“Do you know this boyar against whom you wish to testify?”
“I certainly do,” replied Metko confidently. “It was while a mercenary in his service that I fought in the battle at the river Kalka.”
“Silence, stupid vassal!” shouted the paling boyar. “Forbear or else your miserable existence will end right where you stand!”
“Boyarin, I am no longer your slave, but a free citizen and only my fellow-citizens have the right to order me to be silent. I remained silent long enough but now they command me to speak.”
“Honorable citizens! My testimony against the boyar Tuhar Wolf is important and terrible. He was a trait . . .”
“If you were silent until now, then be silent forever!” yelled the boyar. The battle-axe glinted and Metko The Soldier, his skull cleaved in two, fell to the ground.
“Oh!” gasped the assemblage, jumping to its feet. Angry voices rose from the gathering. “Death to him! Death to him! He has desecrated our meeting place and killed a citizen of our town in the presence of our folk-court!”
“Dirty louts!” the boyar shouted back at them. “I am not afraid of you! A like fate awaits any one of you who dares to lay hands upon me or utters a word against me. Hey there, faithful guards, come here to me!”
The archers and battle-axe wielders themselves pale and tremulous surrounded the boyar. Menacingly, his face flushed with fury, he stood amidst them with the bloody battle-axe upraised in his hand. At Zakhar’s sign the crowd quieted down.
“Boyarin!” said Zakhar. “You have sinned irrevocably before God and our people. You have killed a witness at a session of our court and in the presence of the citizens of our municipality. What he wanted to testify against you, we have not found out and do not want to know, let your conscience be the
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