The Knights of the Cross/Volume 1/Chapter 13

The Knights of the Cross (1918)
by Henryk Sienkiewicz, translated by Jeremiah Curtin
Volume I, Chapter XIII
Henryk Sienkiewicz1702516The Knights of the Cross — Volume I, Chapter XIII1918Jeremiah Curtin

CHAPTER XIII.

Zbyshko, when he had overtaken Zyh and Yagenka, who were riding in company with the abbot and his clerics, joined them, and they rode together to the church; for with him the question was to show the abbot that he had no fear of Vilk or Stan, and did not think of hiding before them. From the first moment he was astonished again at the beauty of Yagenka, for though he had seen her more than once at her father's house, and in Bogdanets dressed beautifully to appear among, guests, he had never seen her arrayed for church as at present. She wore a robe of red cloth, lined with ermine, red gloves, and a gold-trimmed ermine hood, from under which two braids of hair dropped on her shoulders. She was not sitting on the horse man-fashion, but on a lofty saddle with a handle, and with a bench beneath her feet, which were barely visible under the long petticoat plated in even folds. For Zyh, who permitted the girl to wear at home a skin coat and boots of cowhide, was anxious that in front of the church every one should know that not the daughter of some gray-coated landowner, or patented noble had come, but a young lady of a rich, knightly house. With this object, her horse was led by two youths whose lower garments were close-fitting, and the upper ones wide, as was usual with pages. Four house attendants rode behind, and near them the abbot's clerics, with swords and lutes at their girdles.

Zbyshko admired the whole company greatly, above all Yagenka, who looked like an image, and the abbot, who, in red and with immense sleeves to his robe, seemed to him like some prince on a journey. Attired most plainly of all was Zyh, who desired ostentation in others, but for himself only gladness and singing.

When Zbyshko came up, they rode on in a line, the abbot, Yagenka, Zbyshko, and Zyh. The abbot at first commanded his "playmen" to sing pious hymns, only later, when he had listened sufficiently, did he begin to talk with Zbyshko, who looked with a smile at his mighty sword, which was not smaller than the two-handed blades of the Germans.

"I see," said he, with seriousness, "that thou art wondering at my sword. Know then that the synods permit swords to the clergy and even balistas and catapults, on a journey, and we are on a journey. Moreover, when the Holy Father forbade swords and red garments to priests, he surely had men of low station in mind. God created the noble for arms, and whoso should wish to disarm him, would resist God's eternal decrees."

"I have seen Henryk, Prince of Mazovia, who took part in tournaments," answered Zbyshko.

"He is not to be blamed because he took part in tournaments," replied the abbot, raising his finger; "but because he married, and moreover unhappily, for he married a fornicariam et bibulam mulierem, who from youth, as they say, worshipped Bacchus and was moreover adulteram, from whom nothing good could come."

Here he stopped his horse and exhorted with still greater seriousness,—

"Whoso wishes to choose a wife, and to marry, must see that she is God-fearing, of good habits, a housekeeper, and neat,—all of which is enjoined not only through the fathers of the church, but through a certain pagan sage by name Seneca. And how wilt thou know that thou hast hit well if thou know not the nest from which thy comrade for a lifetime is chosen? For another sage of the Lord says, Pomus nam cadit absque arbore (The apple falls from its tree). As the ox, so the skin, as the mother, so the daughter,—from which take this lesson, sinful man, seek a wife not in the distance, but near by; for if thou find a malicious and gallant one, thou wilt weep for her more than once, as wept that philosopher whose quarrelsome mate used to throw out always on his head in her anger aquam sordidam (dirty water)."

"In secula seculorum (For the ages of ages), amen!" thundered in unison the wandering clerics, who, always answering the abbot in that way, were not very careful whether they answered according to meaning.

All listened to the abbot's words with deep attention, wondering at his eloquence and skill in the Scriptures. He did not direct this conversation straight at Zbyshko, but rather turned to Zyh and Yagenka, as if to edify them in particular. Yagenka understood evidently what the point was, for she looked carefully from beneath her long eyelashes at the youth, who wrinkled his brows and dropped his head, as if in deep meditation over what he had heard.

After a time the company moved on, but in silence; only when Kresnia was in sight did the abbot feel at his girdle and turn the side toward the front so that he might seize his swordhilt easily.

"Old Vilk of Brozova will come, and surely with a large retinue," said he.

"Surely," confirmed Zyh, "but the servants said something about his being sick."

"One of my clerics heard that he was to attack us before the inn after mass."

