“And now he’ll get even with Jutta.”

“He won’t. And for a while he’ll be too afraid to pester you.”

“Who are you?”

“Not so fast, not so fast.” There was a note of scorn in her thrillingly modulated voice. “I’m a decent girl, I have my principles. Coitus on the third tryst at the earliest; sharing confidences, thoughts, confessions and other intimacies on the fourth or even later. So piano, my boy, piano. It’s enough for you to know I’m on your side.”

“You saved my skin in Wrocław—”

“I just said—I’m on your side. I’m taking care nothing bad happens to you. As part of that I want to help you recover your beloved. To that end, I suggest a meeting in Strzegom.”

“When?”

“On the third day of the month of Tammuz. In Church Street, near the school and the Knights Hospitaller commandery. Since I’m not certain how you will calculate the date, I shall stop by there for the next three days. If you really want to save your betrothed, be on time.”

“Why Strzegom, exactly?”

“It’s a town that’s dear to me.”

“Why are you helping me?”

“I have a vested interest.”

“What is it?”

“For today it is this,” said the rosemary-scented alto voice. “An old friend of yours will soon ask you for advice. He faces a decision, is hesitant. Make sure he stops hesitating. Confirm in him his belief that his initial thought was right and that he’s acting correctly.”

“I don’t understand.”

“But you will. Farewell, return to your companions. Well, what are you waiting for?”

“Just tell me one thing—”

“Reynevan!”

“—are you a human being? A normal… hmm… human woman?”

“Opinions are divided on that subject,” she replied with a mocking giggle. “And vary.”

They left Racibórz the following day—which was Great Friday—early, on a grey morning. Plied with questions about the destination and route of their journey, Bedřich hinted something about the Krakow road leading eastwards, but no one was surprised when, after keeping the bridge over the Odra on their right side, they headed northwards along the left bank, and when they soon reached a crossroads, instead of taking the main road to Nysa, Bedřich, without saying a word, took the road less travelled. Which led towards Koźle.

Reynevan hadn’t told his companions anything about the previous evening’s events. The preacher urged them on, so they rode quickly, and the town’s spires and towers came into view before sunset. Reynevan had already guessed what town it would be. And when, rather than going into Koźle, they turned hard towards the west, into forest, he knew where they were heading and to meet whom. Any doubts were dispelled by the sight of a party of knights riding out towards them. He knew them, remembered their names and arms. Prawdzic. Nieczuja. And leading them…

“God keep you!” Krzych of Kościelec, of the Ogończyk coat of arms, greeted them. “God keep you, m’lords. I’m glad to see you, m’Lord Reynevan. Welcome to Głogówek. Let us make haste. Duke Bolko is expecting you. He waits impatiently, gentlemen.”