V.
On the second day after their arrival at Bogdaniec, Macko and Zbyszko began looking around their old homestead. They soon realized that Zych ze Zgorzelic was right when he said poverty would plague them no little at first.
The farm was still manageable. There were several cultivated fields worked by old hands or newly settled by the abbot. Once there had been much more arable land at Bogdaniec, but since the Battle of Płowce, when the House of Grady had been almost wiped out, there was a shortage of labor. After the raid by Silesian Germans and the war between the Grzymalici and the Nałęcze, the once fertile fields of Bogdaniec had mostly grown over with forest. Macko couldn't manage on his own. A dozen years ago he had tried in vain to attract free peasants from Krześnia and offer them land on shares, but they preferred to stay on their own plots rather than till another man's strip. He did attract some homeless people, and in various wars he took a dozen or so prisoners, whom he married off and settled in cottages. In this way the village began to rise again. But it was hard going, so when an opportunity to pledge the estate arose, Macko eagerly mortgaged all of Bogdaniec, thinking first that the wealthy abbot would find it easier to manage the land, and second that war would meanwhile bring him and Zbyszko more men and money.
And indeed the abbot managed efficiently. He increased Bogdaniec's labor force by five peasant families, multiplied the herds of cattle and horses, and built a granary, a wattle cowshed, and a similar stable. However, since he didn't live permanently at Bogdaniec, he neglected the house. Macko, who had sometimes dreamed that on returning he would find a small stronghold surrounded by a moat and palisade, found everything just as he had left it, except that the corners had warped a bit and the walls seemed lower, having settled and sunk into the ground.
The manor consisted of a huge entry hall, two spacious rooms with chambers, and a kitchen. The rooms had windows made of membrane, and in the center of each was a hearth set in a clay floor, with smoke escaping through cracks in the ceiling. That ceiling, completely black, had in better times also served as a smoking room, for on pegs driven into the beams they used to hang hams of pork, wild boar, bear, and elk, haunches of deer and roe deer, beef backs, and whole coils of sausages. At Bogdaniec, however, the hooks were now empty, as were the shelves running along the walls, where in other manors they placed pewter and earthenware bowls. Only the walls beneath the shelves no longer seemed too bare, for Zbyszko had ordered his men to hang on them armor, helmets, short and long swords, spears, forks, crossbows, lances, and finally shields, axes, and horse trappings. The weapons blackened from being hung in the smoke and had to be cleaned often, but they were all at hand, and besides, woodworm did not attack the shafts of the lances, crossbows, or axe handles. Careful Macko had the costly garments moved to the chamber where he slept.
In the front rooms, near the membrane windows, there were rough tables made of pine boards and similar benches, where the lords sat down to eat together with the servants. People who had grown unused to comforts through years of war did not need much, but at Bogdaniec there was a shortage of bread, flour, and various other supplies, especially dishes and utensils. The peasants brought what they could, but Macko mainly counted on the neighbors to help, as happens in such cases—and indeed he was not mistaken, at least as far as Zych ze Zgorzelic was concerned.
On the second day after their arrival, the old yeoman was sitting in front of the house, wanting to enjoy the beautiful autumn weather, when Jagienka rode into the yard on the same black horse. A servant chopping wood by the fence wanted to help her dismount, but she leaped to the ground in an instant, approached Macko, slightly out of breath from the fast ride and flushed like an apple.
"May He be praised! I've come to pay my respects from my father and to ask after your health."
"No worse than on the road," Macko replied. "At least a man can sleep on his own hearth."
"But you must be very uncomfortable, and a sick man needs care."
"We're tough men. True, there are no comforts at first, but there's no hunger either. We had an ox and two sheep slaughtered, so there's plenty of meat. The women brought some flour and eggs, but that's not enough, and worst of all we lack dishes."
"That's why I had two wagons loaded. On one are two bed sets and dishes, and on the other various provisions. There are flatbreads, flour, bacon, dried mushrooms, a small keg of beer, another of mead—and whatever there was at home, a little of everything."
