“Yes, yes. But hold the dog. As to our business here, we’re a search party tracking somebody. Thus, I must ask you, Horn, who rides with you?”

“Let us first be specific,” said Urban Horn coldly. “Who are my noble lords pursuing? If it’s cattle thieves, for instance, that rules us out for plenty of reasons. Primo: we don’t have any cattle. Secundo—”

“Very well, very well.” The freckled knight had already looked over the priest and the rabbi and contemptuously waved a hand. “Just tell me: do you know them all?”

“I do. Will that suffice?”

“It will.”

“We beg your forgiveness, Reverend.” Another knight, in a sallet and full armour, bowed slightly before Father Granciszek. “But we do not incommode you for sport. A crime has been committed and we are pursuing a murderer on the orders of Lord Reideburg, the Strzelin starosta. This is Sir Kunad of Neudeck, while I am Eustachy of Rochow.”

“What crime was it?” the priest asked. “For God’s sake—has somebody been killed?”

“Aye. Not far from here. Sir Albrecht Bart, Lord of Karczyn.”

There was silence for some time, finally broken by Urban Horn’s voice. And his voice was altered.

“What? How did it happen?”

“It was most strange,” Eustachy of Rochow replied slowly, after a moment, which he spent looking at Horn suspiciously. “Firstly, it was at high noon. Secondly, it was in combat. Were it not impossible, I’d say it was a duel. One man, mounted and armed, killed Lord Bart with a skilful sword thrust to the face, between nose and eye.”

“Where did this happen?”

“A quarter of a mile from Strzelin. Lord Bart was returning from visiting a neighbour.”

“Alone? With no escort?”

“Such was his custom. He had no enemies.”

“Eternal rest,” muttered Father Granciszek, “grant him, Lord. And light—”

“He had no enemies,” repeated Horn, interrupting the prayers. “But are there any suspects?”

Kunad of Neudeck rode closer to the wagon, examining Dorota Faber’s breasts with evident interest. The courtesan flashed him a charming smile. Eustachy of Rochow also rode closer, grinning. Reynevan was very pleased, for no one was looking at him.

“There are a few suspects.” Neudeck tore his gaze away from Dorota. “Some suspicious individuals were loitering in the area—Kunz Aulock, Walter of Barby and Stork of Gorgowice. A rumour is circulating that some youth bedded a knight’s wife, and that knight is now hunting the seducer, hell-bent on catching him.”

“It cannot be ruled out,” added Rochow, “that the same libertine, chancing upon Lord Bart, panicked and killed him.”

“If so,” said Urban Horn, cleaning his ear out with a finger, “you’ll easily catch that ‘libertine,’ as you call him. He must be at least seven foot tall and four foot across the shoulders. It’d be difficult to hide someone like that among ordinary folk.”