Roland and Oliver, French Folklore

This story takes place in France over a thousand years ago when Charlemagne was king. At a high festival to celebrate his recent military victories, Charlemagne became angry with one of the most powerful barons in France, old Count Gerard. Outraged, Count Gerard renounced his loyalty to the king and declared he would no longer pay taxes. Knowing Charlemagne would likely attack his home, Count Gerard returned to his stronghold castle in Viana to fortify it and prepare for a long siege.

Indeed, King Charlemagne embarked on a great siege against Count Gerard's stronghold castle of Viana. The king vowed he would never leave until the proud Count Gerard was humbled in the dust before him. For nine weeks Charlemagne besieged the castle and allowed no one to come in or to go out. Yet so well supplied was the garrison with all food, drink, and comforts needed for life that they cared but little for the blockade.

Both the besiegers and the besieged took every opportunity to annoy one another. If Charlemagne's warriors dared approach too near the walls, they were driven back by a shower of arrows from crossbows. If the men of Viana ventured outside the gates or beyond the moat, a troop of Charlemagne's horsemen drove them back at the point of the lance.

Weeks passed. Still the wearisome siege continued. Some say that Charlemagne was encamped around Viana for seven months; others say it was seven years. In any event, during the siege the whole country for miles on every side was laid waste. What had once been blooming meadows, fields and gardens was now trodden into a desert. The vineyards were destroyed, the orchards cut down, the houses of the country folk burned and destroyed. Great indeed was the distress caused by this quarrel between the king and the count.

Yet both the king and Count Gerard remained steadfast. All winter long Charlemagne's men sat by their campfires and guarded the approaches to Viana. By spring, the woods began to brighten with greenish hues and flowers sprang up in the meadows and birds sang soft and sweet. Many knights thought of how their time was being wasted in this fruitless war against one of their own countrymen, and they longed to ride away in quest of other, more worthy adventures. The king tried hard to press the siege and to bring it to a speedy close, but in vain.

One day a party of strange knights rode into the camp and brought stirring news to the king. The king of Spain, they said, had crossed the Pyrenees and was carrying fire and sword and dire distress into southern France. Unless Charlemagne left quickly, the rich provinces of Aquitaine and Gascony could be lost!

The king was much troubled when he heard this news and he called his advisors together to ask their advice. All declared at once in favor of ending the siege of Viana, finding some sort of peace with Count Gerard, and marching without delay against the invaders. But Charlemagne could not abandon his vow.

"Which is better," cautiously said one duke, "to forsake a vow which may have been made too hastily, or to sit here helpless and surrender a precious part of our homeland to invaders?"

"It seems to me," said another duke, "that the present business might be brought to a close another way. Let two knights be chosen, one from each side, and let the combat between them decide the question between you and Count Gerard."

Charlemagne and his advisors were much pleased with this plan. A messenger with a truce flag was sent into the fortress to propose the plan to Count Gerard. On the other side, the men inside the castle of Viana were likewise arguing with one another how best to end the stalemate. They, too, were tired of fighting against the king, and knew that their food supplies and provisions would run out, indeed, they were already beginning to run low. So they very gladly agreed to the terms.

Charlemagne and his advisors selected Charlemagne's valiant nephew Roland to represent the side of the king. Count Gerard selected his grandson, the formidable Oliver, to represent his interests.

Early the following morning, King Charlemagne's nephew Roland was ferried over to an island in the river Rhône where Oliver was already waiting. The signal was given. The two knights put spurs to their steeds and dashed toward each other with the fury of tigers and the speed of the wind. The lances of both were shivered in pieces against the opposing shields, but neither was moved from his place in his saddle. Quickly they dismounted and drew their swords.

For more than two hours the two knights thrusted and parried, warding and striking, but neither gained an advantage over the other. At last, however, Oliver's sword broke after striking Roland's helmet with a too-hearty blow; his shield, too, was split from top to bottom. Left with no weapon to defend himself, Oliver made up his mind to die fighting, and he stood ready to fight with his fists. Roland was pleased to see such pluck.

"Friend," he said, "great is your pride, and I love you for it. I may be the nephew to the king of France and his champion today, but great shame would be upon me were I to slay an unarmed man. Choose for yourself another sword and a more trusty shield, and meet me again as my equal."

So Oliver bade his squires to bring him another sword from the castle, and Roland sat down upon the grass and rested. Three swords were sent over to Oliver, and the knight chose one. Roland rose from the grass and the fierce fight began again. Never were weapons wielded with greater skill. The sun rose high in the heavens, and still each knight stood firmly in his place, thrusting and parrying, striking and warding, and gaining no advantage over his foe. After a time, however, Roland struck his sword with such a force into Oliver's shield that he could not withdraw it.

