# Zawis and Kunigunde/Chapter 5

CHAPTER V.
PARTIES AND CONSPIRACIES.
Rudolph neither expected nor intended that this letter should be delivered. His purpose was to discover the real object of the visit of Solomon and Pietro to Bohemia. He already suspected that they were different from what they pretended to be. He therefore resolved to separate them, to keep them employed if possible, and in the meantime to watch their efforts to communicate with their probable allies. As usual where simple merit and ingenuousness combine, and real superiority is vestured in humble garb, and is found in strange surroundings, a suspicious mind associates them with deep and dangerous design. Integrity was not expected and therefore not believed.
In pursuance of his design, after his charge to Pietro, Rudolph summoned from among the captives a knight of unusually large stature. This person was a Thuringian named Valens, who had furiously charged Rudolph at the Marchfield, and had slain his horse and almost succeeded in creating a vacancy in the empire. “Valens,” said the emperous you are a tried soldier and a brave knight. I honor valor wherever I find it, and if I mistake not you ​are now released from any engagement on the Bohemian side.” Valens replied that he did not very clearly understand his position. But hitherto his campaign had been brief and unprofitable, and no prospect of better employment seemed before him. “I admire your energy and fidelity,” added the emperor, “and if you will serve me with as much honor as you served the King of Bohemia I shall know how to apportion you a recompense worthy of your knighthood.” “I gave my word to serve during the campaign,” replied Valens, “and as far as I can observe that is already ended. I know not how I am under further obligation.”
“So far as I can judge,” added the emperor, “service with me is now likely to be continuous. There is no formidable enemy, and although there will be many petty disturbers, chiefly robbers, I anticipate no further serious campaigns. Otakar’s body is now embalmed in Vienna, and his campaigns are over.” “Then I accept your highness’ proposition,” said Valens, “and I pledge my knightly word to a knight’s fidelity.”
Rudolph then instructed Valens to select such retinue as he chose among those whom he could undertake to control. “Your orders will be handed to you under seal in the morning. You will depart for the northwest at full day, and you will not break the seal of your orders until you have passed at least ten miles from the camp. You will depart with all possible quietness, and communicate your journey or its direction to no man.”
​Having dismissed Valens, Rudolph’s attention was at once engaged by his son Albert, Bishop Bruno, Seyfried von Ehrenberg, his brother Biernhard von Wolkiersdorf and Milota of Dedicz. These persons had been engaged in earnest conversation and had cast very frequent and angry glances towards the group containing Lord Zawis, Lord Boppo, the Chancellor, Solomon and Duke Nicolas, joined at a late hour by Otto the Tall of Brandenburg.
“Your highness may well argue some design of importance being fabricated,” observed Bruno. “I liked not the tone of the infidel Jew’s harangue this evening, although I think I divine your highness’ purpose in eliciting it.”
“Be at peace, good bishop,” replied Rudolph half gaily, and with that sardonic humor that he could assume; “that flock consists not of birds of one species, or they might fly together. There are too many varieties there to form one covey.”
“It is strange indeed that such apparent community of sentiment should be observable among men of such diverse origin and station,” observed Albert. “I like not these confidential associations. Mischief is easily brewed in such an earnest conclave, impromptu though it may have been.”
“Nicolas fought most viciously against us,” observed Seyfried von Ehrenberg, “and I cannot accept his sudden conversion to our side. But for his fierce resistance his tyrannical father must have fallen much earlier.”
“How know you that?” sharply inquired Rudolph.
​“Because it was my brother’s spear and mine that dispatched Otakar,” replied Seyfried.
“Wherefore was not this circumstance previously reported?” inquired the emperor with a severe look. “It was most important, and might have spared us a severe search. I am not pleased at this tardy report.” Thereupon Seyfried and his brother at once retired from the emperor’s presence. “Nicolas shall pay the penalty for this,” he muttered, “and that speedily if any favoring chance be presented.”
The emperor accosted the remaining group, and at once Lord Zawis addressed him. “We most loyally congratulate your highness,” said he; “previous opportunity did not present itself. Your highness may command our most ready and complete efforts to pacify and protect the open country now we fear subject to the inevitable consequences of defeat.”
“It may not become me to speak, perhaps,” observed Nicolas, who bore a striking resemblance to his father; “but if any: efforts of mine can render your highness’ task easier or more effectual in restoring order and industry, no more willing or loyal servant is now living.”
