The Knights of the Cross, or, Krzyzacy: Historical Romance
her daughter--Anna Danuta. But five years ago, when near Zlotorja, the
Germans attacked the court,--she died from fear. Then the princess took
the girl, and she has taken care of her since. Her father often comes to
the court; he is glad that the princess is bringing his child up healthy
and in happiness. But every time he looks at her, he cries, remembering
his wife; then he returns to avenge on the Germans his awful wrong. He
loved his wife more dearly than any one in the whole Mazowsze till now
has loved; but he has killed in revenge a great many Germans."
In a moment Zbyszko's eyes were shining and the veins on his forehead
swelled.
"Then the Germans killed her mother?" he asked.
"Killed and not killed. She died from fear. Five years ago there was
peace; nobody was thinking about war and everybody felt safe. The prince
went without any soldiers, only with the court, as usual during peace, to
build a tower in Zlotorja. Those traitors, the Germans, fell upon them
without any declaration of war, without any reason. They seized the
prince himself, and remembering neither God's anger, nor that from the
prince's ancestor, they had received great benefits, they bound him to a
horse and slaughtered his people. The prince was a prisoner a long time,
and only when King Wladyslaw threatened them with war, did they release
him. During this attack Danusia's mother died."
"And you, sir, were you there? What do they call you? I have forgotten!"
"My name is Mikolaj of Dlugolas and they call me Obuch.[19] I was there.
I saw a German with peacock feathers on his helmet, bind her to his
saddle; and then she died from fear. They cut me with a halberd from
which I have a scar."
Having said this he showed a deep scar on his head coming from beneath
his hair to his eyebrows.
There was a moment of silence. Zbyszko was again looking at Danusia. Then
he asked:
"And you said, sir, that she has no knight?"
But he did not receive any answer, because at that moment the singing
stopped. One of the _rybalts_, a fat and heavy man, suddenly rose, and
the bench tilted to one side. Danusia tottered and stretched out her
little hands, but before she could fall or jump, Zbyszko rushed up like a
wild-cat and seized her in his arms.
The princess, who at first screamed from fear, laughed immediately and
began to shout:
"Here is Danusia's knight! Come, little knight and give us back our dear
little girl!"
"He grasped her boldly," some among the courtiers were heard to say.
Zbyszko walked toward the princess, holding Danusia to his breast, who
having encircled his neck with one arm, held the lute with the other,
being afraid it would be broken. Her face was smiling and pleased,
although a little bit frightened.
In the meanwhile the youth came near the princess, put Danusia before
her, kneeled, raised his head and said with remarkable boldness for his
age:
"Let it be then according to your word, my gracious lady! It is time for
this gentle young girl to have her knight, and it is time for me to have
my lady, whose beauty and virtues I shall extol. With your permission, I
wish to make a vow and I will remain faithful to her under all
circumstances until death."
The princess was surprised, not on account of Zbyszko's words, but
because everything had happened so suddenly. It is true that the custom
of making vows was not Polish; but Mazowsze, being situated on the German
frontier, and often being visited by the knights from remote countries,
was more familiar with that custom than the other provinces, and imitated
it very often. The princess had also heard about it in her father's
court, where all eastern customs were considered as the law and the
example for the noble warriors. Therefore she did not see in Zbyszko's
action anything which could offend either herself or Danusia. She was
even glad that her dear girl had attracted the heart and the eyes of a
knight.
Therefore she turned her joyful face toward the girl.
"Danusia! Danusia! Do you wish to have your own knight?"
The fair-haired Danusia after jumping three times in her red shoes,
seized the princess by the neck and began to scream with joy, as though
they were promising her some pleasure permitted to the older people only.
"I wish, I wish----!"
The princess' eyes were filled with tears from laughing and the whole
court laughed with her; then the lady said to Zbyszko:
"Well, make your vow! Make your vow! What will you promise her?"
But Zbyszko, who preserved his seriousness undisturbed amidst the
laughter, said with dignity, while still kneeling:
"I promise that as soon as I reach Krakow, I will hang my spear on the
door of the inn, and on it I will put a card, which a student in writing
will write for me. On the card I will proclaim that Panna Danuta
Jurandowna is the prettiest and most virtuous girl among all living in
this or any other kingdom. Anyone who wishes to contradict this
declaration, I will fight until one of us dies or is taken into
captivity."
"Very well! I see you know the knightly custom. And what more?"
"I have learned from Pan Mikolaj of Dlugolas that the death of Panna
Jurandowna's mother was caused by the brutality of a German who wore the
crest of a peacock. Therefore I vow to gird my naked sides with a hempen
rope, and even though it eat me to the bone, I will wear it until I tear
three such tufts of feathers from the heads of German warriors whom I
kill."
Here the princess became serious.
"Don't make any joke of your vows!"
And Zbyszko added:
"So help me God and holy cross, this vow I will repeat in church before a
priest."
"It is a praiseworthy thing to fight against the enemy of our people; but
I pity you, because you are young, and you can easily perish."
At that moment Macko of Bogdanice approached, thinking it proper to
reassure the princess.
