The Knights of the Cross/Volume 1/Chapter 7

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

CHAPTER VII.

The canon of the church heard Matsko's confession, and kept the two men all night hospitably, so that they set out again only next morning early. Beyond Olkush they turned towards Silesia, along the boundary of which they were to pass till they reached Great Poland. The road lay for the greater part through a wilderness, in which were heard frequently about sunset the bellowing of wild bulls and bisons, which sounded like underground thunder, in hazelnut thickets at night glittered wolves' eyes. The greatest danger, however, threatening travellers on this road was from Germans or Germanized knights of Silesia, whose castles rose here and there on the border. It is true that, because of war with Opolchyk the naderspan, who was assisted against King Vladislav by his Silesian nephews, Polish hands had destroyed the greater part of these castles, but it was needful at all times to guard one's self, and not let weapons out of one's hands, especially after sunset.

But they advanced slowly, so that the road annoyed Zbyshko, and only when they were one day's wheel-travelling distant from Bogdanets did he on a certain night hear behind them the trampling and snorting of horses.

"Some people are following us," said Zbyshko.

Matsko. who was not sleeping, looked at the stars, and answered, like a man of experience,—

"Dawn is not distant. Robbers would not attack at the end of night, for they must be at home before daylight."

Zbyshko, however, stopped the wagon, arranged his men across the road, faced those who were approaching, pushed forward himself, and waited.

Indeed, after a certain time, he saw in the darkness between ten and twenty horsemen. One rode in front a few yards in advance of the others; evidently he had no intention of hiding, for he was singing. Zbyshko could not hear his words, but to his ears came the joyous: "Hots! hots!" with which the unknown finished each verse of the song.

"Our people!" said he.

But after a while he called,—

"Stop!"

"And do thou sit still!" answered a jesting voice.

"What ones are ye?"

"What others are ye?"

"But why ride onto us?"

"Why do ye stop the road?"

"Answer, for our crossbows are drawn."

"But our bowstrings are stretched—shoot."

"Answer in human fashion, or there will be trouble."

A joyful song answered Zbyshko:—

"One misery with another is dancing,
Is dancing at the crossroad—
⁠Hots! hots! hots!^[1]
What good is the dance to them?
The dance is good, but the miseries—
⁠Hots! hots! hots!"

Zbyshko was astonished at hearing such an answer; but the song stopped, and the same voice inquired,—

"How is old Matsko? Is he breathing yet?"

Matsko rose up in the wagon, and said,—

"As God lives, that is one of our people!"

Zbyshko moved forward with his horse.

"Who is inquiring about Matsko?"

"A neighbor, Zyh of Zgorzelitse. I am riding a whole week after you, and inquiring of people along the road."

"Oh save us! Uncle! Zyh of Zgorzelitse is here!" cried Zbyshko.

They fell to greeting each other joyfully, for Zyh was their neighbor, and besides a kind man, loved everywhere for his immense joyousness.

"But how are you?" asked he, shaking Matsko's hand. "Is it hots yet, or is it not hots?"

"Hei, no longer hots," said Matsko. "But I am glad to see you. Dear God! this is as if I were already in Bogdanets."

"But how is it with you? I have heard that the Germans shot you."

"They shot me, the dog brothers. The arrow-point remained between my ribs."

"Fear God! Well, what have you done? Have you tried drinking bear's-fat?"

"You see," said Zbyshko, "every bear is full of fat. If we reach Bogdanets I will go at once in the night with an axe to a bee's-nest."

"Maybe Yagenka has bear's fat; if not, I will send elsewhere to look for it."

"What Yagenka? But was not yours Malgosia? "inquired Matsko.

"Oo! what Malgosia? On Saint Michael's it will be the third autumn that Malgosia is lying in the priest's field. She was a grand housekeeper—the Lord light her soul! But Yagenka is like her, only she is young.

"Beyond the valleys shine the mountains;
As the mother, so the daughter—
⁠Hots! hots!"

"But to Malgosia I used to say, 'Do not climb pine trees when thou art fifty years old.' She would not obey me, she climbed. A limb broke under her, and flop! she dug a hole in the ground I tell you; but in three days she gave out her last breath."

"The Lord light her!" said Matsko. "I remember, I remember—when she put her hands on her hips and looked threateningly the boys hid in the hay. But as to housekeeping she was accurate! And to think that she fell from a pine tree! Do you see people!"

