The Knights of the Cross, or, Krzyzacy: Historical Romance

Macko mentioned the name and the coat of arms of his nephew. "If you belong to Princess Janusz' court, beg her to intercede for you with the king." "We are not with her court. We are returning from Litwa, from Prince Witold. Better for us if we had never met any court! This misfortune has come from that." Here Macko began to tell about what had happened in the inn; he spoke about the meeting with the princess and about Zbyszko's vow. Then suddenly he was filled with anger against Zbyszko, whose imprudence had caused their present dreadful plight; therefore, turning toward him, he exclaimed: "I would have preferred to see you dead at Wilno! What have you done, you young of a wild boar!" "Well," said Zbyszko, "after the vow, I prayed to the Lord Jesus to give me some Germans; I promised him a present; therefore when I perceived the peacock feathers, and also a mantle embroidered with a cross, immediately some voice cried within me: 'Strike the German! It is a miracle!' Well I rushed forward then; who would not have done it?" "Listen," interrupted Powala, "I do not wish you any evil. I see clearly that this youngster sinned rather from youthful giddiness than from malice. I will be only too glad to ignore his deed and go forward as if nothing had happened. But I cannot do this unless that _comthur_ will promise that he will not complain to the king. Beseech him; perhaps he also will pity the lad." "I prefer to go before the courts, than to bow to a _Krzyzak_!"[30] exclaimed Zbyszko. "It would not be befitting my dignity as a _wlodyka_." Powala of Taczew looked at him severely and said: "You do not act wisely. Old people know better than you, what is right and what is befitting a knight's dignity. People have heard about me; but I tell you, that if I had acted as you have, I would not be ashamed to ask forgiveness for such an offence." Zbyszko felt ashamed; but having glanced around, answered: "The ground is level here. Instead of asking him for forgiveness, I would prefer to fight him on horseback or on foot, till death or slavery." "You are stupid!" interrupted Macko. "You wish then to fight the envoy?" Here he turned to Powala: "You must excuse him, noble lord. He became wild during the war. It will be better if he does not speak to the German, because he may insult him. I will do it. I will entreat him to forgive. If this _comthur_ be willing to settle it by combat, after his mission is over, I will meet him." "He is a knight of a great family; he will not encounter everybody," answered Powala. "What? Do I not wear a girdle and spurs? Even a prince may meet me." "That is true; but do not tell him that, unless he mentions it himself; I am afraid he will become angry if you do. Well, may God help you!" "I am going to humiliate myself for your sake," said Macko to Zbyszko; "wait awhile!" He approached the Knight of the Cross who had remained motionless on his enormous stallion, looking like an iron statue, and had listened with the greatest indifference to the preceding conversation. Macko having learned German during the long wars, began to explain to the _comthur_ in his own language what had happened; he excused the boy on account of his youth and violent temper, and said that it had seemed to the boy as though God himself had sent the knight wearing a peacock tuft, and finally he begged forgiveness for the offence. The _comthur's_ face did not move. Calm and haughty he looked at Macko with his steely eyes with great indifference, but also with great contempt. The _wlodyka_ of Bogdaniec noticed this. His words continued to be courteous but his soul began to rebel. He talked with increasing constraint and his swarthy face flushed. It was evident that in the presence of this haughty pride, Macko was endeavoring to restrain his anger. Powala having noticed this, and having a kind heart, determined to help Macko. He had learned to speak German while seeking knightly adventures at the Hungarian, Burgundian and Bohemian courts, when he was young. Therefore he now said in that language in a conciliatory but jesting tone: "You see, sir, the noble _comthur_ thinks that the whole affair is unimportant. Not only in our kingdom but in every country the youths are slightly crazy; but such a noble knight does not fight children, neither by sword nor by law." Lichtenstein touched his yellow moustache and moved on without a word, passing Macko and Zbyszko. A dreadful wrath began to raise the hair under their helmets, and their hands grasped their swords. "Wait, you scoundrel!" said the elder _wlodyka_ through his set teeth; "now I will make a vow to you. I will seek you as soon as you have finished your mission." But Powala, whose heart began to bleed also, said: "Wait! Now the princess must speak in favor of the boy; otherwise, woe to him!" Having said this, he followed the Knight of the Cross, stopped him and for a while they talked with great animation. Macko and Zbyszko noticed that the German knight did not look at Powala so proudly as he had at them; this made them still more angry. After a while, Powala returned and said to them: "I tried to intercede for you, but he is a hard man. He said that he would not complain to the king if you would do what he requires." "What?" "He said thus: 'I will stop to greet the Princess of Mazowsze; let them come, dismount, take off their helmets, and standing on the ground with uncovered heads, ask my forgiveness.'" Here Powala looked sharply at Zbyszko, and added: "I know it will be hard for people of noble birth to do this; but I must warn you, that if you refuse no one knows what you may expect,--perhaps the executioner's sword." The faces of Macko and Zbyszko became like stone. There was silence. "What then?" asked Powala. Zbyszko answered quietly and with great dignity as though during this conversation he had grown twenty years older: "Well, God's might is over all!" "What do you mean?" "I mean, that even if I had two heads and the executioner was going to cut off both, still I have only one honor which I will not stain." Powala became grave and turning toward Macko, asked: "And what do you say?" "I say," answered Macko gloomily, "that I reared this youth from childhood. On him depends our family, because I am old; but he cannot do what the German asks, even if he must perish." Here his grim face began to quiver and finally his love for his nephew burst forth with such strength, that he seized the boy in his arms, and began to shout: "Zbyszku! Zbyszku!"