"What is the use of assigning them positions? Let them march in a solid column so that the enemy will be frightened to death at the mere sight of them."

"Quite right. However, I do not wish to frighten them away but to surround them. One half of the army I will draw up against them, and the other I will arrange as follows: one division shall steal through the grain fields and cut off the enemy's retreat in the direction of this city; another shall fall on his flank just above the millstream; and the third shall be stationed as rear guard. Your Majesty with his court shall join the rear guard."

"What," said Kemeny, roused at last, "I in the rear guard! Hungarian Princes are in the habit of going first in battle."

"That was well enough in former times, but in a combined assault, so precious a life that must always be looked out for is only in the general's way, and has a disturbing effect on the movements of the troops. But if it is your Majesty's express wish, then I give over the command to you and take my place in the rank and file. Let your Majesty take the command. Here only one can be general."

"Stay at your post and arrange matters as you will, only let me choose my position as I wish, and it shall not interfere with yours."

And Kemeny staid at table with a few of the men. Wenzinger had hardly time to make the necessary arrangements when word was brought the Prince that the army was in line of battle. Kemeny rose calmly from his place, girded on his sword, but forbade them to put on his coat of mail.

"What for," he cried, "is the heart beneath any bolder?"

Then he had his finest horse led forward, which tossed his head so fiercely that two men could hardly hold his bridle. The spirited black beast reared and plunged; his nostrils steamed, the white foam flecked his breast and his long waving tail reached almost to the ground.

Kemeny swung himself into his saddle, drew his sword and galloped to the head of the army. Everybody was astonished at the fine rider. He adapted his movements to the horse as if they were one creature. When the high-spirited horse reached the front he began to slacken his pace, struck his hoofs on the ground and seemed to salute the army with his head.

The men broke out into a loud huzza. At this moment the Prince's horse stumbled and fell forward, breaking the silver bit in his mouth; only the greatest skill and presence of mind saved the Prince from plunging over his horse's head. His attendants crowded about him.

"That's a bad sign, your Majesty," stammered Alexis Bethlen. "Let your Majesty mount another horse."

"No, it is not a bad sign," replied Kemeny, "for I staid in my saddle."

"However it would be well if your Majesty would not ride this horse.

He will keep stumbling now that he has been frightened."

"I intend to stay on this horse just to show that I do not give in to omens and am not afraid of them," replied Kemeny, defiantly, and ordered the bridle with broken bit to be taken away and another brought. Just then Kutschuk's trumpeter sounded for the attack.

The Turkish horsemen were drawn up in the form of a crescent with the ends turned backward, and in the centre rode Kutschuk Pasha. The Turkish general on this occasion wore a costume of unusual splendor.

His caftan was of heavy silk embroidered in flowers of gold; under this a dolman woven in threads of gold, and around his waist a costly Oriental shawl; his sword was studded with precious stones; in his turban was the entire wing of a gerfalcon, with a diamond clasp. He rode a fiery Arab steed with slender neck, long braided mane and flowing black tail. The proud creature tossed his head and shook the fringed housings; there was a kind of gold net over his body with leather knots at the ends from which hung large golden crescents hitting against each other. As soon as Kutschuk Pasha came in sight of the princely troops of Kemeny, he prostrated himself on the ground and kissed the earth three times, raised himself as many times to his knees, lifted his hands and devout face to heaven and cried "Allah, Allah!" Then he mounted his horse again, ordered his son called to him, tore a falcon feather from his turban, and said as he stuck it in the boy's cap, "Now go to the left wing of the enemy and try to fight bravely, for it is better that you should fall by the enemy's hand and I should see you dead than that you should flee and be obliged to fall a sacrifice to my sword."

With these words he put his hand on the weapon at his side. Feriz Bey bowed with an expression of the deepest homage, kissed his father's robe and galloped proudly to his appointed post. He seemed to know that all eyes were now directed to those falcon feathers that his father had placed in his turban. The Pasha then rode along the front of his host and spoke to his men:

"Brave comrades, now you see the enemy with your own eyes. I will not say whether their numbers are great or small, for you can see for yourselves. They are many more than we, but trust in Allah and fight bravely; it is more honorable to fall here sword in hand, than to disgrace numbers by flight. We are in the middle of Transylvania; whoever runs away will be hunted down by pursuers before he can get to the borders, but even if any one should escape the Sultan will have him killed. We have no choice but victory or death."

