"Come here! Do you know what's happened? Zbyszko was here two days ago."
Her face changed in an instant, and her legs, clad in tight striped leggings, visibly trembled beneath her.
"He was here and then left?" she asked, her heart pounding. "Where to?"
"Two days ago. Where to—maybe Father Kaleb knows?"
"We must go after him!" she said in a resolute voice.
A moment later Father Kaleb entered. Thinking that Macko had called for him to ask about Jurand, he spoke before the question could be asked:
"He's still asleep."
"I heard that Zbyszko was here?" Macko exclaimed.
"He was. He left two days ago."
"Where to?"
"He didn't know himself... to search... He went toward the Samogitian border, where there's war now."
"For the love of God, Father, tell me everything you know about him."
"I know only what I heard from him. He was in Malbork and gained powerful patronage there—the Master's brother, who is the foremost knight among them. By his order, Zbyszko was allowed to search through all the castles."
"For Jurand and Danushka?"
"Yes, but he didn't search for Jurand because they told him he was dead."
"Tell it from the beginning."
"In a moment, just let me catch my breath and come to my senses, because I'm returning from another world."
"What do you mean, another world?"
"From that world which one cannot reach on horseback, but can reach through prayer... from the feet of Our Lord Christ, where I begged for mercy for Jurand."
"You prayed for a miracle? Do you have such power?" Macko asked with great curiosity.
"I have no power at all, but the Savior does, and if He wills, He can restore both Jurand's eyes and tongue and hand..."
"If He wills it, then surely He can," Macko replied. "But you didn't ask for just anything."
Father Kaleb said nothing—perhaps he hadn't heard, for his eyes still seemed dazed, and it was clear that he had been utterly lost in prayer before.
So he covered his face with his hands and sat in silence for a while. Finally he shook himself, rubbed his eyes with his palms, and then said:
"Now, ask."
"How did Zbyszko win over the Vogt of Sambia?"
"He's no longer the Vogt of Sambia."
"Never mind that... You know what I'm asking about, so tell me what you know."
"He won him over in a tournament. Ulryk likes to compete in the lists, and he did compete with Zbyszko, because there were many knightly guests in Malbork and the Master held a joust. Ulryk's saddle girth broke, and Zbyszko could easily have knocked him from his horse, but when he saw that, he threw his lance to the ground and steadied the swaying man."
"Hey! You see!" Macko exclaimed, turning to Jagienka. "That's why Ulryk grew fond of him."
"That's why he grew fond of him. He didn't want to joust any more with sharp or blunt lances, and he grew fond of him. Zbyszko also told him of his sorrow, and Ulryk, being a man who cared about knightly honor, blazed with terrible anger and took Zbyszko to his brother the Master to complain. God grant him salvation for that, because there are few among them who love justice. Zbyszko said that Lord de Lorche helped him greatly, because they respected him there for his high birth and wealth, and he in turn testified in Zbyszko's favor in everything."
"And what came of the complaint and that testimony?"
"This came of it: the Grand Master strictly commanded the Komtur of Szczytno to send all captives and prisoners in Szczytno to Malbork without delay, not excluding Jurand himself. As for Jurand, the Komtur wrote back that he had died of his wounds and was buried there by the church. The other prisoners he sent, among them was a half-wit girl, but our Danushka was not among them."
"I know from the squire Hlawa," said Macko, "that Rotger—the one killed by Zbyszko—also mentioned such a simpleton girl at Prince Janusz's court. He said they thought she was Jurand's daughter, and when the duchess replied that they knew the real Jurandówna and had seen that she was no simpleton, he said, 'True indeed, but I thought an evil spirit had changed her.'"
"That's what the Komtur wrote to the Master: that they didn't hold that girl in prison but had her in their care, having first taken her from bandits who swore she was the transformed Jurandówna."
"And the Master believed it?"