"Gracious lady, do not be frightened about that. Everybody must risk
being killed in a fight, and it is a laudable end for a _wlodyka_, old or
young. But war is not new nor strange to this man, because although he is
only a youth, he has fought on horseback and on foot, with spear and with
axe, with short sword and with long sword, with lance and without. It is
a new custom, for a knight to vow to a girl whom he sees for the first
time; but I do not blame Zbyszko for his promise. He has fought the
Germans before. Let him fight them again, and if during that fight a few
heads are broken, his glory will increase."
"I see that we have to do with a gallant knight," said the princess.
Then to Danusia, she said:
"Take my place as the first person to-day; only do not laugh because it
is not dignified."
Danusia sat in the place of the lady; she wanted to be dignified, but her
blue eyes were laughing at the kneeling Zbyszko, and she could not help
moving her feet from joy.
"Give him your gloves," said the princess.
Danusia pulled off her gloves and handed them to Zbyszko who pressed them
with great respect to his lips, and said:
"I will fix them on my helmet and woe to the one who stretches his hands
for them!"
Then he kissed Danusia's hands and feet and arose. Then his dignity left
him, and great joy filled his heart because from that time the whole
court would consider him a mature man. Therefore shaking Danusia's
gloves, he began to shout, half mirthfully, half angrily:
"Come, you dog-brothers with peacock's crests, come!"
But at that moment the same monk who had been there before entered the
inn, and with him two superior ones. The servants of the monastery
carried willow baskets which contained bottles of wine and some tidbits.
The monks greeted the princess and again reproached her because she had
not gone directly to the abbey. She explained to them again, that having
slept during the day, she was traveling at night for coolness; therefore
she did not need any sleep; and as she did not wish to awaken the worthy
abbot nor the respectable monks, she preferred to stop in an inn to
stretch her limbs.
After many courteous words, it was finally agreed, that after matins and
mass in the morning, the princess with her court would breakfast and rest
in the monastery. The affable monks also invited the Mazurs, the two
noblemen and Macko of Bogdaniec who intended to go to the abbey to
deposit his wealth acquired in the war and increased by Witold's
munificent gift. This treasure was destined to redeem Bogdaniec from his
pledge. But the young Zbyszko did not hear the invitation, because he had
rushed to his wagon which was guarded by his servants, to procure better
apparel for himself. He ordered his chests carried to a room in the inn
and there he began to dress. At first he hastily combed his hair and put
it in a silk net ornamented with amber beads, and in the front with real
pearls. Then he put on a "_jaka_" of white silk embroidered with golden
griffins; he girded himself with a golden belt from which was hanging a
small sword in an ivory scabbard ornamented with gold. Everything was
new, shining and unspotted with blood, although it had been taken as
booty from a Fryzjan knight who served with the Knights of the Cross.
Then Zbyszko put on beautiful trousers, one part having red and green
stripes, the other part, yellow and purple, and both ended at the top
like a checkered chessboard. After that he put on red shoes with long
points. Fresh and handsome he went into the room.
In fact, as he stood in the door, his appearance made a great impression.
The princess seeing now what a handsome knight had vowed to Danusia, was
still more pleased. Danusia jumped toward him like a gazelle. But either
the beauty of the young man or the sounds of admiration from the
courtiers, caused her to pause before she reached him, drop her eyes
suddenly and blushing and confused, begin to wring her fingers.
After her, came the others; the princess herself, the courtiers, the
ladies-in-waiting, the _rybalts_ and the monks all wanted to see him. The
young Mazovian girls were looking at him as at a rainbow, each regretting
that he had not chosen her; the older ones admired the costly dress; and
thus, a circle of curious ones was formed around him. Zbyszko stood in
the centre with a boastful smile on his youthful face, and turned himself
slightly, so that they could see him better.
"Who is he?" asked one of the monks.
"He is a knight, nephew of that _wlodyka_" answered the princess,
pointing to Macko; "he has made a vow to Danusia."
The monks did not show any surprise, because such a vow did not bind him
to anything. Often vows were made to married women, and among the
powerful families where the eastern custom was known, almost every woman
had a knight. If a knight made a vow to a young girl, he did not thus
become her fiancé; on the contrary he usually married another; he was
constant to his vow, but did not hope to be wedded to her, but to marry
another.
The monks were more astonished at Danusia's youth, and even not much at
that, because in those times sixteen year old youths used to be
castellans. The great Queen Jadwiga herself, when she came from Hungary,
was only fifteen years old, and thirteen year old girls used to marry. At
any rate, at that moment they were more occupied looking at Zbyszko than
at Danusia; they also listened to Macko's words, who, proud of his
nephew, was telling how the youth came in possession of such beautiful
clothes.
"One year and nine weeks ago," said he, "we were invited by the Saxon
knights. There was another guest, a certain knight, from a far Fryzjan
nation, who lived there on the shores of a sea. With him was his son who
was three years older than Zbyszko. Once at a banquet, that son began to
taunt Zbyszko because he has neither moustache nor beard. Zbyszko being