# Zawis and Kunigunde/Chapter 6

CHAPTER VI.
FURSTENBERG: FRIENDS AND FOES.
The speedy arrival of Lord Zawis, accompanied by his train and a number of strangers, some of whom seemed to be ecclesiastics, although their dress did not distinctly announce that character, created order in the prevailing noise and confusion.
The residents of the fortress at once indicated by their strict demeanor the trained habits of persons subject to formal discipline under a leader whom they feared and respected. After a brief rest and a hasty meal, rendered doubly necessary by the destitute condition of the country, Lord Zawis assembled all the persons now present within the walls.
Addressing the motley throng, he said: “The present calamitous condition of public affairs compels us to take instant measures for our safety. We are situated now on the frontier of Bohemia, and may feel the first shock. We are imperfectly prepared for defence. Our means, scanty as they are, most heartily I place at your disposal, but those persons whose homes lie beyond us will act with prudence if they join their friends and prepare against impending perils. Our garrison and immediate friends must instantly assume a fixed place and ​specific duties.” Hereupon Lord Witek, without further order, summoned the garrison to their ranks, and assigned each his post. Those who could claim no residence retired north or west, taking with them many fugitives. Remained now Pietro, Eudocia and her companions; the ecclesiastics, and a number of refugees too much exhausted for travel. Seeing Pietro, Lord Zawis requested him to retire into the main hall, where he would converse with him apart.
To the ecclesiastical strangers Lord Zawis approached regarding them steadfastly, retaining a few of his own trusted followers about his person. The strangers had traveled well-mounted and seemed to be men well used to knightly duties. Their bearing appeared soldierly, and they recognized one leader who signified his commands by signs. Over a semi-military dress, including a cuirass, they bore a dark robe; and over this outer dress hung suspended an emblem of a new device. It consisted of a cross of equal arms, fleurie, quarterly sable and argent. “Friends,” exclaimed Lord Zawis, “and I think I may add, brothers in arms, the rules of hospitality and knighthood compel me to bid you welcome. But the times require me also to discover friend from foe. Who are you, and whence do you come? The badge you wear is new to me, and if mistake not, foreign also.” “We are of the Order of Jesus Christ,” replied the spokesman, “and we require all persons faithful to the church, and the foes of heresy,to marshal themselves with us, under such penalties as the church may ​order.” “You are welcome, Sir Knight,” replied Lord Zawis. “I know of no heretics in Bohemia, except those who conspire against the ancient laws and constitutional independence of our country. From your profession of faith, you will, of necessity, aid in repelling foreign aggression on our walls, and obey, like good knights, the orders of the highest authority of the fortress.” ‘We will obey such orders as are conformable to our specific duties, and none other,” replied the spokesman. “I am entitled to know your name and rank,” said Lord Zawis, “and those of your companions.” “My name in knighthood is Brother Primus,” replied the stranger, “and my companions are named Brother Secundus, and Brother Tertius. We claim no preéminence but such as more success in uprooting heresy may confer.” At this point Lord Witek arrived, and after brief conference with him Lord Zawis said: “My brother will assign you quarters; and if you are not perfectly content therewith, and further, if you do not exhibit to my satisfaction the soldierly subordination that your professed knighthood requires, and demean yourselves as true men, you shall receive more than liberty to retire whither you will.”
Perplexed by the apparition of these strangers, Lord Zawis retired to his own apartments for reflection. “Would I had good Lord Boppo here,” he exclaimed in a low tone. “These intruders bode us no good, and Lord Boppo is fully advised of their probable character. I had not heard of the Order of Jesus Christ, and I surmise it is one of those new ​imitations of chivalry that would pervert the loftiest impulses of true manhood from the defence of the pilgrim, and the protection of dames and children, to the distorted and evil energy of fanatics’ cruelty, against the inherent right of every man to cbey in his thoughts and actions those impulses of his own, constitution that are the necessary expression of the qualities his Maker has thought good to have him consist of. In obeying those impulses in thought, belief and action, he truly utters the voice that God has endowed him with.”
Absorbed in these reflections, Lord Zawis passed within. Pietro retired to the great hall, and here Eudocia sat, and two or three apparently aged women near her. As Pietro entered Eudocia wearily advanced to meet him. “We are indebted to you,” she said quietly, “for most timely and generous aid in great peril. Truly our good Father did not prepare sacrifice at the hands of those sons of Belial. He has, I trust, reserved us for some more signal act of conformity to his eternal purposes. My companions, who are exhausted by travel, have charged me to express their thanks and blessings.” Being reassured still further by the predestinarian tone of these words. Pietro relinquished all pretence of disguise. “Sister,” he replied courteously, “I am but a younger son in my father’s house. Called by his inward voice, I seek that full consolation that only the perfect can partake of.” A beaming eye, a graceful smile, and gently extended hand, on both sides revealed at once that unanimity of faith, that trust​fulness of soul, and individual serenity that marked the union of two minds and, unknown to each, of two hearts, in that sacred amity of inner life that betokened, according to Solomon ben Gerson’s philosophy, a spirit emanating from the eternal Unity itself, and forming the connecting link between the divine Oneness and the identity of love and peace that rendered the blending hearts of Pietro and Eudocia indissolubly one forever.
