III.
In the forests, a mile east of Kaunas — which Witold himself had destroyed — Skirwoiłło's main forces were stationed. From there, they shifted like lightning as needed, launching swift raids into Prussian territory or against castles and fortresses still held by the Krzyżacy, keeping the flame of war alive throughout the land.
It was there that Zbyszko's faithful squire found him, along with Macko, who had arrived only two days earlier.
After greeting Zbyszko, Czech slept like the dead the whole night. Only the following evening did he go to greet the old knight. Macko, weary and angry, received him crossly, demanding to know why he hadn't stayed in Spychowa as ordered. He softened only when Czech, finding an opportune moment when Zbyszko was not in the tent, explained that Jagienka had expressly ordered him otherwise.
He also said that aside from the order and his natural eagerness for war, another reason brought him here: the desire to immediately send a messenger to Spychowa in case of need. "The young lady," he said, "who has the soul of an angel, prays for Jurandówna even against her own good. But everything must end. If Jurandówna is dead, may God grant her eternal light, for she was as innocent as a lamb. But if she turns up, the young lady must be informed as soon as possible, so she can leave Spychowa at once — not after Jurandówna's return, as if driven out in shame and disgrace."
Macko listened with displeasure, repeating now and then: "That's none of your business." But Hlawa, having decided to speak plainly, was not bothered by this and finally said:
"It would have been better for the lady to stay in Zgorzelice; this journey was for nothing. We convinced the poor thing that Jurandówna was already dead, but it may turn out otherwise."
"And who spread the story that she was dead if not you?" Macko asked angrily. "You should have held your tongue. I brought her along because she was afraid of Cztan and Wilk."
"That was just a pretext," replied the squire. "She could have stayed safely in Zgorzelice, because those two would have hindered each other. But you were afraid, sir, that if Jurandówna died, the young lady might slip away from Zbyszko, so you took her."
"What's made you so insolent? Are you already a knight, not a servant?"
"I am your servant, but I am also the lady's servant, so I care that no shame comes to her."
And Macko grew gloomy, for he was not pleased with himself. He had already reproached himself many times for taking Jagienka from Zgorzelice, feeling that in any case, bringing Jagienka to Zbyszko like this was a slight to her, and if Danusia turned up — worse than a slight. He also felt that there was truth in the squire's bold words, and that he had mainly taken the girl to keep her for Zbyszko in case of need.
"Well, it never crossed my mind," he said, trying to fool both himself and Czech. "She insisted on coming herself."
"Of course she insisted, because we convinced her that the other one was no longer in this world, and that it was safer for her brothers without her than with her — so she went."
"You're the one who convinced her!" cried Macko.
"Me — and my fault. But now the truth must come out. We must accomplish something, sir. Otherwise, we'd better die."
"What can you accomplish here," Macko said impatiently, "with such an army, in such a war? If anything better is to happen, it won't be until July, because the Krzyżacy have two war seasons: winter and dry summer. Right now it's just smoldering, not burning. Prince Witold has apparently gone to Kraków to report to the king and gain his permission and assistance."
"But there are castles of the Krzyżacy nearby. If we could capture even two of them, we might find Jurandówna, or news of her death."
"Or nothing at all."
"It was in this direction that Siegfried took her. They told us so in Szczytno and everywhere, and we thought so ourselves."
"Have you seen this army? Step outside the tent and look. Some have only clubs, others have copper swords handed down from their grandfathers."
"Well! From what I hear, the lads are good fighters!"
"But it's not for them, with their bare bellies, to storm castles — especially those of the Krzyżacy."
Their further conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Zbyszko and Skirwoiłło, who was the leader of the Samogitians.
He was a man of small stature, like a boy, but sturdy and broad-shouldered. His chest was so convex that it almost looked like a hump, and his arms were exceedingly long, reaching to his knees. Overall, he reminded one of Zyndram of Maszkowice, the famous knight whom Macko and Zbyszko had once met in Kraków, for he had an equally huge head and the same bow-legged stance. It was also said that he had a good understanding of war. He had spent his life in the field, fighting against the Tatars — with whom he had waged war for many years in Ruthenia — and against the Krzyżacy, whom he hated like the plague. From these wars he learned Ruthenian, and later, at Witold's court, some Polish. As for German, he knew only three words, or at least only repeated three: fire, blood, and death. In his enormous head, he always had a wealth of ideas and military stratagems that the Krzyżacy could neither foresee nor prevent — which is why he was feared in the border commanderies.
