An Unexpected Acquaintance

The Star Hall at Wenden Castle was a favorite spot for Walter von Plettenberg. He sat at the table and wrote another letter to the Master of the Teutonic Order. In it, he expressed his request to expedite the dispatch of hundreds or two more knights to help his order, motivating this with the intensified preparation of the Moscow tsar for an attack on Livonia. Having finished the message, the master folded the paper, poured hot wax on top, and attached his ring to it. Having admired a little the imprint of the family coat of arms and waited until the wax hardened, he called the secretary who was constantly on duty outside the door.

“Send a letter with our messenger, and as soon as possible! I need to know about the plans of my brother, the Master of the Teutonic Order, to decide what troops I can put up against the Tsar of Muscovy. It is impossible to remove all units from the western borders and thereby weaken the borders with the Lithuanians. Their prince, despite the peace treaty, is only waiting for us to become weaker to profit from our lands. He managed to get along with this Russian barbarian and take his daughter as his wife,” von Plettenberg began to reason. “I would take a Catholic woman - and I would not have to force my wife to change her faith. Then Moscow Ivan would have no reason to be angry. And then she is trying to make a true Catholic out of a Russian savage - it's ridiculous. Where are the well-behaved Catholics, and where is the barbaric Orthodoxy! Here is the angry daddy and poured the Lithuanian prince on the first day for his daughter, but he received little from his father-in-law near Drogobuzh - everything will not calm down. Although what can I say ... Relatives often become each other's worst enemies. And we can use their family feud to our advantage and re-organize, together with the Lithuanian prince, a campaign against the Russian barbarians. Let him go with us to avenge his father-in-law for a slap in the face. And you can also involve the Danish king in this case ... And what, that's a good idea! Maybe our neighbor will not refuse to take part in the general campaign. We'll promise him more, and then we'll see. I still need to think about it carefully. But all this later ... Well, what are you still standing here for?!” the master grumbled displeased, seeing that the secretary was listening to him attentively. “I ordered you to send my letter to the Teutonic Master. And hurry up, I don't have time to wait long! By the way, call Lucky to me.”

After a while, there was a cautious knock at the door, and a former messenger, and now a knight of the master's guard, nicknamed Lucky, appeared on the threshold. The newcomer politely bowed his head before his master and asked:

“Have you called me, Master?”

“Yes, he did come in!” croaked in response to Walter, not getting up from his chair. “I remember that the other day you complained to me about the dominance of robbers in the forests near Riga?”

“So it is, Mr. Master, I suffered from them!”

“Remember: the main thing is not that you suffered, but that I was left without a message that was addressed to me personally and, most likely, was very important!” Von Plettenberg said instructively.

“That's what I wanted to say, Master,” Lucky babbled obsequiously, bowing his head.

“You were guilty before me and our order, but I showed true Christian mercy and spared you. However, this does not mean at all that I have forgotten your offense! Therefore, you must by deed atone for your guilt before your brothers.”

“Anything, Master! I am ready to carry out any of your orders!”

“Then take two bollards from the new arrivals, and together walk through the places where you were intercepted by forest robbers. It seems to me that they are unlikely to go far from the place where they used to rob travelers. Catch me these criminals and bring them here, and most importantly - the message addressed to me, which these robbers took from you, and then I may believe that everything that you told me is true.”

“Mr. Master doubts the fairness of the outcome of the battle between me and the Mockingbird, but God rest his sinful soul? - Lucky asked with bewilderment in his voice.”

“I gave your fate to the judgment of our Lord and would never allow myself to doubt the fairness of his decision, but at the same time, I firmly believe that everyone should be able to prove their case in practice! - the head of the order answered didactically.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Master, but I in no way had the desire to question the will of our Lord and your innocence! But I have one question,” Lucky said, bowing his head obediently.

“You can ask me your question!” Von Plettenberg replied haughtily.

“Why can I only take two people with me?”

“You should know well the charter of our order, and it says that the knights have the right to retreat from the battlefield only if the enemy has more than threefold superiority in numbers,” the master said instructively.

“But there were thirty forest robbers!” the former messenger did not concede.”

