Chapter 9
"Did we have to be on the road so early?" groaned Jan.
"Yes, we did, and Pan Zagłoba, the temporary steward, isn't complaining," said Jurko.
"I haven't bothered to sober up," said Zagłoba, cheerfully. "So I don't have a hangover."
"I didn't get drunk, but it's still very early. Very well, my glorious captain, why are we on the road so early?" asked Jan.
"Because if we can get this mopped up and back before too late, Father Tytus might fit in another grammar lesson for me," said Jurko. "I am looking forward to being able to read books fluently in Polish and Latin, to be able to learn more things."
"And I spent half my childhood trying to evade my tutor!" laughed Jan.
"You'd have appreciated him more if you'd never had the opportunity," said Jurko.
"Aye, I dare say I would," said Jan. "Pan Zagłoba is more than a steward, I have heard he used to be a famed swordsman as well."
"Less of the 'used to be', my boy," said the Ruthenian szlachcic. He was a heavy-set man who was also overweight, and by the ruddy hue of his face, he drank too much. However, it was impossible for his face to fall into any folds, awake or asleep, which were not good-natured and genial. He drew on a flask at his belt and wiped his moustaches with a sigh of pleasure. They, like his hair, were pepper-and-salt, greying in speckles, and spoke of his years being late middle age. However he had mounted in a fashion which was spry enough, and sat his horse easily.
"I can help you with your Latin and grammar," said the older szlachcic. "If I'm to be teaching this young prince, I could do with the practice."
"I'd relish that," said Jurko. He felt at something of a disadvantage at the head of a troop of mixed winged hussars and other knights, all of them better educated than he was. It was heady to be leading them, though.
"What do you need?" asked Zagłoba.
"Conversation in Latin, and being corrected for things I say wrong," said Jurko. "I can get by, but I always feel that szlachta look sideways and snigger at me speaking like a small child."
"Small children pick things up and learn, and speaking is the best way for you to do so too," said Zagłoba. "And your friend and I won't be judgemental or laugh at you. The only thing to worry about is the extra declensions; in Polish we have male, female and neuter. Latin has a secondary female declension, and one in which you can have male, female and neuter. The Romans did it on purpose to make all the people they conquered feel inferior," he said, with his eyes twinkling.
"I almost even believe that," said Jurko.
"Well, why don't you tell me more about Rozłogi and the people I will meet, and I will stop you to go over any minor mistake?" said Zagłoba.
Jurko was pleased to discover that conversationally, he was less at a disadvantage than he had feared, and was surprised to find how quickly the ride had gone.
They rode into the open gate of Rozłogi, and a man running out stopped.
"It's Jurko! Hej, Jurko, good to see you! What's all this, have you looted a load of wings?"
"Simeon!" said Jurko, swinging off his horse. "You will be less pleased to see me presently; but I hope you will hear me out before making any judgement or taking any foolish action."
"That sounds ominous," said Simeon.
"It is, somewhat," said Jurko. "Let me introduce you to Pan Onufry Zagłoba; I believe you met Pan Jan Skrzetuski."
"Yes, he came looking for Helena," said Simeon. "Has she been found? I confess I've been worried, but mother said there is nothing we might do."
"Yes, Helena is safe in Kijów with Prince Jeremi, under the care of the Princess Gryzelda," said Jurko.
"Oh." Simeon's tone was hollow. "Mother is not going to be pleased."
"I negotiated very fast with my ... prince on your behalf," said Jurko.
"You found out, then?" said Simeon, who had not missed the slight pause as Jurko changed what he had been going to say.
Jurko stared.
"You knew? You knew and you never told me?" he whispered. "All these years you let me go fatherless when you knew?"
"Mother said you would be easier ...uh, happier ... if you did not know," said Simeon, flushing.
"Easier to control you started to say and it's what she meant," sneered Jurko. "I know she never loved me even if she did pretend I was an adopted son of hers, it's not news to me."
"She's my mother; I have to go along with what she says," said Simeon.
"Not any more. I have orders to take her in charge, and in return for giving her a comfortable life, my father only requires you all to enter his service."
"It leaves us little room to choose."
"I chose for you; service not death," said Jurko, harshly. "Now I have a father who listens to me and takes my word that you are honourable men, not traitors, who lets me argue with him on your behalf. Use it wisely, Simeon, and don't make me look like a liar to my father, and I'll see that the old woman is comfortable and surrounded with every luxury."
"What of Wasylij? He cannot serve."
"He is to live out his life here; and Mikolaj is to be educated and taught to be steward for Helena."
"I see. It is generous, I suppose."
"I doubt you'd be leaving here if your mother had not thought to try to treat Helena badly and cheat her out of her inheritance."
Simeon sighed.
"No, I suppose not. I need to explain this to my brothers."
"That's why I told you first. Explain very carefully. Some of my companions get twitchy if looked at the wrong way."
"They are real winged hussars then?"
"Yes, they are. Jan is my first officer and Pan Zagłoba is to be steward here. He's an amiable fellow, you need not fear the lad will be in danger of anything but learning more about wine than about Latin."
"He's a sot?"
"He has a capacity a sot would envy. My father says he's as dangerous drunk as sober, but with fewer inhibitions. He's also a noted swordsman. He just sings when drunk while he kills people." Jurko exaggerated what he had been told for his father's man's safety.
Simeon went into the dwór, abruptly to have a quick word with his brothers; then came back to ask Jurko and his companions within.
