JOHANN THE SECRETARY
Ten miles outside the boundary of the little hill state of Kernsberg,
the embassage of Plassenburg was met by another cavalcade bearing
additional instructions from the Princess Helene. The leader was a
slender youth of middle height, the accuracy of whose form gave evidence
of much agility. He was dark-skinned, of an olive complexion, and with
closely cropped black hair which curled crisply about his small head.
His eyes were dark and fine, looking straightly and boldly out upon all
comers.
With him, as chiefs of his escort, were those two silent men Jorian and
Boris, who had, as it was reported, ridden to Plassenburg for
instructions. None of those who followed Dessauer had ever before set
eyes upon this youth, who came with fresh despatches, and, in
consequence, great was the consternation and many the surmises as to who
he might be who stood so high in favour with the Prince and Princess.
But his very first words made the matter clear.
"Your Excellency," he said to the Ambassador, "I bring you the most
recent instructions from their Highnesses Hugo and Helene of
Plassenburg. They sojourn for the time being in the city of Thorn, where
they build a new palace for themselves. I was brought from Hamburg to be
one of the master-builders. I have skill in plans, and I bring you these
for your approval and in order to go over the rates of cost with you,
as Treasurer of Plassenburg and the Wolfsmark."
Dessauer took, with every token of deference, the sheaf of papers so
carefully enwrapt and sealed with the seal of Plassenburg.
"I thank you for your diligence, good master architect," he said; "I
shall peruse these at my leisure, and, I doubt not, call upon you
frequently for explanations."
The young man rode on at his side, modestly waiting to be questioned.
"What is your name, sir?" asked Dessauer, so that all the escort might
hear.
"I am called Johann Pyrmont," said the youth promptly, and with engaging
frankness; "my father is a Hamburg merchant, trading to the Spanish
ports for oil and wine, but I follow him not. I had ever a turn for
drawing and the art of design!"
"Also for having your own way, as is common with the young," said the
Ambassador, smiling shrewdly. "So, against your father's will, you
apprenticed yourself to an architect?"
The young man bowed.
"Nay, sir," he said, "but my good father could deny me nothing on which
I had set my mind."
"Not he," muttered Dessauer under his breath; "no, nor any one else
either!"
So, bridle by jingling bridle, they rode on over the interminable plain
till Kernsberg, with its noble crown of towers, became first grey and
afterwards pale blue in the utmost distance. Then, like a tall ship at
sea, it sank altogether out of sight. And still they rode on through the
marshy hollows, round innumerable little wildfowl-haunted lakelets, and
so over the sandy, rolling dunes to the city of Courtland, where was
abiding the Prince of that rich and noble principality.
It had been a favourite scheme of dead princes of Courtland to unite to
their fat acres and populous mercantile cities the hardy mountaineers
and pastoral uplands of Kernsberg. But though Wilna and Courtland were
infinitely more populous, the Eagle's Nest was ill to pull down, and
hitherto the best laid plans for their union had invariably fallen
through. But there had come to Joan's father, Henry called the Lion, and
the late Prince Michael of Courtland a better thought. One had a
daughter, the other a son. Neither was burdened with any law of
succession, Salic or other. They held their domains by the free tenure
of the sword. They could leave their powers to whomsoever they would,
not even the Emperor having the right to say, "What doest thou?" So with
that frank carelessness of the private feelings of the individual which
has ever distinguished great politicians, they decreed that, as a
condition of succession, their male and female heirs should marry each
other.
This bond of Heritage-brotherhood, as it was called, had received the
sanction of the Emperor in full Diet, and now it wanted only that the
Duchess Joan of Hohenstein should be of age, in order that the provinces
might at last be united and the long wars of highland and lowland make
an end.
The scheme had taken everything into consideration except the private
character of the persons principally affected, Prince Louis of Courtland
and the young Duchess Joan.
As they came nearer to the ancient city of Courtland, it spread like a
metropolis before the eyes of the embassy of the Prince and Princess of
Plassenburg. The city stretched from the rock whereon the
fortress-palace was built, along a windy, irregular ridge. Innumerable
crow-stepped gables were set at right angles to the street. The towers
of the minster rose against the sky at the lower end, and far to the
southward the palace of the Cardinal Archbishop cast peaked shadows from
its many towers, walled and cinctured like a city within a city.
It was a far-seen town this of Courtland, populous, prosperous,
defenced. Its clear and broad river was navigable for any craft of the
time, and already it threatened to equal if not to outstrip in
importance the free cities of the Hanseatic League--so far, at least,
as the trade of the Baltic was concerned.
Courtland had long been considered too strong to be attacked, save from
the Polish border, while the adhesion of Kernsberg, and the drafting of
the Duchess's hardy fighting mountaineers into the lowland armies would
render the princedom safe for many generations.
Pity it was that plans so far-reaching and purposes so politic should be
dependent upon the whims of a girl!
But then it is just such whims that make the world interesting.
* * * * *
It was the last day of the famous tournament of the Black Eagle in the
princely city of Courtland. Prince Louis had sent out an escort to bring
in the travellers and conduct them with honour to the seats reserved for
them. The Ambassador and High Councillor of Plassenburg must be received
with all observance. He had, he gave notice, brought a secretary with
him. For so the young architect was now styled, in order to give him an
official position in the mission.
The Prince had also sent a request that, as this was the day upon which
all combatants wore plain armour and jousted unknown, for that time
being the Ambassador should accept other escort and excuse him coming to
receive him in person. They would meet at dinner on the morrow, in the
great hall of the palace.
