'Neath the Hoof of the Tartar; Or, The Scourge of God

CHAPTER V.

Chapter 53,477 wordsPublic domain

AS THE KING WILLS.

Kuthen had no idea that he should occupy Master Peter's town-house for long, nor indeed had he any wish to do so; but still he had done his best to make it home-like. It was he who, as father of the family, had apportioned to each of the household his place and duties.

To the serving men was assigned a large hall, with the greater part of the roof taken off that they might not miss the airiness of their tents, and with the wooden flooring replaced by stone slabs, that they might keep a fire burning without danger. Here they lived, and cooked, and slept, sharing their beds--rough skins spread upon the floor--with their faithful companions, the large dogs brought with them from the steppes.

The King's own apartments, with their reed mats, coarse, gaudy carpets, bladder-skin windows, and rough furniture, were not altogether comfortless or tasteless, for King Béla had presented the royal family with sundry articles of a better description, and some of the bishops had followed his example.

As for the exterior of the house, Kuthen had introduced a few changes there also. Leaving a good space all round, he had had the whole block of buildings enclosed by strong, thick walls; and as he had employed a large number of workmen and paid well, the fortifications were ready in a few weeks. They were further strengthened by the digging of a broad moat, whose drawbridge led to the gateway which formed the sole entrance.

Kuthen had many visitors, among whom Akos Szirmay was certainly the most frequent; but King Béla also came from time to time, besides often inviting the whole family to the palace. Some of the nobles also came--because the King did.

Akos was a sympathetic listener, and Kuthen, who had taken a great liking to him, enjoyed telling him his adventures and experiences. But it was quite evident to all that Akos was drawn to the house by someone more attractive than Kuthen, and also that Marána, or, as she must now be called Mária, was well aware of the impression she had made, and was by no means displeased.

The whole family were out riding one day, a few months after their arrival. This was the recreation which they loved best, and Akos, as usual, was in attendance upon Mária. The two were somewhat in advance of the rest of the party, sufficiently so to be out of hearing, when Akos presently asked his companion whether she were beginning to be accustomed to her new home, and whether she thought she could ever learn to forget the steppes and magic woods of her native land.

"Could anyone in the world forget his own home, do you think?" she answered simply, and then added, "Oh, it is all so different! You live in stone houses, which you can't move about. One might almost as well be in prison. And the walls are so thick that one can't hear anything of what is going on outside, or even in the next room; but when we lived in our open tents, far away from here, I knew in a moment who was in trouble, and who was laughing for joy. And then our family is one; what pains one, grieves the rest, and all share one another's joys and sorrows, fears and wishes."

"And isn't it so here?" said Akos; "and if we have towns and castles, don't we live much in the open air too? Have we no family-life, and are we not all united in our love for our country?"

"I don't know; maybe it is so, but I am a stranger here, and one thing strikes me--there is no unity among you! Your proud, overbearing nobles despise the people, and the people look on them with fear and envy. You are of one race, one family--at least you Magyars are, and yet there are hardly any true friends among you, or any who are ready to make great sacrifices for their country."

"You don't know us," returned Akos quickly, though he knew how much truth there was in what the girl said. "You judge from what you see around you; here in the capital there is so much gaiety, and everyone wants to be first; but it is not so in our mountains and valleys, and on the great plains. There we know what it is to love and sympathise with one another, and to be of one mind; and we are not bad neighbours. There are several different races dwelling in our beautiful land, and they all live at peace one with the other."

"Well, I don't know, but--I am afraid! I don't understand books, but I do understand faces, and there is no need for people to open their lips--I might not understand them if they did--but they speak plainly enough to me without uttering a word. _You don't love us!_ Oh! that we had stayed among the mountains, in the cool caves, or in our tents, not knowing what the morning might bring us, but with our own people all about us, ready at a word for anything! There was a sort of pleasure even in living in a state of fear, always on our guard, listening to the very rustling of the leaves. Ah! how can I make you understand?"

Mária's thoughts went back to the old times, and she saw herself once again living the old tent life in the forest shades. Perhaps her companion's thought for a moment followed hers, and he tried to picture himself as also living in those far-off regions, sharing a tent with the sweet-looking girl at his side.

Something he said to her in a low tone, to which she answered with a smile,

"Oh, you, Akos, that is different! If they were all like you, one might perhaps forget all but the things which are never to be forgotten, and the graves of our ancestors. But you, don't you know that it annoys your friends and relations to see you liking to spend so much time with us?"

"Why should my friends and relations mind? My rivals, perhaps yes!"

"There are no rivals!"

"None? not a single one?"

"Not one, Akos, for you are good; you honour my poor father in his misfortune, you honour my mother; and my brothers and Erzsébet are fond of you. How should you have any rival?"

"Marána!" said Akos gently; and when the girl turned to look at him, he saw that, though she was smiling, her eyes had filled with tears at the sound of her old name, coming from his lips.

It was an evening in autumn, and King Kuthen and all his family were gathered together in their largest apartment, where a fire was burning on the hearth, and the table was spread for their evening meal.

