“I am a doctor,” said Reynevan, standing up. “I help the suffering and bring them relief. And since you are suffering, I may help you, too. Who did that to you?”

“My neighbours.”

The priest’s trunk was covered with bruises, which merged into a single large, blue-black contusion on his right side. The priest hissed and moaned under Reynevan’s hand as he examined him, groaning, sighing and sucking in air. Despite that, he kept up a constant stream of chatter.

“First of all… They burst in here yelling and raging. That the Roman Pope is the Antichrist… And that my faith is a dog’s faith. Faith, I replied, is grace, we do not choose faith. I received what came to me. Without complaint. But they… Instead of joining a theological dispute with me, they punched me in the head and then began kicking me. But they didn’t kill me… Did not burn down the church… Or the surrounding villages… Which means it may be true what people say… That our Duke Přemek has entered into a pact with the Hussites. And in exchange for the freedom to march through Opava they will not burn or plunder—”

“You have three broken ribs,” said Reynevan, with no thought of explaining to the priest the complexities of Přemek of Opava’s pact with the Tábor. “But the lungs are intact. I shall give you a compression dressing and medicine to ease the pain. I shall also leave you a remedy that will speed up the knitting of the bones. As long as it doesn’t bother you that it is magical. Does it?”

“Ha,” said the priest, looking curious. “A Hussite and a physician—and a sorcerer to boot. What’s in that brew?”

“You don’t need to know. And don’t want to.”

“But is it black magic? Will it put my immortal soul at risk?”

“Take precautions. Mix it half-and-half with holy water.”

“You knelt at the church door,” said the priest, looking Reynevan straight in the eyes. “You consider the war you are fighting in, the war you are heading to, a bellum justum. But you are aware that you may not cross the threshold of a church with the blood of a neighbour on your hands, even if it was spilled in a just war, before doing penance. Do I guess right?”

“You do not. Take the medicine regularly. After matutinum, at noon and before concubium. Farewell, I am going.”