And Zygfried looked at those present with a strange glance, and said: “God have mercy upon the soul of our brothers Danveld and Godfried!”
They again understood that he implored God’s mercy upon their souls, because, at the mention of sulphur, he thought of hell; therefore a chill ran through their bones and all at once replied: “Amen! amen! amen!” After a moment the howling of the wind and the rattling of the window-frames were heard again.
“Where are the bodies of the count and Brother Godfried?” inquired the old man.
“In the chapel: the priests are chanting the litany over them.”
“Are they already in coffins?”
“In coffins, only the count’s head is covered, because his skull and face are crushed.”
“Where are the other corpses, and where are the wounded?”
“The corpses are in the snow so as to stiffen whilst the coffins are being made, and the wounded are being attended to in the hospital.”
Zygfried again ran his hands over his head.
“And one man did that!… God, have the Order under Thy care, when it comes to a great war with this wolfish race!”
Upon that Rotgier turned up his eyes, as if recollecting something, and said: “I heard in Wilno, how the bailiff of Samboz spoke to his brother the master: ‘If you do not make a great war and get rid of them, so that even their name shall not remain, then woe to us and our nation.’”
“May God give such a war and a meeting with them!” said one of the noble novices.
Zygfried looked at him for some time, as if he wanted to say: “You could have met one of them to-day,” but seeing the small and youthful figure of the novice, and perhaps remembering that he himself, although famous for his courage, did not care to expose himself to a sure destruction, refrained and inquired:
“Who saw Jurand?”
“I,” replied von Bergow.
“Is he alive?”
“Yes, he lies in the same net in which we entrapped him. When he awoke the servants wanted to kill him, but the chaplain would not allow it.”
“He cannot be executed. He is too great a man among his people, and there would be a terrible clamor,” replied Zygfried. “It will be also impossible to hide what has happened, because there were too many witnesses.”
“What then are we to say and do?” inquired Rotgier.
Zygfried meditated, and finally said:
“You, noble Count von Bergow go to Malborg to the master. You were groaning in Jurand’s slavery, and are now a guest of the Order; therefore as such, and because you need not necessarily speak in favor of the monks, they will rather believe you. Tell, then, what you saw, that Danveld, having recovered from a band of rogues a certain girl and thinking her to be Jurand’s daughter, informed the latter, who also came to Szczytno, and what happened further you know yourself.”
“Pardon me, pious count,” said von Bergow. “I suffered great hardships as a slave in Spychow, and as your guest, I would gladly testify for you; but tell me, for the sake of quieting my soul, whether there was not a real daughter of Jurand’s in Szczytno, and whether it was not Danveld’s treason that drove her father to madness?”
Zygfried von Löve hesitated for a moment with his answer; in his nature lay deep hatred toward the Polish nation, and barbarity in which he exceeded even Danveld, and rapacity, and, when the Order was in question, pride and avarice, but there was no falsehood. It was the greatest bitterness and grief of his life, that lately, through insubordination and riot, the affairs of the Order had turned in such a manner that falsehood had become one of the most general and unavoidable factors of the life of the Order. Therefore von Bergow’s inquiry touched the most painful string of his soul, and, after a long silence, he said:
“Danveld stands before God, and God will judge him, while you, duke, should they ask you for conjectures, answer what you please; should they again ask you about what you saw, then say that before we coiled a wild man in a net you saw nine corpses, besides the wounded, on this floor, and among them the bodies of Danveld, Brother Godfried, von Bracht and Hugues, and two noble youths…. God, give them eternal peace. Amen!”
“Amen! Amen!” again repeated the novices.
“And say also,” added Zygfried, “that although Danveld wished to subdue the foe of the Order, yet nobody here raised the first weapon against Jurand.”
“I shall say only what my eyes saw,” replied von Bergow.
“Be in the chapel before midnight; we shall also go there to pray for the souls of the dead,” answered Zygfried.