"She flew down like a pine cone in winter. Oi, but there was grief! Do you know? after the funeral I got so drunk from sorrow that they could not wake me for three days. They thought that I too had turned my toes upward. And how I cried!—you could not have carried out my tears in a pail! But as to management, Yagenka is accurate. All is on her head now."

"I hardly remember her. When I went away she was not taller than an axe-handle. She could walk under a horse without touching its belly. But that is long ago, and she must have grown up."

"On Saint Agnes day she finished her fifteenth year; but I have not seen her either for nearly a twelvemonth."

"What were you doing? Whence are you coming?"

"From the war. It is captivity for me to sit at home when I have Yagenka."

Matsko, though sick, pricked up his ears eagerly at mention of war, and asked,—

"Were you, perhaps, with Prince Vitold at the Vorskla?"

"I was," said Zyh, joyously. "Well, the Lord God refused luck. We suffered a dreadful defeat from Edygeï. First they killed our horses. The Tartar will not strike hand to hand, like a Christian, but shoots from a distance with bows. If thou press him he will flee, and shoot again. Do thy best, he will have his way. See you, in our army the knights boasted without bounds, and talked thus: 'We will not even level a lance, nor draw swords; we will just dash that vermin apart with our horse-hoofs.' So they boasted till shafts groaned around them, till the air was dark with arrows; and after the battle, what? Barely one out of ten was alive. Will you believe? More than half the army, with seventy Lithuanian and Russian princes, remained on the field; and as to boyars and various courtiers, or whatever they are called, youths, you could not count them in less than a fortnight—"

"I have heard," interrupted Matsko. "And of our auxiliary knights a great many fell also."

"Yes, even nine Knights of the Cross, for these too had to serve Vitold. And of our people a crowd, for, as you know, others may look behind, but our people never. The Grand Prince had most confidence in Polish knights, and would have no guard but them near his person in battle. Hi! hi! They lay like a pavement around him, and nothing touched Vitold! Pan Spytko of Melshtyn fell, and Bernat, the swordbearer, and Mikolai, the cupbearer, and Prokop, and Pretslav, and Dobrogost, Yasko of Lazevitse, Pilik Mazur, Varsh of Mihov, Soha the voevoda, Yasko of Dombrova, Pietrko of Miloslavie, Schepetski, and Oderski, and Tomko Lagoda. Who could count them all? And I have seen some so filled with arrows that they looked like dead hedgehogs, till laughter seized me at sight of them."

Then he laughed outright, as if telling the most amusing thing possible, and began to sing at once,—

"Oi, thou wilt learn what the Tartar is,
When he has rubbed thy skin well!"

"Well, afterward what?" asked Zbyshko.

"Afterward the Grand Prince fled; but straightway he took courage as he does always. The more thou bend him, the better he springs, like a hazel twig. We rushed then to defend the Tavan ford. A handful of new knights came from Poland. All quiet! Very well! Edygeï came next day with a Tartar host, but did nothing. Oh, it was pleasant! Wherever he tried to pass the ford we gave it in the snout to him. He could not pass anywhere. We beat them and seized not a few. I caught five myself, and am taking them home. You will see in the daylight their dog snouts."

"In Cracow people said that war may come to our kingdom."

"But is Edygeï a simpleton? He knows well what a knighthood we have; and this too, that the greatest knights stayed at home, for the queen was displeased when Vitold began the war single-handed. Ei, he is cunning—old Edygeï! He noticed immediately at Tavan that the prince grew in strength, and he went back far away beyond the ninth land!"

"But you returned?"

"I returned. There is nothing there to do now. In Cracow I learned that you started a little before me."

"How did you know that we were the persons?"

"I knew because I inquired at halting-places everywhere." Here he turned to Zbyshko. "Ei, my God, I saw thee a little fellow the last time, but now even in the dark I see thee as big as a wild bull. And thou art ready at once to draw the crossbow! It is clear that thou hast been in war."

"War reared me from childhood. Let uncle tell if I lack experience."

"Your uncle has no need to say anything. In Cracow I saw Povala of Tachev—he told me about thee. Likely that Mazovian does not wish to give thee his daughter, but I would not be so stubborn, for thou pleasest me. Thou wilt forget her, only look at my Yagenka. She is a turnip!"

"Not true! I will not forget though I saw ten like your Yagenka."

"Mochydoly, where the mill is, will go with her; when I went away there were twelve good mares in the meadows with their colts. More than one man will bow down to me for Yagenka—never fear!"

Zbyshko wanted to answer, "But not I!" when Zyh began to sing again,—

"I will bow down to your knees,
And for that give me Yagna.
God grant you!—"

"Gladness and singing are in your head always," remarked Matsko.

