At first, they thought it was a fragment, a swirl of darkness limned by anthracite blackness in the flickering murk of the night, lit up by flashes of fire. When the flame burned more fiercely, that cloud of darkness, although losing none of its blackness, assumed a shape, and a form. A stocky, plump form, but not that of a bird ruffling up its feathers, nor a beast bristling its fur. The creature’s head, pulled into its shoulders, was topped by a pair of large, pointed feline ears, sticking up straight and unmoving.

Without taking his eyes off the creature, Wojciech slowly put the crossbow down. One of the servants appealed for the intercession of Saint Kinga, but he was also quietened by a gesture from Zawisza. Not violent, but charged with power and authority.

“Greetings, stranger,” said the knight from Garbów, astonishingly calm. “Fear not and take your seat by our campfire.”

The creature moved its head and Reynevan saw a fleeting flash of large eyes reflecting red flame.

“Fear not and take a seat,” repeated Zawisza in a voice that was kindly and hard at the same time. “You need not fear us.”

“I fear you not,” said the creature hoarsely, to everyone’s utter astonishment. Then the creature held out a paw. Reynevan would have sprung back had he not been too afraid to move. He suddenly realised in astonishment that the paw was pointing at the arms on Zawisza’s shield. Then, to his even greater astonishment, the creature pointed at the cauldron with the herbal infusion.

“Sulima and a herbalist,” the creature croaked. “Rectitude and knowledge. What is there to fear? I fear not. My name is Hans Mein Igel.”

“Greetings to you, Hans Mein Igel. Be you hungry? Or thirsty?”

“No. It came to sit down. And listen. For it heard their words. And came to listen.”

“Please, be our guest.”

The creature approached the campfire, bristled up into a ball and stopped moving.

“Aaaye.” Zawisza’s composure was truly astonishing. “Where was I?”

“You were…” Reynevan swallowed, regaining his speech. “You were saying nec Hercules.”

“That is so,” croaked Hans Mein Igel.

“Aye,” said the knight freely, “that I was. Nec Hercules, the Hussites overcame us. Indeed, we were fortunate to be attacked by the cavalry, for the Tábor flailmen do not know the words ‘mercy’ or ‘ransom.’ When they finally hauled me from the saddle, one of the knights remaining with me managed to shout out who I was, that I had fought at Grunwald with Žižka and Jan Sokol of Lamberk.”

Reynevan gasped softly on hearing the distinguished names. Zawisza was silent for a long time.

“You probably know the rest,” he said finally, “for the rest cannot differ much from the legend.”

Reynevan and Hans Mein Igel nodded in silence. It was a good while before the knight took up the story again.