Joan of the Sword Hand
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CHAPTER XIX
JOAN STANDS WITHIN HER DANGER
So soon as Werner von Orseln returned to Castle Kernsberg with news ofthe forcing of the Alla and the overwhelming numbers of the Muscovitehordes, the sad-eyed Duchess of Hohenstein became once more Joan of theSword Hand.
Hitherto she had doubted and feared. But now the thought of Prince Waspand his Muscovite savages steadied her, and she was here and there, inevery bastion of the Castle, looking especially to the gates whichcommanded the roads to Courtland and Plassenburg.
Her one thought was, "Will _he_ be here?"
And again she saw the knight of the white plume storm through the listsof Courtland, and the enemy go down before him. Ah, if only----!
"Captain Boris was telling a story." [_Page 127_]]
The invading army must have numbered thirty thousand, at least. Therewere, all told, about two thousand spears in Kernsberg. Von Orseln,indeed, could easily have raised more. Nay, they would have come in ofthemselves by hundreds to fight for their Duchess, but the little hilltown could not feed more. Yet Joan was not discouraged. She joked withPeter Balta upon the louts of Courtlanders taking the Castle which Henrythe Lion had fortified. The Courtlanders, indeed! Had not Duke Casimirassaulted Kernsberg in vain, and even the great Margraf Georgethreatened it? Yet still it remained a virgin fortress, looking out overthe fertile and populous plain. But now what were left of theshepherds had fled to the deep-bosomed mountains with their flocks. Thecattle were hidden in the thickest woods; only the white farm-housesremained tenantless, silently waiting the coming of the spoiler. And,stripped for combat, Castle Kernsberg looked out towards the invader,the rolling plain in front of it, and behind the grim intricate hillcountry of Hohenstein.
When Werner von Orseln and Peter Balta met the invader at the fords ofthe Alla, Maurice von Lynar and Alt Pikker had remained with Joan,nominally to assist her dispositions, but really to form a check uponthe impetuosity of her temper.
Now Von Orseln was back again. The fords of the Alla were forced, andthe fighting strength of Kernsberg united itself in the Eagle's Nest tomake its final stand.
Aloft on the highest ramparts there was a terrace walk which theSparhawk much affected, especially when he was on guard at night. Itlooked towards the east, and from it the first glimpse of theCourtlanders would be obtained.
In the great hall of the guard they were drinking their nightly toast.The shouting might have been heard in the town, where at street cornerswere groups of youths exercising late with wooden spears and mimicarmour, crying "Hurrah, Kernsberg!"
They changed it, however, in imitation of their betters in the Castleabove.
"_Joan of the Sword Hand! Hoch!_"
The shout went far into the night. Again and yet again it was repeatedfrom about the crowded board in the hall of the men-at-arms and from thegloomy streets beneath.
When all was over, the Sparhawk rose, belted his sword a hole or twotighter, set a steel cap without a visor upon his head, glanced atWerner von Orseln, and withdrew, leaving the other captains to theirfree-running jest and laughter. Captain Boris of Plassenburg was tellinga story with a countenance more than ordinarily grave and earnest,while the table round rang with contagious mirth.
The Sparhawk found the high terrace of the Lion Tower guarded by asentry. Him he removed to the foot of the turret-stair, with orders topermit no one save Werner von Orseln to pass on any pretext.
Presently the chief captain's step was heard on the stone turnpike.
"Ha, Sparhawk," he cried, "this is cold cheer! Why could we not havetalked comfortably in hall, with a beaker of mead at one's elbow?"
"The enemy are not in sight," said the Sparhawk gloomily.
"Well, that is bad luck," said Werner; "but do not be afraid, you willhave your chance yet--indeed, all you want and a little over--in the wayof killing of Muscovites."
"I wanted to speak with you on a matter we cannot mention elsewhere,"said Maurice von Lynar.
The chief captain stopped in his stride, drew his cloak about him,rested his thigh on a square battlement, and resigned himself.
