“You heard what he said,” Scharley instructed the Fire Starter, in an extremely forceful and grim voice. “Get away from him. And you, m’lord clerk, stand up and come with me. We have some talking to do. The job’s finished, it’s time I was paid back. You owe me some information.”

Reynevan turned away and began suturing and applying a dressing. The wounded youngster was trembling, moaning and clenching his eyelids tightly.

He was moaning so pitifully that Reynevan decided to anaesthetise him with another spell. So strong that the boy’s eyes rolled up and he went limp.

The clearing emptied and the Fire Starters rode off into the forest. Then Scharley returned. Alone.

“Your quick temper might have cost me dearly,” he said coldly. “I didn’t expect you to punch him in the face right away. Fortunately, our Fugger is a man of affairs, a true professional. On top of that, I think he has taken a fancy to you.”

“In short,” said Reynevan, standing up, wiping his hands on some linen, “a man of affairs turned the convoy with the black wagon over to you. But even if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t have lost out. You wouldn’t have made any money, but you wouldn’t have lost anything, either. So don’t talk to me about costs.”

“You don’t understand, my friend,” said Scharley, linking his hands on his chest. “You don’t know everything. And perhaps that’s for the best, considering you intend to don a monk’s habit. What about the boy? Will he live? Has he given up the ghost? Is he dying?”

“He’ll die if we leave him here.”

“And you, a step away from your vows, won’t burden yourself with such a sin,” guessed Scharley. “So you’ll take him back to his own. And they’ll string you up, since they have in their ranks some outstanding specialists straight from Malbork who are expert at hanging captives.”

Scharley approached the wounded youngster and stood over him. He cowered in fear.

“Who are you? What’s your name?”

“Parsifal…” groaned the youngster. “Parsifal of Rachenau…”

“How did you get here? Where are the Oleśnica forces? How large are they? How many soldiers did the Order of Saint Mary send to help you?”

“Leave him in peace, Scharley.”