“Weren't you taught how to count? Our three knights can easily withstand nine well-armed warriors, and the forest robbers, it seems to me, are not they are a well-armed enemy. Therefore, you can safely multiply this number by another three or even ten - and we will get the number already much more than thirty, which means that everything corresponds to the charter of our order. But something tells me that there were fewer forest robbers. Although I remember, you talked about fifty. Fear has big eyes, doesn't it, Lucky? “Drilling the knight with the piercing gaze of his black eyes, asked the master.

“It is in vain that Mr. Master suspects me of cowardice. It was difficult during the battle in the forest to reliably count the number of attackers,” not daring to look von Plettenberg in the eyes, the former messenger answered quietly. “But I can say for sure that there were a lot of them.”

“So go and count them!” the master was angry. “Do it!”

The sun had already risen just above the crowns of tall pines when three soldiers of the Livonian Order entered the Riga Forest: Lucky a little ahead, followed by two new bollards who had recently arrived at the Venden Castle. On them, in the rays of the sun, armor polished with sand shone dazzlingly. The horses paced slowly, and Lucky looked carefully around, trying to catch the slightest signs of someone's presence in the forest, but there was perfect silence around. Only from one of the trees, a curious ginger squirrel closely watches the actions of people. He froze in a column, holding in his teeth a hazelnut he had got somewhere, and when the three travelers disappeared into the forest greenery, he flew up like an arrow up a pine trunk, away from strangers.

Meanwhile, the Livonians were already approaching the place where the robbers attacked the messenger. The lucky one stopped his horse and turned to his companions.

“Now let's split up. I will go ahead, and you follow a little behind so that the enemy does not smell you, but do not let me out of sight. Got it?”

“Why not understand? We will catch the robbers with live bait. But you said there were three dozen of them. Can you handle it now if last time they gave you so many hips? The skinny companion asked in bewilderment.”

“I did, but for a warrior of the order, it is important to be brave and not be afraid to take risks at the right time to gain a tactical advantage over the enemy! - looking away, answered Lucky.” Therefore, when I find the enemy and enter battle with him, I will give a prearranged signal, and you will fall on the enemy with an avalanche! All clear?”

“I see ... But what kind of "avalanche" will turn out from two horsemen against thirty warriors?”

“Not warriors, but a beggar rabble who does not even have a sensible weapon!” Lucky corrected mentally.

“So why didn't you cope with this rabble yourself?” laughed the second bollard, more solid build.

“They attacked suddenly from all sides! And I won't let them take me by surprise anymore!” Lucky answered angrily and looked at the laughing bollard so that he instantly fell silent. “That's better! Now take the position and wait for my signal!”

“And what is the signal?” asked the thin one.

“I croak like a raven!” Lucky answered proudly.

“So crows don't live in the forest,” the second bollard shrugged his shoulders in bewilderment.

“Never mind! To defeat the enemy, the main thing is a surprise! Got it?”

Without waiting for the answer of his subordinates, Lucky spurred his horse slightly and with a quiet step moved along the road into the depths of the forest, listening attentively to the forest sounds. At first, he heard absolutely nothing but the singing of forest birds and the slight rustle of leaves. But suddenly a quiet neighing was heard in the distance. The lucky one even shuddered from surprise, froze in place. “Probably, it seemed,” he thought, and stood on the road, motionless, for a few more minutes. He was already ready to set off again when the neighing of another's horse was repeated. The lucky one turned his head in search of the source of the sound and finally, through the branches of the bushes, hiding the bend in the road, he saw some kind of dark spot.

It was necessary to decide to scout out on the sly what the rider was ahead, or to call assistants? In the end, thinking that the three of them would be more reliable, he gave a conventional sign: he croaked loudly, imitating a raven. The lucky guy was exaggerating his abilities as an imitator, and either the clucking of a chicken or the bleating of a ram swept through the forest. Nevertheless, the subordinates realized that the commander was calling them to him.

The three of them gathered, the soldiers of the order slowly drove around the bend and saw a carriage, near which an elderly coachman was bustling about. The lucky one stopped, drove off the road closer to the bushes, and gave a signal to his companions to do the same. Looking closely, he realized that the rear axle of the carriage was most likely broken, so the coachman walked around, not knowing how to get down to business. Next to the road, on a hillock, on a spread of fur mat sat a man in a white wig, shouting something to the coachman in an incomprehensible language.

