“The noble daughter of the noble Jan, swore Weyrach, was shown respect by the kidnappers, no one laid a finger on her or offended her honour with even a bold glance. Unfortunately, there happened to be in the honourable Raubritter company, quite by accident, a certain avowed miscreant, good-for-nothing debauchee and sorcerer to boot. He, bearing a grudge against Sir Jan, used magic to seize his daughter from the kidnappers and assuredly raped the poor child. Doubtless making use of black magic, so the poor thing remained unaware of what went on. The scoundrel and rapist went by the alias of Reinmar of Hagenau, but news travels fast, people put two and two together and the truth always comes out. It was revealed to be none other than Reinmar of Bielawa, known as Reynevan.”

“And that was sworn on the cross? The heavens are indeed forbearing.”

She snorted. “Weyrach’s revelations would have been believed without a cross, too. The reputation of Reinmar of Bielawa was already established in Silesia. He had already used witchcraft to coerce women… Suffice to recall the affair with Adèle of Stercza… You’ve paled a little, I see. Out of fear?”

“No. Not out of fear.”

“I thought not. Returning to the matter in hand: no one questioned the Raubritter’s testimony, no one had any doubts. No one thought twice. Save me.”

“Indeed?”

“Weyrach swore that only one maiden had been kidnapped: Biberstein’s daughter, to be precise. Only her. The second maid remained with the strongbox; she was ordered to pass on the ransom demand… Do you have anything to add?”

“I do not.”

“And nothing surprises you about the story?”

“Nothing.”

“Even that the pursuers didn’t find the other girl, Jutta of Apolda? And that the following day both maidens returned to Stolz? Together, even though, if Weyrach is to be believed, one was kidnapped twice in one day and the other not once? Doesn’t even that astonish you?”

“Not even that.”

“You can’t be so resistant to astonishment,” she suddenly sneered, and anger flashed in her blue eyes. “Thus, you mock me.”

“You do me an injustice, madam, imputing that to me. Or—which is more likely—you’re toying with me.”

“You know best what happened to the maids, first-hand. You were there, you don’t deny it, you took part in the robbery. Weyrach’s account points to you as the father of Katarzyna Biberstein’s child, and you indeed do not deny it, you appear only to suggest that the commerce occurred with her consent. Which seems strange, if not quite improbable… But also conceivable… You are paling and blushing by turns, my boy. Which makes one think.”