Now it was Oliver's turn to face an unarmed enemy. "My worthy foe," said he, "it is not our fate for one of us to vanquish the other through the use of swords and shields. Let us decide this matter hand to hand." He threw his own sword and shield aside, and the two of them rushed together to seize each other and to throw one another down.

Moved by the same thought, each snatched the other's helmet and lifted it from his head. At that moment they stood there, bareheaded and face to face. Perhaps it was something they recognized in one another's eyes, perhaps a ray of light settled down between them, but at once they rushed into one another's arms.

Great was the wonder of King Charlemagne and his advisors, and equally great was the astonishment of Oliver's kinsmen, the Vianese of Count Gerard's castle. Knights and warriors from both sides of the river hastened to cross to the island. They were eager to know the meaning of conduct seemingly so unknightly. But when they came nearer they saw the men, who had fought each other so long and so valiantly, now standing hand in hand and pledging their faith as brothers-in-arms. And with one voice all joined in declaring that both were equally deserving of the victory.

Charlemagne's heart was touched by the spectacle. "Count Gerard of Viana," he cried, "all this trouble between you and me is ended and forgotten. If you have harmed me, I freely forgive you. No penny of taxes shall you pay for land or castle. I ask only that your pledge of loyalty be restored."

Then Count Gerard ungirt his sword from his side and uncovered his head, and knelt before the king. He placed both his hands between those of the king and said, "From this day forward I become your man of life and limb, and of all worldly reverence, and unto you I will be loyal and true. To no other lord will I grant obedience."

Then the king raised him gently from the ground and kissed him, and answered, "Count Gerard of Viana, I grant you the lands and the castle of Viana, to have and to hold without any payment of taxes, or any other service except that which is called for in an honorable war."

Then the other knights, in the order of their rank, came and knelt likewise before the king, and each in his turn promised his loyalty. And the king forgave each one all the wrong that he had ever done him, and gave back to each all the lands and all the honors that he had held before.

"And now," said King Charlemagne to Count Gerard, "I will sup with you tonight in your lordly castle of Viana."

Great was the wonder of the Viannese when they saw the king enter their halls, not as the prisoner but as the friend and guest of the count. And great, indeed, was the joy when it was known that peace had been made and that the wearisome siege was at an end. In the broad feast hall a rich banquet was spread, and the night was devoted to feasting, music and merrymaking. From the moment they refused to continue fighting each other, Roland and Oliver were inseparable.

Source: http://www.storiestogrowby.com/stories/roland_oliver_france.html

A Saam's Tale, Finnish Folktale

One day, in the land above the Arctic Circle where the Saams and the Lapps live, a young Saam youth named Sergevan ventured on a hunting trip. After three days his food supplies were nearly gone and no deer had been found. Having no better idea, when he noticed an overgrown path, he followed it.

The path led deep into the woods to a hut, and sitting on its front step was a very old woman.

She looked up. "Peur?" she said in a raspy voice as he approached.

"What?" said the young man. "That's the name of my great-great-great grandfather."

"You look just like him," said the old woman. "I was supposed to marry your great-great-great grandfather - oh, the memories of my Peur from so long ago!"

The old woman coughed and Sergevan offered her what was left of his food and drink. Since she had no teeth, she gnawed and sucked on his crust of bread and jam.

"Why didn't the two of you marry, if you don't mind my asking?" said Sergevan after awhile.

"I might as well tell you," said the old woman. "Always he took the other side! If I said it was raining, he said it was snowing. If I said it was hot in the tupa, he said it was cold. If I said to go right, he went left. Oh, Peur, Peur! - what a life we would have had if only you had listened to me at least some of the time!"

The old woman noticed Sergevan's hunting arrows and supplies and empty bag. "You must be far from home. You're welcome to stay here tonight. Have you had no luck hunting?"

"There's no deer anywhere!" said Sergevan. "I've looked and looked."

"There's plenty of deer," said the old woman. "You just need to know how to look. Your great-great-great grandfather used to lure the deer by singing. When he stole up to the deer, he'd come so that the wind blew at his back. Now, that's why your great-great-great-grandfather . . ."

In a flash, Sergevan grabbed his bows and arrows and bolted back into the tundra. By the end of that day he returned to the old woman's hut, empty-handed. He didn't want to be unkind to an old woman, but in his heart he felt angry she had given him wrong advice.

