CHAPTER IV.
The prince did not object to the duel, because, according to the customsof that time, he had no power to do so. He only prevailed upon Rotgier towrite a letter to the master and to Zygfried von Loeve, stating that hewas the first to throw down the gauntlet to the Mazovian knights, inconsequence of which he appeared at a combat with the husband of Jurand'sdaughter, who had already challenged him once before.
The Teuton also explained to the grand master, that if he appeared at theduel without permission, he did it for the sake of the honor of theOrder, and to avert ugly suspicions, which might entail disgrace, andwhich he, Rotgier, was always prepared to redeem with his own blood. Thisletter was sent instantly to the border by one of the knight's footmen,to be sent thence to Malborg by mail, which the Teutons, some yearsbefore others, invented and introduced into their possessions.
Meanwhile the snow in the courtyard was leveled and strewn with ashes, sothat the feet of the fighters should neither clog nor slip upon thesmooth surface. There was unusual excitement in the whole castle.
The knights and court ladies were so agitated that on the night precedingthe fight nobody slept. They said, that a fight on horseback with spears,and even with swords, frequently terminates in wounds; on foot on thecontrary, and particularly with terrible axes, it always terminates indeath. All hearts were with Zbyszko, but the very ones who felt mostfriendly toward him or Danusia recollected with so much more fear thestories about the fame and dexterity of the Teuton. Many ladies spent thenight in church, where also Zbyszko confessed to the priest Wyszoniek,They said one to another as they looked at his almost boyish face: "Why,he is a child yet! how can he expose his head to the German axe?" Andthey prayed the more fervently for aid for him. But when he arose atdaybreak and walked through the chapel, in order to put on his arms inthe hall, they again gained courage, because, although Zbyszko's featureswere indeed boyish, his body was of an extraordinary size, and strong, sothat he seemed to them to be a picked man, who could take care of himselfagainst even the most powerful.
The fight was to take place in the castle yard, which was surrounded by aporch. When it was broad daylight, the prince and princess arrivedtogether with their children and took their seats in the centre betweenthe pillars, from where the whole yard could best be overlooked. Next tothem were the principal courtiers, noble ladies, and the knighthood. Allthe corners of the vestibule were filled: the domestics gathered behindthe wall which was made from the swept snow, some clung to the posts, andeven to the roof. There the vulgar muttered among themselves: "God grantthat our champion may not be subdued!"
The day was cold, moist, but clear; the sky swarmed with daws, whichinhabited the roofs and summits of the bastions, and which, scared by theunusual bustle, moved in circles, with great clapping of wings, over thecastle. Notwithstanding the cold, the people perspired with excitement,and when the first horn sounded to announce the entrance of thecombatants, all hearts began to beat like hammers.
They entered from opposite sides of the arena and halted at the barriers.Every one of the onlookers then held his breath, every one thought, thatvery soon two souls would escape to the threshold of the Divine Court andtwo dead bodies remain on the snow, and the lips, as well as the cheeksof the women turned pale and livid at that thought; the eyes of the menagain gazed steadfastly at the opponents as at a rainbow, because everyone was trying to forecast, from their postures and armament alone, whichside would be victorious.
The Teuton was dressed in an enameled blue cuirass, with similar armorfor the thighs, as also the helmet with raised visor, and with amagnificent bunch of peacock feathers on the crest. Zbyszko's breast,sides and back were encased in splendid Milanese mail, which he had oncecaptured from the Fryzjans. He had on his head a helmet with an openvisor, and without feathers; on his legs was bull's hide. On their leftshoulders, they carried shields with coat of arms; on the Teuton's at thetop was a chessboard, at the bottom, three lions rampant; on Zbyszko's, ablunt horseshoe. In the right hand they carried broad, huge, terribleaxes, set in oaken, blackened helves, longer than the arm of a grown man.The warriors who seconded them were: Hlawa, called by Zbyszko, Glowacz,and van Krist, both dressed in dark iron mail, both equally with axes andshields: van Krist had on his shield a St. John's wort; the shield of theBohemian resembled that of the _Pomian_, with this difference, thatinstead of an axe stuck in a bull's head, it had a short weapon half sunkin the eye.
