The Knights of the Cross/Volume 2/Chapter 54

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

CHAPTER LIV.

Zbyshko could not overtake his attendant, for Hlava travelled night and day, resting only as much as was absolutely needed to save the horses from falling dead. These beasts, since they ate only grass, were weak and could not go so far through the forests in a day as in places where oats were found easily. Hlava spared not himself, and had no regard for the advanced age and weakness of Siegfried. The old Knight of the Cross suffered terribly, therefore, all the more since the strong Matsko had hurt his bones previously at the tarpit. But most grievous for the old man were the gnats swarming in the damp forests. He could not drive them away, for his hands were tied, and his feet bound under the horse's belly. Hlava did not, it is true, inflict any torture, but he had no pity on Siegfried, and freed his right hand only when they halted for eating. "Eat, wolf snout, so that I may bring thee alive to the master of Spyhov." Such were the words with which he encouraged him to refreshment. At the beginning of that journey the thought had come to Siegfried to kill himself by hunger; but when he heard Hlava say that he would open his teeth with a dagger, and put nourishment down his throat forcibly, he preferred to yield rather than permit insult to his honor as a knight, and his dignity as a member of the Order.

Hlava wished at all costs to reach Spyhov considerably earlier than Zbyshko, so as to save his lady from confusion. He, a petty noble, simple but clever and not deficient in knightly feeling, understood clearly that there would be something of humiliation for Yagenka to be in Spyhov at the same time with Danusia. "We may tell the bishop in Plotsk," thought be, "that the old lord of Bogdanets, because of guardianship, had to take her with him; and then, let it be only mentioned that she is under the protection of the bishop, and that she has at Zgorzelitse an inheritance from the abbot, even a voevoda's son will not be too much for her." This reckoning sweetened the toils of his journey, for he was troubled by the thought that the happy news which he was taking to Spyhov would be for his mistress a sentence of misery.

Anulka appeared before his eyes often as blushing as an apple. At those times he touched the sides of his horse with spurs, as much as the road permitted, such was his hurry to Spyhov.

They advanced by uncertain roads, or rather without roads, straight ahead as the cast of a sickle. Hlava knew only that going always a little to the west and always to the south they must reach Mazovia, and then all would be well. In the daytime he followed the sun, and when the journey stretched into the night he looked at the stars. The wilderness before him seemed to have neither bound nor limit. Days and nights flowed past in a night-like gloom. More than once Hlava thought that Zbyshko would not bring a woman alive through those terrible uninhabited regions, where there was no place to find provisions, where at night they had to guard their horses from bears and wolves, and leave the road in the daytime before bulls and bisons, where terrible wild boars sharpened their tusks against pine roots, and where frequently he who did not shoot from a crossbow, or pierce with a spear the spotted sides of a fawn or a young pig, had no food for days in succession.

"What will he do," thought Hlava, "travelling with a woman nearly tortured to death and almost breathing her last breath?"

Time after time he had to go around broad morasses or deep ravines at the bottom of which torrents, swollen by spring rains, were roaring. There was no lack, in this wilderness, of lakes in which he saw at sunset herds of elk or deer swimming in ruddy, smooth waters. Sometimes he noticed smoke, announcing the presence of people; a number of times he approached such forest places, but wild men ran out to meet him; these wore skins of wild beasts on their naked bodies, they were armed with clubs and bows, and stared ominously from beneath matted locks. The attendants mistook them for wolf-men. Hlava had to make quick use of the first astonishment caused by the spectacle of a knight, and ride away as swiftly as possible. Twice arrows whistled behind him, and the shout "Vokili!" (Germans!) followed. But he chose rather to fly than explain who he was. At last after many days he began to suppose that he might have passed the boundary. He learned first from hunters speaking Polish that he was on Mazovian ground at last.

It was easier there, though eastern Mazovia was one rustling wilderness. Uninhabited places had not ended yet; still, wherever there was a house, the inhabitants were less morose,—perhaps because they had not met with continual hatred, and perhaps, too, because Hlava spoke a language understood by them. His only trouble was the immense curiosity of those people, who surrounded the horsemen in crowds and overwhelmed them with questions.

"Give him to us, we will take care of him!" said they, on learning that the prisoner was a Knight of the Cross.

And they begged so persistently that Hlava was forced often to be angry, or to explain that the prisoner belonged to Prince Yanush. Then they yielded. Later on, in a region inhabited by nobles and land-tillers, it did not go easily either. Hatred was seething there against the Knights of the Order, for people remembered vividly in all places the treachery and wrong inflicted on the prince when in time of profound peace the Knights seized him in Zlotoria and held him prisoner. They did not wish, it is true, "to do justice" there to Siegfried, but this or that sturdy noble said: "Unbind him. I will give him a weapon and call him to death inside a barrier." Into the head of those, Hlava drove the idea as with a spade that the first right to vengeance belonged to the ill-fated master of Spyhov, and that they were not free to take that right from him.

