THE NIGHT
When Dionysius Banfy left his wife's room and went down the back
stairway to the hall of the ground floor, he saw a young rider bound
into the courtyard. The rider was covered with dust and foam; when he
sprang from his horse, the tired beast lay down. The rider asked
hastily for Banfy, who recognized in him Gabriel Burkö, and went to
him with the question:
"What's the matter?"
"My lord," began the exhausted rider, recovering his breath, "Ali
Pasha has attacked Banfy-Hunyad."
"Very good," said Banfy, who appeared to take pleasure in the fact
that fate offered his agitated soul something to crush. "Call George
Veer," he shouted to his men. "And do you tell me, as soon as you have
your breath, just what has happened."
"I must be quick, my lord, I have come out of the midst of the fight.
A troop of Kurdish raiders came to Banfy-Hunyad yesterday. Your
Grace's captain, Gregory Sötar, suspecting that they had come to
plunder, marched against them with the hussars of the castle, engaged
in conflict with them and after a short struggle drove them from the
walls. Not content with that, however, he gave the signal for an
attack and pursued the retreating troops in the direction of Zeutelke.
While the Kurds were fleeing before us we saw ourselves suddenly
attacked on the flank. In a trice the entire open space was covered
with Turkish riders, who crowded upon us like a heap of ants. I cannot
give their number definitely but this much I know;--three horse tails
were visible in their midst, and that means that there is a Pasha in
the army. Sötar could no longer make his retreat to Hunyad."
"The Devil!" interrupted Banfy.
"Every one of us had to encounter two or three. Sötar himself took his
spiked club in one hand and his sword in the other and shouted to me
as I came near: 'My son, leave the battlefield, force your way
through, hurry to Bonczida and tell the news.' What more he said I did
not hear, for the struggling masses separated us. With that I threw my
shield over my back, laid my head on my horse's neck, used my spurs
and galloped off the battlefield. A hundred horsemen hurried after to
catch me; the arrows fell like hailstones on my shield; but my clever
horse took in the danger, doubled his speed and so the pursuers lost
me."
"You come straight from Bonczida?"
"I could not resist, gracious lord, making a détour to Banfy-Hunyad
to inform the people there of their peril so they might flee to the
mountains in time."
"That was wise on your part. So the inhabitants have taken to flight."
"Far from it. Directly in front of Madame Vizaknai's gate I told the
people the frightful news. Their faces turned pale, then suddenly the
lady of the house came out with drawn sword and stood in the midst of
the people with flashing eyes, as if she had the spirit of a hundred
men, and she said to them: 'Are you men! If you are, seize your
weapons. Go upon the walls and know how to defend the place where your
children live and your fathers are buried. But if you are cowards,
then take to flight. The women will stay behind with me and show the
furious foe that when it is a matter of fighting for hearth and home
nobody is too weak.'"
Banfy called out to his squire in a hoarse voice to bring him his
shield, lance and helmet, and motioned to the panting messenger to go
on with his story.
"At these words, there was a cry of rage among the people. The women
ran for arms like so many furies and by the side of their husbands who
were changed into heroes by the decision of their wives, they mounted
the walls. Everybody took what he could find, scythes, shovels or
flails. Madame Vizaknai was everywhere at once; gave orders,
encouraged the fighters, had the church barricaded, oil and brimstone
boiled and the bridges torn down, so that when I rode out of the town
it was already in a state of defence. I swam the Körös, to avoid that
long way, and came through the forests and bypaths."
By the end of this story, Banfy seemed to be beside himself. He did
not wait for armor or helmet, shouted for a horse and as he mounted,
called back to Veer;--"Follow me to Banfy-Hunyad. Let the foot
soldiers ascend Mount Gyalu by a détour; the horsemen may follow me to
Klausenburg. When you are near, light fires on the mountains that I
may make an attack on the enemy at once with the van of the cavalry."
"Would it not be better for your Excellency to stay with the main
army?" said Veer, anxiously.
"Do as I bid you," said Banfy, and giving spur to his horse he bounded
off. Ten to twenty horsemen joined him.
"What does he mean," said Veer, "that he neither waits for us, nor
tells his wife nor the Princess, who is a guest here?"
"When I informed him that Madame Vizaknai was defending Banfy-Hunyad
he was dismayed," said Burkö, by way of explanation. "She is a
youthful love of his whom he forgot in later life, but now that he
hears of her bravery the old love seems to have sprung up again."
