“A little!” Hackeborn laughed. “That ‘little’ will save your arse, chum. Rather than heading to the scaffold or the torture chamber, you’re riding to Stolz Castle, because at the castle you can only talk to the walls about your erotic prowess in Adèle’s bedchamber, and the walls there are thick. You’ll do a bit of time, but you’ll save your head and other members. In Stolz, no one can get their hands on you, not even the bishop or the Inquisition. The Bibersteins are powerful magnates, they aren’t afraid of anyone, and no one will dare to fall foul of them. Yes, yes, Reynevan. It saved you that Duke Jan didn’t want to admit that you had dallied with his new mistress before him. Understand? A lover whose exquisite little furrow has only been ploughed by her husband is almost a virgin, but one who has given herself to other paramours is a harlot. For after all, if Reinmar of Bielawa bedded her—anybody could have.”

“You’re too kind. Many thanks.”

“Don’t thank me. I told you that Amor saved you. So see it like that.”

No, no, not entirely, thought Reynevan. Not entirely.

“I know what you’re thinking,” said the knight, surprising him. “That a corpse is even more discreet? That they’re liable to poison you or quietly break your neck at Stolz. Not at all, if that’s what you’re thinking. Want to know why?”

“I do.”

“Jan of Biberstein himself suggested to the duke that you be discreetly imprisoned at Stolz, and the duke agreed at once. And now the best part: do you know why Biberstein was so quick to suggest it?”

“I have no idea.”

“But I do. Because a rumour was going around Ziębice that the duke’s sister, Countess Euphemia, asked him, and the duke holds her in high esteem. Has done since they were children, it is said, which is why the countess is so important at the Ziębice court even though she has no position—I mean, what kind of countess is she? Her title’s meaningless. She bore the Swabian Friedrich eleven children and when he died, they turfed her out of Oettingen, that’s no secret. But in Ziębice she’s a real lady, through and through.”

Reynevan had no intention of denying it.

“She wasn’t the only one to approach Sir Jan Biberstein to intervene on your behalf,” continued Hackeborn a moment later. “Want to know who else?”

“I do.”

“Biberstein’s daughter, Katarzyna. She must be fond of you.”

“Is she the tall girl? With fair hair?”

“Don’t play the fool. You know her. Rumour has it she saved you from your pursuers. Oh, how strangely entangled it has all become. Isn’t this comedy of errors a veritable Tower of Fools?”