“Reverend Barba,” timidly said Eudocia—“Peace and a blessing, child of the spirit,” interposed Pietro; “where hearts are full many words are not needed. You are weary, be seated.” Taking her hand gently, he led her to a seat, and between those hands there passed those tokens of faith, recognition and mutual assurance, that thrilled their confiding hearts, and poured forth in a steady look of love and tenderness that spoke the angel grace of purity and peace. “I have,” said Pietro, “a token; perhaps you can enlighten me respecting it.” In order to extract the ribbon from his robe, Pietro first drew forth the cross of ivory. Seeing this emblem, Eudocia exclaimed in amazement: “Where, whence, how, did your faithful hand acquire possession of that lost emblem?” Pietro briefly stated the events, alluding to the brief sojourn with Lord Boppo, “My father,” exclaimed Eudocia again; “my father!” and sank in her seat overpowered by her emotions. After a pause, “That cross,” explained Eudocia, “formed one of the final gifts sent by our lamented king from his camp to his loved queen, Kunigunde. It was reft from us ​with other treasures by a band of Cumanian plunderers. Probably it now forms the only memorial sent by the gallant Otakar that can be found.”
“The case,” added Pietro, “remains with my fellow traveler, who has, I fear, departed towards Hungary and Poland, whither he was bound. But it can be recovered, as the excellent Solomon will preserve it in all fidelity.”
Here a summons to the presence of Lord Zawis compelled Pietro to retire, and another full, fond look, another clasp of confiding hands, another smile of tenderness, with open eye that beamed full of the guileless soul within, and Pietro and Eudocia went from each other’s presence, happy indeed, but soon to need all the elastic strength that inspiring sympathy can impart.
Arrived in presence of Lord Zawis, Pietro saluted with much gravity. “Worthy stranger,” exclaimed the knight somewhat abruptly, “I have reason to inquire your errand in these countries.” Calmly Pietro withdrew from his robe the packet containing the pennon handed to him by Lord Boppo. Tendering this symbol in silence. Pietro again saluted gravely. Taking the token, Zawis regarded it with care. Then raising his Jooks full to Pietro’s face and being thus further assured, Zawis said: “My good friend, how came you by this? I ask that question, as I know that many similar tokens have lately fallen into unworthy hands.” In reply Pietro drew from his wallet a manuscript carefully enveloped. It was a Catharic translation of the New Testament, with ​the formularies appended of the Catharic ordination ceremonial. Pietro also presented to Zawis a black cross, potent at each arm. “It was your uncle’s badge,” exclaimed Pietro; “and bears on it only the mark of the original institution, undefiled by the gold of covetousness or the eagle symbol of slavery.”
“Forgive my caution, excellent brother,” now said Zawis seriously, “but the times, and imminent perils and conspiracies require it. Henceforward you will find Zawis, and all he has, devotedly at your service.” Pietro then explained that Lord Boppo, Solomon, Duke Nicolas and a host of others had been dragged off towards Hungary. “Ladislaus has become our enemy,” said Zawis, “now that he openly dares to exhibit himself. We may expect cruelties from his cowardly and treacherous character. Henceforward he serves Rudolph and Rome, in expectation of profiting thereby. But both Rudolph and his Roman masters always exact full price for what they do. Rudolph seeks lands for his daughters; and the pope covets money and power, and wields his spiritual weapons to subjugate nations more than to people heaven. But as you seem to be somewhat learned in heraldic devices, what means the new badge borne by our ecclesiastical knights just arrived?”
“It is the badge of the new Order of Jesus Christ,” replied Pietro. “It was instituted against the Albigeois in France, and its presence here means a similar crusade against Bohemia.” Looking seriously downward, Zawis said as if to himself: “I would ​Lord Boppo were here.” Then addressing Pietro, he said: “I must exact a serious service. I must commission you to Hungary if possible to discover Lord Boppo and release him.” “I feel honored by the commission,” replied Pietro, “and as my solemn principle excludes oaths at all times, so I believe it renders asseverations of fidelity unnecessary.”
