Meeting in the forest

The light-covered wagon rode slowly, creaking with the wheels that had long been requiring lubrication. The sun was pleasantly warm. The forest birds chirped merrily. The cart rolled slowly along the well-worn forest road leading from Mitava to Riga. The two cities were only two and a half dozen miles apart. The horse was deftly driven by a young, fair-haired girl, and next to her was a rather strong man of about forty or fifty, who from time to time diligently wrote something down. Ahead rode a cart, unlike the cart, which did not have shelter from the weather. And the two people who were sitting in it were dressed much more simply.

The man was the merchant Friedrich, who was returning from the city market in Mitava with his daughter Maria and two workers. With a lead pencil, he jotted down the results of his latest deals in neat handwriting on rough gray paper. The merchant was very proud of the newly acquired writing utensils, which he bargained for from a visiting German merchant. The price, of course, he broke the exorbitant, but Frederick believed that the costs were worth it, because pencils made it possible to keep a detailed record of income and expenses in field conditions, without requiring fiddling with a pen and ink. “Strict accounting is the shortest path to wealth. In your household, you need to consider everything, down to the smallest detail! Otherwise - ruin and poverty! " - so spoke his father, the founder of their family merchant business. From time to time, the cart swayed sharply on the bumps of the forest road, but this could not distract Friedrich from the calculations. He was so carried away that he did not immediately realize that the horse had stopped.

“Why are we standing?” finally noticing this, he shouted to the farm laborers riding in front. “In five hours, it will start to get dark, and with the last rays, we need to have time to pass the city gates. Get a move if you don't want to spend the night in an open field near the walls of Riga. The guards won't even talk to us. Not in time - that means, not in time. At our burgomaster's house, you can't get overwhelmed!”

“Master, there is a log on the road!” An older worker answered in an uncertain voice, looking around cautiously.

“So what?! What are we now, to stand near some old tree blown down by the wind and look at it?! Get off the wagon quickly and get this log out of the way!”

“I’m afraid somehow, master,” the junior farm laborer responded uncertainly.

“What are you afraid of?! On the eve of the bad weather, so the wind knocked the tree down on the road! The owner shouted in a deliberately firm voice to encourage his farm laborers.”

However, for some reason, Friedrich himself felt very uneasy in his heart, and he involuntarily began to listen to the forest surrounding them. But there was absolute silence around, only a lone woodpecker lazily tapped on a pine tree. Birdie was looking for food. The merchant once again looked around the nearest bushes with a wary glance, but everything was quiet. Not a single twig moved. Only on the tops of the trees did the wind go, but even it did not penetrate deep into the forest.

Friedrich listened intently but did not find anything suspicious in the forest sounds. There was complete calm all around. He was about to give the go-ahead to the farm laborers, assuring them, and more of himself, that everything was in order when suddenly the nearest bush shook. Maria gasped loudly and, clutching her right hand from fear to her impressively rounded chest, rolled head over heels off the bench, instantly sank into the very depths of the cart under the tarp, and fell silent. Frederick remained in place, but with one hand he grabbed the pitchfork that lay under his feet, cautiously looking at the bushes that were moving.

“Who's there?” He shouted. “Come on out! I am not kidding! There are many of us, and you cannot cope with us!”

The branches of the bushes immediately froze, as if the rascal sitting there was frightened by the menacing shout of the merchant. Even the restless woodpecker stopped knocking on the tree, sat high on a branch, and tilted his head curiously to get a better look at who was making such noise there. Complete silence reigned around again.

“Well, take a pitchfork and see who so brave hiding in the bushes is! Frederick shouted to the workers.”

