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

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The Knights of the Cross, or, Krzyzacy: Historical Romance Page 53

by Henryk Sienkiewicz


  CHAPTER VII.

  Zbyszko gave orders for him to be laid upon one of the captured wagonswhich were laden with spare wheels and axles for the expedition coming torelieve the castle. He mounted another horse, and with Macko theycontinued the pursuit of the fleeing Germans. It was not a difficultpursuit, because the German horses were not speedy enough, particularlyupon the ground softened by the spring rains, more especially for Macko,who had with him a light and fleet mare which belonged to the deceased_wlodyka_ of Lenkawice. After a distance of several furlongs he passedalmost all the Zmudzians. He soon reached the first German trooper, whomhe at once challenged according to the then prevailing custom among theknights, to surrender or fight. But the German feigned deafness. He eventhrew away his shield to relieve the horse, and bent in the saddle andspurred his horse. The old knight struck him with his broad axe betweenthe shoulder-blades, and he fell to the ground.

  Thus Macko avenged himself upon the fleeing Germans for the treacherousshot he had once received. They ran before him like a herd of frighteneddeer. They had no thought of continuing the fight or defendingthemselves, but of fleeing before that terrible man. Some dashed into theforest, but one stuck fast near the stream: him the Zmudzians strangledwith a halter. Then a hunt as if after wild beasts began after the crowdof fugitives which sprang into the woods.

  The depths of the forests rang with the shouts of the hunters and theshrieks of the hunted until the latter were exterminated. Then the oldknight, accompanied by Zbyszko and the Bohemian, returned to thebattlefield upon which lay the hacked bodies of the German infantry. Theywere already stripped naked. Some were mutilated by the revengefulZmudzians. It was an important victory, and the soldiers were drunk withjoy. After the last defeat suffered by Skirwoilla near Gotteswerder, asort of apathy had seized the Zmudzians, more especially because thepromised relief from Prince Witold had not yet arrived as quickly asexpected. However, now hope revived and the fire was kindled anew as whenwood is thrown upon glowing embers. The number of slain Germans, as wellas Zmudzians to be buried, was very great, but Zbyszko ordered a specialgrave to be dug for the _wlodykas_ of Lenkawice, who contributed so muchtoward the victory. They were buried there among the pine-trees, andZbyszko cut a cross with his sword upon the bark. Then he ordered theBohemian to keep watch over de Lorche who was still unconscious; hestirred up the people and hurried on along the road toward Skirwoilla tolend him affective assistance in case of emergency.

  But after a long march he came across a deserted battlefield thatresembled the former, being covered with German and Zmudzian corpses. Itwas easy for Zbyszko to conclude that the terrible Skirwoilla had alsogained an equally important victory over the enemy, because if he hadbeen defeated, Zbyszko would have met the victorious Germans marching tothe castle. But the victory must have been a bloody one, because for somedistance a great number of dead were met with. The experienced Macko wasable to deduce from this that some Germans had even succeeded inretreating from the defeat.

  It was difficult to tell whether Skirwoilla was pursuing them or not,because the tracks were mingled and confused. He also concluded that thebattle had taken place quite early, perhaps earlier than Zbyszko's fight,for the corpses were livid and swollen, and some of them torn by wolves,that scattered in the thickets at the approach of armed men.

  In face of these circumstances Zbyszko resolved not to wait forSkirwoilla, but to return to the original safe camp. He arrived therelate at night and found the leader of the Zmudzians who had arrivedsomewhat early. His face, which usually wore a sullen expression, was nowlighted with fiendish joy. He asked at once about the result of thefight, and when he was told of the victory he said in tones that soundedlike the croaking of a crow:

  "I am glad of your victory, and I am glad of mine. They will send no morerelief expeditions for some time, and when the great prince arrives therewill be more joy, for the castle will be ours."

  "Have you taken any prisoners?" inquired Zbyszko.

  "Only small fry, no pike. There was one, there were two but they gotaway. They were pikes with sharp teeth! They cut the people and escaped."

  "God granted me one." replied the young knight. "He is a powerful andrenowned knight, although a Swede--a guest!"

  The terrible Zmudzian raised his hands to his neck and with the righthand made a gesture like the up-jerk of a halter:

  "This shall happen to him," he said, "to him as well as to the otherprisoners ... this!"

  Then Zbyszko's brow furrowed.

  "Listen, Skirwoilla," he said. "Nothing will happen to him, neither_this_ nor _that_ because he is my prisoner and my friend. Prince Januszknighted both of us. I will not even permit you to cut off one fingerfrom his hand."

  "You will not permit?"

  "No, I will not."

  Then they glared fiercely into each other's eyes. Skirwoilla's face wasso much wrinkled that it had the appearance of a bird of prey. Itappeared as if both were about to burst out. But Zbyszko did not want anytrouble with the old leader, whom he prized and respected; moreover hisheart was greatly agitated with the events of the day. He fell suddenlyupon his neck, pressed him to his breast and exclaimed:

  "Do you really desire to tear him from me, and with him my last hope? Whydo you wrong me?"

  Skirwoilla did not repel the embrace. Finally, withdrawing his head fromZbyszko's arm, he looked at him benignantly, breathing heavily.

  "Well," he said, after a moment's silence. "Well, to-morrow I will giveorders for the prisoners to be hanged, but if you want any one of them, Iwill give him to you."

  Then they embraced each other again and parted on good terms--to thegreat satisfaction of Macko, who said:

  "It is obvious that you will never be able to do anything with him byanger, but with kindness you can knead him like wax."

