“Begone,” said Reynevan, breathing out hard. “Apage. Begone, go away. I won’t let anyone frighten or blackmail me any longer. There is a limit.”

“True. And you’ve reached it. I warn you in earnest not to cross it.”

“I don’t believe in your threats. The Inquisition won’t dare to harm Jutta.”

“The Inquisition won’t. But I will. Enough of this, time is short. Reynevan, I warn you, I’m serious—don’t doubt that I’ll do what I say I will do. I won’t hesitate. You must decide. If you tell me the location of the crossing, you will regain Jutta, I’ll give her back to you. Otherwise, you will never see the girl alive again. Stay calm, stay patient and don’t make me harm you or your Jewess. I’m standing with my heel on her throat, I can crush her windpipe at any moment. And I’ll kill you, too, if you do anything stupid. And then I’ll have Miss Apolda killed. Decide and fast. Time is running out.”

Several Taborites passed, hardly paying them any attention. Fights, tussles and score-settling on the periphery were nothing special, part of everyday camp life. Reynevan could have cried out, naturally, or called for help. But he didn’t.

“Will you free…” he said hoarsely. “Will you free Jutta? Will you give her to me? Promise me.”

“I swear on my soul’s salvation. Where will the crossing be?”

“Upstream from Grimma. In Kössern. The day after tomorrow at dawn.”

“If you’re lying to me, your Jutta dies.”

“I’m telling the truth. I’ve made a decision.”

“And a wise one,” said Łukasz Bożyczko.

He vanished into the gloom.

A short while after, Rixa groaned and moved. As she got up onto her knees, she groaned again, grabbing her head in a sudden movement. She saw Reynevan.

“Did you say…? she said, choking. “Did you tell him where?”

“I had to. Jutta—”

“I’ll kill…” she said, jumping to her feet and staggering. “I’ll kill the bastard!”

“No! He has Jutta! You can’t!”

He tried to seize her by the elbow. Rixa pulled her arm free, caught him by the wrist and twisted. He screamed in pain. She stuck out a foot and threw him to the ground over her hip. Before he could get to his feet, she had disappeared into the darkness.

He walked towards the middle of the camp like a blind man, staggering and stumbling. Several times he ran into one of the Taborites, several times he was called a drunk idiot and a prick, several times he was shoved hard. He paid no attention to it.

“Reynevan!” said the next man he bumped into, who grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. “Hey! I’ve been looking for you!”

“Scharley? Is it you?”

“No. It’s Saint Perpetua. What the bloody hell’s wrong with you? Pull yourself together!”