Those reluctantly together got off the cart. Armed with pitchforks and cautiously looking around, they came closer to the suspicious bush. Stopping a couple of steps from him, the farm laborers began nervously poking their pitchforks into the thick of the green branches. For some time nothing happened, but then the bush shuddered again, and one of the farm laborers fell to the ground dead. In his chest was a knife with a bone handle. The second, fearfully looking around, began to quickly back away, randomly waving a pitchfork in front of him, and after him, a five of robbers, dressed in a lot of clothes, fell out of the bushes with a whoop. One of them, a brute with a disheveled black beard, bent over the killed farm laborer and, resting his leg on the lifeless body, pulled out a knife from him. Unhurriedly, he wiped the blade on the clothes of the deceased and, squinting, looked at his comrade, whose pants treacherously began to get wet in the causal place. Noticing this, the robbers, who had already bypassed him from both sides, laughed loudly.

The leader turned his gaze to Frederick.

“Well, hello, gentlemen,” grimacing with a toothless mouth, he said. “What can you share with an honest company?”

Lazily scratching his hairy chest through a torn shirt, the robber seemed to reluctantly munch on the words. From under his well-worn gray linen cap, his hair, which had not been washed for a long time, was knocked out.

The merchant looked around nervously. Somewhere behind his back, his daughter was hiding in a carriage. He tightened his grip on the pitchfork.

“Don't spoil there!” looking at the sharply sharpened pitchfork, the leader barked and nodded to his two accomplices.

They quickly ran up to Frederick and without ceremony dragged him to the ground, putting him on his knees in front of the leader.

“What are you doing, don’t respect us, or what?” grinning, he asked, walking behind the merchant's bank, and bending down sharply to put the blade of the same knife to the victim's throat, which he had used a couple of minutes earlier. “If you are to us without any respect, then we too can easily kill you!”

“Father!” A girl's cry came from the cart. Martha abruptly drew back the curtain and looked with hatred at the foul-smelling bruiser. “Let go of my father, rag!”

“Oh, look, what kind of mulberry we have appeared. And we wander through the forest without any female affection, like orphan wolves!” said the leader with a grin and straightened, removing the knife from Frederick's throat.

“Immediately release my father, or I will complain to the city guards, and the burgomaster will round up you!” Mary screamed indignantly again.

There was lively laughter from the leader, who was amicably echoed by the other four ragamuffins. The big guy, wiping the tears that had come out from laughter with his paws, said contentedly:

“Nobody else amused me so much! You must be left with us! You will entertain us day and night, and sometimes we will feed you for it!”

The robbers laughed again, and the farmhand, seeing that no one was paying attention to him, threw the pitchfork to the ground and dashed along the road towards Riga. But before he had time to run even five steps, the leader's knife stuck under his left shoulder blade.

“Skinny, go get my knife. Yes, wipe it off better!” barked the big man to the accomplice standing next to him. “I don’t advise you to be cocky, good gentlemen, otherwise I may be angry, and if I am angry, then everyone is bad! Skinny?”

The accomplice nodded his head and, too, imitating the leader, grinned, looking with oily eyes at Maria, but immediately received a slap from him.

“Don't gape your eyes! It’s not an honor for a product! She's mine, waking up!”

The big guy slowly walked over to the cart and held out his unwashed paw to Maria. She shrank all over with fear and disgust. The leader grabbed her hand and unceremoniously pulled her towards him. The girl screamed so that the villain's ears were blocked, and he immediately punched her in the ear with his other hand. Maria's head dangled like a rag doll, blood flowed from her ear, and she lost consciousness. The big man took her in his arms and pulling her out of the cart, lowered her to the ground. The victim lay unconscious, curly brown hair disheveled, and a mouth with soft, full lips slightly parted. The blouse on the girl's rounded chest was torn, and a snow-white body was visible from under it.

Having looked at the prey better, the leader clicked his tongue, looked suspiciously at the accomplices, and said:

“A good girl, but not yours! She's mine! I will use it for the first time! It's been a long time since I had a woman! And you,” the big man looked at his gang from under his brows, “and you can't think! That I suspect - I will kill! Do you understand, you stupid fools?!”

“Maria!” looking at his daughter, cried Friedrich in horror, trying to get to his feet and rush to the leader of the gang, who, with a nasty grin, untied the ribbon on his dirty trousers.

He stopped and, looking back at his accomplices, ordered:

“This screamer should be searched and tied up! And do not forget to check the cart thoroughly, while I try, is this delicious-looking girl so tasty! Stop staring at someone else's! You want to eat and drink?! Then get down to business, loafers!”