The horn sounded the second time, and, at the third, the opponents,according to agreement, were to advance against each other. A small spacestrewn with grey ashes now only separated them; over that space hoveredin the air like an ominous bird--death. But before the third signal wasgiven, Rotgier approached the pillars between which sat the prince'sfamily, raised his steel-encased head, and began to speak in such a loudvoice that he was heard in all corners of the vestibule:
"I take God, you, worthy lord, and the whole knighthood of this soil, aswitness that I am not guilty of the blood that is about to be shed."
At these words their hearts were again ready to break with grief, seeingthat the Teuton was so confident of himself and his victory. But Zbyszko,having a simple soul, turned to his Bohemian, and said:
"That Teutonic boasting stinks; it would be more appropriate after mydeath than while I am alive. That boaster moreover has a peacock's plumeon his helmet, and at the very outset I made a vow to obtain three ofthem and afterward as many fingers of the hand. God grant it!"
"Lord ..." said the Bohemian, bending down and picking up in his handssome ashes from the snow, to prevent the axe-handle from slipping in hishand; "perhaps Christ will permit me quickly to despatch that vilePrussian, and then perhaps, if not to defeat this Teuton, at least putthe handle of the axe between his knees and upset him."
"God save you!" hastily exclaimed Zbyszko; "you would cover me andyourself with disgrace."
But at that moment the horn sounded the third time. On hearing it, theseconds sprang quickly and furiously at each other, while the knightsmoved slowly and deliberately, as their dignity and gravity demanded, forthe first bout.
Very few paid attention to the seconds, but those of the experienced menand of the domestics who looked at them understood at once how great werethe odds on Hlawa's side. The German wielded the heavier axe and hisshield was cumbersome. Below the shield were visible his legs which werelonger, though not so strong nor active as the sturdy and tightly coveredlegs of the Bohemian.
Hlawa moreover pressed so vigorously that van Krist, almost from thefirst moment, was compelled to retreat. It was instantly understood thatone of the adversaries would fall upon the other like a tempest; that hewould attack and strike like lightning, while the other, under theconviction that death was already upon him, would merely defend himselfso as to postpone the terrible moment as long as possible.
And so it actually was. That boaster, who generally stood up to fightonly when he could not do otherwise, now recognized that his insolent andheedless words had led him into a fight with a terrible giant whom heought to have avoided like a perdition; and so, when he now felt thatevery one of these blows could kill an ox, his heart began to failentirely. He almost forgot that it is not sufficient to catch the blowson the shield, but that it was also necessary to return them. He sawabove him the lightning of the axe and thought that every gleam was thelast. Holding up the shield, he involuntarily half closed his eyes with afeeling of terror and doubt whether he would ever open them again. Veryrarely he gave a blow himself, but without any hope of reaching hisopponent, and raised the shield constantly higher over his head, so as tosave it yet for a little.
Finally he began to tire, but the Bohemian struck on constantly morepowerfully. Just as from a tall pine-tree great chips fly under thepeasant's axe, so under the Bohemian's strokes fragments began to scaleoff and fly from the German warrior's armor. The upper edge of the shieldwas bent and shattered, the mail from the right shoulder rolled to theground, together with the cut and already bloody strap
of leather. Thismade van Krist's hair stand on end--and a deadly fear seized him. Hestruck with all the force of his arm once and again at the Bohemian'sshield; finally, seeing that he had no chance against his adversary'sterrible strength and that only some extraordinary exertion could savehim, he threw himself suddenly with all the weight of his armor and bodyagainst Hlawa's legs. Both fell to the ground and tried to overcome eachother, rolling and struggling in the snow. But the Bohemian soon appearedon top; for a moment he still checked the desperate efforts of hisopponent; finally he pressed his knee upon the chain-armor covering hisbelly, and took from the back of his belt a short three-edged "dagger ofmercy."[109]
"Spare me!" faintly gasped van Krist, raising his eyes toward those ofthe Bohemian.
But the latter, instead of answering, stretched himself upon him theeasier to reach his neck, and, cutting through the leather fastening ofthe helmet under the chin, stabbed the unfortunate man twice in thethroat, directing the sharp edge downward toward the centre of thebreast.
Then van Krist's pupils sank in their sockets, his hands and legs beganto beat the snow, as if trying to clean it of the ashes, but after amoment he stiffened out and lay motionless, breathing only with red,foam-covered lips, and bleeding profusely.
But the Bohemian arose, wiped the "dagger of mercy" on the German'sclothing, then raised the axe, and, leaning against it, he began to lookat the harder and more stubborn fight between his knight and BrotherRotgier.
