“I do.” All of a sudden, Reynevan recalled his conversation with the Carmelite hosteller. “I also understand perfectly that what matters to you is to atone for your sins, because after your nullum crimen penance, you’ll be back in grace and privilege. But I understand, too, that Canon Otto has you by the balls, for all he has to do is announce that you’ve fled from the Carmelite priory and you’ll be an outlaw to the end of your days. There’ll be no return to your order and your warm little monastery. Incidentally, which order and which warm little monastery would that be, may one ask?”

“No, one may not. Indeed, Reinmar dear, you understand things perfectly. I was released from the priory unofficially and I’m still performing my penance. And it’s true that owing to Canon Beess I’m performing it at liberty, for which I praise the canon, since I love liberty. Why, though, would the pious canon take away from me what he gave me? After all, I’m doing what he obliged me to do.”

Reynevan opened his mouth, but Scharley immediately interrupted him, and quite bluntly, too.

“Your tale of love and crime, although enthralling and truly worthy of Chrétien of Troyes, didn’t enthral me. You won’t convince me, laddie, that Canon Otto Beess commended you to my care to assist in saving oppressed womenfolk and to be an accomplice in a family feud. I know the canon. He’s a wise fellow. He sent you to me in order for me to rescue you, not for us both to put our heads on the block. Thus, I shall do what the canon expects of me: I’ll save you from your pursuers and deliver you safely to Hungary.”

“I won’t leave Silesia without Adèle, or without avenging my brother. I don’t deny that I could use some help and that I’m counting on it—counting on you. But if you won’t help me, too bad. I’ll cope by myself, and you can act according to your will. Go to Hungary, to Ruthenia, to Palestine, wherever you want. Enjoy the freedom you so love.”

“Thanks for the suggestion,” Scharley replied coldly, “but I shan’t avail myself of it.”

“Oh? And why not?”

“You clearly won’t cope. You’ll lose your head. And then the canon will demand mine.”

“Aha. If your head matters to you, you don’t have a choice.”

Scharley said nothing for a long time. Now that Reynevan knew him a little, he didn’t expect it to end there.