And the merchant and his young daughter would hardly have escaped a sad fate if it had not happened that at the same time and in almost the same place Stajan, Vsevolod, and Gera did not stop to rest and dine. Zinger turned out to be a wonderful hunter, not a single animal could leave him: neither a wild boar, nor a roe deer, nor a share. He, like a hare, ran in zigzags after prey, put loops, dug trapping holes. So, friends did not remain without food. And now, on their spit, a young boar exuded delicious aromas. And as soon as the friends were about to start the meal, a heart-rending girlish cry was heard nearby.

“Who in our forest yelled like that?” Rising to his feet, asked the alarmed Gera. - Has something happened?

The women's screams died down, but soon there was a man's scream in the same direction. Then the whole trio jumped to their feet, and, without saying a word, the friends rushed towards the noise. When they ran out onto the road, an unsightly picture opened in front of them: a healthy fellow with his pants down was joining a girl who was lying on the ground, two others were searching for the helpless old man, and two more, swearing loudly, climbed on the carts and threw all kinds of rags on the ground, clearly wanting to find something valuable among them.

Stajan, without thinking twice, rushed to the aid of a girl who had already come to herself and was screaming in horror girl, Gera rushed to rescue the old man, and Vsevolod, rubbing his hefty fists, slowly, waddlingly approached the ragamuffins, enthusiastically swarming in the cart.

The two nimble men who searched the merchant did not understand what had happened to them. A second ago, they peacefully rummaged in the captive's pockets - and now both are lying on the ground, showered with a hail of blows. They tried to be indignant, but they ran out of arguments very quickly, and both peacefully settled down next to each other to rest. Vsevolod resolved the issue with the other two marauders even faster: he simply took them by the collar when they bent over a sack full of all goodness, and laid his foreheads with a swing. Probably, had he done it a little harder - and the heads of the poor fellows would have cracked like ripe watermelons. The big man effortlessly lifted the hapless robbers over the cart and threw them to the ground.

“Aren't you in a hurry, ohalnik ?!” Standing behind the leader of the robbers, Stajan said through clenched teeth?

He turned around and saw a stranger looking unkindly at him. Looking around nervously, he immediately realized that the matter was taking on a bad turn: all his accomplices were lying motionless on the ground, and two more strangers were approaching him. The big guy got down on all fours and then on his feet. The leggings fell to the ground and exposed the oud, burning with impatience. He covered it with his hands and looked back at Mary crawling towards the pine tree and trying to cover her bare chest. Then he turned to Stajan and, withstanding the force, asked:

“Who are they?”

“Pick up your pants!” Stajan answered with disgust. “Now, until the end of your life, your household will be unnecessary for you!”

The leader slightly opened his arms and looked at the suddenly sagging oud. Then he turned his gaze to Stajan and from his eyes, I realized that the guy was not joking. The big guy tried to say something, but only screamed like a woman and looked in horror at the person standing in front of him. The ringleader's voice changed: not a trace remained of the humming bass; instead, only an unpleasant squeak was heard. Picking up his trousers from the ground and trying to put them on as he walked, he rushed away from the fearful man. Running away, he looked around, but when Stajan looked at him again, he screamed heart-rendingly and added speed.

“Let me help you up,” Stajan said, addressing Maria, and, throwing his jacket over the girl’s shoulders, held out his hand to her.

For the first time in her life, Maria saw a guy with golden hair and piercing blue eyes. She involuntarily glanced at the tall, handsome young man, but immediately, embarrassed, lowered her eyes and held out her hand.

Gera untied the merchant and helped him to his feet. He rushed to his daughter, hugged her, and lamented:

“Sorry, dear, your old man could not protect you from the robbers. And our laborers were killed for no reason!”

Maria hugged her father and began stroking his gray head.

“Well, what could you do alone against a whole gang, father? Thank God, everything worked out, and they did not have time to harm either you or me, and you and I remained alive. And all thanks to these brave people.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” answered the father, looking with some suspicion at the trinity of tall, strong guys.

