I looked forward to meeting Sir Conrad with a mixture of joy at the arrival of a hero and of fear at the coming of a warlock; yet when I finally met him and got used to his astounding size, I found him to be the most courteous and pleasant knight that could possibly be.
He had a fine voice and he knew thousands of songs; except on request, I don’t think that he ever repeated himself. He could dance and recite poetry for hours. The ladies insisted that we learn his polka and mazurka and waltz. Sometimes Conrad would hire a few peasant musicians and we danced and laughed into the night.
The warlocks of legend are all taciturn and secretive. Sir Conrad was eager to teach his skills to all comers, peasant and noble alike; I found his mechanic arts to be fascinating and in time I came to appreciate his reasons in the machines he planned, and even hoped that one day I would be able to imitate them.
Yet in some ways he was decidedly odd. The peasants had stopped cock-fighting because “Conrad doesn’t like it.” The winter before, when Sir Stefan had brought in a bear for baiting-that is, to be tied to a stake and be ripped apart by the castle dogs for sport–Conrad attempted to purchase the bear, slew it with a single stroke of his remarkable sword and ordered the hide to be tanned and the meat served for supper. He did not do this in sport. As he killed, they say, there was a look of great sadness on that noble face.
Then there was his attitude toward children. Now, a normal man leaves children to the women until they are old enough to be human, but Conrad took great pleasure in their company, sometimes preferring it to that of his fellow knights. He always took time to explain what he was doing and never lost his temper with them as he often did with adults. He paid the priest to teach them their letters and taught mathematics himself. Moreover, he made them toys and taught them new games and sports.
Conrad was an absolute master of the sword and soon he was teaching us regularly every afternoon. He disdained to use a shield, trusting only to his blade for blocking. Indeed, he had a low regard for the usefulness of armor! Yet he was absolutely ignorant of the use of the lance and was remarkably clumsy with one on horseback. Nor was he good with a bow, yet somehow these things only increased our affection for him; it was a joy to find that I was better than him at something!
Lastly, there was Krystyana. She was a wench from Okoitz who had traveled to Cieszyn with Conrad. It was obvious that she was hopelessly in love with him; and somehow, much of his charm and courtesy had rubbed off on her, but in a most feminine way. She had the bearing and grace of a fine noblewoman to such an extent that none of the knights could treat her as a peasant girl, but accorded her the courtesies due to one of high rank.
Soon, some of the other “ladies-in-waiting” began to imitate her, my Annastashia among them. I found this charming- indeed, I found everything that Annastashia did to be charming!-but the other knights often reacted oddly. To tumble a village wench was one thing. To have intercourse with a noblewoman was something else!
Eventually Count Lambert returned, and with almost royal company, for with him rode his liege lord, Duke Henryk the Bearded, and that lord’s son, young Prince Henryk, called the Pious. I was not privy to their conversations, but they stayed closeted with Sir Conrad for much of the afternoon.
The day after, there was to be a hunt and Count Lambert invited me to go. I am famed for my ability as a huntsman and perhaps Lambert had heard of this. Perhaps also he did not know that I stood daily guard from matins to prime, but when your father’s liege lord invites you to hunt with his liege lord, you go!
So after duty, I went hunting rather than to bed. It was a good hunt and as Fortuna would have it, Sir Conrad took first blood on a winset. Being inept with the lance, he botched the job, only wounding the bison on the shoulder. Then he lost its trail entirely and even lost himself. In the end, I finished the animal and Count Lambert retrieved our crestfallen Sir Conrad.
I missed the feast that night, falling asleep in bed still in my armor, but I was up before matins and at my post at the proper time.
But within an hour, Sir Bodan relieved me and instructed me to attend Duke Henryk in his chamber.
I had never before had conversation with so high a personage and I was nervous as I knocked on his door.
“Come in, boy. Sit down and share a cup of wine with me.” The duke was an ancient man, fully seventy years old. His face was lined and cracked and sunburned, his thick white hair brushed his wide shoulders and his huge white beard hung to below his finely tooled swordbelt. He was dressed all in purple velvet, heavily embroidered with fine gold wire.
Yet there was nothing foppish or feeble about him. His bearing was robust, his arms still powerful and his eyes … his eyes knew all things.
“Thank you, your grace.” I made a full Slavic bow to him, on my knees with my forehead to the floor.
“Up! Up child! No need for that nonsense when we’re alone. I told you to sit.”
I sat and he filled a huge golden wine cup from a silver pitcher. He drank deeply and handed the cup to me took a pull as great as his and set the cup down empty.
“Good! You drink as well as your father. If you’re half the man he is, I’ll expect great things from you.” He refilled the cup.
“I try, your grace.”
“You try right well. I know it’s a hard thing to live up to, being the son of a great father. I remember him at the Battle of Fulnek. The Moravians had us outnumbered two to one, but Sir Jan led a charge that broke their line in half. It seems like yesterday … He took their first knight with his lance, splitting shield, armor, and breast bone. He rode on with the Moravian’s shield still threaded on his lance and broke that lance on a second knight moments later, bashing him from the saddle to be trampled beneath our Polish chargers. Then he drew sword and cleared a swath through them as wide as he could reach, and his men behind him widened it. He broke their impetus and gave the rest of us time to regroup and charge the breach he’d made. We caught them on the flank, rolled them up like an old map, and the day was ours!”
“I heard he was sore wounded in that fight.”
“Yes. It was before you were born, wasn’t it? I saw a filthy peasant put a spear under his byrnie and into his gut. For a long time I feared for Sir Jan’s life, but stamina and your mother’s nursing carried him through. You know, I marked that peasant and when he turned up among the prisoners, I let all the others go, but him I hung for his impudence!”
“Ali, you look so much like your father that you could almost pass for his twin, barring age. You have much of his skill-I missed your kill today but I saw the carcass. A single thrust, straight to the heart, on an animal maddened by Sir Conrad’s clumsy blow.”
“Your grace, I heard that Sir Conrad had never before been on a hunt.”
“As did I-and that’s odd, isn’t it? A knight who could slay that almost invincible brigand, Sir Rheinburg, and singlehandedly wipe out his entire band; yet who never hunted an animal! Tell me, what do you think of him?”
“That’s hard to say, your grace. He’s such a mixture of things. Half hero and half child; half craftsman and half poet; half warlock and half saint! All I can say is that I like the man and that I trust him.”
“Tell me, would you stay with him if you could?”
“Well … yes, your grace, were it consistent with my duty and honor.”
“So. You missed tonight’s feast. ..” I started to explain but he held up his hands. “I know you did right. It was your duty to be alert and on guard tonight; missing the festivities was the honorable thing to do. But know that during them, Count Lambert settled lands upon Sir Conrad. He leaves for them at dawn and I want you to go with him.”