“Be prepared,” said Zawis; “I may need your courage and prudence on more momentous embassies afterwards.”
Being warden of the fortress, Lord Witek kept close watch during the following night. When all was dark and still he observed approaching him on the rampart, or rather a portion of wall connecting two of the towers, which, with other works built square, formed the fence without an outer encircling line, three dark figures. Instantly giving the challenge, one figure advanced and said: “By virtue of my commission I have the right to inspect all castles within my jurisdiction at any hour.” “By whose commission?” sharply returned Lord Witek. “By commission of my Lord Bruno of Olmütz, countersigned by his majesty the emperor, now Lord of Bohemia,” retorted Brother Primus. “I recognize no such commission,” fiercely answered Lord Witek. “Ho, guard!” Speedily six stout fellows sprang forward from the adjoining towers.
“Conduct these men to their apartments instantly,” ordered the warden; “and permit no further dark inspection of these ramparts; especially,” he added pointedly, “on this side, where an enemy, if any there ​be, will certainly approach.” Slowly, reluctantly, and still taking all possible observations, the strangers marched under guard to the apartments originally assigned to them.
The occurence being at once reported to Lord Zawis, the three members of the Order of Jesus Christ appeared before their indignant host soon after dawn. “Depart at once from these premises,” commanded Zawis. “Every principle of knighthood, hospitality and honor, you have violated. I grieve to find the sacred name of Jesus Christ associated with such dark treachery.” “Is there no grace for needed refreshment?” replied Brother Primus. “The dungeon or the highway is your only choice,” exclaimed Zawis. “Begone!” A strong guard immediately conducted the prisoners to the outer gate. Resting at a short distance, the strangers viewed the fortress, pointing out the chief features to each other. Slowly they departed towards Moravia. A brief inquiry revealed the fact that abundant provisions had been furnished to them by some person in the castle whose name remained concealed.
The first meal over, a kind of family council of war assembled. The menacing aspect of affairs, the desolation of the kingdom, the appalling ruin impending, created the most grave apprehension. “Our first care must be to provision our fortress,” declared Zawis. “The fugitives have not wholly ceased to reach us. Our numbers are unusual, and we know not how soon we may receive a visit from our recent guests under other and more avowed conditions. On ​the side of Bohemia we are safe. Rudolph’s allies have departed. He is poor. Otakar has fallen indeed; but the electors do not desire to see Rudolph suddenly too powerful. He would receive no aid for the subversion of the kingdom; but he and his present advisers will undermine our institutions, divide us into parties worse than at present; will stimulate some against the more independent by promises and by corruption, and thus will sow a full crop of dissension. Politically and with the strong hand, he will do that which his new allies have secretly prepared for during the more recent reigns of our august but deluded dynasty.”
“Have not the Przemysls been always loyally devoted to Bohemia?” inquired Lord Witek.
“By intention, yes,” replied Lord Zawis,“but they have been duped. The insidious course of recent reigns can be best expressed by one word ‘Sentimentalism’ in politics, and religion. During four centuries of our history we were Bohemians devoted to Bohemia. Our civilization, such as it was, grew up within ourselves, tinctured indeed by such coloring as our commercial associations supplied. The natural tendencies and native mind of our people shaped our politics. We grew from within, and we progressed in the line that a growing community, guided by effervescing human virtues and instincts, permitted. Reason, heart, conscience, as our Maker bestowed them on us, controlled our actions. But within two centuries past a gradually insinuated alien sentimentalism has been substituted. We have been ​taught that a divine commission to enlighten and dominate us has been conferred on an Italian ecclesiastic. His place and his character have been insidiously exhibited to our youth as the representatives of heaven. His agents, introducing themselves into our schools, have silently and stealthily stolen the sympathies of the young towards the assumptions of this Italian. He is held up asa god. From a teacher of morality he advanced to become a dictator of education; from the position of educator he leaped into the attitude of dictator of social duties. From this posture he assumed to suggest first, and then to control policies; and now we behold him the open ally of our enemies, aiming at our complete subjugation. During this process the current of national sympathy has been enlisted in favor of an alien who has no interest in our manufacturing or scientific industries, and is only bent on extracting from us good money in exchange for sentimentalism, and alleged benedictions. The respect of our, population has been diverted from our own magistrates towards an overlauded foreigner who has thrust himself into our civil and social life, and assumes the functions of government by these indirect means, although he has never been, and could not be elected to any direct authority in conformity with our laws. I am reminded of a warning in the gospel that applies to civil as well as to religious order. ‘He that entereth not by the door into the sheepfold, but climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber.’ False sentimentalism has been substituted for the practical sense that previously guided us.
