The Knights of the Cross, or, Krzyzacy: Historical Romance
very side of the princess, a youthful, sobbing, female voice called out:
"For Danusia, Zbyszko! for Danusia!"
Zbyszko knew well that it was for Danusia's sake. He was sure that this
Teuton had assisted in her capture, and in fighting him, he fought for
her wrongs. But being young and eager for battles, during the combat he
had thought of that only. But suddenly, that cry brought back to his mind
her loss and her sufferings. Love, sorrow and vengeance poured fire into
his veins. His heart began to call out with suddenly awakened pain, and
he was plainly seized with a fighting frenzy. The Teuton could not any
longer catch nor avoid the terrible strokes, resembling thunderbolts.
Zbyszko struck his shield against his with such superhuman force, that
the German's arm stiffened suddenly and fell.... He retreated in terror
and half crouched, but that instant there flashed in his eyes the gleam
of the axe, and the sharp edge fell like a thunderbolt upon his right
shoulder.
Only a rending cry reached the ears of the onlookers: "Jesus!"--then
Rotgier retreated one more step and fell upon his back on the ground.
Immediately there was a noise and buzz on the porches, as in a bee-garden
in which the bees, warmed by the sun, commence to move and swarm. The
knights ran down the stairs in whole throngs, the servants jumped over
the snow-walls, to take a look at the corpses. Everywhere resounded the
shouts: "This is God's judgment ... Jurand has an heir! Glory to him and
thanksgiving! This is a man for the axe!" Others again cried: "Look and
marvel! Jurand himself could not strike more nobly." A whole group of
curious ones stood around Rotgier's corpse, and he lay on his back with a
face as white as snow, with gaping mouth and with a bloody arm so
terribly shorn from the neck down to the armpit, that it scarcely held by
a few shreds.
Therefore, others again said: "He was alive just now and walked upon the
earth with arrogance, but now he cannot even move a finger." And thus
speaking, some admired his stature, because he took up a large space on
the battlefield, and appeared even larger in death; others again admired
his peacock plume, changing colors beautifully in the snow; others again
his armor, which was valued at a good village. But the Bohemian, Hlawa,
now approached with two of Zbyszko's retainers in order to take it off
from the deceased, therefore the curious surrounded Zbyszko, praising and
extolling him to the skies, because they justly thought that his fame
would redound to the credit of the whole Mazovian and Polish knighthood.
Meanwhile the shield and axe were taken from him, to lighten his burden,
and Mrokota of Mocarzew unbuckled his helmet and covered his hair, wet
with perspiration, with a cap of scarlet cloth.
Zbyszko stood, as if petrified, breathing heavily, with the fire not
fully extinguished yet in his eyes, and a face pale with exhaustion and
determination and trembling somewhat with excitement and fatigue. But he
was taken by the hand and led to the princely family, who were waiting
for him in a warm room, by the fireside. There Zbyszko kneeled down
before them and when Father Wyszoniek gave him a blessing and said a
prayer for the eternal rest of the souls of the dead, the prince embraced
the young knight and said:
"God Almighty decided between you two and guided your hand, for which His
name be blessed. Amen!"
Then turning to the knight de Lorche and others, he added:
"You, foreign knight and all present I take as witnesses to what I
testify myself, that they met according to law and custom, and as the
'Judgment of God' is everywhere performed, this also was conducted in a
knightly and devout manner."
The local warriors cried out affirmatively in chorus; when again the
prince's words were translated to de Lorche, he arose and announced that
he not only testified that all was conducted in knightly and devout
style, but should anybody in Malborg or any other princely court dare to
question it, he, de Lorche, would challenge him instantly to fight either
on foot or horseback, even if he should not merely be a common knight,
but a giant or wizard, exceeding even Merlin's magical power.
Meanwhile, the princess Anna Danuta, at the moment when Zbyszko embraced
her knees, said as she bent down to him:
"Why do you not feel happy? Be happy and thank God, because if He in His
mercy has granted you this suit, then He will not leave you in the
future, and will lead you to happiness."
But Zbyszko replied:
"How can I be happy, gracious lady? God gave me victory and vengeance
over that Teuton, but Danusia was not and still is not here, and I am no
nearer to her now than I was before."
"The most stubborn foes, Danveld, Godfried and Rotgier live no longer,"
replied the princess, "and they say that Zygfried is more just than they,
although cruel. Praise God's mercy at least for that. Also de Lorche said
that if the Teuton fell he would carry his body away, and go instantly to
Malborg and demand Danusia from the grand master himself. They will
certainly not dare to disobey the grand master."
"May God give health to de Lorche," said Zbyszko, "and I will go with him
to Malborg."
But these words frightened the princess, who felt it was as if Zbyszko
said he would go unarmed among the wolves that assembled in the winter in
packs in the deep Mazovian forests.
"What for?" she exclaimed. "For sure destruction? On your arrival,
neither de Lorche nor those letters, written by Rotgier before the fight,
will help you. You will save nobody and only ruin yourself."