The western knights were already accustomed to comforts and luxuries,while the landowners in Little Poland and Great Poland, as also inMazowsze, led a rigorous and hardy life, wherefore they awoke admirationby their bodily strength and endurance of all hardships, whether constantor occasional, even among strangers and foes. Now also it wasdemonstrated that Zbyszko was as superior to the Teuton in bodilystrength as his squire was superior to van Krist, but it was also proventhat his youth rendered him the inferior in knightly training.
It was in some measure favorable for Zbyszko that he had chosen a combatwith axes, because fencing with that kind of weapon was impossible. Withlong and short swords, with which it was necessary to know the strokes,thrusts, and how to ward off blows, the German would have had aconsiderable superiority. But even so, Zbyszko, as well as thespectators, recognized from his motions and management of the shield,that they had before them an experienced and formidable man, whoapparently was not entering a combat of this kind for the first time. Toeach of Zbyszko's blows Rotgier offered his shield, slightly withdrawingit at the concussion, by which means even the most powerful swing lostits force, and could neither cleave nor crush the smooth surface. He attimes retreated and at times became aggressive, doing it quietly, thoughso quickly that the eyes could hardly follow his motions.
The prince was seized with fear for Zbyszko, and the faces of the menlooked gloomy; it seemed that the German was purposely trifling with hisopponent. Sometimes he did not even interpose the shield, but at themoment when Zbyszko struck, he turned half aside, so that the sharp edgeof the axe cut the empty air. This was the most terrifying thing, becauseZbyszko might thereby lose his balance and fall, and then his destructionwould be inevitable. Seeing this, the Bohemian, standing over the slainvan Krist, also became alarmed, and said to himself: "My God! if mymaster falls, I will strike him with the hook of my axe between theshoulder-blades, and overthrow him also."
However, Zbyszko did not fall, because, being very strong upon his legsand separating them widely, he was able to support the entire weight ofhis body on either as he swung.
Rotgier observed that instantly, and the onlookers were mistaken insupposing that he underestimated his opponent. On the contrary, after thefirst strokes, when, in spite of his utmost skill in withdrawing theshield, his hand almost stiffened under it, he understood that he wouldhave a hard time with this youth, and that, if he did not knock him downby some clever manoeuvre, the combat would prove long and dangerous. Heexpected Zbyszko to fall upon the snow after a vain stroke in the air,and as that did not happen, he immediately became uneasy. He saw, beneaththe steel visor, the closely-drawn nostrils and mouth of his opponent,and occasionally his gleaming eyes, and he said to himself that the otherwould fly into a blind rage and forget himself, lose his head, and madlythink more of striking than of defending himself. But he was mistaken inthis also. Zbyszko did not know how to avoid a stroke by a half-turn, buthe did not forget his shield, and, while raising the axe, did not exposehimself more than was necessary. His attention was apparently redoubled,and having recognized the experience and skill of his opponent, insteadof forgetting himself he collected his thoughts and became more cautious;and there was that premeditation in his blows which not hot but coolanger only can conquer.
Rotgier, who had fought in many wars and battles, either in troop orsingly, knew by experience that there are some people, like birds ofprey, who are born to fight, being specially gifted by Nature, whobestows all things, with what others only attain after years of training,and he at the same time observed that he was now dealing with one ofthose. He understood from the very first strokes that there was in thisyouth something as in a hawk, who sees in his opponent only his prey, andthinks of nothing but getting him in his claws. Notwithstanding his ownstrength, he also noticed that it was not equal to Zbyszko's, and shouldhe get exhausted before succeeding in giving a final stroke, the combatwith this formidable, although less experienced, stripling, might resultin his ruin. Thus reflecting, he determined to fight with the leastpossible effort, drew the shield closer to him, did not move much eitherforward or backward, restricted his motions, and gathered all the powerof his soul and arm for one decisive stroke, and awaited his opportunity.
The terrible fight lasted longer than usual. A deathlike silence reignedin the porches. The only sounds heard were the sometimes ringing andsometimes hollow blows of the sharp points and edges of the axes againstthe shields. Such sights were not strange to the princes, knights andcourtiers; and nevertheless a feeling, resembling terror, seemed toclutch all hearts as if with tongs. It was understood that this was not amere exhibition of strength, skill and courage, but that in this fightthere was a greater fury and despair, a greater and more inexorablestubbornness, a deeper vengeance. On one side terrible wrongs, love andfathomless sorrow; on the other, the honor of the entire Order and deephatred, met on this field of battle for the Judgment of God.
