“Because the bolt had an iron tip and Hvězda already had Perferro in his blood,” agreed Reynevan. “And soon after, in November, Bohuslav of Švamberk, Hvězda’s successor, died from what appeared to be an equally harmless cut. Yes, Horn, I had my suspicions earlier that Hvězda and Švamberk were killed with the help of black magic, and after hearing what Smiřický confessed to me, I grew certain. But so treacherously—”

“Expertly,” Urban Horn corrected him. “A brilliant idea, expert execution and knowledge… And on the subject of knowledge… Reynevan?”

“What?”

“Come, come. Don’t play dumb. Is there an antidote?”

“Not as far as I know. If Perferro is already in your bloodstream, it can’t be flushed out.”

“You said ‘not as far as you know.’ But perhaps there’s something you don’t know.”

Reynevan didn’t answer at once. He was thinking. He didn’t intend to reveal it to Horn, but during his time with the Prague mages from the House at the Archangel apothecary’s shop, he had taken medicines against poison, including ones that gave full immunity against toxins. He wasn’t sure whether they also worked with Perferro. Or whether he was still immune to anything at all, since he hadn’t taken the medicines for over a year.

“Well,” Horn urged him. “Is there an antidote or not?”

“I can’t rule out the possibility. After all, progress is being made all the time.”

“Our only hope is progress,” said Horn, biting his lip. “At least in this field.”

Sovinec Castle had stood on a rocky outcrop of the Nízký Jeseník for a century; for a hundred years its proud and threatening bergfried had towered over the forest and frightened the local population. Two brothers, knights of the old Moravian Hrutovic family—given by the Bishop of Olomouc a fiefdom in the form of the villages Křížov and Huzová for their wartime service—built it and converted it into their family stronghold. From then on, the brothers started calling themselves the “Lords of Huzová” and used a bended shield as a coat of arms.

Having built a castle almost a mile from Huzová, they christened it “Sovinec” from the Czech word for “owl,” great numbers of which nested in the neighbouring forests. And from then on began signing themselves the “Lords of Aylburk.” The German name, in spite of fashion, never caught on, however, and the burg remained “Sovinec” for ever.

The castle’s current owner and lord was a knight—Pavel of Sovinec—a supporter of the teachings of Huss and an ally of the Tábor. Where he was dwelling at the time of our story, in March 1429, is unknown. Now Urban Horn governed Sovinec and his vassals reigned supreme over the surrounding area.