurs laughed in their sleeves at such an assurance, because they knew very well how rapacious the Order was, and still better what liars the Knights of the Cross were.

  It was a popular saying in Mazowsze: “As the skunk smells, so the Krzyzak lies.” The prince waved his hand to such thanks, and after they went out he said that by the intervention of the Knights of the Cross, one would go to heaven as swiftly as the craw-fish walks.

  But before that, while taking leave of the princess, at the moment that Zygfried von Löve kissed her hand, Hugo von Danveld approached Danusia, put his hand on her head and caressing her, said:

  “Our commandment is to return good for evil, and even to love our enemy; therefore I will send a sister of the Order here, and she will bring you the healing balm.”

  “How can I thank you for it?” answered Danusia.

  “Be a friend of the Order and of the monks.”

  De Fourcy noticed this conversation, and in the meantime he was struck by the beauty of the young girl; therefore as they traveled toward Szczytno, he asked:

  “Who is that beautiful lady of the court with whom you were talking while taking leave of the princess?”

  “Jurand’s daughter!” answered the Krzyzak.

  Sir de Fourcy was surprised.

  “The same whom you propose to capture?”

  “Yes. And when we capture her, Jurand is ours.”

  “Evidently everything is not bad that comes from Jurand. It will be worth while to guard such a prisoner.”

  “Do you think it will be easier to fight with her than with Jurand?”

  “I mean that I think the same as you do. The father is a foe of the Order; but you spoke words as sweet as honey to the daughter, and besides you promised to send her the balm.”

  Evidently Hugo von Danveld felt the need of justification before Zygfried von Löve who, although not better than the others, observed the austere laws of the Order, and very often scolded the other brothers.

  “I promised her the balm,” said Hugo, “for that young knight, who was injured by the bison and to whom she is betrothed. If they make an outcry when the girl is captured, then we will tell them that we did not wish to harm her any, and the best proof of it will be that on account of Christian mercy we sent her some medicine.”

  “Very well,” said von Löve. “Only we must send somebody whom we can trust.”

  “I will send a pious woman, entirely faithful to the Order. I will command her to look and to listen. When our people, apparently sent by Jurand, arrive, they will find the road already prepared.”

  “It will be difficult to get such people.”

  “No! In our province the people speak the same language. There are in our city, bah! even among the knechts of the garrison, some men who left Mazowsze because they were pursued by the law; it is true they are thieves and robbers; but they do not fear anybody and they are ready to do anything. To those men, I will promise, in case they succeed, a large reward; if they fail, a rope.”

  “Bah! Suppose they betray us?”

  “They will not betray us, because in Mazowsze every one of them deserves to be hanged. Only we must give them decent clothes so that they will be taken for Jurand’s servants; and we must get the principal thing: a letter with Jurand’s seal.”

  “We must foresee everything,” said Brother Rotgier. “It is probable that Jurand will go to see the prince, and justify himself on account of the last war. If he is in Ciechanow, he will go to see his daughter. It may happen that our men when they go to capture Jurandowna, will come in contact with Jurand himself.”

  “The men whom I am going to choose are sharp. They will know that they will be hanged if they come in contact with Jurand. It will be to their own interest not to meet him.”

  “But they may be captured.”

  “Then we will deny them and the letter. Who can prove that we sent them? And then if there be no outrage, there will be no outcry, and it will not harm the Order, if Mazury cut several scoundrels into pieces.”

  Brother Godfried, the youngest of the monks, said:

  “I do not understand your policy, nor your fear that it may be known that the girl was carried off by our command. Because if we have her in our possession, we will be obliged to send some one to Jurand to tell him: ‘Your daughter is with us; if you wish her to be set at liberty, give von Bergow and yourself in exchange for her.’ You cannot do otherwise, and then it will be known that we ordered the girl to be carried off.”

  “That is true!” said Sir de Fourcy, who did not like the whole affair. “Why should we hide that which must come out?”

  But Hugo von Danveld began to laugh, and turning to Brother Godfried, asked:

  “How long have you worn the white mantle?”

  “It will be six years the first week after the day of the Holy Trinity.”

  “When you have worn it six years longer, you will understand the affairs of the Order better. Jurand knows us better than
you do. We will tell him: ‘Your daughter is watched by Brother Shomberg; if you say a word, remember what happened to Witold’s children!’”

  “And then?”

  “Then von Bergow will be free and the Order also will be free from Jurand.”

  “No!” exclaimed Brother Rotgier; “everything is planned so cleverly that God ought to bless our enterprise.”

  “God blesses all deeds whose purpose is the good of the Order,” said the gloomy Zygfried von Löve.

  Then they rode silently, and before them went their retinue, to open the way, because the road was covered with a heavy snow, which had fallen during the night. The day was cloudy, but warm; therefore the horses were steaming. From the forest flocks of crows were flying toward the villages, filling the air with their gloomy cawing.

  Sir de Fourcy remained a little bit behind the Knights of the Cross and rode along in deep thought. He had been the guest of the Order for several years, and had participated in the expeditions against the Zmudz, where he distinguished himself by great bravery. Everywhere he had been received as the Knights of the Cross knew how to receive the knights from remote countries; he became attached to them very strongly, and not being rich, he planned to join their ranks. In the meanwhile he either lived in Marienburg, or visited the commanderies, searching in his travels for distractions and adventures. Having just arrived at Lubowa with the rich von Bergow, and having heard about Jnrand, he desired very much to fight with the man who was regarded with general dread. The arrival of Meineger, who was always victorious, precipitated the expedition. The comthur of Lubowa furnished the men for it, but in the meanwhile he told them so much not only about Jurand’s cruelty, but also about his cunning and treachery, that when Juvand asked them to send away the soldiers, they refused to do it, fearing that if they did, he would surround and exterminate them or else capture and put them into the Spychowski dungeons. Then Jurand thinking that they cared less about a knightly fight than about plunder, attacked them and defeated them. De Fourcy saw von Bergow overthrown with his horse; he saw Meineger with a piece of a spear in his body, and he saw the men asking in vain for mercy. He escaped with great difficulty, and wandered for several days in the forests, where he would have died of hunger or been destroyed by wild beasts, if by chance he had not reached Ciechanow, where he found Brothers Godfried and Rotgier. From the expedition he emerged with a feeling of humiliation and shame, and with a desire for vengeance and a longing after Bergow, who was his dear friend. Therefore he joined with his whole soul in the complaint of the Knights of the Cross, when they asked for the punishment of the Polish knight and the freedom of his unhappy companion. When their complaint had no effect whatever, in the first moment he was ready to approve of any plan for vengeance against Jurand. But now some scruples were aroused in him. Listening to the conversation of the monks, and especially to what Hugo von Danveld said, he could not refrain from astonishment. It is true, that having become well acquainted during the past few years with the Knights of the Cross, he knew that they were not what they were represented to be in Germany and in the West. In Marienburg, he knew, however, a few honest and upright knights who often complained of the corruption of the brothers, of their lasciviousness and lack of discipline; de Fourcy felt that they were right, but being himself dissolute and lacking in discipline, he did not criticise them for those faults, especially because all knights of the Order redeemed them with bravery. He had seen them at Wilno, fighting breast to breast with the Polish knights; at the taking of castles, defended with superhuman stubbornness by Polish garrisons; he had seen them perishing under the blows of axes and swords, in general assaults or in single combats. They were merciless and cruel toward the Litwa, but at the same time, they were as brave as lions.