Meanwhile the wintry, pale morning brightened, the grey fog cleared away,and the sunrays shone upon the blue cuirass of the Teuton and the silverMilanese armor of Zbyszko. The bell rang in the chapel for early mass,and at the sounds of the bell flights of crows again flew from the castleroofs, flapping their wings and crowing noisily, as if in joy at thesight of blood and the corpse lying motionless in the snow. Rotgierlooked at it once and again during the fight, and suddenly began to feelvery lonesome. All the eyes that were turned upon him were those ofenemies. All the prayers, wishes and silent vows which the women wereoffering were in Zbyszko's favor. Moreover, although the Teuton was fullyconvinced that the squire would not cast himself upon him from behind,nor strike him treacherously, nevertheless, the presence and nearness ofthat terrifying figure involuntarily inspired him with such fear aspeople are subject to at the sight of a wolf, a bear or a buffalo, fromwhich they are not separated by bars. And he could not shake off thisfeeling, especially as the Bohemian, in his desire to follow closely thecourse of the battle, constantly changed his place, stepping in betweenthe fighters from the side, from behind, from the front--bending his headat the same time, and looking at him fiercely through the visor of thehelmet, and sometimes slightly raising his bloody weapon, as ifinvoluntarily.
At last the Teuton began to tire. One after another, he gave two blows,short but terrible, directing them at Zbyszko's right arm, but they weremet by the shield with such force that the axe trembled in Rotgier'shand, and he himself was compelled to retreat suddenly to save himselffrom falling; and from that moment, he retreated steadily. Finally, notonly his strength but
also his coolness and patience began to beexhausted. At the sight of his retreating, a few triumphant shoutsescaped from the breasts of the spectators, awakening in him anger anddespair. The strokes of the axes became more frequent. Perspirationflowed from the brows of both fighters, and panting breath escaped fromtheir breasts through their clenched teeth. The spectators ceased keepingsilence, and now every moment voices, male or female, cried: "Strike! Athim!... God's judgment! God's punishment! God help you!"
The prince motioned with his hand several times to silence them, but hecould not restrain them! Every moment the noise increased, becausechildren here and there began to cry on the porches, and finally, at thevery side of the princess, a youthful, sobbing, female voice called out:
"For Danusia, Zbyszko! for Danusia!"
Zbyszko knew well that it was for Danusia's sake. He was sure that thisTeuton had assisted in her capture, and in fighting him, he fought forher wrongs. But being young and eager for battles, during the combat hehad thought of that only. But suddenly, that cry brought back to his mindher loss and her sufferings. Love, sorrow and vengeance poured fire intohis veins. His heart began to call out with suddenly awakened pain, andhe was plainly seized with a fighting frenzy. The Teuton could not anylonger catch nor avoid the terrible strokes, resembling thunderbolts.Zbyszko struck his shield against his with such superhuman force, thatthe German's arm stiffened suddenly and fell.... He retreated in terrorand half crouched, but that instant there flashed in his eyes the gleamof the axe, and the sharp edge fell like a thunderbolt upon his rightshoulder.
Only a rending cry reached the ears of the onlookers: "Jesus!"--thenRotgier retreated one more step and fell upon his back on the ground.Immediately there was a noise and buzz on the porches, as in a bee-gardenin which the bees, warmed by the sun, commence to move and swarm. Theknights ran down the stairs in whole throngs, the servants jumped overthe snow-walls, to take a look at the corpses. Everywhere resounded theshouts: "This is God's judgment ... Jurand has an heir! Glory to him andthanksgiving! This is a man for the axe!" Others again cried: "Look andmarvel! Jurand himself could not strike more nobly." A whole group ofcurious ones stood around Rotgier's corpse, and he lay on his back with aface as white as snow, with gaping mouth and with a bloody arm soterribly shorn from the neck down to the armpit, that it scarcely held bya few shreds.