Then he turned to the Wallachians and addressed them in hard, angry tones:

"Well do I know, you dogs, that you are ready to ride off at the first shot, but I have given orders to the troops stationed on the outside to shoot down any one of you who so much as looks backward."

Then the Pasha took his place at the head of the host and with unsheathed sword gave the sign to the trumpeter. As he once more surveyed the troops he noticed that the Moors in their metal caps stationed behind him had reached for their guns and made ready to aim.

"What do you mean!" growled the Pasha. "Down with your muskets! The enemy has more of them. Nothing but swords now! Let every man ride boldly against the enemy and when I give the sign, bend low on his horse and gallop forward without trembling."

The army obeyed the command. The Moors slung their weapons on their shoulders, drew their broad swords and marched forward following the Pasha. Kemeny's troops stood before them like a wall of steel. In the first line the musketeers and behind them the infantry. In the centre was Wenzinger and on the right wing John Kemeny. The troops on the flanks marched stealthily behind the mill and the grain fields to attack the rear. When the Turks were almost within shot of Kemeny's army Kutschuk Pasha turned round and cast commanding glances at his soldiers right and left, at which they instantly dropped their heads on their horses' necks, swung their swords forward, struck spurs into their horses' flanks and rode madly into the lines of the enemy.

"Allah! Allah! Allah!" rang out three times from the lips of the assailing Turks. At the third shout there came a tremendous report.

Kemeny's musketeers had at that moment fired in line at the assailing horsemen and their ranks were for the instant enveloped in smoke.

Generally speaking such firing does little harm in war, causing more noise than destruction. In this case only two Turks fell with their horses, the rest galloped forward under the hot firing. Wenzinger saw that his artillery had no time to load again and gave command for the infantry to advance. If these troops could have stood their ground against the attack of the horsemen until the artillery could load again, or until the flank troops could have fallen on the Turks in the rear, Kemeny would have won the battle, but the ranks of the infantry were broken through at the first onset, and after a desperate engagement largely mown down. Thereupon the defenseless musketeers fled in great numbers and by their cries threw the rest of the army into the utmost confusion. Wenzinger tried to restore order at once by giving command for a retreat along the whole line, and had this been carried out the engagement might have taken another turn. But the horseguards who were under the command of the Prince, by Kemeny's orders stood where they were; the rest of the troops changed their position and continued to fight with those opposite them. The Pasha suddenly turned from the pursuit of the musketeers in their mad flight and fell upon Kemeny with his entire force. The latter, attacked in front and on the side at the same time, lost his wits, and as there was neither time nor space for an orderly retreat, plunged frantically along the first way that opened. Naturally he did not notice in such a flight that he was riding down his own infantry, then in retreat, since the horseguards who had charged in disorderly assault at the rank still in line, and trampled down their own troops, had prevented the use of the reserves; so the whole army was brought into confusion and disorder.

The infantry threw down their weapons and fled, pursued by the horsemen of both armies; any still remaining in line were trampled to death by the horsemen. Neither the genius of the leader nor the self-sacrifice of a few brave men availed to restore order. The wild flight in one part threw the rest into confusion. The battle was completely lost. In the general panic that reigned the Prince too fled. As he had been in the front ranks of the battle he was now at the rear, and could with difficulty escape his pursuers in such a tumult. The Turks pursued closely and knocked down all within reach.

Close on the track of the Prince followed a young Turk, and as his horse carried a much lighter weight he soon overtook the Prince. By the falcon's feather waving in his turban could be recognized Feriz Bey, son of Kutschuk Pasha. His features were ablaze with a youthful glow, those of the Prince were dark with rage and shame. During the flight he often looked back and gnashed his teeth. "To flee from a child is a disgrace," he cried out in his anger. Several times he tried to stop but his maddened horse swept him along. Meantime the youth had come so near that he began to show his sword. At first the Prince did not consider the strokes of the boy worthy his attention, but as the latter coming nearer grew bolder and bolder, the Prince drew his sword and returned the blows.