"He would not do that without announcement, and especially after holy mass."

"May God send him thoughtfulness; I seek war with no man, and endure injustice patiently."

Here he looked around on his "playmen," and said.—

"Do not draw your swords, and remember that ye are clerical servants; but if the others draw theirs first, go at them!"

Zbyshko, riding at Yagenka's side, inquired of her touching that which concerned him principally.

"We shall find young Vilk and Stan in Kresnia, surely. Show the men to me at a distance, so that I may know them."

"Very well, Zbyshko," answered Yagenka.

"Before church and after church they meet thee, of course. What do they do then?"

"They serve me as they know how."

"They will not serve thee to-day, dost understand?"

She answered again, almost with humility, "Very well, Zbyshko."

Further conversation was interrupted by the sound of wooden knockers, because there were no bells then in Kresnia. After a while they arrived. From the crowds, waiting for mass before the church, came forth at once young Vilk and Stan; but Zbyshko was quicker, he sprang from his horse before they could come, seizing Yagenka by the side he helped her from the saddle, took her arm, looked at them challengingly, and led her to the church.

At the entrance a new disappointment was awaiting them. Both hastened to the holy water font, and dipping their hands in it, extended them to the maiden. But Zbyshko did the same; she touched his fingers, made the sign of the cross on herself, and entered the church with him. Not only young Vilk, but Stan of Rogov, though he had a small mind, divined that all was done purposely; and such savage anger seized both that the hair rose beneath their head nets. They preserved presence of mind enough to refrain in their anger from entering the church, through fear of God's punishment. Vilk rushed out and flew like a mad man among trees through the graveyard, not knowing himself the direction in which he was going. Stan flew behind him, not knowing with what intent he was acting.

They stopped in the corner of the fence where large stones lay prepared for the foundation of a bell tower to be built in Kresnia. Then Vilk, to get rid of the anger which was raging in his breast to the throat, seized a stone and began to shake it with all his strength; seeing this, Stan grasped it also, and after a while both rolled it with rage through the graveyard as far as the church gate.

People looked at them with wonder, thinking that they were performing some vow, and that they wished in this way to aid in building the bell tower. But the effort relieved them considerably, so that both regained composure, only they had become pale from exertion, and panted, looking at each other with uncertain glance. Stan was the first to break silence.

"Well, and what?" asked he.

"But what?" answered Vilk.

"Shall we attack him right off?"

"How! attack him in the church?"

"Not in the church, but after mass."

"He is with Zyh—and with the abbot. Dost remember what Zyh said: 'Let there be a fight, and I will drive both from Zgorzelitse.' Had it not been for that I should have broken thy ribs for thee long since."

"Or I thine for thee!" replied Stan, as he clinched his strong fists.

And their eyes began to flash ominously; but both soon moderated, for they had greater need of concord than ever. More than once had they fought, but they had always grown reconciled afterward, for though love for Yagenka divided them, they could not live without each other, and yearned for each other always. At present they had a common enemy, and both felt him to be terribly dangerous. So after a time Stan inquired,—

"What is to be done? Send a declaration to Bogdanets."

Vilk was wiser, but he did not know what to do at the moment. Fortunately the knockers came to their aid, and sounded a second time, in sign that mass was about to begin.

"What shall we do?" repeated Vilk. "Go to mass; what God gives will come."

Stan was pleased with this wise answer.

"Maybe the Lord Jesus will inspire us," said he.

"And bless us," added Vilk.

"According to justice."

They went to the church, and after they had heard mass piously they received consolation. They did not lose their heads even when Yagenka, after mass, took holy water again from Zbyshko's hand at the entrance. In the graveyard at the gate they fell at the feet of Zyh and Yagenka, though the abbot was old Vilk's enemy, they fell also at his feet. They looked at Zbyshko with a frown, it is true; but neither one grumbled, though the hearts in their breasts were whining from anger, from pain, and from jealousy, for never had Yagenka seemed to them so queenlike, so wonderful. Only when the brilliant company moved homeward, and when from afar the gladsome song of the wandering clerics came to them, did Stan wipe the sweat from his face with young beard on it, and snort as a horse might. But Vilk gnashed his teeth and said,—

"To the inn! to the inn! Woe to me!"

Remembering then what had eased them before, they seized the stone a second time, and rolled it to its former place, passionately.

Zbyshko rode at Yagenka s side listening to the songs of the abbot's playmen; but when they had gone about the third of a mile, he reined in his horse suddenly,—

"Oh, I was to have a mass said for my uncle's health," cried he; "but forgot it, I am going back."