He then extended his hand to him as a sign of gratitude and farewell; he wished to remain for a further consultation alone with Brother Rotgier, whom he loved and had great confidence in. After the withdrawal of von Bergow, he also dismissed the two novices, under the pretence that they might watch the work of the coffins for the common servants killed by Jurand, and after the doors had closed behind them he turned with animation to Rotgier, and said:
“Listen to what I am going to say: there is only one remedy: that no living soul should ever find out that the real daughter of Jurand was with us.”
“It will not be difficult,” replied Rotgier, “because nobody knew that she was here except Danveld, Godfried, we two, and those servants of the Order who watched her. Danveld ordered the people who brought her here to be made intoxicated and hanged. There were some among the garrison who suspected something, but that affair confused them, and they do not know now themselves whether an error happened on our part, or whether some wizard really exchanged Jurand’s daughter.”
“This is good,” said Zygfried.
“I have been thinking again, noble count, whether, since Danveld lives no longer, we should not cast all the guilt upon him….”
“And so admit before the whole world that we, in a time of peace and concord with the prince of Mazowsze, ravished from his court the pupil of the princess and her beloved courtlady? No, for God’s sake! this cannot be!… We were seen at the court together with Danveld; and the grand master, his relative, knows that we always undertook everything together…. If we accuse Danveld, he may desire to avenge his memory….”
“Let us consult on that,” said Rotgier. “Let us consult and find good advice, because otherwise woe to us! If we return Jurand’s daughter, then she will say herself that we did not capture her from robbers, but that the people who caught her carried her directly to Szczytno.”
“That is so.”
“And God is witness that I do not care for the responsibility alone. The prince will complain to the Polish king, and their delegates will not fail to clamor at all courts against our outrages, our treason, and our crime. God alone knows how much loss the Order may suffer from it. The master himself, if he knew the truth, ought to order that girl to be hidden.”
“And even if so, when that girl is lost, will they not accuse us?” inquired Rotgier.
“No! Brother Danveld was a shrewd man. Do you remember, that he imposed the condition on Jurand, that he should not only appear in Szczytno personally, but also previously proclaim and write to the prince, that he is going to ransom his daughter from the robbers, and that he knows that she is not with us.”
“True! but in that case how shall we justify what happened in Szczytno?”
“We shall say that knowing that Jurand was looking for his child, and having captured some girl from the robbers and not being able to tell who she was, we informed Jurand, thinking that this might possibly be his daughter; on his arrival he fell into a fit at the sight of her, and, being possessed with the devil, shed so much innocent blood that more than one battle does not cost so much.”
“That is true,” replied Rotgier, “wisdom and the experience of age speak through you. The bad deeds of Danveld, even if we should throw the guilt on him, would always go to the account of the Order, therefore, to the account of all of us, the assembly and the master himself; so again our innocence will become apparent, and all will fall upon Jurand,
the iniquity of the Poles and their connection with infernal powers….”
“And then whoever wishes may judge us; the Pope, or the Roman Emperor!”
“Yes!” Then followed a moment of silence, after which Brother Rotgier questioned:
“What shall we do then with Jurand’s daughter?”
“Let us consult.”
“Give her to me.”
And Zygfried looked at him and replied:
“No I Listen, young brother! When the Order is in question, do not trust a man, woman nor even your own self. Danveld was reached by God’s hand, because he not only wished to revenge the wrongs of the Order, but also to satisfy his own desires.”
“You misjudge me!” said Rotgier.
“Do not trust yourself,” interrupted Zygfried, “because your body and soul will become effeminate, and the knee of that hard race will some day bear heavily upon your breast, so that you will not be able to arise any more.” And he the third time rested his gloomy head on his hand, but he apparently conversed with his own conscience only, and thought of himself only, because he said after a while:
“Much human blood, much pain, many tears weigh heavily on me also … moreover I did not hesitate to seek other means, when the Order was in question, and when I saw I should not succeed by mere force; but when I stand before the Almighty, I shall tell Him: ‘I did that for the Order, and for myself — what I chose.’”
