Joan of the Sword Hand

nburg, recently established upon the throne of her ancestors, to the Duchess Joan of Hohenstein, ruler of that cluster of hill statelets wh

y were eating of the baked meats and drinking the good Rhenish up there. But, after all, it was much merrier down below with Werner von Orseln, Alt Pikker, Peter

ride of her twenty years, her eight strong castles, and her two thousand men ready to rise at her word; "down to the h

them about as if they had been hinged on the same stick, and starting forwa

er left me one or two such. Fit them upon your fingers, and when you return give them to the maide

ft eye, as he stood at attention, a little

is her

er name," quot

s, Captai

e slower of tongue than his c

comrade, in an underg

aptain Boris, with bl

he name of his sweetheart. Here is a ring apiece which will not shame your maidens in far Plassenburg, as you w

ngs again. She espied the

Boris, what said you was t

wly to himself, "did I not tel

growl came to his ear, "Katrin-

hess," said Boris, putting

e is a ring with a K writ large upon it, which will serve for thy Katherina. And here, Captain Jorian, is one with a G scrolled

aking their bows together; "we t

for their surnames if we bide a moment longer. Now then, we are safe through the door; right

g, nudging each other jovially in the dark places as if they had again been men-at-arms and no captains, as in the

ss; not a butterfly youngling or a courtly carpet knight among them, but men tanned like shipmen of the Baltic, soldiers mostly who had served under her father H

themselves presently very much at home. Scarcely were they seated when Jorian

e jest; for when her ladyship asked him a second time in her sweet voice for the name of his 'betrot

aces, through which gradually glimmered up a certain grim amusement. Werner von Orseln, the eldest and gravest of all, glanced ro

ur sweethearts to the

jovially. "Wine may be dear, but this ri

it?" said Werner, the

n we melt this-ha, ha!-Katrin's jewel, we'll quaff many a beaker. The Rhenish shall flow

, the chief captain, at this

s were not to be so

is this a night of jewels, and shall we not melt them? We may chance to get another for a second mouthful of lies to-morrow morning. A

ger in Plassenburg. The broom bush does not keep the cow betwixt Kernsberg and Hohenstein. Here are no Tables of

s cozened. An easy service yours must be. Lord! I could feather my nest well inside a year

think so, do you, Captains Boris and Jor

with the fingers of his right. "If I, Werner of Orseln, were now to walk upstairs, and in so many word

he Sword H

the very page boys lounging and scuffling in the niches, rose to their feet

up, Wends! Up, Plassenburg! Joan of the Sword H

oked at each other with surprise, but they were stout fellows, a

iers of Plassenburg," he went on, "be it known to you that if (to suppose a case which will not happen) I were to tell our Lady Joan what you have confessed to us here and boasted of-that you

the round table of the guard hall. "Heaven se

aven bless her! Take your ring in your hand, Boris, for we will go up straightway, you and I. And we will tell the Lady Duchess Joan that, having no sweetheart of legal standing, and no desire for

ice ready

hen! Quic

as the two stout soldiers set themselves to march

Jorian and Boris of Plassenburg, brave fellows both! Charge your tankards. The mead of Wendishland shall not run dry. Fill them t

and Bori

rce, for the doors were in the hands of the soldiers of the guard, and the pike points clustered

n them with hanging, and then you would make them drunk with mead as long in the head as the

Twelfth Night or after a Christmas merry-making. She would not forgive it from your old Longbeard upstairs, whose business it is-that is, if she found it out. 'To the gallows!' she would say, and we-why then we should sorrow for having to hasten the stretching of two good men. But what would you, gentlemen? We are her servants and we should be

ed Jorian. "I think we can satisfy a pair of them-but