The moment Reynevan entered the headquarters, Brázda of Klinštejn hugged and kissed him, after which Jan Kolda of Žampach, the brothers Matěj and Jan Salava of Lípa, Vilém Jeník and others he didn’t know began to shake his hand and slap him on the back. Jan Královec of Hrádek, Hejtman of the Orphans and leader of the expedition, gave no lavish display of emotion. And didn’t look surprised, either.

“Reynevan,” he said, greeting him quite coolly. “Well, I never. Welcome, O prodigal son. I knew you’d return to us.”

“It’s time we finished it,” said Jan Královec of Hrádek.

He was showing Reynevan around the lines and positions. They were alone. Královec wanted them to be alone. He wasn’t certain who had sent Reynevan and with what information and was expecting confidential messages intended for his ears only. Having learned that Reynevan was nobody’s envoy and was bringing no messages, his face darkened.

“It’s time we finished it,” he repeated, climbing up onto an earthwork and measuring with a hand the temperature of a bombard’s barrel, which was being cooled with untreated animal hides soaked in water.

He glanced up at the walls and towers of Strzegom. Reynevan was still looking back at what was left of the Carmelite monastery. The place, where—an absolute eternity ago—he had first met Scharley. An absolute eternity, he thought. Four years.

“Time we finished it.” Královec’s voice shook him out of his reverie and recollections. “It’s high time. We’ve done our job. December and January were enough for us to capture and sack Duszniki, Bystrzyca, Ziębice, Strzelin, Niemcza, the Cistercian abbey and monastery in Henryków, plus innumerable small towns and villages. We taught the Germans a lesson, they won’t forget us. But Shrovetide is past, it is Ash Wednesday, the ninth day of February. We’ve been warring for well over two months and during winter months at that! We must have marched a good forty miles. We are hauling behind us wagons heavy with spoils, driving herds of cattle. And morale is falling, the men are weary. Świdnica, outside which we were encamped for five whole days, repelled us. I’ll tell you the truth, Reynevan: we didn’t have the force to storm it. We fired cannons, hurled fire onto the rooftops and spread terror, thinking the people of Świdnica would surrender or at least wish to parley, pay a ransom. But Lord Kolditz was undaunted and we had to leave there empty-handed. Strzegom has clearly taken heart, for it also holds out valiantly. And once again we intimidate, sow terror, fire cannons and chase around the forests with Wrocław patrols trying to beset us. But I’ll be frank: we’ll have to leave here empty-handed, too. And go home. For it is time. What do you think?”