The Knights of the Cross/Volume 1/Chapter 10

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

CHAPTER X.

Yagenka herself melted out a large pot of bear's fat, the first quart of which Matsko drank with pleasure, for it was fresh, not burnt, and had the odor of angelica, which the girl, skilled in plants, had added to the pot in measure. Matsko was strengthened in spirit at once, and received hope of recovery.

"That was needed," said he. " When everything inside is oiled properly, that dog mother of an arrow-point may slip out of me somewhere."

The succeeding quarts did not taste so well to him as the first, but he drank because of good sense. Yagenka comforted him too, saying,—

"You will recover. Zbilud of Ostrog had a link of armor driven deeply into his shoulder, and it came out from bear's fat. But when the wound opens one must stop it with beaver fat."

"Hast thou that fat?"

"We have. If fresh fat is needed we can go with Zbyshko to the beaver dam. It is not hard to get beavers. But it would be no harm either, if you would make a vow to some saint who is a patron of the wounded."

"That came to my head also, but I know not well to what saint. Saint George is the patron of knights. He guards a warrior from accidents, and in need gives him valor; they say that often in his own person he stands on the just side and helps to conquer those who are hateful to God. But a saint who fights gladly is rarely willing to cure, and there is perhaps another with whom he would interfere if he did so. Every saint has his own work in heaven, his own management—that we understand. One of them never meddles with another, for disagreements might spring up, and in heaven it would not befit saints to dispute or to quarrel. There are Cosmo and Damian, great saints too; to these doctors pray, so that disease may not vanish from the earth; if it did doctors would have no subsistence. There is also Saint Appolonia for teeth, and Saint Laborious for the gravel—but all this is not to the point! The abbot will come and tell me to whom I should turn, for not every common priest knows all God's secrets, and not every one knows such things though he have a shaven head."

"But might you not make a vow to the Lord Jesus himself?"

"Certainly, because He is above all. But that would be as if, for example, thy father killed a peasant of mine and I should go with a complaint to the king at Cracow. What would the king say? He would say this to me: 'I am master over the whole kingdom, and thou comest to me with thy peasant! Are there not officials? Canst thou not go to the town, to my castellan, and my intermediary?' The Lord Jesus is master over the whole world—dost understand? but for small affairs He has saints."

"Then I will tell you what," said Zbyshko, who came in at the end of the conversation," make a vow to our late queen that, if she acts for you, you will make a pilgrimage to her tomb in Cracow; are the miracles few that were performed in our presence there? Why seek foreign saints when we have our own lady, who is better than others?"

"True! If I knew that she was for wounds."

"And if she is not for wounds! No common saint will dare refuse her, and should he refuse she will get what she asks from the Lord God, for she is no ordinary weaver woman, but the Queen of Poland."

"Who brought the last pagan land to the Christian faith. Thou hast spoken wisely," said Matsko. "She must stand high in God's counsels, and it is certain that no common person will contradict her. So, to gain health, I will do as thou sayest."

This advice pleased also Yagenka, who could not refrain from admiring Zbyshko's good sense; and Matsko made a solemn vow that same evening, and thenceforth drank bear's fat with still greater confidence, waiting from day to day for unfailing recovery. But in a week he began to lose hope. He said that the fat was "storming," in his stomach, and on his skin near the last rib something was rising which looked like a knob. After ten days he was still worse; the lump increased and grew red; Matsko was very weak, and when a fever came he began to prepare again for death. On a certain night he roused Zbyshko on a sudden.

"Light the torch quickly," said he, "for something is happening me,—whether good or bad, I know not."

Zbyshko sprang to his feet, and, without striking a flint, blew a fire in the next room, lighted a pine torch and returned.

"What is the matter?"

"What is the matter with me? Something has pricked through the knob! Surely an arrow-head! I hold it! I cannot pull it out, but I feel it clink and move."

"The point! nothing else. Catch it firmly and pull."

Matsko squirmed and hissed from pain, but he thrust his fingers deeper and deeper till he held the hard object firmly; then he dragged and pulled.

"O Jesus!"

"You have it? " asked Zbyshko.

"I have. Cold sweat has come out on me. But here it is! Look!"

He showed Zbyshko a long, sharp splinter which had broken from the badly bound arrow and had stuck for some months in his body.

"Glory to God and Queen Yadviga! You will get well now."

"Perhaps; I am relieved, but I feel terrible pain," answered Matsko, squeezing the sore, from which blood mixed with matter flowed abundantly. "The less of this vileness there is in a man, the more must sickness leave him. Yagenka said that now we must apply beaver's fat."

"We will go for a beaver to-morrow."

Next day Matsko grew notably better. He slept till late, and on waking called for food. He could not look at bear's fat, but they broke up twenty eggs to be fried for him, as through caution Yagenka would not permit more. He ate these with relish, together with half a loaf of bread, and drank a pot of beer. He asked to bring Zyh then, for he felt joyous.