"We were talking about the expedition," Zbyszko said to Macko with unusual animation. "That's why we came here — so you could give your experienced opinion."
Macko seated Skirwoiłło on a pine stump covered with bearskin, then ordered the servants to bring a small keg of mead. The knights began to dip their tin cups and drink. When they had refreshed themselves properly, Macko asked:
"Do you want to mount an expedition, or what?"
"To smoke out the Germans' castles..."
"Which one?"
"Ragneta or New Kaunas."
"Ragneta," said Zbyszko. "Four days ago we were at New Kaunas and they beat us."
"Exactly," said Skirwoiłło.
"How so?"
"Good."
"Wait," said Macko, "for I don't know this region. Where is New Kaunas, and where is Ragneta?"
"From here to Old Kaunas is barely a mile," answered Zbyszko, "and from Old Kaunas to New Kaunas is also a mile. The castle is on an island. The day before yesterday we tried to cross, but they defeated us at the crossing. They chased us half a day until we hid in these woods, and the army scattered so much that some only showed up this morning."
"And Ragneta?"
Skirwoiłło stretched out his long, branch-like arm toward the north and said:
"Far! Far..."
"Precisely because it's far!" replied Zbyszko. "There's peace all around there, because any armed men from this side of the border have been drawn toward us. The Krzyżacy don't expect any attack there now, so we'll strike them off guard."
"He speaks rightly," said Skirwoiłło.
And Macko asked:
"Do you think we'll be able to capture the castle itself?"
At this, Skirwoiłło shook his head in negation, and Zbyszko answered:
"The castle is strong, so only by chance. But we'll ravage the countryside, burn villages and towns, destroy supplies, and above all, take prisoners — among whom there may be important men. The Krzyżacy are eager to ransom such men, or else exchange them..."
Here he turned to Skirwoiłło:
"You yourself, Prince, admitted that I speak rightly, and now just consider: New Kaunas is on an island. We won't destroy any villages there, we won't seize any herds, we won't take any prisoners. And besides, they just beat us. Hey! Let's rather go where they don't expect us now."
"He who wins is least likely to expect an attack," muttered Skirwoiłło.
But then Macko spoke up and began to support Zbyszko's opinion, for he understood that the young man had a better chance of learning something near Ragneta than near New Kaunas, and that near Ragneta it would be easier, above all, to capture some important prisoner who could be used for exchange. He also thought that in any case it was better to go farther and suddenly emerge into a less guarded region than to attack an island that was naturally defensible and additionally protected by a strong castle and a victorious garrison.
And as a man experienced in war, he spoke clearly and cited such weighty reasons that he could convince anyone. The others listened attentively. Skirwoiłło occasionally raised his eyebrows, as if in agreement, and at times muttered, "He speaks rightly." Finally, he tucked his enormous head between his broad shoulders, so that he looked completely hunchbacked, and fell into deep thought.
But after a while, he stood up and, without saying a word, began to take his leave.
"And how will it be, Prince?" Macko asked him. "Where will we march?"
He answered briefly:
"To New Kaunas."
And he left the tent.
Macko and Czech looked at Zbyszko with surprise for a while, then the old knight slapped his thighs with his hands and exclaimed:
"Tfu! What a blockhead! He listens and listens, then does his own thing. A waste of breath!"
"I've heard about him that he's like that," replied Zbyszko. "And truth be told, the whole nation here is as stubborn as can be. They listen to someone else's opinion, then it's like blowing in the wind."
"Then why does he ask?"
"Because we're knights, and so that every matter can be considered from both sides. But he's not stupid."
"Near Kaunas, they may also least expect us," observed Czech, "precisely because they just beat you. In that, he was right."
"Let's go see the men I command," said Zbyszko, feeling stuffy in the tent. "We need to tell them to be ready."
And they went out. Outside, night had fully fallen — cloudy and dark, lit only by the campfires around which the Samogitians sat.
This text is in the public domain. For license details, see the author's page: Henryk Sienkiewicz.