The Knights of the Cross, or, Krzyzacy: Historical RomanceSienkiewicz, Henryk
History
The Knights of the Cross, or, Krzyzacy: Historical Romance
Sienkiewicz, Henryk
Poland -- History -- Jagellons, 1386-1572 -- Fiction; Teutonic Knights -- History -- Fiction
"Immediately after the queen's death, he went to Marienburg. I went to
see the castellan; but he answered me thus: 'They will execute your
nephew, not to please Lichtenstein, but because that is his sentence. It
will make no difference whether Lichtenstein be here or not. Even if he
die, nothing will be changed; the law is according to justice and not
like a jacket, which you can turn inside out. The king can show clemency;
but no one else.'"
"And where is the king?"
"After the funeral he went to Rus'."
"Well, then there is no hope at all."
"No." The castellan said still further: "I pity him, because the Princess
Anna begs for his pardon, but I cannot, I cannot!"
"Then Princess Anna is still here?"
"May God reward her! She is a good lady. She is still here, because
Jurandowna is sick, and the princess loves her as her own child."
"For God's sake! Then Danusia is sick! What is the matter with her?"
"I don't know! The princess says that somebody has thrown a spell over
her."
"I am sure it is Lichtenstein! Nobody else,--only Lichtenstein--a
dog-brother!"
"It may be he. But what can you do to him? Nothing!"
"That is why they all seemed to have forgotten me here; she was sick."
Having said this, Zbyszko began to walk up and down the room; finally he
seized Macko's hand, kissed it, and said:
"May God reward you for everything! If you die, I will be the cause of
your death. Before you get any worse, you must do one thing more. Go to
the castellan and beg him to release me, on my knightly word, for twelve
weeks. After that time I will return, and they may behead me. But it must
not be that we both die without vengeance. You know! I will go to
Marienburg, and immediately send a challenge to Lichtenstein. It cannot
be otherwise. One of us must die!"
Macko began to rub his forehead.
"I will go; but will the castellan permit?"
"I will give my knightly word. For twelve weeks--I do not need more."
"No use to talk; twelve weeks! And if you are wounded, you cannot return;
what will they think then?"
"I will return if I have to crawl. But don't be afraid! In the meanwhile
the king may return and one will be able to beseech him for clemency."
"That is true," answered Macko.
But after awhile he added:
"The castellan also told me this: 'On account of the queen's death, we
forgot about your nephew; but now his sentence must be executed.'"
"Ej, he will permit," answered Zbyszko, hopefully. "He knows that a
nobleman will keep his word, and it is just the same to him, whether they
behead me now, or after St. Michael's day."
"Ha! I will go to-day."
"You better go to Amylej to-day, and rest awhile. He will bandage your
wound, and to-morrow you can go to the castellan."
"Well, with God then!"
"With God!"
They hugged each other and Macko turned toward the door; but he stopped
on the threshold and frowned as if he remembered something unpleasant.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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