Joan of the Sword Hand

by S. R. Crockett

  CHAPTER XLIX

  THE WOOING OF BORIS AND JORIAN

  "Jorian," said Boris, adjusting his soft underjerkin before putting onhis body armour, "thou art the greatest fool in the world!"

  "Hold hard, Boris," answered Jorian. "Honour to whom honour--thou artgreater by at least a foot than I!"

  "Well," said the long man, "let us not quarrel about the breadth of afinger-nail. At any rate, we two are the greatest fools in the world."

  "There are others," said Jorian, jerking his thumb over his shoulder inthe direction of the women's apartments.

  "None so rounded and tun-bellied with folly!" cried Boris, withdecision. "No two donkeys so thistle-fed as we--to have the command offive hundred good horsemen, and the chances of as warm a fight as everclosed----"

  "That is just it," cried Jorian; "our Hugo had no business to forbid usto engage in the open before he should come."

  "'Hold the city.' quoth he, shaking that great head of his. 'I know notthe sort of general this priest-knight may be, and till I know I willnot have my Palace Guard flung like a can of dirty water in the face ofthe Muscovites. Therefore counsel the Prince to stand on the defensivetill I come.'"

  "And rightly spoke the son of the Red Axe," assented Boris; "only ourgood Hugo should have sent other men than you and me to command in sucha campaign. We never could let well alone all the days of us."

  "Save in the matter of marriage or no marriage!" smiled Boris grimly.

  "A plague on all women!" growled the little fat man, his rubicund andshining face lined with unaccustomed discontent. "A plague on all women,I say! What can this Theresa von Lynar want in the Muscovite camp, thatwe must promise to convey her safe through the fortifications, and thenput her into Prince Wasp's hands?"

  "Think you that for some hatred of our Joan--you remember that night atIsle Rugen--or some purpose of her own (she loves not the PrincessMargaret either), this Theresa would betray the city to the enemy?"

  "Tush!" Jorian had lost his temper and answered crossly. "In that case,would she have called us in? It were easy enough to find some traitoramong these Courtlanders, who, to obtain the favour of Prince Louis,would help to bring the Muscovite in. But what, if she were thrice atraitress, would cause her to fix on the two men who of all others wouldnever turn knave and spoil-sport--no, not for a hundred vats of Rhenishbottled by Noah the year after the Flood!"

  "Well," sighed his companion, "'tis well enough said, my excellentJorian, but all this does not advance us an inch. We have promised, andat eleven o' the clock we must go. What hinders, though, that we have abottle of Rhenish now, even though the vintage be younger than you say?Perhaps, however, the patron was more respectable!"

  * * * * *

  Thus in the hall of the men-at-arms in the Castle of Courtland spoke thetwo captains of Plassenburg. All this time they were busy with theirattiring, Boris in especial making great play with a tortoiseshell combamong his tangled locks. Somewhat more spruce was the arraying of ourtwin comrades-in-arms than we have seen it. Perhaps it was the thoughtof the dangerous escort duty upon which they had promised to ventureforth that night; perhaps----

  "May we come in?" cried an arch voice from the doorway. "Ah, we havecaught you! There--we knew it! So said I to my sister not an hour agone.Women may be vain as peacocks, but for prinking, dandifying vanity,commend me to a pair of foreign war-captains. My lords, have you blackedyour eyelashes yet, touched up your eyebrows, scented and waxed those_beautiful_ moustaches? Sister, can you look and live?"

  And to the two soldiers, standing stiff as at attention, with theircombs in their hands, enter the sisters Anna and Martha Pappenheim, morefull of mischief than ever, and entirely unsubdued by the presence ofthe invader at their gates.

  "Russ or Turk, Courtlander or Franconian, Jew, proselyte, or dweller inMesopotamia, all is one to us. So be they are men, we will engage to tiethem about our little fingers!"

  "Why," cried Martha, "whence this grand toilet? We knew not that you hadfriends in the city. And yet they tell me you have been in Courtlandbefore, Sir Boris?"

  "Marthe," cried Anna Pappenheim, with vast pretence of indignation,"what has gotten into you, girl? Can you have forgotten that martialcarriage, those limbs incomparably knit, that readiness of retort anddelicate sparkle of Wendish wit, which set all the table in a roar, andyet never once brought the blush to maiden's cheek? For shame, Marthe!"

  "Ha! ha!" laughed Jorian suddenly, short and sharp, as if a string hadbeen pulled somewhere.

  "Ho! ho!" thus more sonorously Boris.

  Anna Pappenheim caught her skirts in her hand and spun round on her heelon pretence of looking behind her.

  "Sister, what was that?" she cried, spying beneath the settles and upthe wide throat of the chimney. "Methought a dog barked."

  "Or a grey goose cackled!"

  "Or a donkey sang!"

  "Ladies," said Jorian, who, being vastly discomposed, must perforce tryto speak with an affectation of being at his ease, "you are pleased tobe witty."

  "Heaven mend our wit or your judgment!"

  "And we are right glad to be your butts. Yet have we been accountedfellows of some humour in our own country and among men----"

  "Why, then, did you not stay there?" inquired Martha pointedly.

  "It was not Boris and I who could not stay without," retorted Jorian,somewhat nettled, nodding towards the door of the guard-room.

  "Well said!" cried frank Anna. "He had you there, Marthe. Pricked in thewhite! Faith, Sir Jorian pinked us both, for indeed it was we whointruded into these gentlemen's dressing-room. Our excuse is that we aretirewomen, and would fain practise our office when and where we can. OurPrincess hath been wedded and needs us but once a week. Noble Wendishgentlemen, will not you engage us?"

