They entered a small square. Jarre stepped back, covering his mouth and nose with his sleeve. About a dozen corpses were hanging from a large, stone gallows. Some of them–their appearance and smell betrayed it–had been hanging there a long time. ‘That one,’ pointed Dennis, simultaneously driving flies away, ‘wrote stupid graffiti on walls and fences. That one claimed that war is a matter for lords and that the Nilfgaardian drafted peasants aren’t his enemies. And that one told the following anecdote when he was drunk: “What’s a spear? It’s a nobleman’s weapon, a stick with a poor man on each end.” And there, at the end, do you see that woman? She was the madam of the military brothel on wheels, which she decorated with the words “Soldier, get your leg over today! You might not be able to tomorrow”.’

‘And just for that…’

‘Furthermore, one of the girls had the clap, as it turned out. Which contravenes the law concerning sabotage and the undermining of military readiness.’

‘I understand, Mr Cranmer.’ Jarre stood up straight in a position he considered soldierly.

‘But don’t worry about me. I’m no defeatist…’

‘You haven’t understood shit and don’t interrupt me, because I haven’t finished. That last hanged man, the one stinking to high heaven, was only guilty of reacting to the chatter of a provocateur-snooper with the shout “You were right, sir, it’s like that and not otherwise, as two plus two makes four!” Now tell me if you understand.’

‘I do.’ Jarre looked around furtively. ‘I shall be careful. But… Mr Cranmer… What’s it really like…?’

The dwarf also looked around.

‘It’s like this,’ he said softly. ‘Marshal Menno Coehoorn’s Centre Army Group is marching north with a force of around a hundred thousand men. Indeed, were it not for the insurrection in Verden, they’d already be here. Indeed, it would be better if negotiations were to take place. Indeed, Temeria and Redania don’t have the forces to stop Coehoorn. Indeed, not before the strategic border of the Pontar.’

‘The River Pontar,’ whispered Jarre, ‘is north of here.’

‘That’s exactly what I wanted to say. But remember: keep your trap shut about that.’

‘I’ll beware. When I’m in my unit will I also have to? May I also encounter a snooper?’

‘In a frontline unit? Near the front? Not really. Snoopers are so ardent behind the front, because they’re afraid of ending up on it. Furthermore, if they hung every soldier what grumbles, complains and swears there’d be no one left to fight. But, like you did with the matter of Ciri, Jarre, always keep your trap shut. Mark my words, no dung fly ever flew into a trap that was shut. Now go, I’ll take you to the committee.’