With Fire and Sword

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

  “Sad or not sad, you must stay. When we go to lift birds’ nests out of the trees we will take you, but not this time.”

  “Disgusting to hear you!”

  “Let me kiss you, for joy is in my heart. But stay! one thing more, gentlemen. This affair is of the greatest importance,—a secret. Let it not be known among the soldiers, and go from them to the peasants. Not a word to any man!”

  “Not to the prince?”

  “The prince is not here.”

  “But to Skshetuski, if he comes?”

  “To him especially not a word, for he would race after us at once. He will have time enough to be glad; and God guard us from a new disappointment!—then he would lose his mind. Word of honor, gentlemen!”

  “Word of honor,” said Podbipienta.

  “Word, word!”

  “And now let us thank God.”

  Having said this, Zagloba knelt first, after him the others, and they prayed long and fervently.

  CHAPTER LV.

  The prince had really set out for Zamost a few days before for the purpose of making new levies of troops, and it was not expected that he would return soon. Volodyovski, Zagloba, and Jendzian therefore started on their journey unknown to any one and in the greatest secrecy,—to which only one person in Zbaraj was admitted, Pan Longin; but he, bound by his word, was as silent as if enchanted.

  Vershul and other officers who knew of the princess’s death did not suppose that the departure of the little knight with Zagloba had any connection with the betrothed of the unfortunate Skshetuski, and thought most likely that the two friends had gone to him the more since they had taken Jendzian, who was known to be a servant of Skshetuski.

  They travelled straight to Hlebanovka, and there made preparations for the journey. Zagloba bought first of all, with money borrowed from Pan Longin, five Podolian horses, capable of long journeys. Horses of this breed were used by the Polish cavalry and the Cossacks; they could chase a whole day after a Tartar pony, surpassed in speed even the Turkish horses, and endured better every change of weather and cold, and rainy nights. Five such coursers did Zagloba purchase; besides he got sufficient Cossack clothing for himself and his comrades, as well as for the princess. Jendzian busied himself with the packs; and when all was provided and ready they started on the road, putting their undertaking under the guardianship of God and Saint Nikolai, the patron of young ladies.

  So disguised, it was easy to take them for Cossack atamans, and frequently it happened that soldiers from Polish garrisons fastened on them, and guards scattered as far as Kamenyets; but Zagloba explained himself to them easily. They went for a long time through a safe country; for it was occupied by the squadrons of the commander Lantskoronski, which approached slowly toward Bar, in order to keep an eye on the Cossack bands gathering there. It was known universally that nothing would come of the negotiations. War hung over the country, therefore, though the main forces had not moved yet. The Pereyasláv armistice ended at Whitsuntide; partisan warfare, it is true, had not ended at any time. Now it increased, and both sides were only waiting the word.

  At that time spring was rejoicing over the steppe. The earth which had been trampled by the hoofs of horses was now covered with a brocade of grass and flowers which had grown up from the bodies of the slain. Above battle-fields the lark pierced the azure of the heavens; various birds coursed through the air with their cries; the overflowed waters rippled in pools under the warm breath of the wind, and in the evenings the frogs swimming in the tepid water carried on joyous converse till late at night.

  It seemed that Nature herself was eager to heal the wounds and cure the pains, to hide the graves beneath flowers. It was bright in the heavens, and on the earth fresh, breezy, gladsome; and the whole steppe, as if painted, glittered like an asphodel meadow, changed like the rainbow or like a Polish girdle on which the skilled needlewoman has joined all colors with exquisite taste. The steppe was full of the play of birds, and the broad breeze passed over it, drying the water and embrowning the faces of men.

  At such a time every heart rejoices, and is filled with measureless hope. Our knights therefore were full of just such hope. Volodyovski sang continually. Zagloba straightened himself on the horse, put his shoulders with delight to the sun, and as soon as he was well warmed, said to the little knight,—

  “I feel well; for, to tell the truth, next to mead and Hungarian wine there is nothing like the sun for old bones.”

  “It is good for everything,” answered Volodyovski. “Just see how animals love to warm themselves in the sun!”

  “It is lucky that we are going for the princess at such a time, for in the frosts of winter it would have been difficult to escape with the girl.”

  “Let us only get her into our hands, and I am a rascal if any man gets her away from us. I tell you, Pan Michael, I have only one fear, and that is in case of war the Tartars might move in those regions and snap us up; for we can get on with the Cossacks. We will give no account whatever to the peasants, for you have noticed that they take us for starshini; the Zaporojians respect the batons, and the name of Bogun will be a shield to us.”

  “I am acquainted with the Tartars, for while in the Lubni domains life passed in endless disputes with them. Vershul and I never had rest,” answered Pan Michael.

  “And I know them,” said Zagloba. “I have told you how I passed several years in their company and might have risen to great dignities among them, but since I didn’t wish to become a mussulman I had to leave all. Besides, they wanted to inflict a martyr’s death on me because I was persuading their principal mulla to the true faith.”

  “But you said some other time that that was in Galáts.”