"He didn't know whether to believe it or not, but Ulryk burned with even greater anger and prevailed upon his brother to send an Order official with Zbyszko to Szczytno, which indeed happened. When they arrived in Szczytno, they no longer found the old Komtur, because he had set out for war with Witold toward the eastern castles. Only the vice-vogt was there, and the official ordered all the vaults and dungeons opened. So they searched and searched, and found nothing. They also put people to the question. One man there told Zbyszko that the chaplain could tell them a great deal, since the chaplain understood the mute executioner. But the old Komtur had taken the executioner with him, and the chaplain had gone to Königsberg for some ecclesiastical congress. They often meet there and send complaints against the Krzyżaks to the Pope, because even the poor priests suffer under them..."
"What surprises me is that they didn't find Jurand!" Macko remarked.
"Because obviously the old Komtur had released him earlier. There was more malice in that release than if they had simply killed him. They wanted him to suffer before death as much as—ah!—and more than a man of his station could endure. Blind, mute, and without his right hand—fear God! Unable to find his way home, or to ask for directions or for bread... They thought he'd die of hunger somewhere, or drown in some water. What did they leave him? Nothing but the memory of what he was and the awareness of his misery. And that is torture beyond torture! Perhaps he sat somewhere by a church or at the roadside, and Zbyszko passed by and didn't recognize him. Perhaps he even heard Zbyszko's voice, but couldn't call out to him... Ah!... Ah!... I can't hold back the tears! God performed a miracle that you met him, and for that reason I believe He will perform an even greater one, even though my unworthy and sinful lips beg Him for it."
"And what else did Zbyszko say? Where was he going?" asked Macko.
"He said this: 'I know Danushka was in Szczytno, but they abducted her and either starved her to death or took her away. Old de Loewe did it, and so help me God, I won't rest until I get him.'"
"He said that? Then he must have ridden toward the eastern commanderies, but there's war there now."
"He knew there was war, and that's why he went to Prince Witold. He said he could achieve more against the Krzyżaks through him than through the king himself."
"To Prince Witold!" Macko cried, springing up.
Then he turned to Jagienka:
"You see? That's what wisdom is! Didn't I say the same thing? I predicted, as sure as I'm alive, that we'd have to go to Witold..."
"Zbyszko hoped," said Father Kaleb, "that Witold would invade Prussia and lay siege to the castles there."
"If they give him time, he won't hesitate," replied Macko. "Well! Praise God, at least we know where to look for Zbyszko."
"Then we must set out at once!" said Jagienka.
"Hush!" Macko exclaimed. "It's not fitting for servants to offer advice."
Having said that, he gave her a meaningful look, as if reminding her that she was a servant, and she came to her senses and fell silent.
Then Macko thought for a moment and said:
"We'll surely find Zbyszko now, because he'll certainly be nowhere else but at Prince Witold's side. But we also need to know if he still has anything else to seek in this world besides those Krzyżak heads he vowed."
"And how can we find that out?" asked Father Kaleb.
"If I knew that the chaplain from Szczytno had already returned from the synod, I'd want to see him," answered Macko. "I have Lichtenstein's letters, so I can travel safely to Szczytno."
"It wasn't a synod, just a congress," replied Father Kaleb, "and the chaplain must have returned long ago."
"That's good. Leave the rest to me. I'll take Hlawa, two servants with warhorses in case of need, and I'll go."
"And then to Zbyszko?" asked Jagienka.
"And then to Zbyszko, but in the meantime you'll stay here and wait until I return from Szczytno. I think I won't be away more than three or four days. My bones are tough, and hardship is nothing new to me. But first, Father Kaleb, I'll ask you for a letter to the chaplain of Szczytno. He'll trust me more easily if I show him your letter... there's always greater trust between priests."
"People speak well of that chaplain," said Father Kaleb. "And if anyone knows anything, it's him."
By evening he had written the letter, and the next day, before sunrise, old Macko was no longer in Spychów.
The text is public domain. License details available on the author's website: Henryk Sienkiewicz.