In settled regions the journey was easy, for there were roads of some kind, and the horses were fed everywhere with oats and barley. Hlava drove quickly, therefore, halting in no place, and ten days before Corpus Christi he was at Spyhov.

He arrived in the evening, as he had when Matsko sent him back from Schytno with tidings of his departure for the Jmud land, and, just as on that day, Yagenka, seeing him from the window, ran down quickly. He fell at her feet, unable to utter a word for some time; but she raised him and took the man upstairs as quickly as possible, not wishing to ask questions before people.

"What news?" inquired she, quivering from impatience, and hardly able to catch her breath. "Are they alive? Are they well?"

"They are alive! they are well."

"And she?—have they found her?"

"She is found. They have rescued her."

"Praised be Jesus Christ!"

But in spite of these words Yagenka's face became as if frozen, for all her hopes were scattered to dust in one moment. But strength did not leave her; she did not lose presence of mind; after a while she mastered herself perfectly, and asked,—

"When will they be here?"

"After some days. The road with a sick woman is difficult."

"Is she sick?"

"Tortured to death. Her mind is disturbed from suffering."

"Merciful Jesus!"

A brief silence followed, but Yagenka's lips grew pale, and moved as if in prayer.

"Did she not come to her mind in presence of Zbyshko?" asked she.

"Maybe she did, but I do not know, for I left there immediately to inform you, my lady, before they could reach Spyhov."

"God reward thee. Tell how it was."

Hlava narrated briefly how they had intercepted Danusia and captured both the giant Arnold and Siegfried. He declared too that he had brought Siegfried to Spyhov, since the young lord wished to deliver him to Yurand as a gift and for purposes of vengeance.

"I must go now to Yurand," said Yagenka when the narrative was finished.

And she went, but Hlava was not long alone, for Anulka ran out to him from a closet, and he, whether he was not entirely conscious from immense toil and weariness, or whether he was yearning for her and forgot himself the moment he saw the girl, he seized her by the waist, pressed her to his bosom, and kissed her cheeks, lips, and eyes in such a way as if long before he had told her all that is told young girls usually before such an action.

And perhaps really he had told her in spirit during his journey, for he kissed and kissed without stopping; he drew her to him with such vigor that the breath was almost stopped in her. She did not defend herself, at first because she was astonished, and then because of faintness, which was so great that she would have fallen to the floor perhaps if less powerful arms had held her. Fortunately this did not last long, for steps were heard on the stairway, and Father Kaleb burst into the chamber.

They sprang away from each other, and the priest overwhelmed the Cheh with questions, which were hard for him to answer since he could not catch breath. The priest thought the man's trouble caused by toils of the journey, and when he had heard confirmation of the news that Danusia was found and recovered, and her torturer brought to Spyhov, he fell on his knees to thank God. Meanwhile the blood quieted in Hlava's veins somewhat, and when the priest rose the Cheh told calmly how they had found and rescued Danusia.

"God did not restore her," said the priest on hearing everything, "to leave her mind and soul in darkness and in control of unclean powers. Yurand will place his holy hands on her, and bring back health and reason with one prayer."

"The knight Yurand?" asked Hlava, with astonishment. "Has he power like that? Can he become a saint during earthly life?"

"Before God he is a saint while alive, and when he dies people will have in heaven one more patron, a martyr."

"But you have said, reverend father, that he will place his hands on his daughter's head. Has his right hand grown out again?—for I know that you begged the Lord Jesus to make it grow."

"I have said 'hands,' as is said usually," answered the priest; "but with divine grace even one hand suffices."

"Surely," answered Hlava.

But there was in his voice a certain disappointment, for he had hoped to witness an evident miracle. Further conversation was interrupted by the coming of Yagenka.

"I have told him the news carefully," said she, "so that sudden joy might not kill him. He dropped down at once in cross form and is praying."

"He lies whole nights thus, but now he will be sure not to rise till to-morrow," answered Father Kaleb.

That was in fact what happened. They looked in a number of times at him, and each time they found him lying, not asleep, but in prayer so earnest that it equalled mental oblivion. The guard, who from the tower of the castle overlooked the land and watched over Spyhov according to custom, declared later on that he saw during that night a certain unusual brightness in the chamber of the "old master."

Only next morning, considerably after matins, when Yagenka looked in again, did he inform her that he wished to see Hlava and the captive. They brought Siegfried in from the dungeon then. His hands were bound crosswise on his breast, and, in company with Tolima, all went to Yurand.

At the first moment Hlava could not see Yurand well, for the membrane windows admitted little light, while the day was dark because of clouds which had covered the sky completely, and announced a dreadful tempest. But when his keen eyes had grown used to the gloom, he barely recognized the old man, so thin had he grown, and so wretched. The giant had changed into an immense skeleton. His face was so white that it did not differ much from the milky color of his beard and hair, and when he bent toward the arm of the chair and closed his eyelids, he resembled a real corpse, as it seemed to Hlava.

