XI

XI.

The old knight wanted to accompany Zbyszko to Prince Witold's armies, but Zbyszko wouldn't even let him mention it. He insisted on going alone, without a retinue, without wagons, with only three mounted servants—one to carry provisions, one to carry armor and clothes, and one to carry bearskins for sleeping. In vain Jagienka and Macko begged him to take at least Hlawa, a squire of proven strength and loyalty. He refused, saying he needed to forget the pain that consumed him, and the presence of a squire would only remind him of everything that had been and gone.

But even before his departure, important discussions were held about what to do with Spychow. Macko advised selling the estate. He said it was an unlucky land that had brought nothing but disaster and misery to anyone who owned it. In Spychow there was wealth of all kinds—money, armor, horses, clothes, fur coats, precious hides, expensive furniture, and herds. In his heart, Macko wanted to use that wealth to help Bogdaniec, which he cherished above all other lands. They deliberated for a long time, but Zbyszko absolutely refused to agree to a sale.

"How can I sell Jurand's bones?" he said. "Is this how I repay him for all the kindnesses he showered on me?"

"We promised you we'd take Danusia's little coffin," Macko replied. "We can take Jurand's body as well."

"But he rests here with his fathers, and without them he'd be lonely in Krześnia. If you take Danushka, he'll stay here far from his child; if you take him too, then his fathers will be left alone."

"You don't realize that Jurand sees everyone every day in paradise, and Father Kaleb says he's in paradise," replied the old knight.

But Father Kaleb, who was on Zbyszko's side, said: "The soul is in paradise, but the body remains on earth until Judgment Day."

Macko thought for a moment and, following his own train of thought, added: "Indeed. Jurand probably doesn't see the one who wasn't saved, but there's no help for that."

"Why try to fathom God's judgments?" replied Zbyszko. "But God forbid that a stranger should dwell over these holy ashes. I'd rather leave everyone here and not sell Spychow, even if they offered me a duchy for it."

After these words, Macko knew there was no help for it. He knew his nephew's stubbornness and secretly admired it, along with everything else in the young man.

So after a moment he said: "It's true that the boy speaks against the grain for me, but what he says is right."

And he grew troubled, for he didn't know what to do.

But Jagienka, who had been silent until now, offered a new idea: "If we could find an honest man to govern here, or take Spychow on lease, that would be excellent. Leasing it would be best, because you'd have no trouble, just ready cash. Maybe Tolima? He's old and knows more about war than farming, but if not him, maybe Father Kaleb?"

"Dear lady!" replied Father Kaleb. "Both Tolima and I will get our share of earth—the kind that covers us, not the kind we walk on."

And having said that, he turned to Tolima: "Isn't that right, old friend?"

So Tolima cupped his pointed ear with his hand and asked: "What's that?" And when they repeated it louder, he said: "Holy truth. I'm not for farming! The ax plows deeper than the plow. I'd gladly avenge my lord and child again."

He stretched out his thin but sinewy hands with fingers curved like the talons of a bird of prey. Then, turning his gray, wolf-like head toward Macko and Zbyszko, he added: "Take me against the Germans, Your Worships—that's my service."

And he was right. He had brought no small wealth to Jurand, but only through war and plunder—not farming.

So Jagienka, who had been thinking during this conversation about what to say, spoke again: "A young man would be fitting here, one who isn't afraid, because the Krzyżak wall is right next door. I mean someone who wouldn't hide from the Krzyżaks but would even seek them out. So I think, without meaning any offense, Hlawa—he would be just right for it."

"Look how she advises us!" said Macko, who despite all his love for Jagienka couldn't understand why a woman—and a flaxen-haired girl at that—should have a say in such matters.

But the Czech rose from the bench where he was sitting and said: "God is my witness, I would gladly go to war with Lord Zbyszko—we've already plucked a few Krzyżaks together, and more could happen. But if I am to stay, then I would stay here. Tolima is my friend and he knows me. The Krzyżak wall next door? So what? That's exactly it! We'll see who gets tired of the neighborhood first. Should I be afraid of them? Let them be afraid of me. And God forbid, Lord Jesus, that I should do any harm to your lordships' estate and take everything for myself. The young lady will vouch for me on that, because she knows I would rather die a hundred times than show her a dishonest eye. As for farming, I know as much as I saw at Zgorzelice, but I figure that here you need to manage more with ax and sword than with plow. And that all suits me fine—except that, well... staying here like this..."

"So what?" asked Zbyszko. "What are you hesitating about?"

And Hlawa became very flustered and, stammering, went on: "It's like, when the young lady leaves, everyone will leave with her. Fighting is good, and farming too, but alone like this... without any help... I'd be terribly lonely here without the young lady and without... the one I meant to say... and since the young lady didn't travel alone in the world... so if no one helped me here... I don't know!"

"What is this fellow talking about?" asked Macko.

"You have a sharp mind, and you haven't figured it out?" replied Jagienka.

Instead of answering, she turned to the squire: "And what if Anula Sieciechówna stayed with you—could you bear it?"

At that the Czech threw himself at her feet, so that dust rose from the earthen floor. "I would bear it with her even in hell!" he cried, embracing her feet.

Zbyszko, hearing this cry, looked at his squire with astonishment, for he had known nothing of this before and had not suspected a thing. And Macko also marveled inwardly at how much a woman means in all human affairs—how through her everything can succeed or utterly fail.

"God is merciful," he muttered, "that I am no longer curious about them."

However, Jagienka turned again to Hlawa and said: "Now we need to know one thing: whether Anula can bear it with you."

And she called Sieciechówna, who entered, clearly knowing or guessing what it was about, for she entered with her eyes covered by her arm and with her head bowed so that only the parting of her fair hair was visible, brightened even more by a ray of sunlight falling on it. First she stopped by the door, then, rushing to Jagienka, she fell on her knees before her and hid her face in the folds of her skirt.

And the Czech knelt beside her and said to Jagienka: "Bless us, young lady."