Scharley utterly surprised Reynevan. Having heard the premises of the brilliant plan, he by no means mocked, or jeered, or called him a clown or an idiot—why, he didn’t even tap his forehead, which he did quite often in discussions. Having heard the premises of his brilliant plan, Scharley calmly put down the mug of beer he was drinking with his breakfast, stood up and left the room without a word. He didn’t respond to being called, didn’t even turn his head. He didn’t even kick the dog that had got caught up in his feet but stepped over it with menacing calm. He didn’t even slam the door as he went out. He simply walked away.

“I do understand him a little,” said Jan Čapek of Sány, who had appeared in the castle kitchen at just the right time to hear the premises of the brilliant plan. “You are a dangerous man, Brother Bielawa. I once had a comrade who often entertained similar ideas. Often. He was a serious threat. Until recently.”

“Until recently?”

“Indeed. As a result of his last idea, he was broken on the wheel in Loket town square a year ago, as part of the Saint Ludmila’s Day celebrations. Two others were also executed with him. There are ideas which don’t just harm the author but the people around him, too. Regrettably.”

“My plan will certainly not harm anybody,” said Reynevan, slightly irked. “If only because I shall undertake and execute it myself, alone. Only I will be taking a risk.”

“But a great one.”

“Do we have a choice? No, we don’t! Tauler is still unconscious, and even if he comes round, you said yourself, Brother Čapek, that the secret underground passage to Trosky is an illusion and nothing will come of it. Time is short. We must take action. I consider my plan for entering the castle quite feasible, with a good chance of success.”

“My, oh my!”

Reynevan bristled. “Lord Bergow is a German.” He began counting on his fingers. “Lord Dohna, too. The Hussites who captured the young Keuschburg, indeed also a German, are much closer to Trosky than to Falkenberg. It’s normal and logical that they would send an emissary with a demand for a ransom to Lord Bergow. It is clear and obvious that Lord Bergow would inform Lord Dohna, his fellow countryman, about it.”

“Lord Bergow,” said Čapek, shaking his head, “would seize the Hussite emissary by the arse and chuck him into the dungeon. As he usually does.”

“The Hussites know he does that.” Reynevan smiled triumphantly. “They have learned that oaths mean nothing to him, that knightly parole may be violated. For which reason they will use a completely chance person as an emissary. A foreigner. An itinerant poet from Champagne wandering aimlessly around the countryside.”

Čapek said nothing. He just raised his eyes towards the heavens. Or actually towards the kitchen ceiling.