“His heathenism,” Gottfried Rodenberg said, losing his temper, “most clearly manifests itself in his fierce hatred towards the entire German nation, which is a mainstay of the Church, and in particular to us, the Knights Hospitaller of the Blessed Virgin Mary, antemurale christianitatis, who have defended the Catholic faith from pagans with our lives for two hundred years! And it is true that this Jogaila is a neophyte and an idolater, who, in order to oppress our Order, is liable to ally himself not just with the Hussites, but with Hell itself. Oh, verily, we were not meant to be debating today about how to convince Jogaila and Poland to join the crusade, but to return to the issue which we discussed at Epiphany in Pressburg two years ago: how to launch a crusade on Poland itself, and tear to pieces that misbegotten creation, that bastard Union of Horodło!”

“Your speech,” said Bishop Oleśnicki very coldly, “is unworthy of somebody who considers himself the Bulwark of Christendom!”

“The fact is, Bishop,” interrupted Půta of Častolovice, “that your king supports the Hussites both openly and secretly. We understand that by doing so, he holds the Teutonic Knights in check, and that he must do so is no surprise to me, frankly. But the results of such politics may turn out to be fatal for the whole of Christian Europe. You all know that.”

“We do, unfortunately,” confirmed Ludwik of Brzeg, “and we can already see the consequences. Just look where the Poles are, where there are Polish coats of arms and Polish battle cries. Are Jogaila’s edicts, declarations and orders supporting the true faith? He’s pulling the wool over our eyes, simple as that.”

“Meanwhile, lead, horses, arms, food and all kinds of goods pass endlessly into Bohemia from Poland,” added Albrecht of Kolditz gloomily. “What then, Bishop? You send Peter’s Pence, which you praise so much, to Rome down one road and powder and balls for Hussite cannons down another? Quite like your king, who, they say, runs with the hare and hunts with the hounds.”

“I also worry about certain matters,” admitted Bishop Oleśnicki a moment later. “So help me God, I am making every effort to improve things, but it’s a waste of breath to endlessly repeat the same counterarguments. Hear this, my lords: my presence here is the proof of the Kingdom of Poland’s loyalty.”

“Which we value,” said Bishop Konrad, slapping a hand down on the table. “But what is your Kingdom of Poland today? Are you it, honourable Bishop Oleśnicki? Or the Lithuanian Prince Witold? Or one of the aristocratic families? Who reigns in Poland? For it’s certainly not King Władysław, a decrepit old man who is unable even to rule his own wife. Perhaps Sophia and her lovers are in charge.”

“Vero, vero,” Legate Orsini said sadly. “It’s a shame for such a king to be cornuto—”