Zbyshko sent one of his Turks for Zyh, who mounted a horse and came before mid-day, just when the young people were preparing to go to Odstayani Lake for a beaver. At first there was laughing, joking, and singing over mead beyond measure, but later the old men talked of the children, and each praised his own.

"What a man that Zbyshko is," said Matsko; "in the world there is not another such. He is brave, he is as nimble as a wild cat, and skilful. And, do you know, when they were leading him to death in Cracow the girls in the windows were squealing as if some one behind were sticking awls into them; and what girls! the daughters of knights and castellans, not to mention various wonderful daughters of citizens."

"Let them be daughters of castellans, and wonderful, but they are not better than my Yagenka," said Zyh.

"Do I tell you that they are better? A nicer girl to people than Yagenka could not be found, I think."

"Neither do I say anything against Zbyshko; he can draw a crossbow without a crank."

"And will prop up a bear himself alone. Have you seen how he cut him? Split off his head and one paw."

"He knocked off his head, but he did not prop him alone. Yagenka helped him."

"Did she help him? He did not tell me that."

"For he promised her—because the girl was ashamed to go at night to the forest. She told me right away how it was. Others would be glad to invent, but she will not hide the truth. Speaking sincerely I was not pleased, for who knows— I wanted to shout at her, but she said: 'If I cannot guard myself, you, papa, will not guard me;' but never fear, Zbyshko knows also what knightly honor is."

"That is true."

"They have gone alone to-day."

"But they will come back in the evening. The devil is worse at night; girls need not be ashamed then, for it is dark."

Matsko thought a while, then said, as if to himself,—

"But in every case they are glad to see each other."

"Oh, if he had not made a vow to that other one!"

"That, as you know, is a knightly custom. Whoso among young men has not his lady is looked on by others as a simpleton. He has vowed peacock-plumes, and he must get them, for he has sworn on his knightly honor; he must also get Lichtenstein, but the abbot may free him from other vows."

"The abbot will come any day."

"Do you think so?" inquired Matsko. "But what is such a vow when Yuraud told him directly that he would not give the girl. Whether he had promised her to another, or devoted her to the service of God, I know not, but he said directly that he would not give her."

"I have told you," said Zyh, "that the abbot loves Yagenka as if she were his own. The last time he spoke thus to her: 'I have relatives only by the distaff,^[1] but by that distaff there will be more threads for thee than for them.'"

At this Matsko looked with alarm, and even suspiciously, at Zyh, and answered only after a while,—

"Still you wish no injustice to us."

"Mochydoly will go with Yagenka," said Zyh, evasively.

"Right away?"

"Right away. I would not give it to another, but I will to her."

"As things stand, half Bogdanets is Zbyshko's, and if God grant health I will work for him, as is proper. Do you like Zbyshko?"

At this Zyh began to blink, and said,—

"The worst is that, when Zbyshko is mentioned, Yagenka turns to the wall that moment."

"And when you mention others?"

"When I mention another she just flies up, and says: 'What?'"

"Well now, do you see? God grant that with such a girl Zbyshko will forget the other. I am old, and I too would forget. Will you drink some mead?"

"I will drink some."

"Well, the abbot there is a wise man for you! Among abbots there are, as you know, laymen; but this abbot, though he does not live among monks, is a priest, and a priest always gives better counsel than a common man, for he understands reading, and he is near the Holy Ghost. But you will give the girl Mochydoly immediately—that is right. And I, if the Lord Jesus give me health, will entice his people away from Vilk of Brozova as far as I am able. I will give good land by lot to each man, for in Bogdanets there is no lack of land. Let them bow down to Vilk on Christmas and then come to me. Are they not free to do so? In time I will build a castle, a nice castle, oak with a moat around it. Let Zbyshko and Yagenka go hunting together now—I think that we shall not wait long for snow. Let them grow accustomed to each other, and the boy will forget that first one. Let them go together. Why talk long over this? Would you give him Yagenka, or would you not?"

"I would give her. Besides, we have long ago arranged that one was for the other, and that Mochydoly and Bogdanets would be for our grandchildren."

"Hail!" cried Matsko, with delight. "God grant them to come like hail! The abbot will christen them."

"If he would come!" cried Zyh, joyously. "But it is long since I have seen you so delighted."

"I am pleased at heart. The splinter has come out; but as to Zbyshko, have no fear of him. Yesterday, when Yagenka was mounting her horse—you know—the wind was blowing. I asked Zbyshko then, 'Didst thou see?' and right away a shiver took him. And I noted too that at first they talked little, but now whenever they walk together they are always turning their heads toward each other, and talking and talking. Drink some more."

"I will drink."

"To the health of Zbyshko and Yagenka!"

1. This means on the female side of the family.