“Why must we wait?” asked Jutta. “Why can’t we ride straight to the Hussites with Master Dancel?”

“It’s too perilous. Around here are prowling gangs, marauders and deserters. And the mercenaries are no better than them. The local knights, even pflegers, are afraid to stand up to the Czechs, but are still inclined to pillage and take it out on unarmed people and women—”

“We know.”

“And the Czechs, hmm…” stammered Tybald Raabe. “Some lower-ranking commanders… God forbid you fall into their hands… Miss Jutta, Reynevan would never forgive me if I found you and then lost you.

“We shall wait here, in Bayreuth,” he said, ending the discussion. “I am certain the town will surrender. I have been operating here for several days, inciting the poor. The Patriciate are shaking in their shoes now, afraid of the Hussites on that side of the walls and of the mob on this side. Word has reached them from Plauen, and Hof… About massacres and fires. Bayreuth, you’ll see, will surrender and pay a ransom. And when the Czechs enter, I’ll hand you over into the care of the hejtmans. You’ll be safe.”

The candle flame flickered.

Reassured, bathed and fed, Jutta and Weronika first wept at length, reacting to the horror of their escape. Then they cheered up.

“There were moments I stopped believing,” said Weronika, laughing and tightening the pegs of a lute found among Tybald’s things in his clandestine quarters near the town walls. “I stopped believing we’d make it. I thought we’d come to a sorry end. If not ravaged with our throats slit by marauders, then in a ditch, expiring from the hunger and the cold. Admit it…”

“I admit it,” said Jutta. “I also had moments like that.”

“But that’s all behind us! Ha! We’ve survived! Time to think about ourselves. That Jakub Dancel. Just a boy, but a pretty one. His eyes are sweet. Simply sweet. Don’t make faces. You’ve now almost recovered your beau, you’re almost in his arms. And what about me? Still alone.”

Seulete sui et seulete vueil estre,

Seulete m’a mon douz ami laissiee;

Seulete sui, sanz compaignon ne maistre,

Seulete sui, dolente et courrouciee,

Seulete sui…

The candle flame flickered more strongly.

“Hush,” said Jutta, suddenly jerking up her head. “Did you hear that?”

“No. What was it?”

Jutta gestured for her to be quiet.

And in Bayreuth the bells suddenly began tolling.

The door crashed open and Tybald Raabe rushed in.

“We must flee!” he yelled. “The Hussites are here! Quickly, quickly!”

On the street they were carried away by a river of refugees bearing them towards the centre. From the north came loud shouts and gunfire; the night sky was tinged with a red glow. They ran, already feeling waves of hot air and inhaling the stench of burning. On their heels were screams, the wild and ghastly screams of people being killed.