“Our new friend Solomon is versed in the art of government,” observed the Chancellor, “and his knowledge is as valuable as his talents are conspicuous. I am sure his counsel would aid us materially.”
“Gentlemen,” said Rudolph, “your expressions of loyalty and devotion are more welcome and timely than you seem to think. We move our camp tomorrow morning, and your presence at headquarters ​until further orders is hereby required. Your services shall be employed as there may be occasion. I must now seek a few hours recuperation.”
“That evil enemy of the Lord, an imperial counselor!” observed Bruno aside. “Perhaps I can find means to enlighten his highness of the error of his ways in that respect; and I doubt whether the infidel Solomon can long sustain himself in an exalted station from which the counsel of the Lord has long banished his race to be the despised of mankind.”
Solomon retired, as invited, to the quarters occupied by Don Abraham. Nicolas and Lord Zawis withdrew together, and Bishop Bruno also sought his resting place, but not to sleep. During several hours he penned a lengthy epistle to Rome, and giving in full detail a narration of the eventful day’s deliberations he earnestly sought for specific instructions, even for the minute particulars that he explained. The dispatch was entrusted to a dark-robed brother before daylight, and this messenger speedily and cautiously retired from the camp. “The Jew shall remember this day,” was Bruno’s last exclamation.
Early next morning Valens received sealed orders, and together with Pietro and a few troopers almost as wild looking as the depredators around, departed on his mission. The party traveled rapidly fora few miles. In fact the evidences of pillage abounded on every hand. Not a dwelling remained unransacked; the population apparently had fled. Some stray cattle and other domestic creatures wandered around aimlessly, as if in wonder, totaily untended. ​Wells were broken and filled in with stone and rubbish; fruit trees and vines hacked and broken; gates, doors, windows or the wide shutters that apologized for such, smashed in wantonness; fodder burned, smouldering fires in all directions. Further on the bodies of victims lay in fields, on the road, and in the ruined cottages. Still further the stronger fires still blazed, as the depredators advanced into the country. Broken domestic furniture, crockery and torn clothing lay around. Dogs yelped from behind the walls and then hurried snarling away. Some dead horses lay scattered, the shoes torn off. Ungarnered crops lay neglected, over-ripe, and fast spoiling in the sun. Hurried devastation everywhere. Smoke arose on every hill, and lay thick on every valley. The cavalcade advanced and at length sought for water. Every well had been broken in, and many contained the bodies of animals or human beings, or both. Every proof was presented of a most peaceful, industrious and thrifty agricultural population. Here and there a stronger edifice held out by walls or moat against the marauders; but in such case the fields had been wasted and, burned to the very gates. Measurement of the distance was entirely forgotten by the travelers. They hurried on hour after hour as well as the rough road would permit, the horses sweating in excess from want of water. “Our chargers’ feet are in bad condition,” said Valens, “neglected during several weeks, and should they cast shoes now our case would be inconvenient.” A range of low hills being passed, to​wards afternoon the party came in sight of a burning village situated in a rich and retired meadow. Here were assembled one troop of the miscreants, engaged in the fell work of plunder and devastation. The road traversed was not the most frequented in that region, and the main body had passed much further on in that direction. But this troop numbered about one hundred. The road was encumbered with rough wagons laden with spoil of every conceivable kind heaped hastily together. A score or more of vehicles were surrounded with a special guard. In these had been assembled a number of the younger women and grown girls from the plundered residences. They were all roughly bound to each other by the wrists and by the neck. In an open space in front of the little church a heap of church furniture and books had been collected and was at that moment blazing high. The church itself was already burning, and many bodies had been flung into it to be consumed. To this edifice the eyes of all the girls were directed; and when the flames shot up and roared, a piercing cry of lamentation and woe arose at once, for there the helpless maidens beheld the remains of parents and kindred, and some of younger brothers and sisters, consigned to incineration at the hands of savages incarnate. The agony of the girls was all the more poignant as not one hand could be lifted to dry a tear, or shade the evidences of misery behind the veil of shawl or of kerchief.
As the troop rode up, and the plunderers caught full view of the armed strangers, they at once gathered ​for a conflict. “Weare only wayfarers, brothers,” exclaimed Valens; “we would pass undisturbed.” “You can travel without those horses,” replied the bandits.