"Well," he said, "youth has ever yeasty brains. Go on."
"I would speak of my lady!" said the youth.
"So would most mooncalves of your age!" growled Werner; "but they do notusually bring their commanding officers up to the housetops to do it!"
"I mean our lady, the Duchess Joan!"
"Ah," said Werner, with the persiflage gone out of his tone, "that isaltogether another matter!"
And the two men were silent for a minute, both looking out into theblackness where no stars shone or any light twinkled beyond the walls ofthe little fortified hill town.
At last Maurice von Lynar spoke.
"How long can we hold out if they besiege us?"
"Two months, certainly--with luck, three!"
"And then?"
Werner von Orseln shrugged his shoulders, but only said, "A soldiernever anticipates disaster!"
"And what of the Duchess Joan?" persisted the young man.
"Why, in the same space of time she will be dead or wed!" said VonOrseln, with an affectation of carelessness easily seen through.
The young man burst out, "Dead she may be! I know she will never be wifeto that Courtland Death's-head. I saw it in her eyes that day in theircathedral, when she bade me slip out and bring up our four hundredlances of Kernsberg."
"Like enough," said Werner shortly. "I, for one, set no bounds to anywoman's likings or mislikings!"
"We must get her away to a place of safety," said the young man.
Von Orseln laughed.
"Get her? Who would persuade or compel our lady? Whither would she go?Would she be safer there than here? Would the Courtlander not find outin twenty-four hours that there was no Joan of the Sword Hand inKernsberg, and follow on her trail? And lastly--question most pertinentof all--what had you to drink down there in hall, young fellow?"
The Sparhawk did not notice the last question, nor did he reply in asimilarly jeering tone.
"We must persuade her--capture her, compel her, if necessary. Kernsbergcannot for long hold out against both the Muscovite and the Courtlander.Save good Jorian and Boris, who will lie manfully about their fighting,there is no help for us in mortal man. So this is what we must do tosave our lady!"
"What? Capture Joan of the Sword Hand and carry her off? The mead buzzesin the boy's head. He grows dotty with anxiety and too much hard ale.'Ware, Maurice--these battlements are not over high. I will relieve you,lad! Go to bed and sleep it off!"
"Von Orseln," said the youth, with simple earnestness, not heeding histaunts, "I have thought deeply. I see no way out of it but this. Ourlady will eagerly go on reconnaissance if you represent it as necessary.You must take ten good men and ride north, far north, even to the edgesof the Baltic, to a place I know of, which none but I and one other canfind. There, with a few trusty fellows to guard her, she will be safetill the push of the times is over."
The chief captain was silent. He had wholly dropped his jeering mood.
"There is nothing else that I can see for it," the young Dane went on,finding that Werner did not speak. "Our Joan will never go to Courtlandalive. She will not be carried off on Prince Louis' saddle-bow, as aCossack might carry off a Circassian slave!"
"But how," said Von Orseln, meditating, "will you prevent her absencebeing known? The passage of so large a party may easily be traced andremembered. Though our folk are true enough and loyal enough, sooner orlater what is known in the Castle is known in the town, and what isknown in the town becomes known to the enemy!"
Maurice von Lynar leaned forward towards his chief captain and whispereda few words in his ear.
"Ah!" he said, and nodded. Then, after a pause for thought, he added,"That is none so ill thought on for a beardless younker! I will think itover, sleep on it, and tell you my opinion to-morrow!"
The youth tramped to and fro on the terrace, muttering to himself.
"Goo
d-night, Sparhawk!" said Von Orseln, from the top of the corkscrewstair, as he prepared to descend; "go to bed. I will send Alt Pikker tocommand the house-guard to-night. Do you get straightway between thesheets as soon as maybe. If this mad scheme comes off you will need yourbeauty-sleep with a vengeance! So take it now!"
"At any rate," the chief captain growled to himself, "you have set apretty part for me. I may forthwith order my shroud. I shall never beable to face my lady again!"