CHAPTER XXIX
THE GREETING OF THE PRINCESS MARGARET
They were making terms concerning treaty of delivering thus:--
"When the last Muscovite has crossed the Alla, when the men of Courtlandstand ready to follow--then, and not sooner, we will deliver up our LadyJoan. For this we shall receive from you, Louis, Prince of Courtland,fifty hogsheads of wine, six hundred wagon-loads of good wheat, and thefour great iron cannon now standing before the Stralsund Gate. This allto be completed before we of Kernsberg hand our Lady over."
"It is a thing agreed!" answered Louis of Courtland, who longed to begone, and, above all, to get his Muscovite allies out of his country.For not only did they take all the best of everything in the field, but,like locusts, they spread themselves over the rear, carrying plunder andrapine through the territories of Courtland itself--treating it, indeed,as so much conquered country, so that men were daily deserting hiscolours in order to go back to protect their wives and daughters fromthe Cossacks of the Don and the Strelits of Little Russia.
Moreover, above all, Prince Louis wanted that proud wench, his wife.Without her as his prisoner, he dared not go back to his capital city.He had sworn an oath before the people. For the rest, Kernsberg itselfcould wait. Without a head it would soon fall in, and, besides, heflattered himself that he would so sway and influence the Duchess, whenonce he had her safe in his palace by the mouth of Alla, that she wouldrepent her folly, and at no distant day sit knee by knee with him on histhrone of state in the audience hall when the suitors came to pleadconcerning the law.
And even his guest Prince Ivan was complaisant, standing behind Louis'schair and smiling subtly to himself.
"Brother of mine," he would say, "I came to help you to your wife. It isyour own affair how you take her and what you do with her when you gether. For me, as soon as you have her safe within the summer palace, andhave given me, according to promise, my heart's desire your sisterMargaret, so soon will I depart for Moscow. My father, indeed, sendsdaily posts praying my instant despatch, for he only waits my return tolaunch a host upon his enemy the King of Polognia."
And Prince Louis, reaching over the arm of his chair, patted hisfriend's small sweet-scented hand, and thanked him for his mostunselfish and generous assistance.
Thus the leaguer of Hohenstein attained its object. Prince Louis hadnot, it is true, stormed the heights of Kernsberg as he had sworn to do.He had, in fact, left behind him to the traitors who delivered theirDuchess a large portion of his stores and munitions of war.Nevertheless, he returned proud in heart to his capital city. For in themidst of his most faithful body of cavalry rode the young Duchess Joan,Princess of Courtland, on a white Neapolitan barb, with reins thatjingled like silver bells and rosettes of ribbon on the bosses of herharness.
The beautiful prisoner appeared, as was natural, somewhat wan andanxious. She was clad in a close-fitting gown of pale blue, withinch-wide broidering of gold, laced in front, and with a train whichdrooped almost to the ground. Over this a cloak of deeper blue was worn,with a hood in which the dark, proud head of the Princess nestled halfhidden and half revealed. The folk who crowded to see her go by tookthis for coquetry. She rode with only the one councillor by her who haddared to share her captivity--one Alt Pikker, a favourite veteran of herlittle army, and the master-swordsman (they said) who had instructed herin the use of arms.
No indignity had been offered to her. Indeed, as great honour was doneher as was possible in the circumstances. Prince Louis had approachedand led her by the hand to the steed which awaited her at the fords ofthe Alla. The soldiers of Courtland elevated their spears and thetrumpets of both hosts brayed a salute. Then, without a word spoken, herhusband had bowed and withdrawn as a gentleman should. Prince Ivan thenapproached, and on one knee begged the privilege of kissing her fairhand.
The traitors of Kernsberg, who had bartered their mistress for severaltuns of Rhenish, could not meet her eye, but stood gloomily apart withfaces sad and downcast, and from within the town came the sound of womenweeping. Only George the Hussite stood by with a smile on his face andhis thumbs stuck in his waistband.
The captive Princess spoke not at all, as was indeed natural andfitting. A woman conquered does not easily forgive those who havehumbled her pride. She talked little even to Alt Pikker, and then onlyapart. The nearest guide, who had been chosen because of his knowledgeof German, could not hear a murmur. With bowed head and eyes that dweltsteadily on the undulating mane of her white barb, Joan swayed hergraceful body and compressed her lips like one captured but in nowisevanquished. And the soldiers of the army of Courtland (those of them whowere married) whispered one to another, noting her demeanour, "Our goodPrince is but at the beginning of his troubles; for, by Brunhild, didyou ever see such a wench? They say she can engage any two fencers ofher army at one time!"