"Yes, but what are blessed souls doing in heaven?"

"Singing."

"Well, see then! And the damned weep. I would rather go to the singing than the weeping ones. Saint Peter will say too: 'We must admit him to paradise or the rascal will sing in hell, and that would not be proper.' See, it is dawning already."

And indeed day was coming. After a while they rode out onto a broad plain, where everything was visible. On a lake occupying the greater part of the plain some people were fishing, but at sight of armed men they threw their nets aside, rushed from the water, seized their spears and poles as quickly as might be, and stood in a threatening attitude, ready for battle.

"They have taken us for robbers," said Zbyshko, laughing. "Hei, fishermen! whose are ye?"

They stood some time in silence looking with distrust, but at last the oldest among them recognized the knights, and answered,—

"We belong to the reverend abbot of Tulcha."

"Our relative," said Matsko, "who holds Bogdanets in pledge. This must be his forest, though bought not long since."

"God help you, he buy! He fought for it with Vilk of Brozova, and evidently he won it. A year ago they were to meet on horseback with lances and long swords for all this side of the country here, but I know not how it ended, for I was gone at the time."

"Well, we are relatives, he will not fight with us; he may also remit some of the pledge money."

"He may. If only it accords with his will, he may add something of his own. He is a knightly abbot, for whom it is no novelty to cover his head with a helmet. And he is pious besides, and celebrates mass beautifully. But you must remember—when he thunders out during mass, the swallows under the roofs fly out of their nests. Well, and the glory of God increases."

"Why should I not remember? Why, with his breath he quenches a candle on the altar ten steps away. Has he looked in even once at Bogdanets?"

"Of course he has. He has settled five new men, with their wives, on cleared land. He has been with us too, for, as you know, he baptized for me Yagenka; he has always liked her very much, and he calls her his daughter."

"God grant him to leave me the men," said Matsko.

"Oh, of course! What are five men to such a rich person as he is? Besides, if Yagenka asks him, he will leave them."

Here the conversation ceased for a moment, since above the dark pine wood, and above the ruddy dawn the bright sun rose and lighted up the country. The knights greeted it with the usual "May He be praised!" and then, making the sign of the cross on themselves, they began morning prayers. Zyh finished first and striking his breast repeatedly, said to his companions,—

"Now I will look at you carefully. Hei, you have both changed! You, Matsko, must return to health, the first thing. Yagenka will nurse you, as there is no woman's care in your house. Yes, it is clear that a fragment is sticking between your ribs—and that is not very good." Here he turned to Zbyshko. "Do thou show thyself too— Oh, God of might! I remember thee as a little fellow, how thou wouldst climb over a colt's tail to his back; now, by all the— What a young knight! He has the clean lip of a stripling, but what shoulders! Such a man might close with a bear."

"What is a bear to him?" said Matsko, in answer. "He was younger than he is to-day when that Frisian called him a naked lip, and he, as that name did not please him, plucked out the Frisian's moustache right there."

"I know," said Zyh. "You fought afterward and took their retinue. Povala told me all.

"'The German went out with great splendor,
But naked his snout when they buried him,
⁠Hots! hots!'"

And he looked at Zbyshko with amusement in his eyes. Zbyshko, too, looked with great curiosity on Zyh's figure as tall as a pole, at his thin face with immense nose, and his round eyes full of laughter.

"Oh," said he, "with such a neighbor, if God would return health to uncle, there would not be any sadness."

"With a joyous neighbor there can be no quarrels," said Zyh. "But listen now to what I will say, in good, Christian fashion. You have not been at home for a long time; you will find there no order. I will not say in the land management, for the abbot has done well—he has cleared a strip of forest and settled new men on it. But, as he has visited Bogdanets only occasionally, the storehouses will be empty; yes, and in the house itself there is hardly a bench, or a narrow straw-tick to lie down on. A sick man needs comfort. So, do you know what? Come with me. Stay at my house a short month or two; that will be to my heart, and during that time Yagenka will think of Bogdanets. Only depend on her, and let not your head ache about anything. Zbyshko will go to look after the management; I will bring to you the reverend abbot and you can reckon at once with him. The girl will take as much care of you, Matsko, as if you were her own father, and in sickness a woman's care is better than any other. Well, my friends, will you do as I beg you?"