  “Galáts in its own way, and the Crimea in its own. But if you think the world ends in Galáts, then surely you don’t know where pepper grows. There are more sons of Belial than Christians in this world.”

  Here Jendzian broke into the conversation. “Not only may we receive harm from Tartars,” said he, “but I have not informed you that Bogun told me that unclean powers are guarding that ravine. The giantess herself who guards the princess is a powerful witch, intimate with devils who may warn her against us. I have, it is true, a bullet, which I moulded on consecrated wheat, for a common one would not take her; but besides there are probably whole regiments of vampires who guard the entrance. It is for your heads to see that no harm comes to me; if it should, my reward would be lost.”

  “Oh, you drone!” said Zagloba. “We have nothing to think of but your safety. The devil won’t twist your neck; and even if he should it is all one, for you will go to hell anyhow for your covetousness. I’m too old a sparrow to be caught with chaff; and beat into yourself that if she is a powerful witch I am a more powerful wizard, for I learned the black art in Persia. She serves the devils, and they serve me, and I could plough with them as with oxen; but I don’t want to do so, keeping in mind, as I do, the salvation of my own soul.”

  “That is well, my master; but for this time use your power, for it is always better to be on the safe side.”

  “But I have more confidence in our just cause and the protection of God,” said Volodyovski. “Let the devils be the guard of Horpyna and Bogun, but with us are the angels of heaven, whom the best brigade in hell cannot withstand. On our behalf I make an offering of seven white wax candles to Saint Michael the Archangel.”

  “Then I will add one more,” said Jendzian, “so that Pan Zagloba shouldn’t frighten me with damnation.”

  “I will be the first to pack you off to hell,” said the noble, “if it should appear that you don’t know the places well.”

  “Why shouldn’t I know? If we only reach Valadinka, I can find the place with my eyes bound. We will go along the shore toward the Dniester, and on the right hand will be the ravine, which we shall recognize by this, that the entrance to it is closed with a rock. At the first glance
it will seem altogether impossible of entrance, but in the rock is an opening through which two horses can pass abreast. Once inside, no one can escape us, for that is the only entrance and exit. All around, the sides are so high that a bird can barely fly over them. The witch kills people who enter without permission, and there are many bones of men inside. Bogun gave orders not to notice these, but to ride on and shout: ‘Bogun! Bogun!’ Then she will come out to us with friendship. Besides Horpyna, there is Cheremís, who is a good marksman. We must kill them both.”

  “I say nothing about Cheremís, but it will be enough to tie the woman.”

  “How could you tie her? She is so strong that she tears armor to pieces like a shirt, and a horseshoe crumbles in her hand. Pan Podbipienta might possibly overpower her, but not we. But leave the matter; I have a consecrated bullet. Let the black hour come on that she-devil; otherwise she would fly after us like a wolf, and would howl to the Cossacks, and we should fail to bring back not only the young lady, but our own heads.”

  In such conversation and counsels their time passed on the road. They travelled hurriedly, passing villages, hamlets, farms, and grave-mounds. They went through Yarmolintsi to Bar, from where they were to advance in the direction of Yampol and the Dniester. They went through the neighborhood in which Volodyovski had defeated Bogun and freed Zagloba from his hands; they even came to the same farm and stopped there over night. Sometimes they slept under the open sky in the steppes, and Zagloba enlivened these halting-places by narratives of his previous adventures, some of which had happened and some of which had never taken place. But the conversations were mostly about the princess and her coming liberation from captivity with the witch.

  Issuing at length from the regions held in curb by the garrisons and squadrons of Lantskoronski, they entered the Cossack country, in which nothing remained of the Poles, for those who had not fled were exterminated by fire and sword. May had departed, followed by a sultry June, while they had barely finished a third of the journey, for the road was long and difficult. Happily no danger threatened them from the side of the Cossacks. They gave no account of themselves to the peasant parties, who usually took them for Zaporojian starshini. Still, they were asked from time to time who they were. Zagloba, if the inquirer was from the lower country, showed Bogun’s baton; if a common murderer from the mob, then, without getting from the horse, he struck the man with his foot in the breast and knocked him to the ground. The bystanders, seeing this, opened a way for them, thinking that they were not only their own, but also very distinguished, since they struck people,—"perhaps Krívonos, Burlai, or Father Hmelnitski himself.”

  Zagloba complained greatly of the fame of Bogun, for the Zaporojians annoyed him too much with inquiries about the chief, through which delays on the road were not infrequent. And generally there was no end to the questions,—whether he was well, or alive, for the report of his death had spread as far as Yagorlik and the Cataracts. But when the travellers declared that he was well and free, and that they were his messengers, they were kissed and honored; all hearts were open to them, and even purses, of which the cunning servant of Skshetuski did not omit to take advantage.

  In Yampol they were received by Burlai who with Zaporojian troops and the rabble was waiting for the Tartars of Budjak. This was an old and distinguished colonel. Years before he had taught Bogun his military craft. He went on expeditions over the Black Sea with him, and in one of these expeditions the two had plundered Sinope in company. He loved him therefore as a son, and received his messengers with gladness, not exhibiting the least distrust, especially since he had seen Jendzian with Bogun the previous year. But when he learned that Bogun was alive and going to Volynia, from joy he gave a feast to the messengers and drank with them himself.

