Before beginning, the herald once again waited for quiet.

“Let it also be known to all and sundry that to strengthen the alliance with the Tábor we hereby receive Holy Communion in the way of Christ, that is under both means, sub utraque specie, not compelling any of our subjects to such a Communion and guaranteeing freedom of religious expression. We also swear to uphold the Four Articles, which have been declared and accepted by free men in the Kingdom of Bohemia.”

The herald stepped aside. Wołoszek took a step forward; the seneschal and the abbot remained at the back. Bedřich of Strážnice, unrecognisable in a black cassock girded with a leather belt, stepped out of the entourage. The Hussite preacher was holding a paten and a beautifully engraved gold chalice. Wołoszek raised his right arm.

“I vow that in this duchy given to me freely by God, the Word of God will be preached safely and without hindrance. I vow that the Body and Blood of Christ the Lord will be given to the faithful under both forms of bread and wine according to the rules of the Bible and the teachings of the Saviour. That papist priests will have their secular power over wealth and worldly goods confiscated and their worldly goods and wealth will be taken from them, since it hampers them in living, believing and teaching as Christ and his apostles did. And because all mortal sins and blatant offences against Divine Law will be punished. So help me, God and the Holy Cross.”

On finishing, the duke knelt down. Bedřich approached, gave the duke the paten and the Host and after it the chalice with wine. Then he lifted up both vessels with both hands.

“Fiat voluntas Tua!”

“Amen!” answered the congregation.

Wołoszek rose to his feet, his armour grating.

“It is done at last,” he said and turned towards the men standing closest. “Let’s go and have something to eat. And drink.”

The banquet took place in the refectory of the Franciscan monastery. The walls were covered by a spider’s web of cracks and the interior still stank of burning, but the monks insisted on receiving the duke. Everybody knew why. Converted to the Chalice and the Czech faith, Wołoszek wasn’t concealing his aim of driving the priests, prelates and collegiate canons from Głogówek. The Friars Minor hoped he would let them stay.

The Franciscan cooks had tried their best to outdo one another in their culinary excellence. On the table there were four splendid, enormous roast wild boars, each one stuffed with pork and sausage. Four red deer. Eight roe deer, twelve piglets, twelve blackcocks, an immense quantity of ham, smoked meats, blood pudding and cured goose breasts. This feast was completed by an array of poppy-seed cake and gingerbread. The centre of the table was taken up by an entire roast ox with gilded horns, decorated with inscriptions formed from pork rind. One proclaimed: O IESU, SPECULUM CLARITATIS AETERNAE. The other was extremely sycophantic: DEIGRATIA DUX BOLKO HUIUS LOCI BENEFACTOR.