“An idea,” Mikołaj Siestrzeniec cut in, “which may turn out to be extremely beneficial for you Czechs. Not only does King Jagiełło disobey the Pope and will not join the crusade against Bohemia, but he means to form an alliance with you. Lutsk enraged him and he is itching to thwart Sigismund and give him a taste of his own medicine. He plans, I happen to know, to attack the Teutonic Knights along with you. Ha, upon my soul! An alliance of Lech and Czech, brother Slavs, fighting shoulder to shoulder against the enemy tribe of Teutons. Do you think of taking your wagons to Pomerania, Hejtman? To the Baltic? To Danzig?”

“We could leave today!” said Dobko Puchała, laughing. Jan Pardus rubbed his hands and grinned. Prokop quietened them with a look.

“The Baltic is far away,” he said dryly. “It’s a long journey by wagon. And what’s more, through a hostile country governed by infernal priests. Who in Poland would give us a hunk of bread, feed and water our horses, when that is punishable by excommunication, infamy or the stake? I’m grateful to you, Burgrave, for informing me of the Polish king’s plans. For I think: does Jagiełło have enough strength to carry out those ideas in spite of the priests? Does he have enough time? Before God calls him to Him? Forget Baltic and Danzig, noble Poles. Let’s talk about geography closer to home.”

“Indeed,” said Piotr Szafraniec, nodding. “Much closer, even? Quite literally just over the border? It’s true that the union with Lithuania is at risk, and if Jagiełło doesn’t act it might mean the end of it. Perhaps, then, we should think about a new union, while there’s still time. For we are Slavic folk, emerged from common roots.”

“Do I hear right? Are you suggesting a union? Of Poland and Bohemia?”

“What surprises you so? You yourself offered King Jagiełło the Czech crown. Several times.”

“And he declined it each time. We understood his reasons, naturally. But the Czechs won’t accept a king who doesn’t accept the Four Articles of Prague or guarantee freedom of worship.”