“I shall. But I doubt if he will listen to them. The Bishop of Krakow understands Polishness a little differently. He also sees the Germans and their empire a little differently. He can afford, forgive my bold words, seriously to doubt the honesty of German intentions. And has reason to do so.”

“What, then,” asked the bishop, sitting upright on a curule seat, “does Zbigniew want from me? Eh? Why the hell did he send you here, Lord Łodzia? Is he seeking help? Needs an ally? Against Witold, the pretender to the throne? Or perhaps against Svidrigiello, Jagiełło’s younger brother, who grows ever more insolent?”

“Is an alliance such an ill thing that you talk of it with such disdain?” said Andrzej of Bnin, smiling. “Particularly here, in Silesia? Wouldn’t an alliance have been useful to you a year ago, in 1428, when the Czechs reduced Silesia to ashes? Wouldn’t military aid have been useful to you then? Don’t you think that it may yet be useful when another Hussite plundering raid descends on you? For it is sure to; and if not today, then tomorrow. The Czechs will come and burn down what is left to burn and plunder what hasn’t been plundered. Who will stand against them? One Silesian duke killed, the rest intimidated. The knighthood demoralised. The allies are scattered, no money for mercenaries. Emperor Sigismund won’t come with relief. Think, O Bishop Konrad, Governor of Silesia. Wouldn’t help be useful at this moment of despair? Help, or rather… intervention?”

The Bishop of Wrocław said nothing for a long time.

“I understand,” he finally uttered in a slow, drawling voice. “I finally see what you are driving at. The conundrum is solved. Intervention. A Polish Army in Silesia. A crusade to Bohemia: no. But to Silesia: indeed. Over my dead body. Repeat that to Zbyszko, Lord Bnin. Over my dead body.”

Andrzej of Bnin said nothing and didn’t lower his gaze. Neither did Konrad.

“Polish fancies,” he finally said. “Polish fantasies about Silesia. Pro-Hussites, Anti-Hussites, Roman Catholics, Orthodox Catholics; you all dream about Silesia being Poland again. You want to incorporate Silesia into the Kingdom of Poland once more. You cannot understand that one can’t step into the same river twice. You disposed of Silesia yourselves, Silesia will never be Polish again. But you know that. Yet still you dream, weave fantasies. You’re just waiting to wrest Silesia from my grasp!”

“In the hope of gaining what?” asked Andrzej of Bnin, smiling quite contemptuously. “What remained after 1428? Your ruins? Twenty-five burned-down towns, hundreds of settlements in ashes, scorched fields that will be barren for decades? We mean to seize Silesia from you by force, you say? Why do we need force? The Silesian princes are vying with each other to come under Polish protection. First Bolko Wołoszek of Opole, followed by Cieszyn, Głogów, Oświęcim. And others will join after the next Hussite plundering raid. Perhaps all of them?”