"Her eye itself is like a rapier thrust," whispered another. "Just now Iwent near her to look, and she arched an eyebrow at me, no more--andlo! I went cold at my marrow as if I felt the blue steel stand out at mybackbone."
"It is the hunger and the anger that have done it," said another; "and,indeed, small wonder! She looked not so pale when I saw her ride alongCourtland Street that day to the Dom--the day she was to be married.Then her eyes did not pierce you through, but instead they shone withtheir own proper light and were very gracious."
"A strange wench, a most strange wench," responded the first, "so soonto change her mind."
"Ha!" laughed his companion, "little do you know if you say so! She is awoman--small doubt of that! Besides, is she not a princess? andwherefore should our Prince's wife not change her mind?"
They entered Courtland, and the flags flew gaily as on the day ofwedding. The drums beat, and the populace drank from spigots that foamedred wine. Then Louis the Prince came, with hat in hand, and begged thatthe Princess Joan would graciously allow him to ride beside her throughthe streets. He spoke respectfully, and Joan could only bow her head inacquiescence.
Thus they came to the courtyard of the palace, the people shoutingbehind them. There, on the steps, gowned in white and gold, with barehead overrun with ringlets, stood the Princess Margaret among her women.And at sight of her the heart of the false Princess gave a mighty bound,as Joan of the Sword Hand drew her hood closer about her face and triedto remember in what fashion a lady dismounted from her horse.
"My lady," said Prince Louis, standing hat in hand before her barb, "Icommit you to the care of my sister, the Princess Margaret, knowing theancient friendship that there is between you two. She will speak for me,knowing all my will, and being also herself shortly contracted inmarriage to my good friend, Prince Ivan of Muscovy. Open your hearts toeach other, I pray you, and be assured that no evil or indignity shallbefall one whom I admire as the fairest of women and honour as my weddedwife!"
Joan made no answer, but leaped from her horse without waiting for thehand of Alt Pikker, which many thought strange. In another moment thearms of the Princess Margaret were about her neck, and that impulsivePrincess was kissing her heartily on cheek and lips, talking all thewhile through her tears.
"Quick! Let us get in from all these staring stupid men. You are tolodge in my palace so long as it lists you. My brother hath promised it.Where are your women?"
"I have no women," said Joan, in a low voice, blushing meanwhile; "theywould not accompany a poor betrayed prisoner from Kernsberg to a prisoncell!"
"Prison cell, indeed! You will find that I have a very comfortabledungeon ready for you! Come--my maidens will assist you. Hasten--pray domake haste!" cried the impetuous little lady, her arm close about thetall Joan.
"I thank you," said the false bride, with some reluctance, "but I amwell accustomed to wait on myself."
"Indeed, I do not wonder," cried the ready Princess; "maids arevexatious creatures, well called 'tirewomen.' But come--see thebeautiful rooms I have chosen for you! Make haste and take off yourcloak, and then I will come to you; I am fairly dying to talk. Ah, whydid you
not tell me that day? That was ill done. I would have ridden sogladly with you. It was a glorious thing to do, and has made you famousall over the world, they say. I have been thinking ever since what I cando to be upsides with you and make them talk about me. I will give thema surprise one day that shall be great as yours. But perhaps I may notwait till I am married to do it."
And she took her friend by the hand and with a light-hearted skippingmotion convoyed her to her summer palace, kissed her again at the door,and shut her in with another imperious adjuration to be speedy.
"I will give you a quarter of an hour," she cried, as she lingered amoment; "then I will come to hear all your story, every word."
Then the false Princess staggered rather than walked to a chair, forbrain and eye were reeling.
"God wot," she murmured; "strange things to hear, indeed! Sweet lady,you little know how strange! This is ten thousand times a straiter placeto be in than when I played the Count von Loeen. Ah, women, women, whatyou bring a poor innocent man to!"
So, without unhooking her cloak or even throwing back the hood, thissadly bewildered bride sat down and tried to select any hopeful line ofaction out of the whirling chaos of her thoughts. And even as she satthere a knock came sharply at the door.
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