“Who asked you?” roared Liebenthal. “Why do you open your trap?”

“Hush, gentlemen,” hissed Priedlanz, glancing around restlessly. “A little quieter. People are beginning to stare. And what is it, Bielawa?”

“Lady Borschnitz isn’t by any means old. My father is her age and is not an old man.”

“Who? What?”

“Sixty years isn’t old.” Reynevan raised his voice. “My father—”

“Fuck your father!” roared Liebenthal. “The Devil take your father! Sixty years isn’t old? You clod! Whoever passes sixty is a decrepit, senile, doddering old fool! And that’s that! And you sit quiet and don’t argue, or I’ll punch you in the face!”

“You’re growing ever louder,” snarled Priedlanz. “Not everyone has heard you yet. Take that filthy wretch by the door. I believe he hasn’t.”

“And further,” said Reynevan softly, looking Liebenthal straight in the eyes. “Further, I don’t like the way you refer to ladies, gentlemen. How dishonourably you treat them. One could think you measure all ladies with the same yardstick. Thinking them all alike.”

“Strike me down!” Liebenthal slammed his fist onto the table, making the dishes bounce. “For God’s sake! I can’t stand it!”

“Will you be quiet! Dammit—”

“Lord Bielawa.” Stročil leaned across the table. “What’s come over you, m’lord? Are you drunk or what? Or perhaps sick? First your father, now ladies… What’s the matter?”

“I deny that all ladies are alike.”

“Indeed, they are!” roared Liebenthal. “They are all the fucking same! And serve the same purpose!”

“I don’t believe it!” Reynevan leaped to his feet and waved his arms. “No, gentlemen! I refuse to listen to this! I barely endured it,” he said, his voicing growing louder and higher in pitch, “when you insulted the Holy Father, Pope Martin V, comparing him to an arsehole, calling him a decrepit, senile, doddering old fool! But refusing to revere Our Lady? Saying she doesn’t merit reverence? Saying she’s the same as all women and conceived and gave birth sicut ceterae mulieres? No, I will not listen to this placidly! I’m compelled to take my leave of your company!”

Liebenthal’s and Priedlanz’s jaws dropped. But not all the way. While they were still dropping, the four glum men at the table in the corner leaped to their feet, along with the pikemen in leather jerkins.

“In the name of the Holy Office! You are arrested!”