"I came back to tell you that your advice did not work," he said, grim-faced.

"You are just like your great-great-great-grandfather!" said the old woman. "He never listened to me either! Now if you had only let me finish what I was saying, I would have said that he'd come up to the deer with the wind at his back and that's why he . . . wasn't a good hunter! When the wind is at your back the deer catches a whiff of human scent and runs away. The wind must be blowing toward your face, so the human scent blows away from the deer. And singing only tells them that you're there - you must be absolutely silent."

"Ah!" said Sergevan. "I'll go back to the tundra now."

"Not now - not at night!" said the old woman. "Sleep here and leave at daybreak, that's the best time to go hunting."

When dawn broke, Sergevan headed back to the tundra. He silently crept up on a deer while the wind was blowing on his face and sent a single arrow flying. Later that day, he and the old woman feasted on his game.

"You are almost like family to me," Sergevan said. "Why don't you come live with my family?"

"I could have been your great-great-great grandmother," said she. "But you know, when they get old, all animals stay at their nest or cave. I will stay here."

"Then I will stay with you," said the youth.

And so Sergevan and the old woman lived for a number of happy years in her hut with plenty to eat and plenty to talk about.

Source: http://www.storiestogrowby.com/stories/saams_tale_finland.html

St. Olav's Church, Tallinn's Legend

 

Legend says that once upon a time the nobles of Tallinn decided to build the tallest church in the world, in hopes of luring more merchants to the city. But where to find a master builder capable of carrying out such a task? Suddenly, a large, quiet stranger appeared out of nowhere and promised to build the church, but the payment he asked was more than the city could pay. The man was willing to forego payment, on just one condition - the city people had to guess his name.

The stranger worked fast and talked to no one. The church was nearly finished and the city fathers grew more anxious by the day. Finally, they sent a spy to sniff out the stranger's name. The spy found the builder's home, where a woman was singing a lullaby to a child: "Sleep, my baby, sleep, Olev will come home soon, with gold enough to buy the moon." Now the city people had the man's name! They called out to the builder, who was attaching a cross on the top of the steeple, "Olev, Olev, the cross is crooked!" Upon hearing this, Olev lost his balance and fell all the way down. Legend tells of a frog and a snake that crawled out of Olev's mouth as he lay there on the ground. Building the enormous structure had required the help of dark powers. Yet the builder's name was given to the church, named after St. Olav.

An additional intriguing detail about St. Olav's comes from the Chronicles of Russow. In 1547, a group of acrobats visited Tallinn and tied a rope from the top of St. Olav's steeple to the city wall. They performed dizzying tightrope tricks, to the delight and dismay of the city folk.

Source: http://www.squidoo.com/tallinn-legends

Old Thomas, Tallinn's Favorite Guard

 Back in the days of yore, an archery contest was held each spring to see who could shoot a wooden parrot off the top of a high pole. It was a serious annual tradition, reserved exclusively for the men of noble families. One year, so the legend goes, none of the contestants was able to hit the target. A plucky boy called Thomas was in the crowd. He was from a poor family, but had learned archery from a young age. Urged on by his friends, he gave it a shot, hit the parrot, and immediately got into trouble. But instead of having his ears boxed as his mother expected, he was made an apprentice guard. Thomas eventually became an expert soldier, performing many heroic deeds during the Livonian War and serving with distinction to a rife old age. Years later locals noticed that Town Hall's weather vane, which is shaped like a soldier with a bushy moustache, looked a lot like their hero guard and started calling it Old Thomas in his honor. Nowadays Old Thomas, as legend and weather vane, is a much loved symbol of Tallinn.

 

Source: http://www.squidoo.com/tallinn-legends

The Black Madonna Painting of Czestochowa Story, Polish Legend

Czestochowa is a city in south Poland known for Pauline monastery of Jasna Gora. Every year many pilgrims from around the world travel to the monastery to see the famous painting of Black Madonna. The history of the painting is not clear. There are many legends surrounding it how it arrived there.

There are sources tracing the painting origin to St. Luke, one of the Four Evangelists. With his talented hand, he painted the image of Virgin Mary (Black Madonna) with a child on a cedar table top at which the Holy Family sat.

After the crucifixion of Jesus in Jerusalem, Christians were mistreated. They were questioned, imprisoned, or chased out of towns. It was a painful experience for Christians, who just lost their Savior and now were condemned for believing in him. Among the chaos that was surrounding the city; the house of St. Luke’s mother was spared a knock on the door, where the painting was hidden under the wooden floor.   