The city was arrayed in flaming banners, some streaming high from the
lofty towers of the cathedral, while others (in streets into which the
wind came only in puffs) more languidly and luxuriously unfolded
themselves, as the Black Eagle on its ground of white everywhere took
the air. All over the city a galaxy of lighter silk and bunting,
pennons, bannerettes, parti-coloured streamers of the national colours
danced becking and bowing from window and roof-tree.
Yet there was a curious silence too in the streets, as they rode towards
the lists of the Black Eagle, and when at last they came within hearing
of the hum of the thousands gathered there, they understood why the city
had seemed so unwontedly deserted. The Courtlanders surrounded the great
oval space of the lists in clustered myriads, and their eyes were bent
inwards. It was the crisis of the great _mêlée_. Scarcely an eye in all
that assembly was turned towards the strangers, who passed quite
unobserved to their reserved places in the Prince's empty box. Only his
sister Margaret, throned on high as Queen of Beauty, looked down upon
them with interest, seeing that they were men who came, and that one at
least was young.
It was a gay and changeful scene. In the brilliant daylight of the lists
a hundred knights charged and recharged. Those who had been unhorsed
drew their swords and attacked with fury others of the enemy in like
case. The air resounded with the clashing of steel on steel.
Fifty knights with white plumes on their helmets had charged fifty
wearing black, and the combat still raged. The shouts of the people rang
in the ears of the ambassador of Plassenburg and his secretary, as they
seated themselves and looked down upon the tide of combat over the
flower-draped balustrades of their box.
"The blacks have it!" said Dessauer after regarding the _mêlée_ with
interest. "We have come in time to see the end of the fray. Would that
we had also seen the shock!"
And indeed the Blacks seemed to have carried all before them. They were
mostly bigger and stronger built men, knights of the landward provinces,
and their horses, great solid-boned Saxon chargers, had by sheer weight
borne their way through the lighter ranks of the Baltic knights on the
white horses.
Not more than half a dozen of these were now in saddle, and all over the
field were to be seen black knights receiving the submission of knights
whose broken spears and tarnished plumes showed that they had succumbed
in the charge to superior weight of metal. For, so soon as a knight
yielded, his steed became the property of his victorious foe, and he
himself was either carried or limped as best he could to the pavilion of
his party, there to remove his armour and send it also to the victor--to
whom, in literal fact, belonged the spoils.
Of the half-dozen white knights who still kept up the struggle, one
shone pre-eminent for dashing valour. His charger surged hither and
thither through the crowd, his spear was victorious and unbroken, and
the boldest opponent thought it politic to turn aside out of his path.
Set upon by more than a score of riders, he still managed to evade them,
and even when all his side had submitted and he alone remained--at the
end of the lists to which he had been driven, he made him ready for a
final charge into the scarce broken array of his foes, of whom more than
twenty remained still on horseback in the field.
But though his spear struck true in the middle of his immediate
antagonist's shield and his opponent went down, it availed the brave
white knight nothing. For at the same moment half a score of lances
struck him on the shield, on the breastplate, on the vizor bars of his
helmet, and he fell heavily to the earth. Nevertheless, scarcely had he
touched the ground when he was again on his feet. Sword in hand, he
stood for a moment unscathed and undaunted, while his foes, momentarily
disordered by the energy of the charge, reined in their steeds ere they
could return to the attack.
"Oh, well ridden!" "Greatly done!" "A most noble knight!" These were the
exclamations which came from all parts of the crowd which surged about
the barriers on this great day.
"I would that I were down beside him with a sword in my hand also!" said
the young architect, Master Johann Pyrmont, secretary of the embassage
of Plassenburg.
"'Tis well you are where you are, madcap, sitting by an old man's side,
instead of fighting by that of a young one," growled Dessauer. "Else
then, indeed, the bent would be on fire."
But at this moment the Princess Margaret, sister of the reigning Prince,
rose in her place and threw down the truncheon, which in such cases
stops the combat.
"The black knights have won," so she gave her verdict, "but there is no
need to humiliate or injure a knight who has fought so well against so
many. Let the white knight come hither--though he be of the losing side.
His is the reward of highest honour. Give him a steed, that he may come
and receive the meed of bravest in the tourney!"
The knights of the black were manifestly a little disappointed that
after their victory one of their opponents should be selected for
honour. But there was no appeal from the decision of the Queen of Love
and Beauty. For that day she reigned alone, without council or diet
imperial.
The black riders had therefore to be contented with their general
victory, which, indeed, was indisputable enough.
The white knight came near and said something in a low voice, unheard by
the general crowd, to the Princess.
"I insist," she said aloud; "you must unhelm, that all may see the face
of him who has won the prize."
Whereat the knight bowed and undid his helmet. A closely-cropped
fair-haired head was revealed, the features clearly chiselled and yet of
a grave and massive beauty, the head of a marble emperor.
"My brother--you!" cried Margaret of Courtland in astonishment.
The voice of the Princess had also something of disappointment in it.
Clearly she had wished for some other to receive the honour, and the
event did not please her. But it was otherwise with the populace.
"The young Prince! The young Prince!" cried the people, surging
impetuously about the barriers. "Glory to the noble house of Courtland
and to the brave Prince."
The Ambassador looked curiously at his secretary. That youth was
standing with eyes brilliant as those of a man in fever. His face had
paled even under its dusky tan. His lips quivered. He straightened
himself up as brave and generous men do when they see a deed of bravery
done by another, or like a woman who sees the man she loves publicly
honoured.
"The Prince!" said Johann Pyrmont, in a voice hoarse and broken; "it is
the Prince himself."
And on his high seat the State's Councillor, Leopold von Dessauer,
smiled well pleased.
"This turns out better than I had expected," he muttered. "God Himself
favours the drunkard and the madcap. Only wise men suffer for their
sins--aye, and often for those of other people as well."