George Veer was quite content with this explanation, ordered his
troops to mount at once and rode off, first giving orders to inform
Madame Banfy of a trifling engagement with the troops at Klausenburg.
The command of the infantry he intrusted to Captain Michael Angyal,
who did not set out until evening, for the way to the snow mountains
was a shorter one.
* * * * *
When George Veer reached Klausenburg he did not find Banfy there; the
general had gone on an hour before with two hundred horse. Veer
ordered his troops not to halt long and followed after Banfy, but
could not overtake him. He kept ahead all the way, sometimes several
hours' march. It was already late at night when Banfy with his two
hundred riders reached the point where the Körös cuts its way through
the wooded valley. At the bridge the Turks had encamped. The Bedouins
lay there with their long weapons, on the watch. It was not possible
to take them by surprise. In the direction of Banfy-Hunyad there was a
glow on the heavens, sometimes sinking, sometimes mounting high again.
Banfy left his men in concealment on the further bank, while he
himself, attended by only four men went down to the river to find a
ford. The Körös is here so furious that it sweeps the horseman from
his horse; but fortunately, on account of the drought of the hot
summer, it had so fallen that Banfy soon found a place where it flowed
quietly, and waded through with his comrades. Then he sent one of them
back to bring the rest, but he himself remained gazing fixedly in the
direction where the fire was in sight.
Meantime, one of the six Bedouin horsemen on guard noticed the three
riders, and the leader called out to them to stand. Banfy tried to
retreat, but three Bedouins sprang on him from behind and three more
rushed toward him, lances in rest.
"Bend down on your horses' necks and seize your spear in your left
hand," Banfy shouted to his men, and drew his sword against the
assailants; so in the darkness of the night they fell upon one another
silently. Banfy was in the middle. The lances of the three Bedouins
whizzed through the air at the same time. Banfy's comrades fell on
both sides from their horses, while he with his left hand skilfully
wrested the lance from one of the guards and with the right hand dealt
him a blow that cleft his skull. When Banfy saw that he was alone he
turned at once on his two foes and struck one down with his lance and
the other with his sword. Three more horsemen came furiously toward
him from the bank. "Come on," growled Banfy, with that grim humor so
characteristic of certain warriors in the moment of danger. "I'll
teach you how to handle the spear," he added, with a smile; shielded
on the rear by a group of trees, he thrust his sword into its sheath,
grasped his spear with both hands and within two minutes all three lay
stretched on the ground. Then he looked round and saw with joy that
the enemy at the bridge were too far away to notice the fight, and his
two hundred horsemen were already at the bank and now crossed
noiselessly. Some of the Bedouins on the ground still groaned and
sighed.
"Knock their skulls in, so they will not betray us by their noise."
"Shall we not wait for Veer's troops?" asked the standard-bearer.
"We cannot, we have no time," said Banfy, directing his glance toward
the reddened horizon, and the little band moved quietly across fields
and thickets. Soon there was the sound of a distant roar and when they
had reached the top of a height before them Banfy-Hunyad came in
sight. The leader breathed more easily. It was not the town that was
on fire but only some hay-ricks. The roofs of the houses had been
taken off by the inhabitants in advance, so that the enemy could not
set fire to them. Church and bell-tower too were stripped of their
roofs, and one could see by the glare of the fire that they were
surrounded by the Turkish army, while from the top of the tower
brimstone and pitch with heavy beams fell like a rain of fire on the
assailants and crowded them from the walls.
Ali Pasha had not waited for his artillery which had been detained by
the bad roads, because he thought he could take by storm in a single
attack a place defended only by peasants and women; but it is well
known that despair makes soldiers of everybody and axes and scythes
are good weapons in the hands of the resolute.
At this spectacle Banfy's face suddenly glowed; he thought he saw a
woman's figure on the battlement of the tower. At once he put spurs to
his horse and rushed forward like a whirlwind, calling back to his
men:
"Do not count the foe now; time enough for that when he is down."
And within a quarter of an hour the small band reached the camp before
the town. There everybody was asleep. While one part of the army made
the attack there was time for the other to rest. Even the guards had
let their heads droop in sleep; there they lay by their staked horses,
and were only roused from their dreams when Banfy had already ridden
wildly through their ranks in every direction. The Baron, who intended
to hasten on alone to the relief of the besieged, in a trice ran down
the confused troops who, startled from their sleep, seized horse and
lance and mistaking one another the enemy crowded together and cut
down their own troops. In vain did the Turkish leaders strive to
control the frantic men.