All looked grave; and indeed, since the time of his first arrival in Pest, in spite of all the festivities, and in spite of Béla's unfeigned kindness, Kuthen had always looked like a man who had something on his mind, something which oppressed him, and which refused to be shaken off.

As chief of an untamed, lawless people, far surpassing his followers in sense and understanding, he was the first to see that the polite attentions shown him by others than the King and his family, were all more or less forced. All was not gold that glittered, and his pride was wounded by the sort of condescension he met with from the Magyar nobles, when he remembered that not so long ago he had ruled a kingdom larger than the whole of Hungary.

Something, perhaps, was due to the change in his mode of life, something to the fact that he did not feel at ease when he took part in the court ceremonials and festivities, that he felt as if he were caged, and sighed for the freedom of the mountains and steppes. However it was, Kuthen had become quite grey during the comparatively short time he had spent in Hungary, and was already showing signs of age.

His family did not fully share his anxieties, for they were not as far-sighted as he; but the Queen and her sons and daughters were shrewd enough to see that their visitors were not all as sincere as they seemed, or wished to seem; though they ascribed this chiefly to the fact that they themselves were foreigners; and, as both sons and daughters were well-looking, and the latter something more, they had little reason to complain of any want of attention or courtesy.

Just now the King was seated at table, with the Queen and his daughters on his right hand, and his sons on his left. They were all at supper; but it was evident that Kuthen ate rather from habit than because he had any appetite.

As we have said, the dwelling was surrounded by a wide moat, and the only entrance was by the drawbridge. Whenever anyone wanted to come in, the Kunok sentinel posted at the bridge-head always blew a short blast on his horn, and this evening, just as supper was coming to an end, the horn was heard.

Whereupon the King made a sign to one of the many servants to go and see who was there, for he kept strict order in his household, and never allowed the drawbridge to be lowered, or anyone to be admitted without his permission.

On this occasion, however, it seemed that his permission was not waited for, as only a few moments passed before Akos Szirmay walked into the room, and was received with evident pleasure by the King and all his family.

It was clear enough that Marána's parents quite understood the state of affairs, and already looked on the young man as one of the family; for, with the exception of King Béla, he was the only person ever admitted without question, on his merely giving the password.

Akos came in hurriedly, his face flushed, and with something in his manner which showed plainly that he had not come on a mere ordinary visit.

Kuthen welcomed the young man with a smile, but quickly relapsed into gravity, and Akos himself, when he had taken the seat placed for him, next to Mária, glanced at the servants and held his peace.

"What is it, Akos?" Kuthen asked after a short pause, during which his visitor's manifest embarrassment had not escaped him.

"I would rather speak when there are fewer to hear me, your Highness," answered Akos.

All eyes were at once turned upon him, for the rising feeling against the Kunok was well known; and as the people of Pest had noticed, Kuthen had lately doubled the guards round his house. Whatever the news Akos had brought, they at once concluded that it must be something unpleasant.

"If there is any hurry," said Kuthen, who had regained his composure as soon as he scented danger, "let us go into the next room."

"No need for that, your Highness," returned Akos, also recovering himself. "In fact, if you will allow me, I will share your supper. There is no need for immediate action, but we must be prepared," he added in a low tone.

"Ah," sighed the Queen, "our soothsayers had good reason to warn us against coming here! We are in a state of constant unrest, and I am weary of it. For my part, I can't think why we did not leave this gilded prison long ago, and join our people in their new settlements, where we should at least be among those who love and honour us."

"You are right there, wife, and you all know it is what I have long wished," said Kuthen. "Where is the good of being called 'King,' when one has no kingdom? My people are being ruled by foreigners, and, though I sit at the King's Council, nothing that I say has any weight. No, what I want is to be the father of my large family again, as I used to be, until I go and join my ancestors. No, I will stay here no longer! The King has always been kind to us, and I will open his eyes to what is going on unknown to him."

But here a sign from Akos made the King hold his peace, and the subject was dropped for the present.

It was not Kuthen's way to betray anything like fear; and now when, to his imagination at least, the storm was already beginning to blow about his ears, he would not on any account that the servants should have so much as an inkling of that which filled his own mind.

He remained at table exactly as long as usual, and, when they all rose, he repeated as usual the Lord's Prayer, the only one he had learnt. He recited it in Latin, in an uncouth accent, and with sundry mistakes, but he said it calmly and collectedly as usual, and the rest followed his example.

Then, passing between a double row of servants, he led the way through an adjoining room to the spacious hall in which he and his family usually passed their evenings and received their guests.

The Queen and her daughters took up some sort of needle-work, and Kuthen signed to his sons to bring him one of the many dog-wood bows which hung on the wall. This he proceeded with their help to fit with a string stout enough to deserve the name of rope, for it was as big round as an ordinary finger.

The making of these unusually long and powerful bows, the chief weapon of the Kunok, and the sharpening and feathering of the arrows, was the King's favourite occupation, and one in which he displayed no little skill. The string also was of home manufacture, and, as the work went on, the young men moistened it from time to time with water.