[31] The young knight was surprised and having returned his uncle's embrace, said: "Aj! I did not know that you loved me so much." "I see that you are both true knights," said Powala; "and as the young man has promised me upon his knightly honor, that he will appear at the court, I will not imprison him; one can trust such people as you. No more gloomy thoughts! The German intends to stay in Tyniec a day or two; therefore I will have an opportunity to see the king first, and I will try to tell him about this affair in such a way that his anger will not be aroused. I am glad I succeeded in breaking the spear in time,--great luck, I tell you!" But Zbyszko said: "Even if I had to lay down my life, I would like at least to have the satisfaction of breaking his bones." "It surprises me that you who know how to defend your own honor, do not understand that you would thus disgrace our whole nation!" impatiently answered Powala. "I understand it very well," said Zbyszko; "but I regret my disability just the same." Powala turned toward Macko: "Do you know, sir, that if this lad succeeds in escaping the penalty for his offence, then you ought to put a cowl like a hawk's on his head! Otherwise he will not die a natural death." "He will escape if you, sir, will not say anything to the king about the occurrence." "And what shall we do with the German? We cannot tie his tongue." "That is true! That is true!" Talking thus, they went back toward the princess' retinue. Powala's servants followed them. From afar one could see amidst the Mazovian caps, the quivering peacock feathers of the Knight of the Cross and his bright helmet shining in the sun. "Strange is the nature of a _Krzyzak_," said the knight of Taczew. "When a _Krzyzak_ is in a tight place, he will be as forbearing as a Franciscan monk, as humble as a lamb and as sweet as honey; in fact, it would be difficult to find a better man. But let him feel power behind him; then nobody will be more arrogant and merciless. It is evident that God gave them stones for hearts. I have seen many different nations and I have often witnessed a true knight spare another who was weaker, saying to himself; 'My fame will not increase if I trample this fallen foe.' But at such a time a _Krzyzak_ is implacable. Hold him by the throat, otherwise woe to you! Such a man is that envoy! He wanted not only an apology, but also your humiliation. But I am glad he failed." "He can wait!" exclaimed Zbyszko. "Be careful not to show him that you are troubled, because then he would rejoice." After these words they approached the retinue and joined the princess' court. The envoy of the _Krzyzaks_, having noticed them, immediately assumed an expression of pride and disdain; but they ignored him. Zbyszko stood at Danusia's side and began to tell her that from the hill one could see Krakow; at the same time Macko was telling one of the _rybalts_ about the extraordinary strength of the Pan of Taczew, who had broken the spear in Zbyszko's hand, as though it were a dry stem. "And why did he break it?" asked the _rybalt_. "Because the boy in fun attacked the German." The _rybalt_, being a nobleman, did not consider such an attack a joke; but seeing that Macko spoke about it lightly, did not take it seriously either. The German was annoyed by such conduct. He glanced at Macko and Zbyszko. Finally be realized that they did not intend to dismount and that they did not propose to pay any attention to him. Then something like steel shone in his eyes, and he immediately began to bid the princess adieu. The Lord of Taczew could not abstain from deriding him and at the moment of departure he said to him: "Go without fear, brave knight. The country is quiet and nobody will attack you, except some careless child." "Although the customs of this country are strange, I was seeking your company and not your protection," answered Lichtenstein; "I expect to meet you again at the court and elsewhere." In the last words a hidden menace rang; therefore Powala answered gravely: "If God will permit." Having said this, he saluted and turned away; then he shrugged his shoulders and said in an undertone, but loud enough to be heard by those who were near: "Gaunt! I could lift you from the saddle with the point of my spear, and hold you in the air during three _pater-nosters_."[32] Then he began to talk with the princess with whom he was very well acquainted. Anna Danuta asked him what he was doing on the highway. He told her that the king had commanded him to keep order in the environs while there were so many wealthy guests going to Krakow. Then he told her about Zbyszko's foolish conduct. But having concluded that there would be plenty of time to ask the princess to protect Zbyszko, he did not put any stress on the incident, not wishing to spoil the gaiety. The princess laughed at the boy, because he was so anxious to obtain the peacock tuft; the others, having learned about the breaking of the spear, admired the Lord of Taczew very much, especially as he did it with one hand only. And he, being a little vain, was pleased because they praised him.