  Zagloba was afraid that Jendzian, when he had drunk wine, might say something dangerous; but it turned out that the youth, cunning as a fox, knew how to manage, so that speaking the truth only when practicable, he did not imperil their affair, but won still greater confidence. It was strange, however, for our knights to hear those conversations carried on with such terrible sincerity in which their own names were repeated so often.

  “We heard,” said Burlai, “that Bogun was slain in a duel. And don’t you know who cut him?”

  “Volodyovski, an officer of Prince Yeremi,” answered Jendzian, calmly.

  “If I could get my hands on Volodyovski, I would pay him for our falcon. I’d pull him out of his skin.”

  Volodyovski at this moved his oat-colored mustaches, and looked at Burlai with such a look as a hound gives a wolf which he is not permitted to seize by the throat; and Jendzian said,—

  “That’s why I give you his name, Colonel.”

  “The devil will have real fun with that fellow Jendzian,” thought Zagloba.

  “But,” continued Jendzian, “he is not so much to blame himself, for Bogun challenged him without knowing what a sabre he was summoning. There was another noble there, the greatest enemy of Bogun, who had once snatched the princess from his hands.”

  “And who is he?”

  “Oh, he is an old sot who used to hang around our ataman in Chigirin and pretend to be his best friend.”

  “He’ll hang yet!” shouted Burlai.

  “I’m a fool if I don’t cut the ears off that puppy!” muttered Zagloba.

  “They so cut him up,” continued Jendzian, “that another in his place would have been eaten by the crows long ago; but there is a horned soul in our ataman, and he recovered, though he barely dragged himself to Vlodava; and there he would have failed surely but for us. We helped him off to Volynia, where our people have the upper hand, and he sent us here for the princess.”

  “These women will be the death of him,” muttered Burlai. “I told him that long ago. Would it not have been better for him to take a girl in Cossack fashion, and then a stone around her neck and into the water, as we did in the Black Sea?”

  Here Volodyovski scarcely restrained himself, so wounded was he in his feeling for the sex; but Zagloba laughed, and said: “Surely it would have been better.”

  “But you were old friends,” said Burlai, “you did not desert him in need; and you, boy [here lie turned to Jendzian], you are the best of them all, for I saw in Chigirin how you nursed and cared for our falcon. I am your friend for that. Tell me what you want,—men or horses? I’ll give them to you, so that no harm may meet you on the return.”

  “We do not need men,” said Zagloba, “for we shall go through our own country and among our own people, and God keep us from evil adventure! It is worse with a large party than with a small one; but some of the swiftest horses would be of service.”

  “I’ll give you such that the ponies of the Khan would not overtake them.”

  Jendzian now spoke up, not to lose an opportunity: “And give us a little money, Ataman, for we have none, and beyond Bratslav a measure of oats is a thaler.”

  “Then come with me to the storeroom,” said Burlai.

  Jendzian didn’t let this be said twice, and disappeared through the door with the old colonel; and when after a while he returned joy was beaming from his round face, and his blue coat was bulging out over his stomach.

  “Well, go with God,” said the old Cossack; “and when you get the girl stop in to see me, so that I may look at Bogun’s cuckoo.”

  “Impossible, Colonel,” said the youth, boldly; “for that Pole is terribly afraid, and once stabbed herself with a knife. We are afraid that something evil may happen to her. Better let the ataman manage her himself.”

  “He will manage her; she won’t be afraid of him. The Pole is white-handed, doesn’t like the Cossacks,” muttered Burlai. “Go! God be with you! You haven’t far now.”

  From Yampol to Valadinka it was not so very far; but the road was difficult, or rather a continual absence of roads stretched before the knights; for at that time those regions were still a de
sert, with rarely a house or a dwelling. They went then from Yampol somewhat to the west, withdrawing from the Dniester, to go afterward with the course of the Valadinka toward Kashkoff; for only thus could they strike the ravine. Light was growing in the heavens; for the feast at Burlai’s had lasted till late at night, and Zagloba calculated that they would not find the ravine before sundown; but that was exactly what he wanted, for he wished after freeing Helena, to leave the night behind him. While they were travelling they spoke of how fortune had favored them so far in everything along the whole road; and Zagloba, mentioning the feast with Burlai, said,—

  “See how those Cossacks who live in brotherhood uphold one another in every trouble! I do not speak of the mob,—whom they despise, and for whom, if the devil helps them to throw off our dominion, they will be still worse masters than the Poles; but in the Brotherhood one is ready to jump into the fire for another, not like our nobles.”

  “Not at all, my master,” said Jendzian. “I was among them a long time, and I saw how they tear one another like wolves; and if Hmelnitski were gone, who sometimes by power, sometimes by policy, keeps them in check, they would devour one another. But this Burlai is a great warrior among them, and Hmelnitski himself respects him.”