The Pomeranian, translating the knight's words, puffed out his cheeks with his tongue and occasionally bit it to keep from bursting out. Zbyszko, in other times, would certainly have laughed too, but grief and misery had drained every last bit of cheer from him, so he answered seriously.
"Perhaps she did it only out of mischief, not out of malice."
"I forgave her for that," replied de Lorche. "And you have the best proof in that I wanted to fight the knight from Taczew over her beauty and virtue."
"Don't do that," said Zbyszko, even more seriously.
"I know it's death, but I'd rather fall than live in constant sadness and affliction."
"Sir Powała has no mind for such things now. Better come with me to him tomorrow and make friends with him."
"I will do that, because he pressed me to his heart, but tomorrow he's going hunting with the king."
"Then we'll go in the morning. The king loves hunting, but he also doesn't disdain rest, and today he feasted late."
And so they did, but in vain, because Czech, who had hurried ahead of them to the castle to see Jagienka, informed them that Powała had not slept in his own quarters that night but in the king's chambers. Their disappointment was compensated, however, because Prince Janusz met them and ordered them to join his retinue, so they could take part in the hunt.
Riding toward the forest, Zbyszko also found an opportunity to speak with Kniaz Jamont, who told him good news.
"While undressing the king for bed," he said, "I reminded him of you and your Krakow adventure. And since the knight Powała was there, he immediately added that the Krzyżacy had caught your uncle and asked the king to intercede for him. The king, who is brutally angry at them for kidnapping little Jaśko z Kretkowa and other attacks, grew even more furious. 'Not with a kind word,' he says, 'but with a spear! a spear! a spear!' And Powała deliberately added fuel to that fire. Also in the morning, when the Krzyżak envoys waited at the gate, the king didn't even look at them, though they bowed to the ground. Hey! They won't get a promise out of him now that he won't support Prince Witold, and they won't know what to do. But you can be sure that the king won't neglect to press the Master himself about your uncle."
And so Kniaz Jamont comforted his soul, and even more so did Jagienka, who, accompanying Duchess Ziemowitowa to the forest, arranged to ride back next to Zbyszko. During the hunt there was great freedom, so they usually returned in pairs, and since no pair cared about being too close to another, they could talk freely. Jagienka had already learned about Macko's captivity from Czech and had not wasted time. At her request, the duchess gave a letter to the Master, and besides that, she prevailed that the Komtur of Torun, von Wenden, also mentioned it in a letter in which he reported what was happening in Płock. He himself boasted to the duchess that he had added that, "wanting to appease the king, one cannot make difficulties for him in this matter." And the Master was greatly concerned at that moment to appease the mighty ruler as quickly as possible and, with complete safety, turn all his forces against Witold, with whom the Order had indeed not been able to cope so far.
"And so, what I could, I achieved, taking care that there be no delay," concluded Jagienka. "And since the king, not wanting to yield to his sister in great matters, will surely try to accommodate her in smaller ones, therefore I have the best hope."
"Were it not a matter with such treacherous people," answered Zbyszko, "I would simply deliver the ransom, and that would be the end of it. With them, however, it can happen, as it happened to Tolima, that they seize the money and kill the one who brought it, unless some power stands behind him."
"I understand," replied Jagienka.
"You understand everything now," observed Zbyszko, "and as long as I live, I will be grateful to you."
And she, raising her sad and kind eyes to him, asked, "Why don't you address me familiarly, as you did when we were young?"
"I don't know," he answered sincerely. "It's not easy for me, and you are no longer that old sprite you used to be, but... something completely different..."
He couldn't find a comparison, but she interrupted his effort and said, "Because I've gotten a few years older... and the Germans also killed my father in Silesia."
"True!" replied Zbyszko. "May God grant him eternal light."
For a while they rode quietly beside each other, thoughtful and as if listening to the vesper rustle of the pines, then she asked again, "And after ransoming Macko, will you stay in these parts?"
Zbyszko looked at her as if in surprise, for until now he had been so exclusively given over to grief and sorrow that it had never occurred to him to think about what would come later. So he raised his eyes upward, as if thinking, and after a moment replied, "I don't know! Merciful Christ! How should I know? I only know that wherever I wander, my fate will follow me. Hey! A heavy fate!... I'll ransom my uncle, and then I'll probably go to Witold to fulfill my vows against the Krzyżacy — and maybe I'll die."
At that the girl's eyes grew misty, and leaning slightly toward the young man, she began to speak softly, as if in entreaty: "Don't die, don't die!"
And they stopped talking again, until just under the walls of the city Zbyszko shook off the thoughts that were gnawing at him and said, "And you—will you stay here at court?"
"No," she answered. "I miss my brothers and Zgorzelice. Cztan and Wilk must have married by now, and even if they haven't, I'm not afraid of them anymore."
"God willing, Uncle Macko will take you back to Zgorzelice. He's such a friend to you that you can rely on him for everything. But you also remember him..."
"I solemnly promise you that I will be to him as a born child..."
And after those words she burst into tears for good, for her heart had become immensely sad.
The next day, in the daytime, Powała z Taczewa came to Zbyszko's inn and said to him, "After Corpus Christi, the king is leaving immediately for Raciążek to meet the Grand Master, and you have been counted among the king's knights and will set out with us."
And Zbyszko blushed with joy at these words — for this enrollment among the king's knights not only secured him against Krzyżak treachery and deceit, but also covered him with immense glory. After all, among these knights were Zawisza Czarny, and his brothers Farurej and Kruczek, and Powała himself, and Krzon z Kozichgłów, and Stach z Charbimowic, and Paszko Złodziej z Biskupic, and Lis z Targowiska — and many other fearsome, most famous knights, known in the country and abroad. King Jagiello took only a small group of them with him, for some had stayed home and others were seeking adventures in distant overseas lands, but he knew that even with these he could ride all the way to Malbork without fearing Krzyżak treachery, for if need be they would crush the walls with their mighty arms and cut a path for him through the Krzyżacy.
So Zbyszko in the first moment even forgot his sorrow — and squeezing Powała z Taczewa's hands, he said to him joyfully, "To you, no one else, I owe this, sir! To you! To you!"
"To me in part," replied Powała, "in part to the local duchess, but most of all to our Gracious Lord, whom you should go thank immediately, so that he does not suspect you of ingratitude."
"As I am ready to die for him, so help me God!" exclaimed Zbyszko.