In which Reynevan and Zawisza the Black of Garbów talk about this and that on the Brzeg highway. Then Reynevan cures Zawisza’s flatulence and Zawisza repays him with valuable lessons from recent history.

Slowing his horse a little, Zawisza the Black of Garbów raised himself up in the saddle and let out a prolonged fart. Then he gave a great sigh, pressed both hands down on his pommel and farted again.

“It’s that cabbage,” he explained as he drew level with Reynevan once more. “One can’t eat so much cabbage at my age. On the bones of Saint Stanisław! When I was young, I could eat a half-gallon of the stuff in no time and it didn’t bother me as long as there was plenty of caraway seed. But now, I barely take a bite and it gurgles in my guts, and the gases—you can see for yourself, lad—are almost rending me asunder. Age is a heavy burden.”

His horse, a mighty black stallion, broke into a thundering run as though raring to charge. The stallion was covered, from tail to nostrils, in a black caparison adorned on its withers with Sulima, the knight’s coat of arms. Reynevan was surprised not to have recognised the famous emblem sooner, the design of which was unusual in Polish heraldry.

“Why so silent?” Zawisza suddenly asked him. “We ride and ride and you’ve spoken barely a dozen words, at best, and then only when pressed. Have I offended you? It’s about Grunwald, isn’t it? Know what, lad? It would be easy for me to say that I couldn’t have killed your father or even crossed swords with him, but I shall not, for t’would be an untruth. That day, on the Dispersion of the Apostles, I killed many men in the utter pandemonium. For it was a battle, and that’s that.”

“My father,” said Reynevan, clearing his throat, “bore on his shield—”

“Coats of arms I do not remember,” Zawisza interrupted bluntly. “In battle they mean nothing to me. What matters is which way a horse’s head is facing. If it’s pointing at mine, I smite, even if the fellow has the Virgin Mary herself on his shield. In any case, when blood sticks to dust, and dust to blood, you can see bugger all anyway. I repeat, Grunwald was a battle. And a battle is a battle. Let’s leave it at that. Don’t take umbrage with me.”

“I am not.”