How the painting got uncovered from under the floor? It is not known. However, what is known is that two hundred years later, it was gifted to Empress Helena, who ruled over a huge kingdom called Byzantium. A devoted Christian, she was known for her dedication to the poor, wounded and ordinary worshippers. While making pilgrimage to Jerusalem, she received many gifts and among them was the painting of Black Madonna.
 

Through the following centuries the painting was passed on from one ruler to another. Constantine the Great received it from his mother, Empress Helena. Many centuries later, the icon was in the hands of another devoted Christian, Prince Lev. He brought it from Byzantium to Rus. (Today’s Belarus and Ukraine.) At his Belz Castle, the painting was decorated with a crown and presented to the people for worshipping. This way giving a start of adoring the Black Madonna.

After the death of Prince Lev, Polish King wanting to combine both lands, Rus and Polish, invaded the Belz Castle with the help of Duke Opolski. They succeeded after many days of ferocious fight, taking over the castle and the land.

Once inside the walls, the Duke rushed inside the castle to look for goods and chattels. Among many treasures, he saw something amazing.  His eyes rested on a painting. A serene peace surrounded him. He was staring at the face of Black Madonna. Deep in his thoughts, keeping his eyes on her face he whispered to the servants, “Take the painting to a bright room.”

With a special care, the servants carried the painting slowly to the next room. It was situated on a massive chair facing the window. Duke Opolski gazing at the image, which was brightened by the day light coming through the window, was astonished even more. It seemed as the time had stopped for him. He forgot about the troops awaiting him outside.

Not noticing a knight covered with heavy armor. He stood patiently in the door frame, until the squeak of the shield roused the Duke from his reflection. “Duke, we need your help with managing the troops.”

Without a word, Duke Opolski lifted his body from kneeling down in front of the icon. Passing by the knight, with his gaze gave him a sign to follow him. They trailed the narrow corridor up the stairs and upon reaching the walls surrounding the castle, he gave orders.

After the agreement of joining the lands together, it was time for the Polish army to go back home. Upon arrival in Poland, it seemed as the Duke couldn’t find the right room for the painting. The stone walls of the castle were not grand enough for the striking image. The red, plush covers were not majestic enough for the prominent icon.

He envisioned the painting being displayed at a place, where many people would come to worship it. After a longer thought, he invited Pauline monks to Poland promising to build a monastery for them. Why Pauline monks? They were a new Catholic religious order gaining popularity during that period.

The monastery was built in 1382 and enjoyed a peaceful time until 1430, when it was invaded by Hussites. They were Protestants having a different religious view than Catholics. They plundered through the monastery, taking many goods with them including the icon.

To their surprise, the heavy wagon with stolen possessions wouldn’t move. One of the Hussites trying to move the cart saw the icon at the very top not being concealed completely. “Throw it out of the cart,” he yelled to another Hussite standing by the wagon. He yanked it with a groan and threw it on the ground by the wheel. The angry Hussite on the cart drew his sword and with irritation stroke the icon three times, leaving two long scars and one short going across two scars on Black Madonna’s right cheek. Centuries later, there were many attempts to cover the scars without success. The scars remain and are clearly visible.

The holy painting remained at Jasna Gora. It seems as with its miraculous powers it chose its place. It was also credited with saving the monastery during a fire and during a Swedish invasion in the winter of 1655.

The church was spared during the fire like it was protected by an invisible wall. The raging flames took everything that stood in its way, but died down before reaching the church. Somehow the painting was left with darkened tone skin, giving her the name of Black Madonna.

Through the following centuries the popularity of the icon grew. More and more of the faithful people made the pilgrimage to Jasna Gora. Many of them were cured from its illnesses leaving tokens of gratefulness. Those tokens were in the forms of thank you plates or jewelry including pearls, precious stones, rosaries and others. They are still displayed in the church.

People touched by the Black Madonna’s miracles announced about the phenomena through the words. Their healed bodies were the visible and most tangible prove of miracles.

Many petitions were signed and sent to Vatican City for the coronation of Black Madonna. With the approval of Pope Clemens XI, the coronation took place on September 8, 1717. Both heads of the Black Madonna and the child were decorated with golden crowns.

The icon, marked with three scars, saved from the fire and invasions, is the symbol of remarkable powers, giving the name of ‘luminous’ to the mount on which the monastery stands. Jasna Gora meaning Luminous Mount.   