At once a rush was made towards them. The way in front was blocked. A hundred fierce savages seized both bridles and riders. The latter were speedily dismounted, and Valens recognized. “Oh, ho, it is you, impudence!” exclaimed a burly robber. “But yesterday you rode over us, and glad may you be if your neck be not cracked as a recompense.” Valens was speedily overpowered and bound to a wagon. The others clearly bore the outward marks of consanguinity, at least in tendency and occupation, with the brigands, and at once seeing their plight joined the party. Pietro kept quiet and was almost overlooked. He was, however, lightly bound to a fellow prisoner, a man of grave demeanor, who gave sign of grief only by extreme pallor. All his armor was stripped roughly from the doughty Thuringian, and some severe bruises from rough cudgels set in place of it. Valens’ packet of instructions, still unopened, was discovered, and being purposely expressed in Latin was unintelligible to the ruffians present. “I can explain that to you,” exclaimed Pietro, “if you so desire. But you must allow me to examine it.” It was as follows:
“The bearer, Valens of Thuringia, was a soldier in the Bohemian army. He is now in my service; and is ordered to proceed with all haste in order that the wretches who now plunder the country may be ​punished as speedily as possible, and either slain or driven from the land
“Rudolph, Imp.”
Whether the emperor designed the foregoing as a snare, knowing that his messenger must inevitably be waylaid, or it was his purpose to discover the extent to which the roads were then unsafe, may be judged from Rudolph’s known dissimulation, and iron resentment under a veil of good humor.
“Oh, ho, you are dispatched to murder us, are you?” roared the crowd; “we shall see to that.” At once the wretched Valens was seized by the fierce, resentful rabble, and hung with a rope of withes from the nearest tree. The miserable victim slowly choked, and struggled long in his agony. Pietro was at once released both from Rudolph and his escort and left to his own resources.
The banditti soon settled down in a rough encampment, having resolved to start with their slaves and other plunder by the earliest light. They were already aware that the Hungarian contingent of Rudoph’s army,under King Ladislaus in person, had encamped since the battle apart from the imperial troops, and had accumulated, immense plunder. In fact the entire contents of Otakar’s camp were in their hands, and thousands of captives of all ranks held either for ruinous ransom, or for sale into—slavery in the east and south.
In order to avoid any larger body of troops under Zawis or Milota of Dedicz, known to be also now permitted to return home, the miscreants divided ​their company into two bands, resolved to pursue separate routes, both having the same objective point, the city of Gran in Hungary.
Wild hilarity arose in the rough encampment. Coarse songs and jests mingled strangely with the lamentations of the prisoners. These creatures, chiefly young women and grown girls, had never before been separated from parents and neighbors in their quiet villages. The shock of sudden seizure, and the violence and destruction to their homes, rendered them crazed and hysterical. But one or two of their number retained more control of their judgment. These exerted themselves to encourage their despairing sisters. With fiendish cunning the marauders selected one of these to accompany each Caravan, in order to appease the weeping unfortunates. More presentable appearance and an earlier market formed the only motive for this proceeding. The two groups bade each other a most affectionate farewell. One of these two leaders seemed to be universally a favorite; and all expended especial fervor in their final greetings. “Farewell, Eudocia, dear,” they cried amid choking sobs, “and if we never meet again on earth you shall live in our hearts forever.”
Little souvenirs, of no inherent value, were exchanged all around. Locks of hair were rudely cut, knotted up with shreds of string or cotton or woolen torn from raiment all too scanty. Kisses and melting tears commingled the emotions and heart throbs of young and suffering souls, and the ​two groups parted on the eve, as they expected, of a dreadful future.
“All this is agonizing,” exclaimed Pietro to the grave person already mentioned. “Even so, my brother,” replied the stranger, “but I have seen many such in Bohemia. We seem to be the prey of all the ruffians of the East. During Otakar’s days we enjoyed protection, and the safety of his people from similar inroads formed the fundamental reason of his seemingly ambitious policy. But henceforth, weep. Bohemia, weep! lament, O Moravia, in thy desolation! for the foe ravages at his pleasure, and a more devastating enemy than the Cumanians now controls the destinies of the nation. But, good brother, canst thou not add a word of consolation to—these afflicted children.”