And having said this, he put his hands to his breast and opened a dark cloth garment, beneath which appealed a sackcloth. He then pressed his temples with his hands, raised his head and eyes, and exclaimed:
“Give up pleasures and profligacy, harden your bodies and hearts, because even now I see the whiteness of the eagle’s feathers in the air and its claws reddened with Teutonic blood!…”
Further speech was interrupted by such a terrible knock of the gate that one window above the gallery opened with a crash, and the entire hall was filled with a howling and whistling of the storm and with snowflakes.
“In the name of God, His Son and the Holy Ghost! this is a bad night,” remarked the old Teuton.
“A night of unclean powers,” answered Rotgier.
“Are there priests with Danveld’s body?”
“Yes…. He departed without absolution…. God have mercy upon him!”
And both ceased speaking. Rotgier presently called some boys, and ordered them to shut the window and light the torches, and after they had gone away, he again inquired:
“What will you do with Jurand’s daughter? Will you take her away from here to Insburk?”
“I shall take her to Insburk and do with her what the good of the Order demands.”
“What am I to do then?”
“Have you courage in your heart?”
“What have I done to make you doubt it?”
“I doubt not because I know you and love you as my own son for your courage. Go then to the court of the prince of Mazowsze and narrate everything that has happened here, according to our arrangement.”
“Can I expose myself to certain destruction?”
“You ought, if your destruction will bring glory to the Cross and Order. But no! Destruction does not await you. They do no harm to a guest: unless somebody should challenge you, as that young knight did who challenged us all … he, or somebody else, but that is not terrible….”
“May God grant it! they can seize me though and cast me under ground.”
“They will not do that. Remember that there is Jurand’s letter to the prince, and besides that you will go to accuse Jurand. Narrate faithfully what he did in Szczytno, and they must believe you…. We were even the first to inform him that there was a certain girl; we were the first to invite him to come to see her, and he came, went mad, killed the count and slew our people. Thus you will speak, and what can they say to you? Danveld’s death will certainly resound throughout the whole Mazowsze. On that account they will fail to bring charges. They will actually look for Jurand’s daughter, but, since Jurand himself wrote that she is not here, no suspicion will fall upon us. It is necessary to face them boldly and close their mouths, because they will also think that if we were guilty, none of us would dare to go there.”
“True! I will set out on the journey immediately after Danveld’s funeral.”
“May God bless you, my dear son! If you do all properly, they not only will not detain you, but they will have to disavow Jurand, so that we may not be able to say: ‘Look how they treat us!’”
“And so we must sue at all courts.”
“The grand master will attend to that for the benefit of the Order, besides being Danveld’s relative.”
“But if that devil of Spychow should survive and regain his liberty!…”
A dark look came into Zygfried’s eyes and he replied slowly and emphatically:
“Even if he should regain his liberty, he will never utter a word of accusation against the Order.”
He then commenced again to instruct Rotgier, what to say and demand at the court in Mazowsze.
CHAPTER II.
The rumor of the occurrence in Szczytno arrived in Warsaw however before Brother Rotgier, and there excited amazement and concern. Neither the king himself, nor anybody else at the court, could understand what had happened. Shortly before, just when Mikolaj of Dlugolas was starting for Malborg with the prince’s letter, in which he bitterly complained of the capture of Danusia by turbulent border counts and almost threateningly demanded her instant restoration, a letter had arrived from the owner of Spychow stating that his daughter was not captured by the Teutons, but by ordinary border bandits, and that she would be soon released for a ransom. On that account the messenger did not leave; nobody ever dreamed of the Teutons extorting such a letter from Jurand by the threat of his daughter’s death. It was difficult to understand what had happened, because the border chiefs, who were subjects of the prince as well as of the Order, attacked one another in the summer, but not in the winter when the snows betrayed their trail. They also usually attacked merchants, or perpetrated robberies in the villages, capturing people and seizing their herds, but to dare to attack the prince himself and to capture his protégée, who was at the same time the daughter of a powerful and universally feared knight, this seemed entirely to exceed human belief. This, as well as other doubts, was answered by Jurand’s letter under his own seal, brought this time by a man who was known to come from Spychow; under such circumstances all suspicions became impossible; the prince only became more enraged than he had ever been seen before, and he ordered a pursuit of the ravishers throughout the border of his principality, at the same time ordering the prince of Plock to do the same and not fail to punish the insolent fellows.