 

 

How Halina Saved Sandomierz from the Tatars - Polish Legend

The city of Sandomierz is located by the river Vistula on a picturesque hill surrounded by rich green grass. The city is very inviting. While approaching the city surrounded by the charming nature, it invites you to proceed inside it to the old town, which is full of colorful buildings. Centuries ago, the brick buildings replaced wooden structures, which were destroyed by Tatars. The city was invaded by Tatars three times in the 13^th century. This leads us to a legend of one brave citizen, who wanted to save the city.

 

“They’re approaching!” a horseman with a panic in his voice rushed around the town to warn the residents, “They’re approaching!” The people didn’t ask Who? As they already knew the answer. That’s the third time the Tatars were attacking their place within the same century. With each time, they tried to be prepared better as they knew the ruthlessness and cruelty of the enemy.

 

“We will take them by surprise,” the residents suggested at one of the sessions. The leader Krempa, creased with many lines on his face showing his age, slowly raised his hand as asking for attention, “And how are you proposing to surprise the enemy?”

 

“Attack them at night, before they approach our walls,” suggested one of the attendees standing in the back of the room. Murmurs spread through the room with many heads tilting forward as in agreement. So it was decided to attack at night.

 

When the darkness covered the sky and only the Tatar guards were trying to keep their eyes open, the locals attacked the enemy. The Tatars, even though asleep, raised quickly to the challenge. Both sides fought fearlessly. The locals were outnumbered by Tatars and at the end had to retreat back inside the walls.

 

Many were left behind as they lost their lives, among them was the leader Kempa. The citizens felt hopeless, there were not too many strong men left to continue the battle and there was no leader. At the council of the town, they agreed that they had to accept Tatars conditions, except Halina.

 

“The Tatars will not keep their word!” exclaimed Halina, the daughter of lost leader Kempa. “They are sneaky and revengeful. We need to fight with their weapon.” The elders didn’t like the girl’s outburst, but at the same time they felt sympathetic for the loss of her father. They calmly explained, “We do not want to act as Tatars.” However, the girl persisted, “Then I will act sneaky on my behalf to revenge my father. I just need you to do one thing for me.” After presenting her idea, the elders agreed still reluctantly.

 

The night was quiet, only the rustle of the leaves from the nearest trees was heard and the sorrow surrounding the walls of the village was felt. Halina quietly left the village. At the edge of the forest, she looked back for a while as trying to engrave the picture of the place in her memory.  

 

As soon as she entered the forest, she was surrounded by Tatars with arrows pointing at her. “What are you doing here girl?” asked one of the Tatars. “I need to see your leader.” The Tatars already suspecting something with a watchful eye took her to the leader.

 

At the fire in red coat sat the leader surrounded by guards. He was slowly sipping hot drink. He raised his eyes, when hearing approaching feet. Good at masking his surprise, he didn’t show it, when the girl in long green tunic and blond long hair showed in front of him.

 

“The girl asked to see you,” announced one of the Tatars. “What is the reason for you to be wandering the woods at night?” asked the leader. “I had to leave at night, so nobody would see me missing. I’m here, because I want to settle an old score with some people. There is a secret underground passage that will take you to the town. I can take you through the dark tunnel.” Halina spoke with convenience not leaving any trace of suspicion. He watched the girl very carefully, while she was talking. Now, the silence stood between them. He took his time to see if girl would give out any trace of deceit. “Settle the horses. We’re leaving now.”

 

It didn’t take long to arrive at a secret passage covered in thick thicket. It wasn’t easy to find it, but Halina had no problem identifying the entrance. They lighted the torches. The Tatar turned to the girl and commended, “Now lead us.”

 

When they were half way in the tunnel, the townsmen, who were hiding near the entrance, did what was agreed on. They blocked the entrance filling it with boulders.

 

The Tatars not suspecting anything yet eagerly followed the girl. When they got to a wall, which was blocking any farther walk, they were surprised looking for a solution. “This is a dungeon and it ends here,” announced the girl.

 

“You betrayed us girl! You know what that means for you?” yelled the leader. “I can die now knowing that I revenged the death of my father and that the town will be safe from you,” Halina calmly answered.

 

Halina died under Tatar’s sword, but she took all the Tatars with her. There was no way back for them from the dungeon.

The Two Swords - The Battle of Grunwald, Polish Legend

In the northern part of Poland, there is a small village called Grunwald. Outside it, in the green fields stands Monument of Grunwald Victory commemorating the most important victory in the history of Poland. Poland fought a battle with Teutonic Knights, which put the end to the rule of the Knights over Polish lands.