Meanwhile, Banfy appeared boldly and unexpectedly in the midst of the
Turkish army storming the church. The front ranks gave way in terror
at his unexpected onset but at once an advancing brigade made up of
Ali Pasha's chosen Mamelukes, brought the fugitives to a stand. A
giant Moor stood at the head of the troops. His horse too was an
unusually tall one, sixteen hands high. He himself was seven feet
tall; his great swollen muscles shone like steel in the fiendish light
of the burning hay-ricks; his broad mouth bled from the blow of a
stone and the whites of his eyes shone in a ghastly fashion from his
black face.
"Halt, Giaour!" roared the Moor, with a voice that sounded above the
thunder of battle, and made his way toward Banfy. In his clenched fist
shone a broad scimitar that seemed too heavy even for him.
Two hussars riding before Banfy fell at one blow from the monster; one
to the right, the other to the left of his horse. As he raised his arm
for the third blow the Moor rose in his saddle and shouted: "I am
Kariassar, the Invincible! Thank God that you fall by my hand." And
with that he threw his sword backward and dealt a frightful blow in
the direction of Banfy's head. The Baron drew his sword coolly in
front of his face and when Kariassar struck, made a very skilful
movement at the hand of the Moor and struck off four fingers at once
from Kariassar's hand, so that they fell noiselessly to the ground. An
expression of terror and rage overspread the dark features. He threw
himself quickly with a frightful roar at Banfy, and paying no heed to
the wounds received on face and shoulders, with his left hand grasped
the Hungarian's right and gave him such a push that, had not Banfy
been firm in his saddle, he must have fallen from his horse. It seemed
as if the Moor were still able with one hand to crush him. As Banfy
was a good rider he used his spurs, and while the giant struggled with
the master, pulling at his lacerated arm with lion strength, the
battle-horse turned himself suddenly against the Moor, dealt him a
blow in the thigh with his hoof, bit his breast with his foaming mouth
and pushed against him with his teeth. Kariassar cried out with the
maddening pain and letting go the Baron suddenly, reached for his
dagger with his left hand and drew it from its sheath. Just at this
moment Banfy struck at the giant's neck and the monstrous head rolled
to the ground. While the blood gushed out in a threefold stream, the
headless figure remained seated upon his unguided horse,--a terrible
spectacle! At sight of him the frightened Mamelukes scattered,
dashing over hedges and fences on their horses, riding one another
down.
At the same time the people who were defending the church broke
down the barricades and made a sally on the assailants. At their
head was Madame Vizaknai with drawn sword--behind the clergy as
standard-bearers, with the church banners.
The great army of besiegers, now fallen between two fires, parted and
opened a free course for the scythes of the peasants, and for the
tschakany. This last is a mighty weapon; in the hands of the expert
its blow is almost unfailing. The long pointed blade strikes with such
weight as it falls that there is neither helmet nor shield it cannot
go through, and the sword offers no defence against its crooked steel.
Soon the two armies met. The janissaries who, though half dead still
struck with their hangers at the feet of the horses riding over them,
scattered like chaff.
Madame Vizaknai sprang toward Dionysius Banfy and seized his horse by
the bridle.
"The danger is great, gracious lord. The Turks are twenty times our
number. Come behind the church wall."
"I'll not go a step further," replied Banfy, coldly. "Save yourself
behind the barricades."
"Neither will I," replied Madame Vizaknai.
"I can defend myself," said Banfy, fiercely.
"So can I," replied the woman, proudly.
New forces streamed out from every direction as if they had come down
from the clouds or up from the ground. Foot soldiers and horse, with
long weapons, bows and lances arose from every side with a shout that
reached the heavens:--"Ali, Ali, Allah Akbar!"
The Hungarian force, with backs to the church drew themselves up in
line of battle and waited the attack. From the end of the street a
gleaming troop of horsemen appeared to be advancing. It was a picked
company of spahis on stately Arab horses; the housings gleaming with
emeralds in the firelight. In the middle rode Ali on a slender
snow-white barb; in his hand a crooked sword with diamond-set hilt and
on his head a turbaned helmet. His long beard fell over his silver
armor. When he was within range of Banfy he called a halt and drew up
his men. Until then Banfy had not touched his pistols, the wonderfully
carved ivory handles of which were just in sight above the saddlebags.