“Speak up, stranger,” added one who overheard the last remark; “we would have a song. Thou comest not unprovided with jingles.”
“A song, jongleur,” exclaimed the crowd; “thou must earn thy entertainment at this castle.” “A song, a song!” shouted the whole vagabond company. Pietro now became far more master of the situation than his jailers were aware. He knew the kind of song, at that bitter moment, most acceptable to his fellow captives. Accordingly he disposed himself a little in the shade and sang:
“My love is lost, and a weary way Have I trod through the desert wide; For a man of sin, seeking choicest prey, Hath seized her to be his bride,
And his ravening heart now gloats at the view Of her suppliant grief and tears, And pales on her cheek the fresh Sharon rose hue As the home of her love disappears.
“But her lily heart is as pure as the chaste Silver beam of the dawning day; And no white almond blossom more sweet hath graced Virtue’s cheek with its tenderest ray; And the pearl that she bore on her radiant brow Sheds no halo more pure and bright Than the virtue that glows round her true heart now In her ministering angel’s sight.’’
The allusions in these lines being among those commonly adopted by multitudes in Moravia, Bohemia and other surrounding regions by those who desired recognition by the initiated, were at once perfectly understood by his audience; and the captives at once responded in a verse of a well known hymn of the period:
“And no white almond blossom more sweet hath gracedWe wander far, yet our steps shall be On the rock by our help supplied, And a pillar of light in the night we see Before us our constant guide.”
Such response as this Pietro expected, and from that moment the band of captives surrendered themselves to repose, as they well knew that help of some kind would not be wanting. ****** While these events transpired on the road taken by Pietro, others still more momentous occupied Solomon. Hardly had the emperor dispatched his first messenger when a visit from Ladislaus, King of Hungary, was announced. This sovereign had been Rudolph’s chief ally, and well knew the value of his ​services. His country still entertained fierce animosity against Bohemia, and the king now determined to wreak full vengeance, especially as his neighbors of Poland had undertaken Otakar’s quarrel, and had formed the most numerous contingent that fought for Bohemia at the Marchfield. Accordingly Ladislaus had studiously enveloped his movements since the battle in mystery. In fact his troops controlled the field and the surrounding country. His camp had become an enormous receptacle for plunder, and not only property of all kinds had been indiscriminately heaped together, but the means of transportation were chiefly procured by open spoliation from Moravia itself. All this Rudolph may well have known, but he maintained absolute silence and apparent indifference on the subject.
The king on his arrival presented Rudolph with a rich Hungarian saddle, with housings and bridle complete; two splendid chargers; a robe of Astrakan fur, and two illuminated manuscripts, one being the old Bohemian liturgy in Slavonian and Greek, a remnant of the community of Sassawa during their sojourn in Poland and Hungary, and the other a Russian version of the new testament, of the preceding century.
“On taking leave of your imperial highness,” said Ladislaus, “I may express the satisfaction of Hungary at finding her frontier again disencumbered of a dangerous and restless ambition. Henceforward it shall be the interest of our nation to cultivate the most friendly intercourse with the empire,”—Ladis​laus shrewdly omitted the word Roman,—“and we have the best reason to believe that the valor which has distinguished your highness will be rivaled by that political sagacity which you have already exhibited on many occasions.”
“Your illustrious highness is requested,” replied Rudolph, “to accept our cordial thanks for the good wishes you have expressed. Hungary may rest assured that no provocation from our side shall be permitted to disturb the peace and amity that now happily unite that kingdom and the empire. The humiliation of King Bela on the Marchfield has been effaced. In order now to exhibit to your illustrious highness the consideration in which we hold your wisdom, I request you to favor me with your views on the proper course to be taken in the present conjuncture. These states are now without a formal government capable of exercising concentrated authority, however useful their local assemblies may be. The heir to the ancient throne of Bohemia is but a child. The country must be placed as speedily as possible in subordination to constituted authority. Your highness’ views will be most welcome.”
“The electorate is not a numerous body,” rejoined Ladislaus. “The reduction of one vote will not only be a serious step in itself as tending to alienate a kingdom, never more than half acquired, from all participation in imperial affairs; and any assault on the body of the electoral college will be certainly resented by the other electors, who will all be alarmed at the prospect of an attack on themselves. The ​kingdom of Bohemia will be judiciously maintained in form, but its direction can assume in wise hands a more favorable tendency in relation to the empire than it has ever exhibited in the past. For many years it must remain subject to imperial control, and your highness will know how to employ the opportunity.” The King of Hungary here sketched the policy adopted by Rudolph’s house towards Bohemia for three hundred and fifty years.