Many a time Akos had joined them in their evening work, but to-night, as they sat round the blazing fire, his hands were idle.

"Akos, my son, we are alone now," began Kuthen composedly, "speak out, and keep back nothing. You need not be afraid, for this grey head of mine has weathered many a storm before now."

"Your Highness--father! if I may call you so"--said Akos, giving his hand to Mária, "there is a storm coming without doubt, for the wind is blowing from two quarters at once, and we are caught between the two."

"I don't understand," said Kuthen, twanging the bowstring, while one son took a second bow down from the wall, and the other got a fresh string ready.

"You will directly, sir; the Mongols are coming nearer and nearer, burning and destroying everything before them--that's the last news!"

"Haven't I told the King a hundred times how it would be?"

"You have, and he knows! But there are certain persons who seem to be expecting miracles; and meantime, to excuse themselves for sitting still, they have been whispering suspicions of other people. A few hours ago they went to the King and told him plainly what was in their minds."

"Suspicions! whom do they suspect?"

"_You_, your Highness! you and your people."

"Shame!" cried Kuthen, starting from his seat, and looking Akos straight in the face. At that moment Kuthen was every inch a king, and it was easy to understand how, though he had lost his kingdom, lost his crown, nevertheless his word had been enough to induce 40,000 families to follow him to a new home.

"And why do they suspect me?" he asked with angry resentment.

"Why?" repeated Akos, who had also risen to his feet, and now stood erect facing the King, "because there is not a creature in this world so strong as to be able to stand up against panic!"

"Is that the way you speak of your nation? and you a Magyar!" said Kuthen.

"My nation!" shouted Akos, all aflame in a moment. "I should like to hear anyone dare to speak ill of my nation! No! but father, you who own such vast flocks and herds, you know that in every fold there are sure to be a few sickly sheep; and if they are scared, no matter by what, and make a rush, you know what happens, the rest of the flock follow them; not that they are frightened themselves, but because they see the others running. A dog, or the crack of a whip is enough."

"And pray, what are these sick sheep bleating about to the King?"

"Well, to be plain, they say that the Kunok are nothing but Oktai's vanguard. That you have come in the guise of guests to spy out the land for those who sent you--for the Tartars!"

"What! I prepare the way for the robbers, who have driven us from the graves of our ancestors! who have slain our people by the thousand and made miserable slaves of others! We in league with the Tartars, our hateful foes! It is a cowardly lie! The King is too noble-hearted ever to believe such a thing! It is the talk of madmen!"

"And the King does not believe it; quite the contrary, for he spoke warmly in defence of you and----"

"Ah! that is like himself," interposed Kuthen.

"Yes; but, my good King, you have many enemies, and they have taken it into their stupid heads that, as I said before, the Kunok are the forerunners of the Tartars. They are saying, shouting, that half the danger would be done away if we had not enemies in our midst, who would turn upon us at the first signal from the Mongols."

"That is what is said by Magyars? That those whom they have received as guests, with whom they have shared their bread and their wine, will betray them! Have I spent my days among lions and tigers, that anyone dares to say such a thing of Kuthen? Oh! the cowards! Let Batu Khan come, and the King shall soon see what our arrows will do."

"I believe you!" said Akos warmly, "and so does the King, but he cannot do all that he would, and so it is for your own safety's sake, in your own interest, as he said, and to prevent greater danger--he is going to station a guard outside."

"Put me and my family under guard! imprison me! in return for my trust, and because I have brought hither through countless dangers, 40,000 families to do and die for the king, and the nation who have received me----"

Kuthen broke off suddenly here to bid his sons go and see to the horses. Late as it was, he and they would go at once to the King, unarmed, and unprotected, to learn how much a sovereign's word was worth.

In a few moments they were all three on horseback, and in court dress, for Kuthen had already adopted the Hungarian usage in this respect, as he had also learnt the language, and done all else he could to accommodate himself to the manners and customs of his new home, by way of making himself more acceptable to his hosts.

But no sooner was the drawbridge lowered than Kuthen saw himself face to face with a party of Hungarian soldiers on horseback, under the command of one of his most bitter enemies, Jonas Agha, who told the King, in curt and not the most respectful terms, that he could not be allowed to leave his dwelling.

"Then I am a prisoner! and without so much as a hearing!" exclaimed Kuthen. "Be it so then. I am the King's guest, and my friend will explain things to me. Back now, my sons! Let us set an example of submission!"

As he uttered the words, he found Akos at his side, Akos, who, though he had heard from one of the courtiers that such an order was in contemplation, had never suspected that it was already an accomplished fact. And indeed, knowing that both the King and Queen, as well as Duke Kálmán, the King's brother, were doing all in their power to defeat the intentions of the hostile party, he suspected that the present action had been taken by some over-zealous official in a subordinate position, and he now hastened forward to set right any misunderstanding.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked, standing erect in his stirrups and looking like a statue.

"The King's orders," replied Agha haughtily.

Akos was about to make some fiery reply, but Kuthen interrupted him, saying quietly, "Let it be as the King wills!" and with that he turned his horse's head from the gate.