“Only a few men remain at Sensenberg. With joined forces, we will make short work of them. And we can burn down that viper’s nest, that hotbed of evil. We would destroy Grellenort’s hideout, his centre of terror, his sorcerer’s base, the source of hash’eesh and other narcotics. We would sow doubt and fear among his Riders. And quicken his downfall.”

“Ha!” said Egbert of Kassel. He rubbed his hands together, glanced at the Inquisitor and fell silent.

“I’ve lately heard the opinion that terrorism is evil and leads nowhere,” said Grzegorz Hejncze slowly. “That seems not to be in doubt. But there is, however, one thing worse than terrorism: the methods used to counter it.”

There was a long silence.

“Why,” the Inquisitor finally spoke, “ad maiorem Dei gloriam, the end justifies the means… Let us ride to Sensenberg. Viribus unitis… Stop, not so fast, where are you going, Horn? I haven’t finished my sentence. We will make a truce, we will collaborate. But with certain conditions.”

“Yes.”

“Without calling our truce ‘fragile,’ I’ll call it ‘temporary.’ You aren’t free yet; after Sensenberg I shall want to talk to you. Carry out an exchange of information. And set the limits… for our mutual help… in the future.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know very well what. You give me something and I give you something. In order for our conversations to flow more freely and discreetly, I shall lock you up. Not in prison, but in a monastery.”

“If so, make it a women’s one,” said Urban Horn, smiling. “For example, the one where you are holding Reynevan’s betrothed captive.”

“What the Devil are you talking about?” said Hejncze, growing angry. “What betrothed? Now it’s you peddling that nonsense. Do you claim that I… That the Holy Office abducts and incarcerates maidens? How absurd!”

“You claim it’s not the Inquisition that is holding Jutta Apolda captive?”

“I do indeed claim that. Enough rot, Horn. Before us a sanctum et gloriosum opus: Sensenberg and the Black Riders.”

“We’ll deal with them, for we attack in an alliance,” said Egbert of Kassel, standing up and slamming his fist on the table. “And there is strength in an alliance! To horse, with God! And if God is with us, who can stand against us?”

“Si Deus pro nobis,” continued Hejncze, “quis contra nos?”

“Or as it is rendered in the Czech tongue: Kdyžť jest Bůh s námi, i kdo proti nám?” said Horn, smiling.

They set off, not wasting time, at a gallop, forty-five horse, the Kopaniec unit, the Inquisitor’s men and Horn’s mercenaries. They rode towards the Kaczawskie Mountains; Parsifal didn’t remember the way precisely, since he was in a state of constant, almost trembling excitement.