With Fire and Sword by Henryk Sienkiewicz (big ebook reader .txt) 📕

knight; but the ancients might envy such a blow, for the best executioner could not give a better.”

“The wind does not take off caps as those heads were taken!” said another.

All pressed the palms of Pan Longin; but he stood with downcast eyes, sunshiny, sweet, timid as a maiden before marriage, and said as if in explanation: “They were in good position.”

Then they tested the sword; but since it was the double-handed sword of a crusader, no man could move it freely, not excepting even the priest Jabkovski, though he could break a horseshoe like a reed.

Around the tent it grew noisier; and Zagloba, Skshetuski, and Volodyovski did the honors to the visitors, treating them with stories, for they had nothing else to give them since the last biscuits in the camp had been eaten; they had long had no other meat than dried horseflesh. But valor gave them meat and drink. Toward the end, when the others began to disperse, Marek Sobieski appeared with his lieutenant, Stempovski. Pan Longin ran out to meet him; the starosta greeted him with thanks, and said⁠—

“It is a holiday with you?”

“In truth it is a holiday,” answered Zagloba, “for our friend has fulfilled a vow.”

“Praise be to the Lord God!” answered the starosta. “Then it is not long, brother, till we may congratulate you on your marriage. And have you anyone in mind?”

Pan Longin was extremely confused, grew red to his ears; and the starosta continued⁠—

“I see by your confusion that you have. It is your sacred duty to remember that such a stock should not perish.”

Then he pressed the hands of Pan Longin, Skshetuski, Zagloba, and the little knight; and they were rejoiced in their hearts to hear praise from such lips, for the starosta of Krasnostav was the mirror of bravery, honor, and every knightly virtue⁠—he was an incarnate Mars. All the gifts of God were richly united in him, for in remarkable beauty he surpassed even his younger brother Yan, who was afterward king. He was equal in fortune and name to the very first, and the great Yeremi himself exalted his military gifts to the skies. He would have been a wonderful star in the heaven of the Commonwealth, but that by the disposition of God, the younger, Yan, took his glory to himself, and Marek vanished before his time in a day of disaster.

Hitherto our knights had rejoiced greatly at the praises of this hero; but he did not stop at that, and continued⁠—

“I have heard much of you from the prince himself, who loves you beyond others. I do not wonder that you serve him without reference to promotion, which comes more readily in the regiments of the king.”

“We are all,” answered Skshetuski, “really enrolled in the hussar regiment of the king, except Pan Zagloba, who is a volunteer from native valor. We serve under the prince, first, out of love for his person, and, secondly, because we wish to have as much as we can of the war.”

“If such be your wish, you have chosen well. Surely Pan Podbipienta could not have found his heads under any other command so easily. But as to war in these times, we all have enough of it.”

“More than of anything else,” said Zagloba. “Men have been coming here from early morning with praises; but if anyone would ask us to a bite of food and a drink of gorailka, he would honor us best.”

Having said this, Zagloba looked diligently into Sobieki’s eyes, and muttered unquietly; but the starosta sighed, and said⁠—

“Since yesterday noon I have taken nothing into my mouth. A gulp of gorailka, however, I think can be found somewhere. I am at your service, gentlemen, for that.”

Skshetuski, Pan Longin, and Volodyovski began to draw back and scold Zagloba, who extricated himself as he could and explained matters as he was able.

“I did not press myself,” said he, “for it is my ambition rather to give away my own than touch what belongs to another; but when such a distinguished person invites, it would be churlish to refuse.”

“Well, come on!” said the starosta. “I like to sit in good company, and while there is no firing we have time. I do ask you to eat, for it is difficult to get horseflesh⁠—for each horse killed on the square a hundred hands are stretched forth; but there are two flasks of gorailka which certainly I shall not keep for myself.”

The others were unwilling, and refused; but when he insisted urgently, they went. Pan Stempovski hurried on in advance, and exerted himself so that a few biscuits and some bits of horseflesh were found as a bite after the gorailka. Zagloba was in better spirits immediately, and said⁠—

“God grant the king, to liberate us from this siege, then we will go at once to the wagons of the general militia. They always carry a world of good things with them, and care more for their stomachs than they do for the Commonwealth. I’d rather eat with them than fight in their company; but being under the eye of the king, perhaps they will fight fairly well.”

The starosta grew serious. “Since we have sworn,” said he, “to fall one after another without surrender, we shall do so. We must be ready for still harder times. We have scarcely any provisions, and what is worse, our powder is coming to an end. I should not say this to others, but to you I can speak. Soon we shall have nothing but desperate determination in our hearts and sabres in our hands, readiness for death, and nothing more. God grant the king to come at the earliest moment, for this is our last hope! He is a military man, and is sure not to spare life, health, or comfort in rescuing us; but his forces are too few, and he must wait⁠—you know how slowly the general militia muster. Besides, how is the king to