But he arose, crossed his hands and said: "So may God help me, that I
shall go to Malborg and even across oceans. So may Christ bless me, that
I shall look for her until the last breath of my nostrils, and that I
shall not cease until I perish. It is easier for me to fight the Germans,
and meet them in arms, than for this orphan to moan under ground. Oh,
easier! easier!"
And he said that, as always when he mentioned Danusia, with such rapture,
with such pain, that his words broke off as if some one had clutched him
by the throat.
The princess recognized that it would be useless to turn him aside, and
that if anybody wanted to detain him it must be by chaining him and
casting him under ground.
But Zbyszko could not leave at once. Knights of that day were not allowed
to heed any obstacles, but he was not permitted to break the knightly
custom that required the winner in a duel to spend a whole day on the
field of combat, until the following midnight, and this in order to show
that he remained master of the field of battle and to show his readiness
for another fight, should any of the relatives or friends of the defeated
wish to challenge him to such.
This custom was even observed by whole armies, which thus sometimes lost
advantages which might accrue from haste after the victory. Zbyszko did
not even attempt to evade that inexorable law, and refreshing himself,
and afterward putting on his armor, he lingered until midnight in the
castle yard, under the clouded wintry sky, awaiting the foe that could
not come from anywhere.
At midnight, when the heralds finally announced his victory by sound of
trumpet, Mikolaj of Dlugolas invited him to supper and at the same time
to a council with the prince.
CHAPTER V.
The prince was the first to take the floor at the consultation and spoke
as follows:
"It is bad that we have no writing nor testimony against the counts.
Although our suspicions may be justified, and I myself think that they
and nobody else captured Jurand's daughter, still what of it? They will
deny it. And if the grand master asks for proofs, what shall I show him?
Bah! even Jurand's letter speaks in their favor."
Here he turned to Zbyszko:
"You say that they forced this letter from him with threats. It is
possible, and undoubtedly it is so, because if justice were on their
side, God would not have helped you against Rotgier. But since they
extorted one, then they could extort also two. And perhaps they have
evidence from Jurand, that they are not guilty of the capture of this
unfortunate girl. And if so, they will show it to the master and what
will happen then?"
"Why, they admitted themselves, gracious lord, that they recaptured her
from bandits and that she is with them now."
"I know that. But they say now that they were mistaken, and that this is
another girl, and the best proof is that Jurand himself disclaimed her."
"He disclaimed her because they showed him another girl, and that is what
exasperated him."
"Surely it was so, but they can say that these are only our ideas."
"Their lies," said Mikolaj of Dlugolas, "are like a pine forest. From the
edge a little way is visible, but the deeper one goes the greater is the
density, so that a man goes astray and loses his way entirely."
He then repeated his words in German to de Lorche, who said:
"The grand master himself is better than they are, also his brother,
although he has a daring soul, but it guards knightly honor."
"Yes," replied Mikolaj. "The master is humane. He cannot restrain the
counts, nor the assembly, and it is not his fault that everything in the
Order is based upon human wrongs, but he cannot help it. Go, go, Sir de
Lorche, and tell him what has happened here. They are more ashamed before
strangers than before us, lest they should tell of their outrages and
dishonest actions at foreign courts. And should the master ask for
proofs, then tell him this: 'To know the truth is divine, to seek it is
human, therefore if you wish proofs, lord, then seek them.' Order the
castles to be summoned and the people to be questioned, allow us to
search, because it is foolishness and a lie that this orphan was stolen
by bandits of the woods."
"Folly and lies!" repeated de Lorche.
"Because bandits would not dare to attack the princely court, nor
Jurand's child. And even if they should have captured her, it would be
only for ransom, and they alone would inform us that they had her."
"I shall narrate all that," said the Lotaringen, "and also find von
Bergow. We are from the same country, and although I don't know him, they
say that he is a relative of Duke Geldryi's. He was at Szczytno and
should tell the master what he saw."
Zbyszko understood a few of his words, and whatever he did not, Mikolaj
explained to him; he then embraced de Lorche so tightly that the knight
almost groaned.
The prince again said to Zbyszko:
"And are you also absolutely determined to go?"
"Absolutely, gracious lord. What else am I to do? I vowed to seize
Szczytno, even if I had to bite the walls with my teeth, but how can I
declare war without permission?"
"Whoever began war without permission, would rue it under the
executioner's sword," said the prince.
"It is certainly the law of laws," replied Zbyszko. "Bah! I wished then
to challenge all who were in Szczytno, but people said that Jurand
slaughtered them like cattle, and I did not know who was alive and who
dead.... Because, may God and the Holy Cross help me, I will not desert
Jurand till the last moment!"
"You speak nobly and worthily," said Mikolaj of Dlugolas. "And it proves
that you were sensible not to go alone to Szczytno, because even a fool
would have known that they would keep neither Jurand nor his daughter
there, but undoubtedly would carry them away to some other castle. God
rewarded your arrival here with Rotgier."
"And now!" said the prince, "as we heard from Rotgier, of those four only
old Zygfried is alive, and the others God has punished already either by
your hand or Jurand's. As for Zygfried, he is less of a rascal than the
others, but perhaps the more ruthless tyrant. It is bad that Jurand and