Macko, who was always glad for any addition to the household, reached out, patted Jagienka on the head, and said, "God reward you and your father. Once we get settled, we'll repay you."
"God grant it! Do you think we're Germans, to take back what we give?"
"Well then, God reward you all the more. Your father told me how thrifty you are. So you ran all of Zgorzelice for a year?"
"Yes! And if you need anything more, send someone who knows what's needed—because sometimes a stupid servant comes and doesn't know why he was sent."
Here Jagienka began to look around a bit, and Macko, noticing this, smiled and asked, "Who are you looking for?"
"I'm not looking for anyone!"
"I'll send Zbyszko to thank you and Zych on my behalf. Do you like Zbyszko?"
"Oh, I didn't look!"
"Then look at him now, because he's coming right now."
And indeed Zbyszko was coming from the watering place, and seeing Jagienka, he quickened his step. He was dressed in an elk-skin tunic and a round felt cap of the kind worn under helmets. His hair, without a band, was cut even with his eyebrows and fell in golden waves on his shoulders. He approached quickly, tall and handsome, looking just like a squire from a great house.
Jagienka turned completely to Macko to show that she had come only to him, but Zbyszko greeted her cheerfully, then took her hand and raised it to his lips despite the girl's resistance.
"Why are you kissing my hand?" she asked. "Am I a priest?"
"Don't resist! It's the custom."
"And even if he kissed your other hand for what you brought," Macko put in, "it wouldn't be too much."
"What did you bring?" asked Zbyszko, looking around the yard, not seeing anything more than the black horse tied to a post.
"The wagons haven't arrived yet, but they will come," answered Jagienka.
Macko began to list what she had brought, omitting nothing. When he mentioned the two bed sets, Zbyszko said, "I'm fine even sleeping on a bison hide, but I thank you for thinking of me too."
"It wasn't me: Father..." replied the girl, blushing. "If you prefer the hide, there's no compulsion."
"I prefer whatever comes along. Often in the field after a battle, I've slept with a dead Krzyżak under my head."
"Have you ever killed a Krzyżak? Probably not!"
Zbyszko instead of answering began to laugh. Macko called out, "For heaven's sake, girl, you don't know him! He does nothing but strike at Germans until it thunders. With lances, with axes, ready for anything, and if he spots a German from afar, you'd have to hold him on a rope, so eager is he to attack. In Krakow he even wanted to strike the envoy Lichtenstein, for which they nearly cut off his head. That's the kind of fellow he is! And I'll tell you about two Frisians whom we took a retinue and such worthy spoils from that for half of it you could buy back Bogdaniec."
Then Macko began to tell about the duel with the Frisians, and then about other adventures that had befallen them and deeds they had done. Jagienka, sitting on a log next to Macko, listened to the story with open mouth, turning her head as if on a swivel, now toward Macko, now toward Zbyszko, looking at the young knight with ever-growing admiration. Finally, when Macko finished, she sighed and said, "Would that I had been born a boy!"
But Zbyszko, who during the story had been also looking at her closely, was evidently thinking of something else at that moment, for he said unexpectedly, "But you are a pretty girl!"
And Jagienka replied half with reluctance, half with sadness, "You've seen prettier than me."
Zbyszko, however, could answer her without lying that he had not seen many such, for from Jagienka simply radiated the glow of health, youth, and strength. The old abbot had not said in vain that she looked half like a guelder rose, half like a young pine. Everything about her was beautiful: her slender figure, her broad shoulders, her breasts as if carved from rock, her red lips, and her bright blue eyes that looked sharply. She was also dressed more carefully than before in the forest during the hunt. On her neck she had red beads, a fur jacket open at the front, covered with green cloth, a skirt of striped homespun, and new boots.
Even old Macko noticed this beautiful attire, and after looking at her for a moment, asked, "And why have you dressed up as if for an indulgence fair?"