"Don't come any nearer, you bastard," shouted Kemeny, furiously, "or I'll deal you a blow that will knock your very breath out."

By this time Feriz with a bound of his horse reached the side of the Prince and aimed a Damascus blade at his neck, while Kemeny leaning back, drew his sword for a fearful blow. The two swords were whizzing through the air, when Kemeny's horse stumbled again and fell with a broken leg. This gave his blow another direction, and instead of hitting Feriz as he had intended, he struck the head of his own horse and cleft it in twain just as the young Turk's sword gleamed against Kemeny's forehead. The Prince, falling from his horse looked darkly at his foe: the blood was streaming from his forehead. Once more he struck his spurs into his horse and the poor creature struggled to his hind feet, only to fall backward with his rider still clinging to him, and rider and horse were trampled under the feet of the pursuing enemy. During the wild conflict nobody paid any attention to the spot where the Prince had fallen.

Several days later in the Schassburg market-place his torn coat and broken weapon, found and offered for sale by some Turkish freebooters, were bought by Michael Apafi and laid away for safe-keeping in the treasury at Fogaras. Apafi ordered a careful search for the body of the fallen Prince, that he might bury it with due honors, but nobody could distinguish the Prince's corpse among the stripped and mutilated.

When the battle was won Kutschuk Pasha ordered the trumpet sounded to call back his men from the pursuit of the conquered foe. At the sound of the retreat the Turkish horsemen came bounding back man for man, in marked contrast to the usual custom of Turkish armies, who are as disorderly after victory as their vanquished foes. Kutschuk had accustomed them to stern discipline. The men returned blackened with smoke and covered with blood, but none more so than Feriz Bey; in his coat were the holes made by many balls and he rode his third horse since the beginning of the conflict; two had been shot under him.

Kutschuk embraced his son without a word, kissed his brow, fastened his own Order of Nischan on his breast and exchanged swords with him, a mark of the highest honor among the Turks of those times.

Ferhad Aga, the leader of the right wing, was brought in dead. He had received all kinds of wounds and was completely covered with shots, spear-thrusts, and sabre-cuts. Kutschuk sprang from his horse, fell weeping upon the corpse, covered it with kisses and swore by Allah that he would not have given this man's life for all Transylvania. He did not go into town until Ferhad had been buried. The dervishes surrounded the body at once, washed it, wrapped it in fragrant linen, and the Pasha himself selected a sunny spot under the trees. There the dead man was laid with his face toward the East, a spear with waving pennant was planted above the grave, and a guard of men set for three days to keep off the witchlike Djinns from the body of the fallen one.

CHAPTER VII

THE PRINCESS

After the battle of Nagy-Szollos John Kemeny's faithful followers fled to Hungary and transferred their allegiance from the fallen one to his son Simon Kemeny. But his sinking fortunes had few friends, and while the faction of the younger Kemeny grew daily less, Apafi's gained from day to day. By his triumph he won over the best and most distinguished of the town, the judges, nobility, commanders of the fortresses, in short everybody hurried to do him homage. The State in a body recognized him as Prince. Only a few places where Kemeny had left German garrisons, still resisted, among these Klausenburg. Kutschuk Pasha brought Apafi with a strong force under the walls of this town.

He had a tent pitched for him in sight of the old town in Hidele. At that time it was a place of thatched huts, and there the new Prince received deputations. By early dawn Apafi was fairly besieged by the hosts of visitors and place-seekers. At first the newly-chosen Prince, carried away by the novelty of his agreeable position, was able to fulfil the wishes of everybody and refused hardly a request. As soon as Nalaczy and Daczo learned that he had his boots on, they were with him and announced great crowds of people outside the tent eager for entrance. Apafi made haste to dress that no one need wait. He could hardly expect to satisfy everybody. Among the throng was Ladislaus Csaki; he came to offer the Prince as page the same son who had filled Kemeny's glass a few weeks before. Apafi could hardly express his pleasure at this offer. Then came Gabriel Haller who bowed countless times and in the name of his two companions made an elaborate speech to Apafi. Apafi could scarcely conceal his childish pleasure in being called Excellency, a title used in Transylvania only for great princes. He invited Gabriel Haller at once to dine with him. At the back of the tent a raised seat had been placed, which the modest Prince positively would not accept until his brother Stephen had forcibly set him there. He received everybody standing and accompanied each one to the door when he went. Then they came singly to present themselves, make requests of the Prince, or swear allegiance.