  She clasped her hands, going a step or two nearer Boris as if in appeal.

  "Do, kind sirs," she said, "have pity on two poor girls who have no workto do. Think--we are orphans and far from home!"

  The smiles on the faces of the war-captains broadened. "Ho! ho! Good!"burst out Boris.

  "Ha! ha! Excellent!" assented Jorian, nodding, with his eyes on Martha.

  Anna Pappenheim ran quickly on tip-toe round to Boris's back and peeredbetween his shoulders. Then she ran her eyes down to his heels.

  "Sister," she cried, "_they_ do it. That dreadful noise comes fromsomewhere about them. I distinctly saw their jaws waggle. They must of asurety be wound up like an arbalist. Yet I cannot find the string andtrigger! Do come and help me, good Marthe! If you find it, I will danceat your wedding in my stocking-feet!"

  And the gay Franconian reached up and pulled a stray tag of Boris'sjerkin, which hung down his back. The knot slipped, and a circlet of redand gold, ragged at the lower edges, came off in her hand, revealing thefact that Boris's noble _soubreveste_ was no more than a fringe ofbroidered collar.

  "Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Jorian irrepressibly. For Boris looked mightilycrestfallen to have his magnificence so rudely dealt with.

  Anna von Pappenheim clapped her hands.

  "I have found it," she cried. "It goes like this. You touch off thetrigger of one, and the other explodes!"

  Boris wheeled about with fell intent on his face. He would have caughtthe teasing minx in his arms, but Anna skipped round behind a chair andthreatened him with her finger.

  "Not till you engage us," she cried. "Hands off, there! We are to arrayyou--not you to disarray us!"

  Whereat the two gamesome Southlanders stood together in ludicrousimitation of Boris and Jorian's military stiffness, folding their handsmeekly and casting their eyes downward like a pair of most ingenuousnovices listening to the monitions of their Lady Superior. Then Anna'svoice was heard speaking with almost incredible humility.

  "Will my lord with the hook nose so great and noble deign to express apreference which of us shall be his handmaid?"

  But they had ventured an inch too far. The string was effectually pullednow.

  "I
will have this one--she is so merry!" cried solemn Boris, seizingAnna Pappenheim about the waist.

  "And I this! She pretendeth melancholy, yet has tricks like a monkey!"said Jorian, quickly following his example. The girls fended themgallantly, yet, as mayhap they desired, their case was hopeless.

  "Hands off! I will not be called 'this one,'" cried Anna, though she didnot struggle too vehemently.

  "Nor I a monkey! Let me go, great Wend!" chimed Martha, resigningherself as soon as she had said it.

  In this prosperous estate was the courtship of Franconia andPlassenburg, when some instinct drew the eyes of Jorian to the door ofthe officers' guard-room, which Anna had carefully left open at herentrance, in order to secure their retreat.

  The Duchess Joan stood there silent and regardant.

  "Boris!" cried Jorian warningly. Boris lifted his eyes from the smilingchallenge upon Anna's upturned lips, which, after the manner of yourwar-captains, he was stooping to kiss.

  Unwillingly Boris lifted his eyes. The next moment both the late envoysof Plassenburg were saluting as stiffly as if they had still beenmen-at-arms, while Anna and Martha, blushing divinely, were busy withtheir needlework in the corner, as demure as cats caught sipping cream.

  Joan looked at the four for a while without speaking.

  "Captains Boris and Jorian," she said sternly, "a messenger has comefrom Prince Conrad to say that the Muscovites press him hard. He asksfor instant reinforcements. There is not a man fit for duty within thecity saving your command. Will you take them to the Prince's assistanceimmediately? Werner von Orseln fights by his side. Maurice and myKernsbergers are already on their way."

  The countenances of the two Plassenburg captains fell as the leathernscreen drops across a cathedral door through which the evening sunshinehas been streaming.

  "My lady, it is heartbreaking, but we cannot," said Boris dolefully."Our Lord Prince Hugo bade us keep the city till he should arrive!"

  "But I am Governor. I will keep the city," cried Joan; "the women willmount halberd and carry pike. Go to the Prince! Were Hugo of Plassenburghere he would be the first to march! Go, I order you! Go, I beseechyou!"

  She said the last words in so changed a tone that Boris looked at her insurprise.

  But still he shook his head.

  "It is certain that if Prince Hugo were here he would be the first toride to the rescue. But Prince Hugo is not here, and my comrade and Iare soldiers under orders!"

  "Cowards!" flashed Joan, "I will go myself. The cripples, the halt, andthe blind shall follow me. Thora of Bornheim and these maidens there,they shall follow me to the rescue of their Prince. Do you, brave men ofPlassenburg, cower behind the walls while the Muscovite overwhelms alland the true Prince is slain!"

  And at this her voice broke and she sobbed out, "Cowards! cowards!cowards! God preserve me from cowardly men!"

  For at such times and in such a cause no woman is just. For which highHeaven be thanked!

  Boris looked at Jorian. Jorian looked at Boris.

  "No, madam," said Boris gravely; "your servants are no cowards. It istrue that we were commanded by our master to keep his Palace Guardwithin the city walls, and these must stay. But we two are in some sensestill Envoys Extraordinary, and not strictly of the Prince's PalaceGuard. As Envoys, therefore, charged with a free commission in theinterests of peace, we can without wrongdoing accompany you whither youwill. Eh, Jorian?"

  "Aye," quoth Jorian; "we are at her Highness's service till ten o' theclock."

  "And why till ten?" asked Joan, turning to go out.

  "Oh," returned Jorian, "there is guard-changing and other matters to seeto. But there is time for a wealth of fighting before ten. Lead on,madam. We follow your Highness!"