“Naturally, you are,” said Prokop, twitching his moustache. “Now that Svidrigiello is taking action and is being supported by the Ruthenian Orthodox Church as well as the Teutonic Knights. The Orthodox Ruthenia, then, will perhaps receive a handful of privileges, as long as it doesn’t support Svidrigiello. While it is needed, it will be gulled by tolerance. But later whatever Rome orders will be done to it.”

“Roma est caput et magistra for all Christians who believe in God,” said Władysław of Oporów. “The Holy Father in Rome is Saint Peter’s representative, whether you like it or not. One may not enter into an open conflict—”

“One may,” said Prokop, interrupting him. “One may indeed. Enough of this, Father. If I’d wanted to listen to this I’d have gone to Krakow, where you’d have tried to convert me. Then, Oleśnicki would forbid worship in the city and threaten everyone with an interdict. But we aren’t in Krakow, we’re in Odry. Which means I am the host and you are my guests. With a mission whose aims I still don’t know, although we have wasted plenty of time.”

Silence fell for a while. It was interrupted by Piotr Szafraniec, who coughed several times before speaking.

“We won’t waste your time then, M’Lord Prokop. We didn’t come here to convert you. Nor to persuade you to join a union of Bohemia with Poland, for although I consider such a union a good thing, perhaps it’s too early to talk about it. For Poland cannot afford a conflict with Rome, the Teutonic Knights would accuse us again of being pagans. As Poles and loyal subjects of King Władysław Jagiełło, we must take the good of Poland into account.”

“Get to the point.”

“It would be beneficial for Poland to strengthen its bond with Slavic Bohemia. What harm can come of that? What is hampering agreement? What obstacle lies in the way, driven into the ground like an iron wedge, dividing our lands? Upper Silesia. We can remove that obstacle, Hejtman Prokop. Remove it once and for all.”