CHAPTER I
THE HALL OF THE GUARD
Loud rang the laughter in the hall of the men-at-arms at CastleKernsberg. There had come an embassy from the hereditary Princess ofPlassenburg, recently established upon the throne of her ancestors, tothe Duchess Joan of Hohenstein, ruler of that cluster of hill stateletswhich is called collectively Masurenland, and which includes, besidesHohenstein the original Eagle's Eyrie, Kernsberg also, and Marienfield.
Above, in the hall of audience, the ambassador, one Leopold vonDessauer, a great lord and most learned councillor of state, sat alonewith the young Duchess. They were eating of the baked meats and drinkingthe good Rhenish up there. But, after all, it was much merrier downbelow with Werner von Orseln, Alt Pikker, Peter Balta, and John ofThorn, though what they ate was mostly but plain ox-flesh, and theirdrink the strong ale native to the hill lands, which is called Wendishmead.
"Get you down, Captains Jorian and Boris," the young Duchess hadcommanded, looking very handsome and haughty in the pride of her twentyyears, her eight strong castles, and her two thousand men ready to riseat her word; "down to the hall of guard, where my officers send roundthe wassail. If they do not treat you well, e'en come up and tell it tome."
"Good!" responded the two soldiers of the Princess of Plassenburg,turning them about as if they had been hinged on the same stick, andstarting forward with precisely the same stiff hitch from the halt, theymade for the door.
"But stay," Joan of Hohenstein had said, ere they reached it, "here area couple of rings. My father left me one or two such. Fit them upon yourfingers, and when you return give them to the maidens of your choice. Isthere by chance such an one, Captain Jorian, left behind you atPlassenburg?"
"Aye, madam," said Jorian, directing his left eye, as he stood atattention, a little slantwise in the direction of his companion.
"What is her name?"
"Gretchen is her name," quoth the soldier.
"And yours, Captain Boris?"
The second automaton, a little slower of tongue than his companion,hesitated a moment.
"Speak up," said his comrade, in an undergrowl; "say 'Katrin.'"
"Katrin!" thundered Captain Boris, with bluff apparent honesty.
"It is well," said the Duchess Joan; "I think no less of a sturdysoldier for being somewhat shamefaced as to the name of his sweetheart.Here is a ring apiece which will not shame your maidens in farPlassenburg, as you walk with them under the lime-trees, or buy ribbonsfor them in the booths that cluster about the Minster walls."
The donor looked at the rings again. She espied the letters of a posyupon them.
"Ha!" she cried, "Captain Boris, what said you was the name of yourbetrothed?"
"Good Lord!" muttered Boris lowly to himself, "did I not tell the womaneven now?--Gretchen!"
"Hut, you fool!" Jorian's undergrowl came to his ear, "Katrin--notGretchen; Gretchen is mine."
"I mean Katrin, my Lady Duchess," said Boris, putting a bold face on themistake.
The young mistress of the castle smiled. "Thou art a strange lover," shesaid, "thus to forget the name of thy mistress. But here is a ring witha K writ large upon it, which will serve for thy Katherina. And here,Captain Jorian, is one with a G scrolled in Gothic, which thou wiltdoubtless place with pride upon the finger of Mistress Gretchen amongthe rose gardens of Plassenburg."
"Good!" said Jorian and Boris, making their bows together; "we thankyour most gracious highness."
"Back out, you hulking brute!" the undertone came again from Jorian;"she will be asking us for their surnames if we bide a moment longer.Now then, we are safe through the door; right about, Boris, and thankHeaven she had not time for another question, or we were men undone!"
And with their rings upon their little fingers the two burly captainswent down the narrow stair of Castle Kernsberg, nudging each otherjovially in the dark places as if they had again been men-at-arms and nocaptains, as in the old days before the death of Karl the Usurper andthe coming back of the legitimate Princess Helene into her rights.
Being arrived at the hall beneath they soon found themselves the centreof a hospitable circle. Gruff, bearded Wendish men were these officersof the young Duchess; not a butterfly youngling or a courtly carpetknight among them, but men tanned like shipmen of the Baltic, soldiersmostly who had served under her father Henry, foraging upon occasion asfar as the Mark in one direction and into Bor-Russia in the other, mengrounded and compacted after the hearts of Jorian and Boris.
It was small wonder that amid such congenial society the ex-men-at-armsfound themselves presently very much at home. Scarcely were they seatedwhen Jorian began to brag of the gift the Duchess had given him for themaiden of his troth.
"And Boris here, that hulking cobold, that Hans Klapper upon thehousetops, had well-nigh spoiled the jest; for when her ladyship askedhim a second time in her sweet voice for the name of his 'betrothed,'he must needs lay his tongue to 'Gretchen,' instead of 'Katrin,' as hehad done at the first!"
Then all suddenly the bearded, burly officers of the Duchess Joan lookedat each other with a little scared expression on their faces, throughwhich gradually glimmered up a certain grim amusement. Werner vonOrseln, the eldest and gravest of all, glanced round the full circle ofhis mess. Then he looked back at the two captains of the embassy guardof Plassenburg with a pitying glance.
"And you lied about your sweethearts to the Duchess Joan?" he said.
"Ha, ha! Yes! I trow yes," quoth Jorian jovially. "Wine may be dear, butthis ring will pay the sweets of many a night!"
"Ha, ha! It will, will it?" said Werner, the chief captain, grimly.
"Aye, truly," echoed Boris, the mead beginning to work nuttily under hissteel cap, "when we melt this--ha, ha!--Katrin's jewel, we'll quaff manya beaker. The Rhenish shall flow-ow-ow! And Peg and Moll and Elisabetshall be there--yes, and many a good fellow-ow-ow----"
"Shut the door!" quoth Werner, the chief captain, at this point. "Sitdown, gentlemen!"