  "Such is the whole nation," replied Zbyszko; "but the Germans do not knowit."

  Then he gave orders for de Lorche, who had taken rest in the booth, to bebrought to the camp-fire. A moment later the Bohemian brought him in; hewas unarmed and without a helmet, having only his leather jacket uponwhich the marks of the coat of mail were visible. He had a red cap on hishead. De Lorche had already been informed by Hlawa that he was a prisonerand therefore he came in looking cool and haughty, and the light of theflames revealed defiance and contempt in his countenance.

  "Thank God," Zbyszko said, "that He delivered you in my hands, becausenothing evil shall happen to you by me."

  Then he extended a friendly hand; but de Lorche did not even move.

  "I decline to give my hand to knights who outrage knightly honor, byjoining pagans in fighting Christian knights."

  One of the Mazovians present, who could not restrain himself, owing toZbyszko's importance, on hearing this became excited and his bloodboiled.

  "Fool!" he shouted and involuntarily grasped the handle of his"_misericordia_."

  But de Lorche lifted up his head.

  "Kill me," he said. "I know that you do not spare prisoners."

  "But, do you spare prisoners?" the Mazur who could not restrain himself,exclaimed: "Did you not hang on the shore of the island all the prisonersyou took in the last fight? That is the reason why Skirwoilla will hangall his prisoners."

  "Yes! they did hang them, but they were pagans."

  There was a certain sense of shame in his reply; it could easily be seenthat he did not entirely approve of such deeds.

  Meanwhile, Zbyszko controlled himself, and in a quiet and dignifiedmanner said:

  "De Lorche, you and I received our belts and spurs from the same hand,you also know well that knightly honor is dearer to me than life andfortune. Listen, therefore, to my words which I say under oath to SaintJerzy: There are many among this people whose Christianity does not datefrom yesterday, and those who have not yet been converted stretch outtheir hands toward the Cross for salvation. But, do you know who hinderthem and prevent their salvation and baptism?"

  The Mazur translated all Zbyszko's words to de Lorche, who loo
ked intothe young knight's face questioningly.

  "The Germans!" said Zbyszko.

  "Impossible," shouted de Lorche.

  "By the spear and spurs of Saint Jerzy, the Germans! Because if thereligion of the Cross were to be propagated here, they would lose apretext for incursions, and domination and oppression of this unhappypeople. You are well acquainted with these facts, de Lorche! You are bestinformed whether their dealings are upright or not."

  "But I think that in fighting with the pagans they are only banishingthem to prepare them for baptism."

  "They are baptizing them with the sword and blood, not with water thatsaves. Read this letter, I pray, and you will be convinced that youyourself are the wrongdoer, plunderer and the hell-_starosta_ of thosewho fight religion and Christian love."

  Then he handed him the letter which the Zmudzians had written to thekings and princes, which was distributed everywhere; de Lorche took itand perused it rapidly by the light of the fire. He was greatlysurprised, and said;

  "Can all that be true?"

  "May God, who sees best, so help you and me that I am not only speakingthe truth but I also serve justice."

  De Lorche was silent for a moment and then said:

  "I am your prisoner."

  "Give me your hand," replied Zbyszko. "You are my brother, not myprisoner."

  Then they clasped hands and sat down in company to supper, which theBohemian ordered the servant to prepare.

  De Lorche was greatly surprised when he was informed on the road thatZbyszko, in spite of his letters, had not got Danusia, and that the_comthurs_ had refused important and safe conduct on account of theoutbreak of the war.

  "Now I understand why you are here," he said to Zbyszko, "and I thank Godthat He delivered me into your hands, because I think that through me theKnights of the Order will surrender to you what you wish. Otherwise therewill be a great outcry in the West, because I am a knight of importanceand come from a powerful family...."

  Then he suddenly threw down his cap and exclaimed:

  "By all the relics of Akwizgran! Then those who were at the head of therelief train to Gotteswerder, were Arnold von Baden and old Zygfried vonLoeve. That we learned from the letters which were sent to the castle.Were they taken prisoners?"

  "No!" said Zbyszko, excitedly. "None of the most important! But, by God!The news you tell me is important. For God's sake, tell me, are thereother prisoners from whom I can learn whether there were any women withZygfried?"

  Then he called the men to bring him lit resinous chips and he hastened towhere the prisoners were gathered by order of Skirwoilla. De Lorche,Macko and the Bohemian ran with him.

  "Listen," said de Lorche to Zbyszko, on the way. "If you will let me freeon parole I will run and seek her throughout the whole of Prussia, andwhen I find her, I will return to you and you will exchange me for her."

  "If she lives! If she lives!" replied Zbyszko.

  Meanwhile they reached the place where Skirwoilla's prisoners were. Somewere lying upon their backs, others stood near the stumps of trees towhich they were cruelly fastened with fibre. The bright flame of thechips illuminated Zbyszko's face. Therefore all the prisoners' looks weredirected toward him.

  Then from the depths of the road there was heard a loud and terriblevoice:

  "My lord and protector! Oh, save me!"

  Zbyszko snatched from the hands of the servant a couple of burning chipsand ran into the forest toward the direction whence the voice proceeded,holding aloft the burning chips, and cried:

  "Sanderus!"

  "Sanderus!" repeated the Bohemian, in astonishment.

  But Sanderus, whose hands were bound to the tree, stretched his neck andbegan to shout again.

  "Mercy!... I know where Jurand's daughter is!... Save me."

 

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