"Do not go!" said Yagenka, "we can send from Zgorzelitse."

"I will return; do not wait for me. Farewell!"

"Farewell!" said the abbot. "Go back!"

And his face became gladsome. When Zbyshko had vanished from their sight, he punched Zyh in the side slightly, and added,—

"Dost understand?"

"What am I to understand?"

"He will fight Vilk and Stan in Kresnia, as sure as there is amen in Our Father; that is what I wanted, and that is what I have brought about."

"They are deadly fellows! They will wound him; but What of that?"

"How, what of that? If he fights for Yagenka, how can he think of Yurand's daughter? Yagenka will be his lady—not that one; this is what I want, for he is my relative, and pleases me."

"But the vow?"

"While he is waiting, I will absolve him. Have you not heard me promise already?"

"Your head is equal to anything," answered Zyh.

The abbot was pleased with the praise; he pushed up to Yagenka, and inquired,—

"Why art thou so serious?"

She bent in the saddle, and, seizing the abbot's hand, raised it to her lips. "Godfather, but maybe you would send a couple of 'playmen' to Kresnia?"

"What for? They would get drunk in the inn, nothing more."

"But they might prevent some quarrel."

The abbot looked her quickly in the eyes, and said, with some harshness,—

"Even should they kill him!"

"Then let them kill me," cried Yagenka.

And the bitterness which had collected with sorrow in her breast from the time of talking with Zbyshko flowed down now in a sudden flood of tears. Seeing this, the abbot embraced the girl with one arm, so that he covered her almost with his immense sleeve.

"Fear not, my daughter," said he. "A quarrel may happen; but still those two are nobles, they will not attack him together, but will challenge him to the field according to knightly custom; and there he will help himself, even had he to fight with both at one time. And as to Yurand's daughter of whom thou hast heard, there are no trees growing in any forest for that bed."

"Since she is dearer to him, I do not care for him," answered Yagenka, through her tears.

"Then why art thou sniffling?"

"I am afraid that some one will harm him."

"There is woman's wit!" said the abbot, laughing. Then, bending down to Yagenka's ear, he said,—

"Moderate thyself, girl, though he should marry thee, it will happen him to fight more than once; a noble is for that work." Here he bent still lower, and added,—

"But he will marry thee, and that before long, as God is in heaven!"

"Well, we shall see!" answered Yagenka.

And at the same time she began to laugh through her tears, and look at the abbot as if wishing to ask how he knew that.

Meanwhile Zbyshko returned to Kresnia, and went straight to the priest, for he wished a mass said for his uncle's recovery; then he went directly to the inn in which he expected to find young Vilk and Stan of Rogov.

In fact he found both, and also a crowd of people,—nobles by birth and patent, laudworkers, and some jugglers showing various German tricks.

At the first moment he could not distinguish any one, for the inn windows, with oxbladder panes, let in little light; and only when a boy of the place threw pine sticks on the fire did he see in one corner Stan's hairy snout, and Vilk's angry, passionate visage behind tankards of beer.

Then he went toward them slowly, pushing people aside on the way; and at last coming up, he struck the table with his fist till he made everything thunder through the inn.

They rose at once, and pulled up their leather girdles before grasping their sword hilts. Zbyshko threw his glove on the table, and, speaking through his nose as was the custom of knights when they challenged, he uttered the following unexpected words,—

"If either of you two, or other knightly men in this room deny that the most wonderful and most virtuous maiden in the world is Panna Danusia, the daughter of Yurand of Spyhov, I challenge him to a combat on foot, or on horseback, to his first kneeling, or his last breath."

Stan and Vilk were astonished, as the abbot would have been had he heard anything similar; and for a time they could utter no word. What lady is that? Moreover for them the question was of Yagenka, not of her, and if that wildcat did not care about Yagenka, what did he want of them? Why had he made them angry before the church? Why had he come there? Why was he seeking a quarrel? From these queries such confusion rose in their heads that their mouths opened widely. Stan stared as if he had before him, not a man, but some kind of German wonder.

Vilk, being quicker-witted, knew something of knightly customs, and knew that knights often vow service to some women and marry others; he thought that in this case it might be so, and that if there was such a chance of taking Yagenka's part, he ought to seize it on the wing. So he pushed from behind the table, and approached Zbyshko with a hostile face.

"How is that, dog brother?" asked he. "Is not Yagenka, the daughter of Zyh, the most wonderful?"

After him came Stan, and people began to crowd around them; for it was known to all present that this would not end in anything common.