Near the armchair stood a table; on the table was a crucifix, near it a pitcher of water and a loaf of black bread; in the latter was thrust a misericordia, or that dreadful knife which knights used to despatch the wounded. Yurand had taken no nourishment save bread and water for a long time. A coarse hair shirt served him as clothing; this he wore on his naked body; the shirt was girded by a grass rope. Thus lived the wealthy and once terrible knight of Spyhov since his return from captivity in Schytno.

When he heard people enter he pushed away with his leg the tame she-wolf which kept his feet warm, next he straightened his body; then it was that he seemed to Hlava like a dead man. A moment of expectation followed, for those present thought that he would make a sign for some one to speak; but he sat motionless, white, calm, with lips somewhat open, as if he had sunk really into the endless repose of death.

"Hlava is here," said Yagenka, in her sweet voice, at last; "do you wish to hear him?"

He nodded in sign of assent; then Hlava began his narrative for the third time. He mentioned briefly the battles fought with the Germans near Gotteswerder, described the struggle with Arnold von Baden and the recovery of Danusia, but not wishing to add pain to those glad tidings brought the old martyr, and rouse new fear in him, he concealed the fact that Danusia's mind was disturbed by long days of cruel torture.

But since his heart was envenomed against the Knights of the Order, and he desired that Siegfried should be punished unsparingly, he took pains not to hide that they had found her terrified, reduced to wretchedness, so sick that it could be seen how they had treated her in the fashion of hangmen, and that if she had remained longer in their dreadful hands she would have withered and died, just as flowers wither and perish when trampled. After this new narrative came the no less gloomy roar of the approaching tempest. Meanwhile bronze-colored cloud-packs rolled forward more and more mightily over Spyhov.

Yurand listened without a movement or a quiver, so that it might have seemed to those before him that he was sleeping But he heard every word and understood it, for when Hlava spoke of Danusia's misery, two great tears gathered in his empty eye-pits and flowed down his cheeks. Of all earthly feelings, there remained to him only this one: love for his daughter.

Then his bluish lips moved in prayer. Outside were heard still distant thunderpeals, and from moment to moment lightning illuminated the windows. Yurand prayed long, and tears fell to his white beard a second time. At last he ceased to weep, and a long silence followed, which continuing beyond measure grew irksome to those present, for they knew not what to do with themselves.

At last old Tolima, the right hand of Yurand, his comrade in all battles, and the main guardian of Spyhov, said,—

"Standing before you, lord, is that hell-dweller, that wolfman of the Order who tortured your child and tortured you; let me know by a sign what I am to do with him, and how I am to give him punishment."

At these words a sudden light passed over Yurand's face, and he motioned to bring the prisoner near him.

In a twinkle two attendants seized Siegfried by the shoulders and brought him to the master of Spyhov. Yurand stretched out his hand and passed his palm over Siegfried's face, as if wishing to recall those features, or impress them on his memory for the last time, then he dropped his hand to the captive's breast, felt the arms lying on it crosswise, touched the cords,—and, closing his eyes, bent his head forward.

Those present supposed that he was meditating. But whatever he was doing, the act did not last long, for after a while he recovered and directed his hand toward the loaf into which was thrust the ominous misericordia.

Then Yagenka, Hlava, even old Tolima, and all the attendants held the breath in their breasts. The punishment was a hundred times deserved, the vengeance was just, but at the thought that the old man half alive there before them would grope his way to the slaughter of a bound captive, the hearts shuddered in their bosoms.

But he, taking the knife by the middle of the blade, stretched his index finger to the point, so that he might know what it touched, and then he began to cut the cords on the arms of Siegfried.

Wonder seized all, for they understood his wish now, and were unwilling to believe their eyesight. This deed, however, was too much for them. Hlava murmured first, after him Tolima, and then the attendants. But Father Kaleb inquired in a voice broken by irresistible weeping,—

"Brother Yurand, what is your desire? Is it to liberate the prisoner?"

"Yes," answered Yurand, with a motion of his head.

"Do you wish that he should go unpunished, free of vengeance?"

"Yes!"

The muttering of indignation and of anger increased, but Father Kaleb, not wishing that the unparalleled deed of mercy should be hindered, turned to the murmurers, and cried,—

"Who dares oppose a saint's will? To your knees!"

And kneeling himself, he began,—

"Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come "

And he said the Lord's prayer to the end. At the words, "and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us," his eyes turned involuntarily to Yurand, whose face was brightened really as with light from another world.

And this sight together with the words of the prayer conquered the hearts of all present, for old Tolima, with a soul hardened in endless battles, made the sign of the holy cross, and embraced Yurand's knees.

"If your will is to be accomplished, lord," said he, "it is necessary to conduct the prisoner to the boundary."

"Yes," nodded Yurand.

Lightning flashed oftener and oftener at the window; the tempest drew nearer and nearer.