But Jorian and Boris were not to be so easily turned aside.
"Call in the ale-drawer--the tapster, the pottler, the over-cellarer,whatever you call him. For we would have more of his vintage. Why, isthis a night of jewels, and shall we not melt them? We may chance to getanother for a second mouthful of lies to-morrow morning. A good duchessas ever was--a soft princess, a princess most gullible is this of yours,gentlemen of the Eagle's Nest, kerns of Kernsberg!"
"Sit down," said Werner yet more gravely. "Captains Jorian and Boris,you do not seem to know that you are no longer in Plassenburg. The broombush does not keep the cow betwixt Kernsberg and Hohenstein. Here are noTables of Karl the Miller's Son to hamper our liege mistress. Do youknow that you have lied to her and made a jest of it?"
"Aye," cried Jorian, holding his ring high; "a sweet, easy maid, this ofyours, as ever was cozened. An easy service yours must be. Lord! I couldfeather my nest well inside a year--one short year with such a mistresswould do the business. Why, she will believe anything!"
"So," said Werner von Orseln grimly, "you think so, do you, CaptainsBoris and Jorian, of the embassy staff? Well, listen!"
He spoke very slowly, leaning towards them and punctuating his meaningupon the palm of his left hand with the fingers of his right. "If I,Werner of Orseln, were now to walk upstairs, and in so many words tellmy lady, 'the sweet, easy princess,' as you name her, Joan of the SwordHand, as we are proud----"
"_Joan of the Sword Hand! Hoch!_"
The men-at-arms at the lower table, the bearded captains at the highboard, the very page boys lounging and scuffling in the niches, rose totheir feet at the name, pronounced in a voice of thunder-pride by ChiefCaptain Werner.
"Joan of the Sword Hand! _Hoch!_ Hent yourselves up, Wends! Up,Plassenburg! Joan of the Sword Hand! Our Lady Joan! _Hoch!_ And threetimes _hoch_!"
The hurrahs ran round the oak-panelled hall. Jorian and Boris looked ateach other with surprise, but they were stout fellows, and took matters,even when most serious, pretty much
as they came.
"I thank you, gentlemen, on behalf of my lady, in whose name I commandhere," said Werner, bowing ceremoniously to all around, while the otherssettled themselves to listen. "Now, worthy soldiers of Plassenburg," hewent on, "be it known to you that if (to suppose a case which will nothappen) I were to tell our Lady Joan what you have confessed to us hereand boasted of--that you lied and double lied to her--I lay my life andthe lives of these good fellows that the pair of you would be aswingfrom the corner gallery of the Lion's Tower in something under fiveminutes."
"Aye, and a good deed it were, too!" chorussed the round table of theguard hall. "Heaven send it, the jackanapes! To rail at our Duchess!"
Jorian rose to his feet. "Up, Boris!" he cried; "no Bor-Russian, no kernof Hohenstein that ever lived, shall overcrow a captain of the armies ofPlassenburg and a soldier of the Princess Helene--Heaven bless her! Takeyour ring in your hand, Boris, for we will go up straightway, you and I.And we will tell the Lady Duchess Joan that, having no sweetheart oflegal standing, and no desire for any, we choused her into the beliefthat we would bestow her rings upon our betrothed in the rose-gardens ofPlassenburg. Then will we see if indeed we shall be aswing in fiveminutes. Ready, Boris?"
"Aye, thrice ready, Jorian!"
"About, then! Quick march!"
A great noise of clapping rose all round the hall as the two stoutsoldiers set themselves to march up the staircase by which they had justdescended.
"Stand to the doors!" cried Werner, the chief captain; "do not let thempass. Up and drink a deep cup to them, rather! To Captains Jorian andBoris of Plassenburg, brave fellows both! Charge your tankards. The meadof Wendishland shall not run dry. Fill them to the brim. A caraway seedin each for health's sake. There! Now to the honour and long lives ofour guests. Jorian and Boris--_hoch_!"
"_Jorian and Boris--hoch!_"
The toast was drunk amid multitudinous shoutings and handshakings. Thetwo men had stopped, perforce, for the doors were in the hands of thesoldiers of the guard, and the pike points clustered thick in theirpath. They turned now in the direction of the high table from which theyhad risen.
"Deal you so with your guests who come on embassy?" said Jorian,smiling. "First you threaten them with hanging, and then you would makethem drunk with mead as long in the head as the devil of Trier thatdeceived the Archbishop-Elector and gat the holy coat for afoot-warmer!"
"Sit down, gentlemen, and I also will sit. Now, hearken well," saidWerner; "these honest fellows of mine will bear me out that I lie not.You have done bravely and spoken up like good men taken in a fault. Butwe will not permit you to go to your deaths. For our Lady Joan--Godbless her!--would not take a false word from any--no, not if it were onTwelfth Night or after a Christmas merry-making. She would not forgiveit from your old Longbeard upstairs, whose business it is--that is, ifshe found it out. 'To the gallows!' she would say, and we--why then weshould sorrow for having to hasten the stretching of two good men. Butwhat would you, gentlemen? We are her servants and we should be obligedto do her will. Keep your rings, lads, and keep also your wits about youwhen the Duchess questions you again. Nay, when you return toPlassenburg, be wise, seek out a Gretchen and a Katrin and bestow therings upon them--that is, if ever you mean again to stand within thedanger of Joan of the Sword Hand in this her castle of Kernsberg."
"Gretchens are none so scarce in Plassenburg," muttered Jorian. "I thinkwe can satisfy a pair of them--but at a cheaper price than a ring ofrubies set in gold!"
Joan of the Sword Hand Page 2