And then the Mongols turned upon them, as was their wont, and poured a perfect storm of arrows upon the defenceless troopers. Ugrin and four others managed to dismount and cast away their heavy armour; and, with only their battle-axes in their hands, they succeeded at last by superhuman efforts in wading through the marsh, and so reached Pest, pursued by the Mongols, and leaving corpses to mark their track all the way, almost to the gate.
The people were aghast at the intelligence, and they set to work to blame the King!
He was blamed by Ugrin in the first place—Ugrin, who had nothing but his own madness to thank for the disaster! He was blamed by the mob, who were ready to see treachery everywhere; and above all, he was blamed by Duke Friedrich, surnamed the "Streitbare," for his valour!
The King bore all, and worked on. All night he was on horseback, seeing to the fortifications, urging the workmen to redoubled vigour.
And while he was thus engaged, what was going on in the army?
It is hardly credible, but is nevertheless a fact, that blind self-confidence, whether real or feigned, held possession of the camp. The troops and their leaders spent the night for the most part in revelry, while the sentries on the walls mocked at such of the Mongols as came near enough and let fly their arrows at them.
Early in the morning Duke Friedrich was on horseback, after a previous argument with the King, in which he had made light of the invasion, and called it mere child's play, easily dealt with, and then he led the small body of men he had brought with him out of the city. A small body it was, to Béla's bitter disappointment. He had expected something like an army, and the Duke had brought about as many men in his train as he would have done if he had come to a hunting party!
Such as they were, he led them forth on this eventful morning to have a brush with the Mongols, whose advance guard retired, according to custom, as soon as they caught sight of the well-armed, well-mounted, well-trained band. The Duke was cautious. He meant to do something, if only to show Pest how easy it was; and when he presently returned with a couple of horses and one prisoner, he had his reward in the acclamations with which the populace received him. The success of the valorous Duke was belauded on all sides, and some compared the daring warrior with the prudent King, not to the advantage of the latter.
The prisoner was taken before the King, and, as ill-luck would have it, he proved to be a Kun; worse still, he said among other things, that there were many Kunok in Batu's camp.
They had been forced to join him; but the news spread through the town, exciting the people more than ever, and it was openly asserted by many that the Kunok were in league with the Mongols, and that Kuthen was a traitor, who had managed to ingratiate himself with King Béla only that he might prepare the way for the enemy.