But instead of answering, she began to call out, "The wagons are coming, the wagons are coming!" And indeed, when the wagons drove in, she ran to them, and Zbyszko followed. Unloading lasted until sunset, to Macko's great satisfaction, who examined each thing separately and praised Jagienka for each one.
Twilight was already falling completely when the girl began to get ready to go home. As she was mounting her horse, Zbyszko suddenly grabbed her around the waist, and before she could say a word, lifted her up and set her on the saddle. Then she blushed like the dawn and, turning her face toward him, said in a somewhat subdued voice, "You're a strong fellow."
He, not seeing her blush and confusion due to the darkness, laughed and asked, "And aren't you afraid of wild animals? Night is almost here."
"There's a spear on the wagon... hand it to me."
Zbyszko went to the wagon, took out the spear, and handed it to Jagienka.
"Stay healthy!"
"Stay healthy!"
"God reward you! I'll come tomorrow or the day after to Zgorzelice to pay my respects to Zych and to you for your neighborly kindness."
"Come! We'll be glad! Giddap!" And urging her horse forward, she vanished after a moment into the roadside bushes.
Zbyszko returned to his uncle. "Time for you to go back inside."
But Macko replied without moving from the log. "Hey! What a girl! She made the whole yard brighter!"
"Indeed!"
A moment of silence fell. Macko seemed to be thinking about something, looking at the appearing stars, then said again, as if to himself, "She's pretty and thrifty, even though she's no more than fifteen years old."
"Yes," said Zbyszko. "Old Zych loves her like the apple of his eye."
"And he said that Moczydoly will go with her, and there in the meadows is a herd of mares with foals."
"In the Moczydoly forests there are supposedly terrible swamps?"
"But there are beaver lodges in them."
And again silence fell. Macko looked sideways at Zbyszko for a while, and finally asked, "What are you so lost in thought about? What are you thinking about?"
"Well... you see... after Jagienka, Danushka came to my mind so much that it pained my heart."
"Let's go inside," said the old yeoman. "It's late already." And rising with difficulty, he leaned on Zbyszko, who led him to the chamber.
Zbyszko did go the very next day to Zgorzelice, because Macko urged him strongly. He also prevailed on his nephew to take two servants with him for show and to dress as finely as possible, in order to honor Zych and show him due gratitude. Zbyszko gave in and went dressed up as for a wedding, in the same captured jacket of white satin, trimmed with gold fringe and embroidered with golden griffins.
Zych received him with open arms, with joy and singing, while Jagienka, having entered the threshold of the room, stood rooted to the spot and almost dropped the wine jug at the sight of the young man, for she thought some prince had arrived. She lost her boldness at once and sat in silence, only rubbing her eyes from time to time as if she wanted to wake from a dream. Zbyszko, who lacked experience, thought she was unhappy to see him, so he only talked with Zych, praising his neighborly generosity and admiring the Zgorzelice manor, which indeed in nothing resembled the one at Bogdaniec.
Everywhere there was evidence of wealth and abundance. In the rooms there were windows with panes of horn, shaved thin and polished so smooth they were almost as transparent as glass. There were no hearths in the middle of the rooms, only large chimneys with hoods in the corners. The floor was of larch boards, thoroughly washed. On the walls hung armor and many bowls shining like the sun, as well as beautifully carved spoon racks with rows of spoons, two of which were silver. Here and there also hung tapestries, looted in wars or bought from itinerant merchants. Under the tables lay enormous tawny aurochs skins, as well as bison and wild boar skins.
Zych eagerly showed his riches, saying every moment that it was Jagienka's management. He also led Zbyszko to a pantry that smelled of resin and mint, where from the ceiling hung whole bundles of wolf, fox, marten, and beaver skins. He showed him the cheese house, stores of wax and honey, barrels of flour, stores of hardtack, hemp, and dried mushrooms. He then took him to the granaries, cowsheds, stables, and pigsties, to sheds where wagons, hunting gear, and nets were kept—and so dazzled his eyes with abundance that Zbyszko, returning to supper, could not contain his admiration.