“Welcome, welcome, you’re most welcome,” he panted. “What an honour, what an honour it is that your enlightened graciousness—”

“It’s thronged here today.” Kantner dismounted from his bay, helped by his servants. “Who are you putting up? Who is emptying your pots? Will there be sufficient for us, too?”

“Most definitely, most definitely,” assured the innkeeper, struggling to catch his breath. “And it isn’t at all thronged now… I drove the lesser knights, bards and free peasants outside… I only just saw m’lords on the highway. There’s room in the chamber now, in the snug, too, only—”

“Only what?” Rudiger Haugwitz raised an eyebrow.

“There are guests in the chamber. Important and clerical personages… Emissaries. I dared not—”

“And well you didn’t,” interrupted Kantner. “You would have slighted me and the whole of Oleśnica had you dared. Guests are guests! And as I am a Piast, not a Saracen sultan, it is no offence to me to eat alongside other guests. Lead on, gentlemen.”

The partially smoke-filled chamber perfused with the smell of cabbage was indeed not crowded. In truth, only one table was occupied. Two of the three tonsured men seated there wore clothing typical for journeying clergy, but so opulent that they couldn’t have been ordinary priests. The third was wearing the habit of a Dominican.

At the sight of Kantner entering, the clergymen stood up from the bench. The one with the most sumptuous costume bowed, but without undue humility.

“Your Grace Duke Konrad,” he said, showing that he was well informed. “This is indeed a great honour for us. I am, with your permission, Maciej Korzbok of the Poznań Diocese, on a mission to Your Grace’s brother in Wrocław, and my travelling companions are Master Melchior Barfuss, curate to the Bishop of Lubusz, and Reverend Jan Nejedlý from Vysoké, prior Ordo Praedicatorum.”

The Brandenburgian and the Dominican lowered their tonsured heads, and Konrad Kantner responded with a faint tilt of his.

“Your Eminence, Your Excellencies,” he said nasally, “it will be delightful to sup in such company. And to converse, both here and on the road, if it doesn’t tire you, Reverends, since I also ride to Wrocław. With my daughter… Over here, Aneżka… Curtsy before Christ’s servants.”

Aneżka curtsied and bowed her head, intending to kiss Maciej Korzbok’s hand, but he stopped her, blessing her with a swift sign of the cross over her flaxen fringe. The Czech Dominican put his hands together, leaned over and muttered a short prayer, adding something about clarissima puella.

“And this,” continued Kantner, “is Seneschal Rudiger Haugwitz. And these are my knights and my guest…”

Reynevan felt a tug on his sleeve. He obeyed Krompusz’s gestures and hisses and followed him out into the courtyard where the commotion caused by the duke’s arrival continued. Ebersbach was waiting there.