“Regarding your brother,” Scharley said after a time, “I’m going to be firm, if only because you can’t be certain who killed him. Don’t interrupt! A family feud is a grave matter. And you, as you divulged, have neither witnesses nor proof, just speculation and conjecture. I said, don’t interrupt me! Hear me out. Let’s get away, wait, gather information, acquire proof and raise some funds, then put a force together. I’ll help you. If you obey me, I promise you’ll taste revenge as it is best served. Cold.”

“But—”

“I haven’t finished yet. Regarding your sweetheart Adèle, the plan is still a load of cobblers, but I suppose stopping in Ziębice won’t prolong our journey much. And a great deal will be explained in Ziębice.”

“Are you implying something? Adèle loves me!”

“Is anyone denying that?”

“Scharley?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you and the canon insist on Hungary?”

“Because it’s far away.”

“But why not Bohemia? It’s also far away. And I know Prague, I have chums there—”

“What, don’t you go to church? Don’t you listen to sermons? Prague and the whole of Bohemia is now a cauldron of boiling pitch, and one can get one’s fingers badly scalded. And it might get even livelier soon. The Hussites’ effrontery has gone too far; neither the Pope, nor Sigismund, nor the Elector of Saxony, nor the landgraves of Meissen and Thuringia will put up with such insolent heresy. The Hussite apostasy is a thorn in Europe’s side. Any moment, the whole of Europe will mount a crusade against Bohemia.”

“There have already been anti-Hussite crusades,” Reynevan observed sourly. “The whole of Europe marched on Bohemia and received a sound beating. I recently heard about that beating from an eyewitness.”

“A credible one?”

“Absolutely.”

“But what of it? Europe got a hiding and learned some lessons. Now it’s preparing itself better. I say again: the Catholic world will not tolerate the Hussites. It’s only a matter of time.”

“They’ve tolerated them for seven years now. Because they have to.”

“The Albigensians lasted a hundred years, but where are they now? It’s only a matter of time, Reinmar. Bohemia will be bathed in blood, just like the Languedoc of the Cathars. And using the methods tried and tested in Languedoc, they will wipe out everyone in Bohemia, leaving it to God to identify the innocent and the faithful. That’s why we’re not going to Bohemia, but to Hungary. In Hungary, we only need fear the Turks, whom I prefer to the crusaders. When it comes to slaughter, Turks are no match for crusaders.”

The forest was quiet, nothing rustled or squeaked; the creatures had either taken fright at the spells, or—more likely—were simply bored of them. Just to be sure, Reynevan tossed the last of the herbs onto the fire.