“Two thousand four hundred groschen.” Janko Schaff appeared not to have heard. “Not such a great sum, I thought. The late Sir Piotr loaned us much more in days gone by. And m’Lord Reinmar, plucked from the clutches of the Lusatian murderers, I thought to myself, will be able to return the favour. For Master Reinmar has five hundred grzywna which he robbed from the tax collector two years ago. He’ll be able to repay it. And share it out.”

“Oh, Lord Schaff.” Reynevan sighed, apparently nonchalantly. “Do you believe rumours? You’ve just said that those men have designs on me, that they’re using underhand methods. That they don’t shrink from slander and calumny, that they spread vile rumours about me in order to denigrate me. For it’s a calumny and an untruth that I robbed the tax collector. A calumny and an untruth, do you understand? I’m grateful for the rescue, I shan’t forget you, m’lord. But now, if you don’t mind, I must bid you farewell. I have to find my companions, who—”

“Not so fast.” Schaff glanced at his men and gave a signal. They moved in at once. “Not so fast, Lord Bielawa. You wish to bid me farewell? So swiftly? Where’s your gratitude? I didn’t buy you out at Trosky, agreed, though good intentions count. But I did save you from the wild monsters, you can’t deny that. If not for me, you’d be dead. So when we divide up the tax collector’s grzywnas, you take three hundred and I’ll take the rest. That’ll be fair.”

“I didn’t rob the tax collector and don’t have that money!”

“We’ll talk more at Chojnik Castle about whether you have it, how much you have and where it is.” Schaff squinted slightly. “Whence we shall soon set off. If you give me your knightly parole that you won’t try to escape, I won’t order you bound. In any case, where could you escape to? The forests are teeming with those hell hounds. Bergow is certainly on your trail. Ulrik Biberstein—who can’t wait to get his hands on you—is also sniffing around near Trosky. No harm will come to you while you’re with me. I’ll even leave you some of the tax collector’s money, I’ll only take… Four hundred grzywna. For which reason—”

Before the heir to Chojnik could finish, the Visumrepertum periapt quivered on Reynevan’s arm. Spontaneously.