The defenders responded with shots and yells. The yells were fierce and brave now that the town’s citizens had managed to count the Hussites.

They rode at breakneck speed, not sparing a thought for the horses. Although it looked like sheer stupidity, it turned out to be part of the plan. Having covered a distance of almost half a mile at astonishing speed, they reached the snow-covered Owl Mountains and passed Silver Mountain, where five young Hussites and fresh horses were waiting for them in a forest ravine. Clothing and equipment were found for the former prisoners of the Narrenturm. A little time was also found for conversation.

“Samson? How did you find us?” Scharley asked.

“It wasn’t so simple,” said the giant, tightening his horse’s girth. “After your arrest, you simply vanished. I did my best to find out where you’d been taken, but no one would talk to me. Fortunately, although they didn’t talk to me, they talked in front of me quite freely. One rumour had it that they’d taken you to Świdnica, another that it was Wrocław. Then Master Tybald Raabe, our friend from Kromolin, happened along. It took me some time to persuade him to listen to me, because at first he took me for an imbecile.”

“Can we let that drop, Master Samson?” the goliard said with slight reproach. “We’ve already discussed it. Why go back to it? And since you do look, forgive me, like a—”

“We all know what Samson looks like,” said Scharley, who was shortening his stirrup leathers alongside them. “Just tell us what happened next.”

“Master Tybald Raabe was taken in by my appearance.” Samson’s dopey face twisted into a smile. “Like everyone else, he disdainfully refused to talk to me, but he was so indifferent to my presence that he talked in front of me. I quickly realised who Master Tybald Raabe was and made him understand that I knew. And how much I knew.”

“So it was, m’lord.” The goliard blushed, embarrassed. “I was terrified then… But it was all… explained…”

“It became clear that Master Tybald had friends,” Samson interrupted calmly, “among the Hussites from Hradec Králové since he works for them as an intelligence agent and an emissary, as you’ve probably guessed.”

“What a coincidence.” Scharley grinned. “And what an abundance of—”

“Scharley.” Urban Horn, standing behind his horse, cut him off. “Drop it, will you?”

“Very well, very well. Go on, Samson. How did you find out where to look for us?”

“That is a curious thing. Several days ago, a slightly strange young man approached me in a tavern near Broumov. He made it clear he knew who I was. Unfortunately, at first he wasn’t able to utter anything save the sentence—and I quote—‘bring out the prisoners from the prison and them that sit in darkness out of the prison house.’”

“Isaiah!” said Reynevan in amazement.