At the Prince's side stood Nalaczy, Daroczy, Stephen Apafi and John Cserei, who repeatedly urged the Prince to sit down. The oaths of allegiance were received, the commanders of the citadels laid their keys in the Prince's hand and then followed visits.

First came Martin Pok, the jailer at Fogara, with the humble request that he should be made captain of this stronghold instead of the foreign incumbent who had fled with Simon Kemeny. Apafi promised to remember him. John Szasz came next, supreme judge in Hermanstadt, to make complaint that his fellow citizens had persecuted him and beg the Prince for help. Apafi took him under his protection. Then followed Moses Zagoni who begged that the Prince would most graciously set him free from certain taxes imposed by Kemeny and still in arrears. He too went away comforted by Apafi.

Last of all came before the Prince, a Szekler of the mountains, in short peasant coat and jacket of fur, who, he said, came sent from Olahfalu to bring Apafi the oath of allegiance in the name of his people, and to make his strange requests: first, that Olahfalu should be permitted to be only two miles distant from Klausenburg (the actual distance between the two places was more than twenty); secondly, that there should be a law enacted that if a man had not a horse he should go on foot.

The Prince received these strange requests with laughter. They seemed to put him in extremely good spirits and the young student, Clement, sought to take advantage of this. He was a crooked-nosed, high-cheeked youth, wrapped to the chin in a foxskin, who knelt before Apafi and handed him a roll of parchment that with the aid of his friends Apafi took and unrolled. Within, he found a green leaved tree showing the complete genealogy of his family. In this document he was connected with the Bethlens and Bathorys, taken back to King Aba and on the way connected with Huba, one of the seven leaders of the Magyars. But the good man did not rest even here; the lineage extended even to Csaba, youngest son of Attila. On the mother's side it went still further to the daughter of the Emperor Porphyrogeneta, and on the father's side to Nimrod the first king on earth. This flattery seemed to annoy Apafi somewhat, but he had not sufficient decision to order the flatterer out of the tent. He rolled up the genealogy, put it behind him and undertook to satisfy the impertinent poet with a few ducats. But that did not disturb the Prince's good-humor in the very least. It seemed as if he must express especial thanks to each man for approaching him, and show him the obligation that he felt; and after he had received and listened to the various suppliants, as if this were all too little, he turned to Nalaczy and Daczo with the question, "Is there nothing that I can do for you? What reward shall I make you for the fidelity with which you have stood by me from the first?"

Nalaczy and Daczo had for some time been puzzling their minds as to what request they might make that should not be too small.

"I leave the reward of my trifling services to the generosity of your Excellency," said Nalaczy, thinking that without doubt the Szeklers would now receive a new captain instead of Beldi.

"The little that I have done for your Excellency does not now deserve mention," said Daczo, but it occurred to him that the position of Captain of the train bands at Klausenburg, left vacant by Banfy's flight, would be an appropriate one.

Apafi was well-disposed toward them and perhaps might have made these excellent but useless people his privy counsellors, but to their great misfortune, at that very moment there was a tumult at the entrance to the tent. When the guard drew back the curtain Kutschuk Pasha entered.

The Prince sprang from his seat and would have hurried to him, but his brother Stephen pulled his coat and whispered in his ear:--

"Maintain your dignity in the presence of the Turk; he is only a subordinate Pasha while you are Prince of Transylvania."

In spite of the warning Apafi was not satisfied until Kutschuk made him a sign to be seated, and although the Turk remained standing before the Prince, the impression on the bystanders was that Apafi appeared amiable and grateful and Kutschuk haughty and dignified.

"How can I thank you for your exertions in my behalf?" Apafi asked the Pasha, with true feeling.