It all started in good faith. The Teutonic Knights’ purpose was to convert people to Christianity. In the 13^th century, they built a massive red brick castle in Malbork, helping them to strengthen their control over the surrounding area. But it simply wasn’t enough. They wanted to control more, throwing their weight about Polish lands and tormenting people.

The voices of poor folks were deep in sorrow. They echoed throughout the villages. Polish King Jagiello felt the sufferings of his people as his own. With determination, he picked a date of July 15^th, 1410 to face the Teutonic Knights at the field of Grunwald and end the pain of his people.

Standing in the open field, both armies were facing each other. The summer was hot with sunrays reflecting in the shiny armor of the Knights. The colorful flags fluttered by delicate breeze. The heat and the heavy armor were making the Knights anxious to start the battle. Over the nearby forest, frightened birds made circles as feeling that something was about to happen.

King Jagiello was eagerly praying, taking his time. On the other side of the field, the Knights’ leader, Ulrych, was getting inpatient.

He called for an envoy demanding, “Take two swords to King Jagiello. So he has something to fight with,” standing nearby Teutonic Knights burst out laughing.

Trotting slowly towards the King Jagiello, the Knights stopped facing the King. With raised two swords high above their heads, they swiftly plunged them into the ground. “We were sent to deliver these two swords in case you were missing your own arms.”

The King noticed contemptuous smile on the Knights’ faces. Unmoved, he thanked them. “No, we do not miss arms.”

As soon as they left, Gniewko soon to be a knight approached the King. “Please, my King, allow me to use one of the swords and take part in the battle.

Gniewko was Jagiello’s favorite squire. He knew the boy’s family, who died from the hands of Teutonic Knights. The boy was like his own son and he felt the need to protect him. “Not this time. Soon you will be a knight and ready to help me in the next fight.”

The boy loved the king dearly, who watched over him for many years, hiring the best tutors to teach him knightly skills. Gniewko felt in his heart that this was the right time and keenly wanted to show his gratefulness, insisting, “Please King, allow me. I know I am ready.”

With the love in his eyes and clam but determine voice Jagiello said, “I have fought many battles and I want you to trust me that this is not the right first battle for you. What I want you to do instead is watch over those two swords until I come back from the battle.”

Tilting his head in obedience, the boy stood proudly by two swords, while the king moved to the battle field.

The rumble of the armor aroused announcing the start of the battle. It was long and straining, the winning kept switching from one side to another. The heat and fatigue were weighing heavily on both sides. Many were wounded and many had to return to the camp for their wounds to be tended.

Many Polish Knights either died or were wounded. The lack of them on the field had to be filled with peasantry eager to help to get rid from the oppression they received from the Teutonic Knights.

With heavy batons and axes in their hands, they fought willingly for every inch of Polish land that was taken away from them. They didn’t worry about their own lives. They wanted freedom for their families.

As the bottle continued, one young Teutonic Knight who was wounded dragged his feet towards the two swords. “I have to reclaim the swords,” he kept repeating as he just recently witnessed the death of his leader Ulrych.

He didn’t know that the swords were under watchful eyes of Gniewko, who seeing the approaching Knight from the enemy’s side moved quickly by attacking the Knight. The fight was quick. The already wounded Knight lay motionless on the ground. Wounded Gniewko with the remaining strength was still protecting the swords. He already lost the conscious, when the battle reached its end.

The victorious King Jagiello rushed to the boy to give him the good news. The air was thick with the dust. The sun was setting down giving the tired men a break after ferocious battle filled with heat and dust.

While approaching the camp with a clearer view in front of him, he saw the boy motionless on the ground. Jagiello bent down on his knees with the boys in his arms, tears ran down his face.

Suddenly, where the ends of the swords cut the ground, a small stream came out meandering towards the boy. The King quickly pulled the cover from his short knife and filled with the water. With pain, the boy swallowed a few drops of water.

To the surprise of Jagiello and Gniewko, the boy’s wounds disappeared and he raised his own body without any help. The King called for medics, “Fetch the water for wounded soldiers and peasants.”

Before the medics arrived with vessels, the stream disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Gniewko looked for any traces of the water, but it was hopeless. The stream was gone. Many looked for it afterwards, digging deep into the ground. But the only trace that was left was the uneven ground without green grass.

The Knights and Gniewko with the King returned to Wawel in Krakow, where they celebrated the victory. Gniewko was knighted and received a sword from the King.

Later, he took part in many battles serving King Jagiello.

Malbork Castle