​“Bohemia, on the verge of Europe, and largely influenced by eastern civilization and habits of thought, has long formed an obstacle to the ambition of this Italian. By an insidious bargain with the present emperor, who has renounced all claim on Italy in exchange for the fair provinces of the Tchekh, that never belonged either to emperor or pope, this Italian now gathers armies even from Tartars and Cumanians for our overthrow. He assumed to come as an apostle; he claimed our conscience, then our thoughts, then our policies, and now he fills our academies, our homes, our fortresses with his agents, who obey and exalt him first, and pretend some concern for our laws in order that they may pervert them still more insidiously to our enslavement. His agents rob our city treasuries that they may buy meretricious honors from him. He has done this in every country, until from being an apostle without scrip or sandal, he places his iron-shod heel on the necks of kings. Our walls may crumble, our lives may be forfeited, but there is a soul in Bohemia that will outlive Italian craft and Roman domination.”
At this point report announced the approach at the distance of a few miles of a strange company of persons on foot, all in habit, looks, gestures and language different from aught hitherto observed.
“I surmise,” said Lord Zawis, “that these strangers are the unfortunates whose approach from the west had been vaguely intimated to me before the recent battle.”
Lord Witek, Pietro and a small guard went forth ​to a neighboring eminence to accost the strangers. Seeing them approach, the travelers drew up in an irregular line on one side of the highway. Being beckoned into the adjoining land, they refused, and pointed each with a staff to the road as the only place for them. In numbers several hundreds, clad in rags, limbs bound in coarse bandages, many with rough branches for crutches, many others painfully limping, all emaciated, dirty and cadaverous.
“They are the lepers from the Frankish country,” exclaimed Pietro. “They are returning to their own land, as these regions are exhausted, and they can find no sustenance.” With some difficulty Lord Witek and Pietro prevailed on the leader to advance from the rest a short space. To the question, “Who are you, and why come you here?” the spokesman replied, after carefully placing himself below the wind: “We are the afflicted of the Lord. Upon us he has laid the plague of leprosy. We come here because, although there are in our own land more than two thousand leproseries, all crowded until not one poor cabin, of the hundreds in each asylum, can hold another patient, yet our affliction multiplies our numbers until not a foot of space remains. We burrow in the hillsides for a momentary shelter. We dare not leave the highways, as death is the penalty. By-paths, markets, churches and above all meat stalls are forbidden. We dare not bathe in any stream or even draw water from it. A morsel of bread in the place I point to is all we crave,” “Whither go you?” inquired Lord Witek. ​“To our own land. We were more than three thousand from different provinces; now we number scarcely four hundred.”
With this most piteous tale, the wretched wayfarers, after receiving such a dole as could be hurriedly deposited for them, departed; those who could do so sounding the hoarse clickety of their wooden leper rattles as they went. This distressing scene being at once reported, “Alas,” said Eudocia, “we are not wholly free from this affliction. One unhappy woman found exhausted a year ago by some of our cultivators, and refusing to approach a dwelling, was hidden for shelter in a hut of branches and earth. I found her by accident during my visits to the sick with medicine and food. Kind persons gave her a goat to supply her with some nourishment, and I have just been informed that certain strangers recently here, notified by some person of the facts, and declaring that the poor goat would spread pestilence and that the manifest will of the Lord upon the impenitent must not be thwarted by a goat, the symbol of sin, ordered the poor dumb, beneficent creature to be slain.” Eudocia found further recital impossible, and a sad silence told the mingled wrath and pity of the assembly.
“You will attend me this afternoon,” said Zawis to Pietro. “We have no time to lose.”
“Brief words, Eudocia,” said Pietro when they met in the large hall, where one of the elderly women, before mentioned, carefully watched, “are all now allowed to us. Though you shall not be with me ​in presence, yet the real image of your being that represents you before the Father, and is the true soul whereof you are the worthy substance, shall be ever at my side, not to whisper, but to infuse such words, not in tone but essence, as I know your good heart would bless me with.”
“And my heart enshrines you, Pietro, as that eternal similitude to mine, given before the worlds were, to form our united perfection in the eternal Oneness. I pray not, as our Euchitce brethren, for your peace which is eternal love from above; but I commune with you through the gracious spirit in whom we dwell.”
“To your keeping I commit this,” said Pietro, handing her the cross. “I will endeavor to procure the case that enclosed it.”
“You will deliver this packet to the king of Hungary,” said Lord Zawis, when Pietro appeared before him. “I rely on your prudence and courage. Lord Boppo will return with you. His presence and influence can procure us allies in the north such as no other living man can command.” A small donation of money Pietro declined, as the effigy on the coins must betray him.