“Then let’s not waste time,” Rixa decided. “Let’s get as far as Nowogrodziec before dusk.”

“I cannot,” replied Scharley to Reynevan’s enquiring expression. “Kroměšín was right, I’m serving. The Tábor wouldn’t forgive me if I deserted, and desertion means the noose. The men from my own unit would haul me up onto a branch.”

“I will go,” declared Samson softly. “Halfwits can get away with anything. They can’t treat me as a deserter, for I never enlisted. I was on Scharley’s inventory. When he tells them I’ve vanished, it’ll be as if his dog ran away.”

“Godspeed, Scharley,” said Reynevan, leaping into the saddle. “Be heedful of yourself.”

“You be heedful. There’s only four of you, while I have six thousand comrades. And two hundred wagons with artillery.”

The sun was setting. There was a smell of burning in Bolesławiec, flames still creeping over the embers. In Bolesławiec, blood was clotting black in gutters. In Bolesławiec, some dogs howled, others were nipping at the bodies of the dead. Bolesławiec resounded with the groans of the wounded and dying, with the cries of the raped and orphaned, with the faltering prayers of those who were without hope.

Finally, the sun set and the wounded town fell silent.

Nox ruit et fuscis tellurem amplectitur alis. Night rushes down and embraces the earth with shadowy wings.

Poor Reynevan.

I’m truly sorry for him, Marketa. I’m truly sorry I couldn’t help him in his misfortune in any way.

We arrived at the Cistercian convent in Marienstern after two days’ ride, only to find out that Miss Jutta wasn’t there. It distressed Reynevan greatly. But the fact that Jutta had been there distressed him even more. For three months, from the middle of February to Pentecost. They missed each other by barely a month.

We visited all the female convents in the vicinity. We searched at the Poor Clare convent in Seusslitz, the Benedictines’ convent in Riese and the Magdalene Sisters in Lubáň. In Zgorzelec, we spoke to the Cistercian nuns from Marienthal near Ostritz, who had fled after their nunnery was burned down in 1427. We didn’t find Jutta anywhere; nothing was known about her anywhere. Reynevan was completely beside himself. I couldn’t help him.

I’m truly sorry for him, Marketa.

Are you too?

We returned to Prague from Lusatia; in the middle of August, Scharley also arrived there, we spent some time together, but Scharley had to return to the field army soon after. He is currently stationed somewhere near Jičín, but news is circulating about another punitive expedition, planned for after Saint Wacław’s Day.