“These are Moscow spies coming from Riga with an important report,” said Lucky, quietly, but so that the satellites could hear. “Looks like we got a big shot! Look, in the carriage and the wig, huh? Yes, for such a booty, the master will surely reward us with a wallet with coins.”

“And how did you understand that he was a spy?” Looking sideways at the coachman who was busy with the axle mastered the skinny bollard.

“What have I, Moscow spies have never seen, or what ?!” the former messenger answered sharply. “It is very simple to identify them: they speak German with us, and as soon as they are alone, they immediately switch to their native language, so as not to rack their brains with foreign words. And the most important of them are also very richly dressed. Look, now they think that they are alone in the forest, and therefore speak their native language, and when other people appear, they will speak German, and then no one will suspect that they are sent spies. Let's drive up and you will see that they will immediately speak our language.”

“But we can't make out what language they speak,” the fat bollard asked in bewilderment.

“It doesn't matter, I already know that they speak their language. The main thing is that when we arrive, they will immediately switch to German! - answered Lucky, completely confident in his righteousness.”

“Well, let's try,” the skinny man said uncertainly.

“But keep in mind, as soon as this one in a wig speaks German, we immediately grab him and take him to the castle to the master.”

“And the carriage? Asked the skinny one.”

“And what about the carriage?” the former messenger was surprised.

“So, maybe there is something valuable in it or an important report to their superiors?” the fat one entered the conversation.

“Well, so I say: grab this in a wig, and at the same time a carriage! That's it, enough talk here. Forward!” not at a loss, ordered Lucky.

The trio turned out from behind the bushes onto the road and, spurring their horses, rushed straight to the carriage. The man in the wig, seeing the soldiers of the order rushing towards him, happily waved his hand at them.

“In an infection, he still smiles at us! These Russian spies are already completely insolent! They behave in Livonia just like at home!” shouted Lucky, not slowing down the horse.

Three swordsmen flew up to the carriage and immediately surrounded the people riding in it. The coachman began to look around in confusion, and the man in the wig rose from his skin with dignity and said in the purest German:

“Let me introduce myself. Ambassador of His Majesty the King of Sweden Baron Stalentraug. To whom do I have the honor to speak?”

“Well, what did I tell you ?!” Lucky asked his companions cheerfully while smiling so happily as if he had already received the greatest award from the hands of the master of the order himself. “The purest German language, which is to be expected from an enemy spy!”

Two riders smiled knowingly in response and began to push the "spy", frightened by the menacing snoring of the warhorses, to his carriage.

“What's going on here?!” exclaimed the envoy of the Swedish king, indignant at such treatment. “I am a representative of a foreign state! You have no right to detain me! I will complain to my king, and then you will be in trouble because he will demand from your master the most severe punishment for you!”

“We know which state you are a messenger!” Lucky laughed happily. “He will still threaten us! Now we will take you straight to the Grand Master, and you will tell him everything about your sufferings and ask for severe punishment! But who will be punished and who will be awarded - we'll see!”

The fat bollard, without a word, drew a hefty sword from its scabbard and hit the ambassador flat on the head with full swing. Even a wig did not save him, and he fell to the ground as if knocked down.

“What have you done, you bastard?!” Lucky shouted at him. “For whom will the master pay us now?”

“Yes, I'm not strong,” embarrassed, he began to make excuses.

“He's not strong!” Lucky mimicked. “Go dead already!”

“In an hour he wakes up,” the guilty shrugged his shoulders.

“Okay, let's see what's in his carriage? Where is the coachman?”

“I probably ran away,” the skinny one answered indifferently.

“How did he run away?!” Lucky was indignant, but after thinking a little, he continued peacefully: “Okay, the main thing is that they took the spy.”

He dismounted from his horse, approached the "spy" lying on the ground, and tried to assess his condition. It seemed to him that the prisoner was not breathing. The lucky one kicked his prey lightly, but it did not move.

“No, fat, it seems you killed him after all,” the former messenger sighed in frustration.

The accused of manslaughter only shrugged his shoulders in bewilderment, also got down from the horse and, going up to the body sprawled on the ground, in turn, investigated the face of the "spy".

“Don't you see? He's pink, which means he's still alive!” the fat man grinned.