Ladislaus then took formal leave of the emperor and withdrew.
Solomon, on issuing from his resting place, found himself at once seized and hustled hastily along by a guard of Cumanians, who handed him over speedily to Hungarian troops. He was thus thrust intoa company that had already similarly seized Duke Nicolas, Lord Boppo, and even Don Abraham. All were urged forward and forced to join the march of the main body towards the frontiers.
Rudolph struck his camp and moved by Nicolsberg towards a point between Oslawan and Rossitz, east of Brünn. Here he awaited the approach of the nobles of Moravia, who assembled to tender their submission.
During the retreat of the Hungarians, foragers and plunderers were despatched in every direction. Not a town, hamlet, or private house, not a public edifice, monastery, or even cattle-stall was spared. Devastation and fire marked the track of the unrestrained miscreants. The walled town of Znaim gallantly resisted, and a numerous body of marauders ​met a bloody repulse from her gates. Even Ladislaus did not dare formally to assault an important city of his ally. During this march the multitude of prisoners was constanty augmented, until it became an immense throng. Increasing numbers of starving wretches intensified the devastation until the famishing prisoners became in turn the spoliators of their own land. The population fled to mountains and morasses, and hid in caves and swamps, before this desolating multitude.
On reaching the frontier, several organized bands separated from the main body, quietly established themselves in secure places, and prepared to continue their ravages as man-stealers and slave-dealers. By preconcerted arrangement fixed stations were determined on, the common meeting place being the city of Gran in Hungary.
Of the Bohemian army remained only a few fragments. These discomfited outcasts disguised themselves and straggled back to the desolation where had been their homes. Rudolph early took occasion to relieve himself of the presence of his most useful and timely ally, Milota of Dedicz. This trusted officer’s defection, with the strength of Otakar’s horse, in a critical moment exposed the Bohemian flank to certain destruction. Lord Witek, brother of Lord Zawis, and a few followers slowly and with difficulty wound their way towards the Moravian march. Each troop cautiously approached every other during the day, and avoided all contact during the night. Towards evening of the third day after the battle ​Witek and his company approached the low range that forms the northern boundary of Moravia. Evening’s dusk warned the party to seek a retired location for a night’s encampment. Having selected their resting place on the bank of a small stream, they prepared for the night; when a sound of singing attracted and astonished them. The voice was evidently practised and the air more sedate than usual with a jongleur. Another encampment was soon discerned, and the entire party cautiously approached. There about twenty Cumanians guarded a number of young women, several wagons laden with booty of the lighter sort, and two men, of whom the singer was one. Witek’s company did not exceed twelve, but all bore arms under their loose clothing. They were wholly undiscovered. The words of the song were inaudible, but the melody was unmistakable. Every dweller along that march well knew it. One of the new-comers wore sandals of a peculiar pattern. They were more than sandals and not complete shoes. The opening in front was loosely secured by a thong carefully tied in imitation of a cross. These shoes were the zabbata, sabbata, modern sabots of the Waldensian sectaries. Approaching the banditti, the stranger craved a shelter. Throwing his arms at full length and at right angles to his body, he at the same moment stepped into the light of the fire. His shoes at once revealed his character to Pietro’s practised eye. As soon as the wearied troop sank to sleep, for they kept no sentinel, Pietro and his new auxiliary quietly withdrew Eudocia and ​two of her companions. To liberate them all must create a burden which their small number could not protect. These young women had been suddenly seized by a marauding body of the banditti who had penetrated into that part of the country, and had been borne off from among the cottagers during the absence of the military population. Hastily retiring to a separate camp with their new acquisition of numbers, Witek and his followers watched with true military precision, all the more strict as the young women had been recognized by Witek as being members of his brother’s household. In the early dawn this party hastily retreated along a track well known to them. The same day placed the low mountain range between them and pursuit, and they toiled wearily along the desolate path. Two more days of painful travel, especially exhausting to Eudocia and her companions, found the party at length within the walls of Fürstenberg, the strong castle of Lord Zawis.