“Well, well,” said Ambrož, standing with arms akimbo. “What faithful parishioners. To save their priest, they not only gave him a woman’s shift, but an infant, too. What a sacrifice. Who would you be, papist scum?”

The priest screwed his eyes up even tighter.

“It is Mikołaj Megerlein,” said one of the peasants accompanying the Hussite staff. “The local parish priest.”

The Hussites mumbled. Ambrož flushed, inhaling noisily.

“Father Megerlein,” he said in a slow, drawling voice. “Well I never. What a stroke of luck. I’ve dreamed of such an encounter ever since the last bishop’s raid on the Trutnov region. We were pinning our hopes on such an encounter. Brothers!” he said, straightening up. “Take a look! Here is a cur of the Whore of Babylon! A murderous tool in the hands of the Bishop of Wrocław, he has bedevilled the true faith and condemned good Christians to torture and torment, and spilled innocent blood with his own hands at Vízmburk! God has given him up into our hands that we might punish evil and wrongdoing! Do you hear, you murdering papist? What, you close your eyes to the truth? Close your ears, like the deaf adder from the Bible? Ha, heretical swine, you do not know the Bible if you consider your wanton bishop, your venal Rome and your Antichrist Pope the only authorities. And your blasphemous gilded paintings! So I will teach you the word of God! The Apocalypse of John, fourteen, nine: ‘If any man worship the beast and his image, and receive his mark in his forehead, or in his hand, the same shall drink of the wine of the wrath of God! And shall be tormented with fire and brimstone!’ Fire and brimstone, papist! Hey, over here! Take him and wrap him up, as we did the monks in Beroun and Prachatice!”

Several Hussites seized the parish priest. He saw what the other men were bringing and began to scream. He was struck in the face with an axe-handle, fell silent and went limp in the arms of the men holding him.

Samson struggled, but Scharley and Horn caught him at once. Seeing that two might be too few to restrain him, Halada rushed to help them.

“Be quiet,” hissed Scharley. “By God, be quiet, Samson…”

Samson turned his head and looked him in the eyes.

Four sheaves of straw were placed around Father Megerlein. After a moment’s thought, two more were added, so that the priest’s head was entirely covered in straw. Then he and the sheaves were bound tightly with a chain and the straw lit in several places.

Reynevan began to feel uncomfortable and turned away.

He heard a wild, inhuman roar, but didn’t see the burning effigy run, stumbling, across the shallow snow through a double file of Hussites, who shoved it with their pikes and halberds. Or see it finally fall, rolling and thrashing around, smoking and throwing up sparks.