Therefore, others again said: "He was alive just now and walked upon theearth with arrogance, but now he cannot even move a finger." And thusspeaking, some admired his stature, because he took up a large space onthe battlefield, and appeared even larger in death; others again admiredhis peacock plume, changing colors beautifully in the snow; others againhis armor, which was valued at a good village. But the Bohemian, Hlawa,now approached with two of Zbyszko's retainers in order to take it offfrom the deceased, therefore the curious surrounded Zbyszko, praising andextolling him to the skies, because they justly thought that his famewould redound to the credit of the whole Mazovian and Polish knighthood.Meanwhile the shield and axe were taken from him, to lighten his burden,and Mrokota of Mocarzew unbuckled his helmet and covered his hair, wetwith perspiration, with a cap of scarlet cloth.
Zbyszko stood, as if petrified, breathing heavily, with the fire notfully extinguished yet in his eyes, and a face pale with exhaustion anddetermination and trembling somewhat with excitement and fatigue. But hewas taken by the hand and led to the princely family, who were waitingfor him in a warm room, by the fireside. There Zbyszko kneeled downbefore them and when Father Wyszoniek gave him a blessing and said aprayer for the eternal rest of the souls of the dead, the prince embracedthe young knight and said:
"God Almighty decided between you two and guided your hand, for which Hisname be blessed. Amen!"
Then turning to the knight de Lorche and others, he added:
"You, foreign knight and all present I take as witnesses to what Itestify myself, that they met according to law and custom, and as the'Judgment of God' is everywhere performed, this also was conducted in aknightly and devout manner."
The local warriors cried out affirmatively in chorus; when again theprince's words were translated to de Lorche, he arose and announced thathe not only testified that all was conducted in knightly and devoutstyle, but should anybody in Malborg or any other princely court dare toquestion it, he, de Lorche, would challenge him instantly to fight eitheron foot or horseback, even if he should not merely be a common knight,but a giant or wizard, exceeding even Merlin's magical power.
Meanwhile, the princess Anna Danuta, at the moment when Zbyszko embracedher knees, said as she bent down to him:
"Why do you not feel happy? Be happy and thank God, because if He in Hismercy has granted you this suit, then He will not leave you in thefuture, and will lead you to happiness."
But Zbyszko replied:
"How can I be happy, gracious lady? God gave me victory and vengeanceover that Teuton, but Danusia was not and still is not here, and I am nonearer to her now than I was before."
"The most stubborn foes, Danveld, Godfried and Rotgier live no longer,"replied the princess, "and they say that Zygfried is more just than they,although cruel. Praise God's mercy at least for that. Also de Lorche saidthat if the Teuton fell he would carry his body away, and go instantly toMalborg and demand Danusia from the grand master himself. They willcertainly not dare to disobey the grand master."
"May God give health to de Lorche," said Zbyszko, "and I will go with himto Malborg."
But these words frightened the princess, who felt it was as if Zbyszkosaid he would go unarmed among the wolves that assembled in the winter inpacks in the deep Mazovian forests.
"What for?" she exclaimed. "For sure destruction? On your arrival,neither de Lorche nor those letters, written by Rotgier before the fight,will help you. You will save nobody and only ruin yourself."
But he arose, crossed his hands and said: "So may God help me, that Ishall go to Malborg and even across oceans. So may Christ bless me, thatI shall look for her until the last breath of my nostrils, and that Ishall not cease until I perish. It is easier for me to fight the Germans,and meet them in arms, than for this orphan to moan under ground. Oh,easier! easier!"
And he said that, as always when he mentioned Danusia, with such rapture,with such pain, that his words broke off as if some one had clutched himby the throat.
The princess recognized that it would be useless to turn him aside, andthat if anybody wanted to detain him it must be by chaining him andcasting him under ground.
But Zbyszko could not leave at once. Knights of that day were not allowedto heed any obstacles, but he was not permitted to break the knightlycustom that required the winner in a duel to spend a whole day on thefield of combat, until the following midnight, and this in order to showthat he remained master of the field of battle and to show his readinessfor another fight, should any of the relatives or friends of the defeatedwish to challenge him to such.
This custom was even observed by whole armies, which thus sometimes lostadvantages which might accrue from haste after the victory. Zbyszko didnot even attempt to evade that inexorable law, and refreshing himself,and afterward putting on his armor, he lingered until midnight in thecastle yard, under the clouded wintry sky, awaiting the foe that couldnot come from anywhere.
At midnight, when the heralds finally announced his victory by sound oftrumpet, Mikolaj of Dlugolas invited him to supper and at the same timeto a council with the prince.