Historical fiction; Hungarian fiction -- Translations into English; Transylvania (Romania) -- History -- Fiction
The Tartar envoy at once stepped forward. He was a truculent, swarthy
fellow, with small sparkling eyes. A heron's plume as long as the shaft
of a lance waved from his large turban. He wore a red, richly-fringed
jacket, and the gold inlaid hilt of his scimitar peeped forth from his
broad girdle. Defiantly he placed himself in front of the Prince and
stuck out his chest.
"_Salem alek!_ What do you want?" asked Apafi curtly.
The emir measured the Prince from head to foot twice or thrice with his
piercing eyes, threw back his head, and said--
"My master, the gracious Kuban Khan, bids me say to thee, O Prince of
the Giaours, that thou art a perjured, false, and faithless man. Thou
didst swear by thy honour that we should be good neighbours, and how
hast thou kept thy word? It chanced last year that we traversed the
Saxon[26] land, and visited those towns whose names no true believer can
pronounce, to collect the usual yearly tribute. They were ever good
payers, but some among them chancing to lag behind with their
contributions were, by the order of the most gracious Khan, instantly
reduced to ashes that they might learn to behave better another time.
And perchance thou dost fancy that they amended their evil ways? Not at
all. For when we visited them again this year, we found the charred and
naked walls as we had left them the year before: the unbelieving dogs
had traitorously fled away. Wherefore my gracious master, the mighty
Kuban Khan, bids me ask thee what manner of prince thou art that dost
suffer these unbelieving dogs to so forsake their towns and make fools
of us. When we came at other times, the hay was housed, the corn
thrashed, the cattle stalled--and this time we find nought but weeds,
and therein hares and other unclean beasts which ye unbelievers delight
to eat, and none of the towns built up again, so that we could take no
vengeance. Look to it, then, if thou wouldst not draw down upon thy head
the wrath of the mighty Khan, look to it that thou commandest this
runaway people to return to its towns that we may reckon with them; and
in the meantime bid the remaining Saxon towns, which have faithlessly
environed their houses with impregnable walls, that they open their
gates to us, otherwise we will visit thee in Klausenburg itself with
fire and sword, and will not leave thee one stone upon another."
[Footnote 26: _Saxons_. Geza II. (1141-1161) planted in
Transylvania a German colony to clear the forests and
till the lands. These so-called Saxons have survived to
the present day, and reside chiefly at Hermannstadt.]
Apafi, during the course of this speech, had frequently laid his hand on
his sword, but he evidently thought better of it, for it was with the
utmost tranquillity that he thus replied--
"Go back! Greet thy master, and say that we will give him satisfaction."
With that he turned his back upon the envoy, and would have returned to
his cabinet had not Teleki barred the way.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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