“Do not be afraid of us. We will not harm you in any way!” Stajan tried to calm him down and added with a grin: “My friends and I are hunting for other prey! My name is Stajan, and this is Gera. Next to him is Vsevolod.”

“My name is Friedrich, I am a merchant, and this is my daughter Maria. We are grateful to you for our salvation and will be grateful for the rest of our lives. You saved my daughter, and who is your prey, if not a secret?” He asked with the curiosity typical of trading people.

“Those who burn houses and kill people. Similar to those who burned my friend's father!” answered Gera and looked at Stajan.

“Please accept our sincere condolences with my daughter on such a terrible death of your parent!” said the merchant and bowed his head.

“Thank you!” Stajan answered.

“How your father died such a terrible death ?!” horrified, exclaimed Maria. “Who are these vile people ?! How and when could this happen, when there are a lot of warriors of the order around?”

The golden-haired guy didn't answer. He plunged into painful memories and only looked with sadness at the tops of swaying pines.

“A week ago the sword-bearers came for tithes, but we had nothing to pay them with, so they burned half the village for edification. And they found a brace at Stajan's father and for this, they burned it together with the house. They considered him a sorcerer,” Vsevolod muttered quietly.

“How scary!” With tears welling up in her eyes, the confused Maria whispered. “But are the people of the order capable of doing such a thing? You are most likely wrong. It couldn't have been knights. They are noble! Someone disguised as the people of the order committed such a heinous atrocity!” She said and looked helplessly at her father.

The girl was expecting a refutation, but her father, without saying a word, only lowered his head, trying not to look Stajan in the eye. He considered what he had heard and decided how to buy off his saviors. Who knows what's on their minds now! Finally, he uttered:

“My daughter and I have traded something on the market today and we want to share our earnings with you. So we can do well to give you and your comrades for our salvation from robbers.”

Maria smiled at her father, glad that they could somehow help this handsome guy, who had suffered so cruelly at the behest of evil people. She looked at Stajan with a soft, sympathetic look. He, too, glanced with curiosity at the girl, who was looking forward to his answer. Then the young man turned to Father Mary and slowly but firmly said:

“No, thank you for your kind words, but we cannot accept anything from you. For the sake of self-interest, we saved you! My friends and I dream of raising money for a ship, and we will do it! But not at your expense! From now on, all the sword-bearers on our land are our sworn enemies, so we have the right to demand compensation from them for our suffering, and in the form that we consider fair for this! My father will be avenged in full!”

“You, of course, have the right to demand revenge for the monstrous death of your father,” Frederick began cautiously, “but you probably realized that my daughter and I are also Germans, like many people of the order. But we are Riga Germans, patriots of our city, and have nothing to do with the Hanseatic Germans, and even more so with the atrocities of the Livonian Order. We are trading people, and we do not need war and human misery. This greatly interferes with our business. We want to trade peacefully and with all people, regardless of which community or religion, they belong to.”

Stajan cast a glance at the hushed Maria, then looked at his friends who had suddenly become serious. Once again he looked into the eyes of the girl's father, who was now looking at him, impatiently waiting for them to be released.

“No, you are not our enemies, and therefore calmly go home,” said Stajan and, again looking into Maria's eyes, continued: “But I swear that one day I will knock on the door of your house when I am ready to take your daughter to my ship.

“I would like to believe you, Stajan, but your dream seems to me so ghostly that I am even afraid to think about it, so as not to inadvertently frighten her away. But I will pray for you and your dream, I will wait for you!”

The merchant's words exuded oil. Stajan, after a moment's hesitation, carefully took Maria's hand and looked attentively into her trusting green eyes. The girl did not attempt to free her hand from Stajan's strong palms, and her father silently watched as the young people eagerly peer at each other, as if trying to penetrate the innermost thoughts. Having seen everything in his life, Frederick, even though due to class differences, of course, he did not want his daughter such a choice, at that moment he did not say a word. He was sure that they met with Stajan and his company for the first and last time.