"It is a known fact that you are a kind man, and have always been such," said Matsko, with emotion; "but, see you, if I am to die by this ugly iron in my ribs I prefer to die in my own house. Besides, at home, though a man be sick, he inquires about more than one thing, and arranges more things than one. Should God command me to that world—there is no help for it. Whether the care be greater or less, I shall not twist out. To hardships we are accustomed in war. An armful of pea-straw is pleasant to him who has slept for years on bare earth. But I thank you much for your kindliness, and if I shall not thank you sufficiently, God grant that Zbyshko will."

Zyh, really famous for kindness, and obliging in character, began again to insist and beg, but Matsko had grown stubborn. If he had to die he would die in his own house! He had suffered whole years through his absence from Bogdanets; so now, when the boundary was not distant, he would not renounce it for anything, even were it to be his last camping-place. God had been kind hitherto in even permitting "the old man" to drag himself that far.

Here he pushed away with his fists the tears which had risen under his eyelids, and looked around.

"If these pine woods belong to Vilk of Brozova," said he, "we shall arrive just after mid-day."

"Not Vilk owns them now, but the abbot," said Zyh.

The sick Matsko laughed at this and after a while added,—

"If they are the abbot's they may be ours sometime."

"Oh," cried Zyh, joyously, "a little while since you were talking of death, but now you would like to outlive the abbot."

"Not I would outlive him, but Zbyshko."

Further conversation was interrupted by sounds of horns in the forest, which were heard far in advance of them. Zyh reined his horse in at once, and listened.

"Some one is hunting, it would seem," said he. "Wait a while! It may be the abbot—it would be well if you were to meet him just now. But be quiet!"

Here he turned to the retinue.

"Halt!"

They halted. The horns sounded nearer, and a little while later the barking of dogs was heard.

"Halt!" repeated Zyh. "They are coming toward us."

Zbyshko sprang from his horse, and cried,—

"Give me the crossbow! Mayhap a beast will run out of the forest. Quick! quick!"

And seizing the crossbow from the hands of an attendant, he pushed it against the ground, pressed it with his stomach, bent, stretched his back into the form of a bow, and grasping the string in both hands pulled it up in the twinkle of an eye to an iron notch, then he put in an arrow and sprang forward into the pine wood.

"He stretched the string without a crank!" whispered Zyh, astonished at the sight of strength so uncommon.

"Ho! he is a deadly fellow!" whispered Matsko, with pride.

Meanwhile the horns and the barking of dogs were heard still nearer, till, all at once, on the right side of the forest was heard a heavy trampling, the crack of breaking twigs and branches, and onto the road rushed, like lightning, an old bearded bison, with gigantic head held low, with bloody eyes, and tongue hanging out. He was panting terribly. Coming out at a hole by the roadside he crossed it with a bound, fell on his forefeet, but rose; quickly and was ready to vanish on the opposite side of the road in a thicket, when the ominous string of the crossbow whizzed on a sudden, the whistle of the shaft was heard, the beast reared, squirmed, bellowed dreadfully, and tumbled to the earth as if struck by a lightning flash.

Zbyshko stepped out from behind a tree, drew the string of the crossbow a second time, and, ready to shoot, approached the prostrate beast, which was still digging the earth with its hind feet. But after he had looked a while he turned calmly to the retinue, and cried from a distance,—

"He has so got it that he is dying!"

"But just think," said Zyh, approaching, "from one arrow!"

"Oh, it was a close shot, and he was running tremendously. Look! not only the point, but the shaft is hidden entirely just behind his foreleg."

"The hunters must be near; surely they will take him."

"I will not give him!" answered Zbyshko; "he was killed on the road, and no one owns the road."

"But if the abbot is hunting?"

"If it is the abbot, let him take the beast."

Meanwhile some tens of dogs rushed from the woods. When they saw the bison they sprang at him with a terrible uproar, fastened to his body in a crowd, and began soon to fight among themselves.

"The hunters will come immediately," said Zyh. "Look, there they are already! but they have come out some distance in front of us and do not see the beast yet. Hop! hop! come this way, come this way! It is lying here! lying here!"

But all at once he was silent, and shaded his eyes with his hand.

"For God's sake, what is this?" called he, after a while. "Am I blind, or am I deceived—"

"There is one in front on a black horse," said Zbyshko

But Zyh exclaimed quickly,—

"Dear Jesus! As I live, that is Yagenka!"

And he began to shout,—

"Yagna! Yagna!"