The place felt too much like home, yet there were humiliations here as well. Most of which had come from the old woman.
"Jurko, my falcon! Where have you been?" she cried.
"Princess Kurcewiczowa, I am here on the orders of Prince Jeremi to arrest you for the attempted fraud and ill-treatment of the rightful heir of Rozłogi," he said.
"You swore an oath to me!"
"When I felt I had no other way of protecting Helena? Yes. But she is not yours to give, and so my oath to you is worthless. My father explained this and absolved me of it," said Jurko. "And I find you knew who my father was, and still called me your little bastard falcon. You disgust me."
She pulled knife on him; and a swordsman reacts automatically to such a threat. With consummate skill he pulled the blow, and the knife went flying, along with the old woman's hand.
There was a long silence, broken by the old woman's scream. Jurij started to move towards Jurko.
"She drew blade first," said Simeon. "Jurko, for pity's sake, can anyone stop her from bleeding to death?"
"Pine tar," said Jurko. "Heat it." He took her arm and raised it, wrapping a kerchief round it tightly as a tourniquet, whilst someone ran to heat tar.
"My pacholik is good at healing," said Jan. "He's only a boy of thirteen, but he's good."
"Send him to deal with her," said Jurko. "I'm going to collect my belongings and pack my bags; unless her sons decide to fight me."
"We'd lose," said Simeon. "I say we accept Jurko's offer. Mother brought it on herself."
"Fine loyalty!" spat the old woman. "I did everything I did for you!"
"No you didn't," said Jurko, "You used them to further your own aims too, or you'd not have sent them out eagerly to loot with me. You'll have a gilded cage with whoever my father places you with, but you will not further spoil Rozłogi for Helena when she is old enough to choose a husband. And it will be her choice."
"Don't pretend you don't want her," sneered the old woman.
"More than anything. But I also love her, and true love is about leaving freedom of choice. I've learned that. And Helena shall have free choice. And if she chooses me, or my lord-brother Jan or ... or a third, we will abide by it and be her knights."
"Touching," sneered the old woman.
Jan's blond servant ran in. He looked, thought Jurko, like an overgrown putto from some Italian painting.
"Rzędzian, please patch up the old woman," said Jan, and Jurko passed the old woman's wrist to the boy.
"Yes, my lord," said Rzędzian. "It's a nice clean cut. Did you do it, my lord?"
"No, it was my lord-brother Jurij Korybut Bohun," said Jan.
The old woman almost forgot her pain to stare.
"He acknowledges?" she gasped.
"Unofficially," said Jurko, smiling nastily. "You thought I'd go charging off to see him, to demand answers and it would bring attention on you; well, I cannot officially claim him because of his in-laws, but it is an open secret and I am adopted to his banner. He was totally open with me," he added, fighting the tears of emotion which threatened again. Part of him whispered in his own head 'you could have had this years ago,' and the black rage threatened.
Some of it must have shown in his eyes, as Simeon took a step back.
Jurko sneered and fought back the anger.
"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger," he said. "And I have been able to lay success at my sire's feet, and receive his praise for it. I may have grown up a fatherless bastard but at least I never was a Mama's baby."
He stalked out of the room to the room which had been for his own use, and leaned back on the door he shut with great control rather than slamming it. He took several long, shuddering breaths as he fought with himself. He had sworn that Helena would never see his rage; and the only way to ensure he kept that oath was to refuse to let it take him ever again. He did not need to rage about what might have been; it was as it was, he had survived it, come out stronger than a pampered prince like poor little Michał seemed to be, and he had a father who was proud of him.
He had more than these poor princes, whose mother might love them in her own way, but who definitely saw them as assets.
And he had himself under control. It was possible. He could concentrate on what was positive in his life and defeat the rage.
While he was here, he began packing up all that was his. It kept him from having to talk to anyone and denting his still fragile self-control. He gloated over chests and presses of valuable fabrics to take to Helena, and to use himself to dress as few szlachcice might. Another chest, locked still, he was glad to note, was filled with gold, silver and crystal chalices and plate, ornaments fantastically wrought, and all worth more than their weight in precious metals and gems. He let a rope of perfect pearls run through his fingers, reflecting how well it would look, restrung for Helena, made to her taste, and pearls over for matching earrings, tiara, and anything she fancied. His spirit was soothed, thinking of how much pleasure he would have in startling her with so many pretty things. One chest was entirely filled with jewellery and extra special cloths just for her, which he had been collecting in case his secret hopes might one day be fulfilled.
He packed everything into bundles for the pack ponies, and then took himself to Helena's room.
There was nothing on the dressing table.
He went to the old woman's room, and there was the silver-mounted dressing table set.
Jurko gathered it up and went to where Rzędzian had finished bandaging the stump of her wrist. Jurko dropped the hairbrush, make-up pots and mirror onto the table.
"They were not in her room," he said to the princess.
"She didn't take them with her; I always said she didn't deserve to have such treasures," said the old woman. "Stupid careless girl lost the comb though."
"I told her to travel light!" snarled Jurko. "She brought the comb with her to have something of it. You don't get it, do you? How I hate the way you disparage her! Well, maybe this will drive the message home."
A viper-fast hand shot out, bending the old woman over the table and the back of Helena's hairbrush plied with hard strokes to her rump. She shrieked.
"And now you will remember it is hers as you ride," said Jurko, grimly. "Take that from me as my parting gift to you."