Satisfied with the bollard's answer, Lucky climbed into the carriage and twirled around in it a little, finding nothing of value there. Then his gaze fell on a large sheet of paper lying on the seat and covered with incomprehensible patterns. He took the paper in his hands and turned it over and over. "These spies do not even know how to write humanly so that normal people could read!" - Lucky spat indignantly. He had never seen a road map before.

“Well, what's here?” Putting his head in the open door of the carriage, asked the skinny one.

“Nothing interesting!” Lucky grunted in irritation. “The papers are incomprehensible - encrypted, probably.”

“Did you look under the seat?”

“No, but where?”

“Have you never seen carriages?”

“You need - you and watch! I'm on a carriage ah, I don’t drive around!” Lucky snapped offendedly.

“Okay, move over!”

The skinny man climbed into the carriage too, took off the soft pads, and opened the lid of the chest hidden under the seat. The lucky guy and the skinny bollard glanced in there at once and whistled loudly at the same time.

“What are you doing here?” Now the thick face of the second bollard appeared in the doorway.

“And look at this disgrace yourself! I just have no words! The Muscovites have become completely insolent!” Lucky said irritably.

“What's going on here?” The fat man asked in bewilderment.

Grunting, he climbed the step and tumbled into the carriage, pushing his comrades with his voluminous body, so much so that they fell into the next seat.

“Careful, you lame!” Lucky was indignant.

“Well, what did you see here?” Asked the fat man, completely ignoring the remark, and glanced over to where his brothers in the order were recently looking.

At his feet was a chest filled to the brim with all kinds of jewels. Even in the dim light shining through the open door of the carriage, diamonds shimmered with colored lights. Nearby lay a mountain of chopped gold plates. The treasures beckoned to themselves and demanded that they immediately be taken in hands and stroked. The fat man was so confused that his legs gave way, and he sat down on the knees of his comrades sitting behind him. There was a deafening scolding.

“Where are you sitting down, you goof ?!” shouted Lucky. “You don’t have eyes?”

“I have no eyes behind me,” the fat man answered in an indifferent voice, but he did not move from his place and continued to examine the riches. “Listen, what if we don't tell the master about our find? We are now secured for the rest of our lives and can even today calmly return to our home. Truth?”

The fat man with a childishly naive expression on his face turned to his comrades, but they, instead of gladly accepting his offer, only groaned under the weight of the massive body.

“You at least got off of us, to begin with,” Lucky grumbled apologetically, to whom the meaning of the words spoken by the fat man slowly began to reach.

“Of course,” he replied, and straightened up to his full height.

There was a loud banging sound. This brute with all his might banged his head against the ceiling of a rather low carriage, after which pitch darkness fell.

“What did you do, you bum?!” Lucky shouted at him again. “Why did you close the carriage door? You can't see anything!”

“Yes, I did not close it at all!” the fat man grumbled in response and began to grope for a way out in the dark, stepping on the feet of his comrades.

There were shouts and curses again.

“Yes, you already open the door!” commanded Lucky.

“I try, but it does not open,” the big man complained.

“What do you mean it does not open?!” Lucky shouted again and squeezed to the door himself.

He leaned on her with all his body, but she did not even think to open up. The lucky guy moved away from a little and tried to take it off the raid, but the result was the same.

“Enough for you there puffing! All the same, nothing will work,” someone's voice rang out from outside. “We have secured both doors with logs, and now you cannot get out of your dungeon without our help.”

The voice was slightly mocking, painfully familiar to Lucky. “The robbers! - the right thought immediately slipped through his mind. - This is their leader ... How is he? …Stajan! " The memory helpfully threw him even the name of the enemy, but this did not change anything at all. Lucky walked away from the door, fumbled for a seat in the dark, and sat down on it dejectedly. Hands themselves limp dropped to their knees. "That's it, now it's over for us!" He thought.

“Hello, German, do you still remember me?” there was a deep laugh outside the carriage door. “Do you remember how well I smoothed your sides last time?”

Exactly. It was Vsevolod, for whom the iron of his helmet was no stronger than thin parchment. The Lucky one nervously shrugged his shoulders and quietly whined to himself.

“What are you doing?” Hearing a plaintive squeak, asked the skinny one sitting next to him.

“It's them!” Lucky hissed in panic.

“Who are they?” did not understand the fat man who was still trying to open the carriage door.