Now he drew them and handed them both to Madame Vizaknai.
"Take them," he said, "you ought to have something for self-defence."
Just then Ali Pasha sent a herald who brought this message to the
Hungarians:
"My lord, Ali Pasha, commands you unbelieving giaours to surrender.
Every way of escape is closed; spare yourself further useless
efforts, lay down your weapons at his feet and surrender yourselves to
his mercy."
The herald had hardly uttered the last words when two shots were heard
and he fell dead from his horse. Madame Vizaknai, instead of any reply
had fired off both pistols at him.
Ali Pasha, infuriated, gave a signal to the troops around him and
there was a shower of darts and balls from every side upon the little
Hungarian band.
Madame Vizaknai stepped up to Banfy's stirrups and resting against him
one hand and swinging her sword with the other, said:
"Fear nothing, my friend."
Her words were followed by a sound as of thunder and a whizzing of
darts. Madame Vizaknai's body came between Banfy and danger. When the
noise of the firing passed over he felt her hold on his arm grow
weaker;--an arrow had struck the lady just above the heart.
"The arrow was meant for you," said Madame Vizaknai, with feeble
voice, and sank down dead on the ground.
"Poor soul!" said Banfy, looking down at her. "She always loved me and
never showed it."
And then blood flowed instead of tears.
The Hungarians were surrounded by the Turks and could not force their
way through at any point. Already Banfy was fighting with the eighth
spahi who, like all the rest, gave way before his extraordinary
dexterity. Ali Pasha was beside himself with rage.
"So then, you cannot kill this detestable dog," he roared, in his
anger, and striking the people before him with the flat of his sword,
he galloped toward Banfy.
"I stand before you, you miserable hog, son of a dog," he said,
gnashing his teeth.
"Keep your names for yourself," said Banfy; rode up to the Pasha, and
let fall on his helmet so mighty a blow that it was shivered, and
Banfy's sword too, and both men drew back stunned. Ali took a round
shield from one of his armor-bearers and a steel tschakany was handed
Banfy. The tschakany fell with frightful force on the shield, making a
hole. Ali Pasha drew his sword and this time Banfy saved his life only
by a skilful spring to one side.
"I'll play ball with your head," said Ali, scornfully.
"And I will make a broom out of your beard," replied Banfy.
"I will have your coat of arms nailed up in my stable."
"And I will have your hide stuffed with sawdust and use it for a
scarecrow."
"You rebel of a slave!"
"You barber's apprentice made into a general!"
Every taunt was accompanied with a fresh thrust.
"You shameless kidnapper!" shouted the pasha. "You carry off Turkish
girls, do you? I will carry off your wife and make her the lowest
slave of my harem."
Everything swam before Banfy's eyes; he had received three wounds that
took from him all humanity.
"Cursed devil!" he roared, and gnashing his teeth, grasped his
tschakany in the middle, bounded nearer to Ali and whirled his weapon
with lightning swiftness about his head so that it flew about in his
hand like the arms of a windmill, now driving at the opposing shield
with the handle and now with the ball-like end of the weapon, serving
alike for attack and defence. Ali Pasha, overwhelmed by this unwonted
mode of attack tried to withdraw, but the two war-horses shared their
masters' struggle by biting each other in the neck and chest and could
not be separated. The spahis, who saw their master reel, threw
themselves between the two and drove off the hussars surrounding
Banfy. When he saw that all his men were fleeing toward the church he
quickly let fall one last blow on Ali's shield, which struck through,
and as he surmised from Ali's roar, just at the point where the shield
fits on the arm. Banfy had no time for a second blow for he was
surrounded on all sides. Just then there was heard in the rear of the
combatants a familiar braying of trumpets, and a fresh war cry
sounding from all sides mingled with the confusion.
"God! Michael Angyal!" George Veer had arrived with his troops.
"God! Michael Angyal!" shouted the leader, towering above the rest in
his coat of mail with a bearskin thrown over one shoulder; with a
notched club he forced his way through the midst of the surprised
Turks.
The attack was skilfully made. The knights crowded forward from all
sides and threw the army of the Turks into confusion at every point at
once so that no division could bring help to another, and the outer
ranks were constantly trampled down by this superior foe.