Then he rushed forward, but before he could urge his steed to a gallop, Zbyshko saw the most wonderful sight in the world: On a swift pied horse hastened toward them, sitting man fashion, a young girl with a crossbow in her hand and a spear at her shoulder. To her hair, which had dropped down somewhat from the speed of riding, had clung wild hops, her face was as ruddy as the dawn, on her breast was an open shirt, above the shirt a coat with the wool inside. When she had ridden up she reined in her horse suddenly. For a moment incredulity, astonishment, and delight were depicted on her features; but at last, unable to gainsay the testimony of her ears and eyes, she began to cry with a thin voice, which was still somewhat childlike,—

"Tatulo! tatulo!"

In one twinkle she slipped from her horse, and when Zyh had sprung down from his beast to greet her on the ground, she flung herself on his neck. For a long time Zbyshko heard only the sound of kisses and the two words: "Tatulo! (Papa dear!) Yagula! (Aggie dear!)" "Tatulo! Yagula!" repeated with delight.

Both escorts came up; Matsko came also in his wagon, and they were still repeating, "Tatulo! Yagula!" and still had their arms around each other's necks. When at last they had had sufficient exclamations and greetings, Yagenka inquired,—

"Then are you coming from the war? Are you well?"

"From the war. Why should I not be well? And thou? And the younger people? I think they are well are they not? Otherwise thou wouldst not be flying through the forest. But what is the best that thou art doing here, girl?"

"Thou seest that I am hunting," replied Yagenka, laughing.

"In other people's forests?"

"The abbot gave permission. Besides, he sent me trained men and dogs."

Here she turned to her servants.

"Take off the dogs for me; they will tear the beast's hide!"

Then she addressed Zyh,—

"Oh, but I am glad, glad to be looking at you! All is well at home."

"But am I not glad?" replied Zyh. "Give thy face again, girl!"

And again they began to kiss, and when they had finished Yagenka said,—

"There is a long piece of road from here to the house—so far did we chase after that beast. As many as ten miles, so that the horses are tired. But he is a strong bison—have you seen? He has three of my arrows in him; he must have fallen from the last one."

"He fell from the last one, but not from thine; this young knight here shot him."

Yagenka gathered back her hair, which had dropped to her eyes, and looked quickly at Zbyshko, though not with excess of good-will.

"Dost thou know who he is?" inquired Zyh.

"I do not."

"No wonder that thou dost not know him, for he has grown. But perhaps thou knowest old Matsko of Bogdanets?"

"For God's sake! is that Matsko of Bogdanets?" cried Yagenka.

And approaching the wagon she kissed Matsko's hand.

"Is this you?"

"It is I. But in a wagon, for the Germans shot me."

"What Germans? The war surely was with Tartars! I know that, for I begged papa not a little to take me with him."

"There was war with the Tartars, but we were not at that war, for earlier we were fighting in Lithuania, I and Zbyshko."

"But where is Zbyshko?"

"Dost thou not know that this is Zbyshko?" asked Matsko, with a smile.

"Is that Zbyshko?" cried the girl, looking again at the young knight.

"Of course it is!"

"Give him thy lips for acquaintance!" cried Zyh, joyously.

Yagenka turned briskly toward Zbyshko, but drew back on a sudden, and covering her eyes with her hands said,—

"If I am ashamed?"

"But we are acquainted from childhood," said Zbyshko.

"Ah, we know each other well. I remember, I remember! About eight years ago you and Matsko came to us, and my dead mother brought us nuts and honey. But you, as soon as the older ones went from the room, put a fist to my nose, and ate the nuts yourself."

"He would not do that now," said Matsko. "He has been with Prince Vitold, and in Cracow at the castle, and knows courtly customs."

But something else came to Yagenka' s head, for turning to Zbyshko, she asked,—

"Then it was you who killed the bison?"

"I."

"Let us see where the arrow is."

"You will not see, for it is hidden entirely behind the fore leg."

"Never mind, do not examine," said Zyh. "We all saw how he shot him, and we saw something better yet, for he drew the crossbow in a second without a crank."

Yagenka looked a third time at Zbyshko, but now with astonishment.

"Did you draw the crossbow without a crank?" asked she.

Zbyshko felt, as it were, a certain incredulity in her voice, so he put on the earth the end of the crossbow from which he had shot before, drew it in a twinkle till the iron hoop squeaked, then, wishing to show that he knew court customs, he knelt on one knee and gave it to Yagenka.

The girl, instead of taking it from his hands, blushed suddenly without herself knowing why, and drew up around her neck the coarse linen shirt which had opened from swift riding through the forest.

1. The o in hots is long, like o in note.