“Forest robbers who captured me last time!” The brave knight whistled nervously, losing his natural voice from the tension.

“So that's what they are, these forest robbers!” answered the skinny one, too, for some reason in a half-whisper, as if it would change something if his voice was heard outside the carriage door.

Full knight tried once again with his whole body to lean on the door, but the carriage was made to last and, apart from a deafening roar, nothing came of it. Only a small piece of red velvet, which had previously been a curtain, fell from a small mica window, and it became a little brighter in the carriage. But the window was so small that even the thinnest of the three knights could not squeeze through it.

ЭHey, you don’t make a big deal there! Remain prudent. And do not strain too much, otherwise, it will soon come noon, and it will become very hot in your carriage. So, you can take off your armor little by little - so it will be easier for you to breathe. Yes, and they will not be useful to you today anymore,” Vsevolod continued to have fun.

“Fiends!” Lucky shouted hysterically. “Let us out immediately, otherwise the Grand Master will grind your entire gang to dust!”

“Where is your master, and where are we!” Stajan chuckled, “you say that we are monsters! No, we are still kind to you, but we can do what you did to my father recently.”

“I don’t know your father, and I don’t want to know who did with him and how!” shouted in the small window of the carriage Lucky.

“You don’t know, so your comrades-in-arms may have heard!” Stajan replied harshly. “Maybe they know how your master burned my father alive in his own house. And now I have every right to repay him in kind!”

“You can't do this to us!” shrieked Lucky, mentally imagining himself burning in a locked carriage. “I didn’t take part in the burning of your father. Maybe they were, but not me!”

The fat and skinny shook their heads together, thereby trying to show as convincingly as possible that they had nothing to do with it either.

“And I do not care which of you burned my father, and who did not! You serve the Master of the Livonian Order, who has gone through all my land with fire and sword. It is you who came to kill us, not we to you! So, you are guilty of the death of my fellow tribesmen, and my father too! Gera, stop talking to them! A pointless exercise. Let's put dry grass and branches under the carriage and let them burn like my father!” Stajan turned to his friend, and he rushed like an arrow into the forest.

The trapped warriors of the order calmed down, not believing in the reality of what was happening to them. The lucky guy tried to collect all his will into a fist and grabbed his head with both hands.

“We have to do something, but what?” he said in a strained voice. Finally, having thought up, he pushed the fat man aside and squeezed to the window. “I tried to see my enemy through the mica, but in vain - it was too muddy. Once again he tugged at the door - again to no avail.”

“Or maybe give them the jewelry? The fat man asked plaintively looking towards the huge casket.” Even though they will be of some use to us, otherwise they will be lost for nothing, and so will we.

“And what, the fat one says! Then we here to burn alive, it is better to share the found wealth with the robbers. After all, we cannot give them everything, - supported the skinny comrade and pointed to his pockets, where he had already managed to put something.”

The Lucky one was even glad that his comrades in misfortune thought the same way as he did. He sighed sadly and shouted:

“And if we ransom our lives - will you let us go?”

“Will you give a lot?” Stajan chuckled.

Lucky walked away from the window and went to the open chest. Without disassembling, he climbed into it with two palms and took as much as he could grab at a time. He returned to the window and, breaking through the mica, threw into it everything that he could collect from the casket.

Just at that moment, Gera returned from the forest. He went to the jewels scattered on the ground, gathered them into the hem of his shirt, and took them to Stajan, who was sitting on the side of the road. He took them and began to touch the diamonds shimmering in the sun with multi-colored lights, then he tasted a piece of gold on his tooth and asked in surprise:

Do you have a lot of that kind of stuff there?”

“Lot!” Suddenly came the voice of the "Moscow spy" who had come to his senses behind him.

The ambassador of the Swedish king was gradually beginning to come to his senses. He was already sitting with his back against a pine tree and was vigorously rubbing his bruised head with his hands. He was no longer wearing his wig. A huge red bump could be seen through the sparse whitish hair. Squinting his eyes, the ambassador looked at the displeased face of Lucky sticking out in the small window of the carriage, then at Stajan and said thoughtfully:

“If not for you, dear sir, it seems to me that this gang of robbers, who consider themselves noble knights of the Livonian Order, would very soon deprive me of both the casket with the jewels and my life itself.”