Ali Pasha had received a bad wound on his arm from Banfy's last
thrust, that took away his courage; he put spurs to his horse and gave
the signal for retreat. The army of the Turks was driven headlong out
of the town. The leaders strove to bring the troops to the mountains
of Gyerto, where they thought they could gather their forces again in
the passes.
Outside the town the battle went on in spite of the order to retreat.
The Hungarians scattered the burning hay and in the darkness of the
night became so mixed with their foes that they could only be
distinguished by the war cry. The retreating army of the Turks in the
darkness and confusion now fled toward the enemy, now cut down their
own comrades, and in their effort to imitate the war cry of the
Hungarians met with still greater misfortune, for since they could not
pronounce Michael Angyal but shouted Michael Andschal instead, they
were the more easily recognized by the Hungarians. The Turkish army
was utterly defeated. They left more than a thousand dead in the
streets and vicinity of the church; and had it not been for the
mountain ravines where it was not advisable for the Hungarians to
follow, they would have been completely annihilated.
George Veer ordered the trumpet to sound for the rally of the
scattered troops, while Banfy in his restless rage sought to pursue
the fleeing foe. In vain! Every way was closed by the hastily felled
trees.
"We are forced to let them escape," said Veer, sheathing his sword.
"Maybe not," said Banfy, excited, and rode up a hill where he appeared
to see something. Suddenly he shouted joyfully:--"Look there! The
signal fires are just being lighted." And it was a fact! The signal
bonfires were seen blazing in a long line along the Gyalu mountains.
"There are our men!" shouted Banfy, with fresh enthusiasm. "The Turk
is in a snare!"
And he collected his forces again and galloped toward the barricaded
streets, giving no heed to the warning of the more cautious Veer.
* * * * *
Ali Pasha had meantime sent ahead his tents, camels and the
booty-laden wagons, with Dschem-Haman to open up the road over the
mountain. While Dschem-Haman went forward in the darkness, leveling a
road, he suddenly heard a conversation on the steep rocks towering
above his head and saw a troop of armed men come in sight. Both troops
spoke at once,--"Who are you? What are you doing?"
"We are carrying stones," replied Dschem-Haman. "We too are carrying
stones," shouted those above.
"We are Dschem-Haman's men, who are clearing the stones out of the way
for Ali Pasha,--and you, are you not Csaki's men?"
"We are gathering stones to throw at the head of Ali Pasha, and are
Michael Angyal's men," was the reply from above; and at the same
moment there fell on the head of the Turk a rain of stones, as if by
way of confirmation.
"Is Angyal here too?" growled the Turks, starting back in terror and
alarming those in the rear, who feared they were about to be
surrounded. At this information the army of the Turks formed in a
solid mass, rear and van alike harassed by the fear that the Hungarian
forces in possession of the mountain-heights would begin at daybreak
to roll down huge rocks.
Ali Pasha tried to force his way through, now in one place and now in
another, but was beaten back every time with frightful loss, by masses
of rock and trunks of trees rolled down from above. The boldest
rangers, who had fought hand to hand in hundreds of battles, fled
terror-stricken before these thundering rocks which so crushed
everything in their path that horse and rider could not be
distinguished from each other. Ali, seeing that he and his entire host
were all but caught, tore his beard with rage that he must lay down
his arms before an army to which his own was even now superior in
numbers.
"There is nowhere either help or defence except with Almighty God!" he
cried, broke his sword in two in his despair, drew his pistol and
aimed it at his own breast. At that instant a hand tore his weapon
from him and Ali Pasha saw Zulfikar before him.
"What do you want, you madman?" he shouted at him. "You surely would
not have me fall into the hands of these unbelievers alive!"
"I will set you and your army free," said Zulfikar.
"By the soul of Allah, you make great promises, and if you should be
able to fulfil them I would make you second in command."
"That is not necessary. Promise me a thousand ducats and send me to
Banfy as messenger."
"So you can betray my position to him, you dog!"
"I do not need to do that, he can see for himself from the mountain
height, and in any case you are as well done for as if you were dead
already, so you have no choice whether you will believe me or not.
Within ten days you and I and your noblest knights will die of hunger;
in this one respect all are alike and have no advantage over one
another."
"And what will you attempt, miserable slave?"
