“The man with the battleaxes in his arms, next to Lord Kravaře, is Silvestr of Kralice, Hejtman of Fulnek,” Horn explained in hushed tones. “And the other one, with the beard, is Jan Helm.”

Jan of Kravaře reined in his horse.

“Young Masters Ungerath,” he said in a calm, somewhat unemotional voice, “a few words of explanation are in order. Since the time young Sir Gebhard and Sir Silvestr of Kralice, here present, devised their wily though none too honest plan, the situation has changed. And changed fundamentally, I’d say. M’lords, I was inspired by my spirit, the grace of enlightenment came to me, the scales fell from my eyes. I have seen the truth. I’ve understood who is in the right. I’ve realised who is on the side of honest Christian faith and who on the Antichrist’s. Since yesterday, m’lords, since the Saturday before Oculi Sunday, I have forsaken my allegiance to Sigismund and Albrecht, received the sacrament sub utraque specie and sworn to uphold the Four Articles of Prague. Since yesterday, good Czechs marching under the banner of the Chalice are no longer my foes, but my brothers in faith and my allies. It is clear that I cannot allow treachery and betrayal to befall my brothers and allies. I thus declare your agreement with Lord Kralice null and void.”

“Why… Why…” mumbled Gebhard Ungerath. “It’s not right… It’s dishonest… It’s treachery… Why, it’s—”

“I advise you to refrain from talk of treachery, m’Lord Ungerath,” the Lord of Jičín interrupted calmly, “since the word sounds somewhat grotesque in your mouth. And where do you see dishonesty? Why, everything here is honest and in keeping with divine order. Was there to be an exchange? There is one. According to the agreement: the Czechs gave you back your men; you gave the Czechs back theirs. To use the language of trade so you might better understand: the reckoning comes out even. But now I shall open an account. A quite new one. Now, follow me, Lord Ungerath. Your father will negotiate a ransom, for you and your brother. But before we strike a deal, the two of you will be locked up in the Jičín tower. And with you these other gentlemen. All of you, however many of you there are.”

Jan Helm laughed and Silvestr of Kralice joined the laughter, slapping an armoured hand against his thigh. Jan of Kravaře just smiled.

“I’d be a dullard, O Silesian Lords, if I didn’t wring out two thousand grzywna for the lot of you. Prokop was right, as were you, Horn, that I would profit by going over to the Chalice! That God would reward me! Indeed, He already is!”

“Honourable Sir Jan,” Reynevan suddenly spoke. “I have a request to you. Regarding two of those knights. Please set them free.”

The magnate looked long and hard at him.