With Fire and Sword - Henryk Sienkiewicz (ink book reader .TXT) 📗

the whole army to Zbaraj. Let the will of God be done! There we shall discover whether the Khan is present or not.”

The chancellor knew the daring of the king, restrainable by nothing, and he doubted not that he was ready to do this. On the other hand he knew from experience that when the king had something in view and was opposed in the undertaking, no dissuasion was of avail. Therefore he did not oppose him at once, he even praised the idea; but he dissuaded from haste, explained to the king that it could be done tomorrow or the day after. In the mean while favorable news might come. Every day would increase the dissension of the rabble, weakened by disasters at Zbaraj and by the news of his Majesty’s approach. The rebellion might dissolve from the presence of the king, as snow from the rays of the sun, but time was necessary.

“The king bears within himself the salvation of the whole Commonwealth, and responsibility before God and posterity. He should not expose himself, especially since, in case of misfortune, the forces at Zbaraj would be lost beyond redemption.”

“Do what you like, if I only have an informant tomorrow.”

Again a moment of silence. An enormous golden moon shone in through the window; but it was darker in the room, for the tapers needed trimming.

“What o’clock?” asked the king.

“Almost midnight,” answered Radzeyovski.

“I will not sleep tonight. I will go around the camp, and do you go with me. Where are Ubald and Artsishevski?”

“In the camp. I will go and order the horses,” answered the starosta.

He approached the door. At that moment there was some movement in the antechamber; a lively conversation was audible, the sound of hurried steps; then the doors opened halfway, and Tyzenhauz, the personal attendant of the king, rushed in panting.

“Your Majesty,” cried he, “an officer has come from Zbaraj!”

The king sprang from his chair; the chancellor rose too, and from the mouths of both came the cry: “Impossible!”

“Yes, he is standing in the antechamber.”

“Bring him here!” cried the king, clapping his hands. “Let him end our anxiety. This way with him, in the name of the Most Holy Mother!”

Tyzenhauz vanished through the door, and after a moment there appeared instead of him some tall, unknown form.

“Nearer!” cried the king, “nearer! We are glad to see you.”

The officer pushed up to the table; and at sight of him, the king, the chancellor, and the starosta of Lomjin drew back in astonishment. Before them stood a kind of frightful-looking man, or rather an apparition. Rags torn to shreds barely covered his emaciated body; his face was blue, covered with mud and blood, his eyes burning with feverish light; his black tangled beard fell toward his breast; the odor of corpses went forth from him round about, and his legs trembled to such a degree that he was forced to lean on the table.

The king and the two dignitaries looked on him with staring eyes. At that moment the doors opened and a crowd of dignitaries, military and civil, came in; and among them, the generals Ubald and Artsishevski, with Sapieha, vice-chancellor of Lithuania. All stood behind the king, looking at the newly arrived.

The king asked: “Who are you?”

The miserable-looking man tried to speak, but a spasm seized his jaw; his beard began to tremble, and he was able only to whisper: “From⁠—Zbaraj!”

“Give him wine!” said a voice.

In the twinkle of an eye a goblet was filled; he drank it with difficulty. By this time the chancellor had taken off his own cloak and covered the man’s shoulders with it.

“Can you speak now?” inquired the king after a time.

“I can,” he answered, with a voice of more confidence.

“Who are you?”

“Yan Skshetuski, colonel of hussars.”

“In whose service?”

“The voevoda of Rus.”

A murmur spread through the hall.

“What news have you, what news have you?” asked the king, feverishly.

“Suffering⁠—hunger⁠—the grave⁠—”

The king covered his eyes. “Jesus of Nazareth! Jesus of Nazareth!” said he in a low voice. After a while he asked again: “Can you hold out long?”

“There is lack of powder. The enemy is on the ramparts.”

“In force?”

“Hmelnitski⁠—the Khan with all his hordes.”

“Is the Khan there?”

“He is.”

Deep silence followed. Those present looked at one another; uncertainty was on every face.

“How could you hold out?” asked the chancellor, with an accent of doubt.

At these words Skshetuski raised his head, as if new power entered him. A flash of pride passed over his face, and he answered with a voice strong beyond expectation: “Twenty assaults repulsed, sixteen battles in the field won, seventy-five sallies.”

Again silence followed.

Then the king straightened himself, shook his wig as a lion would his mane, on his sallow face came out a blush, and his eyes flashed. “As God lives!” cried he, “I’ve enough of these councils, of this halting, of this delay! Whether the Khan is there or not, whether the general militia has come or not, I have enough of this! We will move today on Zbaraj.”

“To Zbaraj! to Zbaraj!” was repeated by a number of powerful voices.

The face of the newly arrived brightened like the dawn. “Your Majesty, we will live and die with you.”

At these words the noble heart of the king grew soft as wax, and without regarding the repulsive appearance of the knight, he pressed his head with his hands and said: “You are dearer to me than others in satin. By the Most Holy Mother, men for less service are rewarded with starostaships. But what you have done will not pass unrewarded. I am your debtor.”

Others began immediately to call out after the king: “There has been no greater knight!” “He is the first among the men of Zbaraj!” “You have won immortal glory!”

“And how did you push through the Cossacks and Tartars?”

“I hid in the swamp, the reeds, went through the woods⁠—got astray⁠—ate nothing⁠—”

“Give him to eat!” cried the king.

“To eat!” repeated others.

“Clothe him!”

“They will give you horses and clothing tomorrow,” said the king again. “You shall want for nothing.”

All,