The Knights of the Cross, or, Krzyzacy: Historical Romance
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!"
And the whole story, especially the last words of the Teuton, made a
great impression upon all present. Terror fell upon them all. They were
simply overwhelmed with fear lest Jurand had actually summoned unclean
powers to his assistance, and deep silence followed. But the princess,
who was present at the audience, and who, loving Danusia, had a heart
full of inconsolable sorrow for her, turned with an unexpected question
to Rotgier: "You say, knight," she remarked, "that, after capturing the
girl, you thought her to be Jurand's daughter, and therefore summoned him
to Szczytno?"
"Yes, beloved lady," replied Rotgier.
"How could you have thought so, since you saw the real daughter of Jurand
with me in the Forest Court?"
At that Brother Rotgier became embarrassed, because he was not prepared
for such a question. The prince arose and fixed a severe look on the
Teuton, while Mikolaj of Dlugolas, Mrokota of Mocarzew, Jasko of
Jagielnica and other knights of Mazowsze instantly sprang toward the
brother, inquiring alternately with threatening voices:
"How could you have thought so? Speak, German I How could that be?"
And Brother Rotgier recovered himself and said: "We brethren do not raise
our eyes to women. In the Forest Court with the beloved princess there
were many court ladies, but which among them was Jurand's daughter, none
of us knew."
"Danveld knew," said Mikolaj of Dlugolas. "He even talked to her during
the hunt."
"Danveld stands before God," replied Rotgier, "and of him I shall only
say that the following morning blooming roses were found on his coffin,
which, in this wintry weather, could not come there by human hands."
Then again followed silence.
"How did you know of the capture of Jurand's daughter?" inquired the
prince.
"Only the wickedness and audacity of the deed made it known to us.
Therefore on hearing about it, we ordered thanksgiving masses because
only a plain court lady, and not one of the children born of your
Highness, was captured from the Forest Court."
"But I still wonder, how you could mistake a wench for Jurand's
daughter."
"Danveld said: 'Often Satan betrayed his servants, so perhaps he changed
Jurand's daughter.'"
"The robbers though, as vulgar men, could not counterfeit Kaleb's writing
and Jurand's seal. Who could have done it?"
"The Evil Spirit."
And again nobody could find an answer.
Rotgier glanced searchingly into the prince's eyes and said: "Indeed,
these questions are like weapons in my breast, because they contain doubt
and suspicion. But I trust in God's justice and the power of truth. I ask
of your majesty: even Jurand himself suspected us of that action, and
when suspecting, before we summoned him to Szczytno, why did he search
for robbers through the whole border in order to buy his daughter back
from them?"
"It is true!" said the prince. "Even if you were hiding something from
men, you cannot hide it from God. He suspected you in the first moment
but then ... then he thought differently."
"Behold how the brightness of truth conquers the darkness," said Rotgier,
and he glanced triumphantly around the hall; he thought that Teutonic
heads had more adroitness and sense than the Polish, and that the latter
race would always be the prey and food of the Order, as a fly is the prey
and food of the spider.
Therefore, throwing off his previous disguise, he approached the prince
and commenced to speak in loud and impetuous tones:
"Requite us, lord, our losses, our grievances, our tears, and our blood!
That hell-hound was your subject; therefore, in the name of God from whom
the power of kings and princes is derived, in the name of justice and the
cross, requite us for our grievances and blood!"
But the prince looked at him in astonishment.
"For God's sake!" he said, "what do you want? if Jurand shed your blood
in madness, am I to answer for his frenzy?"
"He was your subject, lord," said the Teuton, "in your principality lie
his possessions, his villages and his castle, in which he imprisoned the
servants of the Order; at least let these possessions, this domain and
that wicked castle, become henceforth the property of the Order. Truly
this will not be an adequate payment for the noble blood shed! truly it
will not revive the dead, but perhaps it will partly appease God's anger
and wipe away the disgrace, which will otherwise fall upon this entire
principality. O, lord! The Order possesses grounds and castles
everywhere, which were given to it by the favor and piety of the
Christian princes, and only here in your territory have we no particle of
land. Let our grievance, which calls to God for vengeance, be at least so
rewarded that we may say that here also live people, who have the fear of
God in their hearts!" Hearing this, the prince was still more amazed, and
then, after a long silence, replied:
"For God's sake! And through whose clemency, if not through that of my
ancestors, does your Order even exist here? The lands, estates and
towers, which once upon a time belonged to us and our nation, and which
now are your property, do these not suffice for you yet? Jurand's girl is
yet alive because nobody has informed you of her death, while you already
want to seize the orphan's dower, and requite your grievances with an
orphan's bread?"