"Influence Banfy to withdraw his troops from the road leading toward
Kalota and so leave us a way of escape."
"And you think that is possible?"
"Either it is possible, or it is not possible. Where death is certain,
a man is not risking his life. If I can speak with Banfy this evening,
you can think of escape by night. If it succeeds, good; if it does
not, you can come back here again."
"The boy speaks boldly. Well, act according to your judgment. I trust
it to you. God sees all. Go."
Zulfikar laid down his arms and followed the defile leading toward
Kalota. As he came to the Hungarian outpost he saw the length of the
street, long rows of trees with Turks hung to the branches; but this
sight did not disturb the composure of the deserter. He walked boldly
into the midst of the enemy and when they stopped him said quietly in
Hungarian, "Take me to Dionysius Banfy, I am his spy!"
"You lie!" they shouted. "Hang him to a tree!"
"I can prove it," continued Zulfikar, firmly, took a folded letter out
of his turban and gave it to the captain.
In the letter were these words. "I, Gregory Sötar, inform the captains
that the bearer of this letter, Zulfikar, is my faithful war spy. He
is to be allowed free pass everywhere." The captain gave back the
letter sullenly and motioned to two soldiers to lead him to Banfy, and
in case the latter did not recognize him, strike him down at once.
Banfy recognized him at the first glance as Pongracz, once servant of
Balassa, and motioned to his servant to leave him alone with him.
"So you have turned Turk?" Banfy asked.
"Do not ask, my lord, I have a great deal to say beside that. Let me
tell my story quietly to the end and I will be brief. Emerich Balassa
turned me out of his house when he learned that I had assisted you in
carrying off Azraele."
"Good," said Banfy, contracting his eyebrows. "The girl has fled from
me too and I do not know where she has gone."
"I do, my lord. But the worst of it is that there are others who know
too. Near Gregyina-Drakuluj there is a hidden dwelling among the rocks
that is her property."
"Still," cried Banfy, frightened. "How do you know that?"
"Balassa entered a complaint to the Prince that his wife had been
stolen. The affair is not so trifling as you think. Azraele is the
Sultan's daughter, who was betrothed to Ali and carried off by Corsar.
Balassa's poison alone saved Corsar from a silken rope, while Balassa
has given up his native land for the sake of the girl. This woman has
brought misfortune to everybody who has rejoiced in the possession of
her. Now it is your turn. After the Prince had promised the disgraced
Ladislaus Csaki everything in his power if he would discover the place
where you had concealed the girl, Csaki craftily commissioned the
Lieutenant of the circuit to make inquiries among the people whether a
panther had not been seen in the forest, for he felt quite sure that
this tamed beast would wander widely. In this way they got trace of
the hiding place among the rocks, saw the girl,--and all is betrayed."
"Hell and the devil!" said Banfy, turning white.
"Hear the rest. Csaki communicated his plan to Ali Pasha, who was the
one concerned; according to this plan, when Ali fell upon
Banfy-Hunyad, Csaki with his thousand Wallachians was to go up into
the mountain under pretext of a hunt and storm Gregyina-Drakuluj."
"Unheard of knavery!" cried Banfy, with his hand on his sword.
"It is possible, my lord, that you may yet get there in time," added
the deserter, cunningly,--"if you do not delay too long."
"Let us start at once," said Banfy, pale with rage. "I'll teach these
sycophants to touch the possession of a free nobleman while he himself
is fighting against the foe of his fatherland. A few hundred men will
be enough to hold Ali Pasha in check here; with the rest I'll wager
that I can make it uncomfortable for Ladislaus Csaki if he crosses my
borders."
And at once Banfy sent orders to his men to start for Marisel in
perfect silence; he ordered the few troops remaining to light a great
many fires in the forest to make the enemy believe that the entire
force was still there, and he himself hurried on to Azraele's hiding
place. For Zulfikar he counted out five hundred gold pieces for his
information.
Ali Pasha, according to agreement, had attacked by night with his
entire force the line of military posts left by Banfy and held by a
few hundred men; had driven them back after a short resistance and
leaving behind two thousand dead and all his baggage, and swallowing
down his vexation at a great defeat, had hurried away to ward Gross
Nagy Varad. From him too Zulfikar received the thousand gold pieces
stipulated; he had done a service alike to the Hungarian and to the
Turk, and had allowed himself to receive pay from both parties.