Just then arrived the news of what had happened at Szczytno.
And as it passed from mouth to mouth, it was multiplied tenfold. It was said that Jurand, having arrived all alone in the castle, ran in through the open gate and there committed such slaughter that the garrison was so terrified that it had to send for help to the neighboring castles, to summon the superior knighthood and armed foot-soldiers, who only after a two days’ siege succeeded in reentering the castle and there slaying Jurand as well as his associates. It was also said that those forces would probably cross the border, and that a great war would undoubtedly begin. The prince, who knew of how great consequence it was to the grand master in case of war with the Polish king for the powers of both principalities of Mazowsze to remain neutral, did not believe these stories, because it was no secret to him, that should the Teutons declare war on him or the principality of Plock, no human power could keep the Poles back; the master therefore dreaded that war. He knew that it must come, but he wished to postpone it, firstly, because he was of a peaceful disposition, and secondly, because, in order to meet Jagiello’s power, it was necessary to gather a strength which the Order until now had never yet possessed, and at the same time to secure the assistance of the princes and knighthood, not only in Germany, but also i
n the entire West.
The prince, therefore, did not fear the war, but he wished to know what had happened, what he really was to think of the occurrence in Szczytno, of the disappearance of Danusia, and all those stories which arrived from the border; he was also glad, although he hated the Teutons, when on a certain evening the captain of the archers informed him that a knight of the Order had arrived and begged for an audience.
He received him proudly, nevertheless, and although he recognized him instantly as one of the brethren who were in the Forest Court, he pretended not to recollect him and inquired who he was, whence he came, and what caused his arrival in Warsaw.
“I am Brother Rotgier,” replied the Teuton, “and a short time ago I had the honor to bow before your Highness.”
“Why then, being a brother, do you not wear the insignia of the Order?”
The knight commenced to explain that he did not wear a white cloak, because by so doing he would be undoubtedly captured or killed by the knighthood of Mazowsze: throughout the whole world, in all kingdoms and principalities, the sign of the cross on the cloak is a protection and gains human good-will and hospitality, and only in the principality of Mazowsze does the cross expose the man who wears it to certain death.
But the prince interrupted him angrily:
“Not the cross,” he said, “because we also kiss it, but your vices and if they receive you better elsewhere it is, because they do not know you so well.”
Then, seeing that the knight was greatly troubled at these words, he inquired: “Were you in Szczytno, do you know what happened there?”
“I was in Szczytno and know what happened there,” replied Rotgier, “and I came here not as any one’s messenger, but only because the experienced and pious count of Insburk told me: ‘Our master loves the pious prince and trusts in his justice, therefore while I hasten to Malborg, you go to Mazowsze and state our grievance, our disgrace, our misery. The just lord will surely not praise a violator of peace and a cruel aggressor, who has shed so much Christian blood, as though he were not Christ’s servant but Satan’s.’” And then he commenced to narrate everything that had occurred in Szczytno: How Jurand, who had been summoned by them to see whether the girl whom they had taken away from the robbers was not his daughter, instead of repaying that with thankfulness, had fallen into a fit; how he had killed Danveld, Brother Godfried, the Englishmen Hugues, von Bracht and two noble warriors, not counting the servants; how they, remembering God’s commandment and not wishing to kill, had finally been compelled to coil the terrible man in a net, who had then turned his sword against himself and wounded himself terribly; how lastly, not only in the castle but also in the tower, there were people, who, in the midst of a wintry gale during the night after the fight, had heard terrible laughter and voices in the air calling: “Our Jurand! Wrongdoer of the cross! Shedder of innocent blood! Our Jurand!”
Complete Works of Henryk Sienkiewicz Page 525