"Lord, you admit the wrong," said Rotgier, "consequently right it
according to what your princely conscience and your honest soul
dictates." And he was again glad in his heart, because he thought: "Now,
they not only will not sue but they will even consider how to wash their
hands and to evade the whole matter. Nobody will blame us for anything,
and our fame will be as spotless as the white cloak of the Order."
Just then the voice of old Mikolaj of Dlugolas was heard: "They suspect
you of being avaricious and God knows whether justly or no, because even
in this matter, you care more for the profits than the honor of the
Order."
"True!" cried the Mazovian knights in chorus. Then the Teuton advanced a
few steps, proudly raised his head, and measuring them with a haughty
look, said:
"I do not come here as a messenger, but merely as a witness of the affair
and a knight of the Order who is ready to defend the honor of the Order
with his own blood to the last gasp! Who, then, in contradiction to
Jurand's own words, dares to suspect the Order of having captured his
daughter--let him raise this knightly pledge and submit to God's
judgment!"
Having said this, he cast before them his knightly glove, which fell upon
the floor; they again stood in deep silence, because, although more than
one of them would have liked to break his weapon on the Teuton's back,
they all feared God's judgment. Every one knew that Jurand had expressly
stated that the knights of the Order had not captured his child; so they
all thought to themselves, "It is a just cause; consequently Rotgier will
be victorious."
He again became so much the more insolent, and leaning upon his loins,
inquired:
"If it is so, who will raise that glove?"
Just then, a knight, whose entrance nobody had yet observed, and who for
some time had listened at the door to the conversation, advanced to the
centre, raised the gauntlet and said:
"I will!" and so saying, he stared directly into Rotgier's face, and then
began to speak with a voice which in that universal silence resounded
like thunder through the hall:
"Before God, before the august prince and all the honorable knighthood of
this land, I tell you, Teuton, that you bark like a dog against justice
and truth--and I challenge you to a combat on foot, or horseback, with
lance or axe, short or long weapons, and not unto imprisonment but unto
the last gasp, unto death!"
A fly could be heard in the hall. All eyes were turned upon Rotgier and
the challenging knight, whom nobody recognized, because he had a helmet
covering his head, although without a steel cap, but with a circular
visor descending below the ear entirely covering the upper part of the
face, and casting a deep shadow over the lower part. The Teuton was no
less astonished than the rest. Confusion, pallor and raging anger chased
each other over his face, as lightning flashes across a mighty heaven.
He caught the gauntlet and attached it to the hook of his armlet, and
said:
"Who are you that challenge God's justice?"
The other then unbuckled his gorget, removed the helmet, beneath which
appeared a fair, youthful head, and said:
"Zbyszko of Bogdaniec, the husband of Jurand's daughter."
They were all amazed, and Rotgier, with the others, because none of them,
except the prince and his wife, Father Wyszoniek and de Lorche, knew of
Danusia's marriage; the Teutons moreover were confident that Jurand's
daughter had no other natural defender besides her father; but at that
moment de Lorche stood up and said:
"Upon my knightly honor I vouch for the truthfulness of his words; should
anybody dare to doubt it, here is my guage."
Rotgier, who did not know what fear meant, and whose heart swelled with
anger at this moment, would have perhaps accepted even this challenge,
but remembering that the man who cast it was powerful, and moreover a
relative of Duke Geldryi, he refrained, and the more readily, because the
prince himself arose and, wrinkling his brows, said:
"It is forbidden to accept this challenge, because I also declare that
this knight has told the truth."
The Teuton, on hearing this, bowed, and then said to Zbyszko:
"If you wish it, then on foot, in closed lists with axes."
"I have already challenged you in all ways," replied Zbyszko.
"May God give the victory to justice!" exclaimed the Mazovian knights.
CHAPTER III.
There was anxiety about Zbyszko in the whole court, among the knights as
well as among the ladies, because he was universally liked; but,
according to Jurand's letter, nobody doubted that the right was on the
side of the Teuton. On the other hand it was known that Rotgier was one
of the more famous brethren of the Order. The squire van Krist narrated
among the Mazovian nobility, perhaps on purpose, that his lord before
becoming an armed monk, once sat at the Honor-Table of the Teutons, to
which table only world-famous knights were admitted, those who had
accomplished an expedition to the Holy Land, or fought victoriously
against giants, dragons, or mighty magicians. Hearing van Krist tell such
tales, and, at the same time, boast that his lord had repeatedly met five
opponents single-handed with his "dagger of mercy" in one hand and an axe