The innkeeper went away without revealing whether he’d understood the allusion. Tybald Raabe scratched his head. Reynevan had just finished his tale. Tybald gave him his complete attention and didn’t interrupt once. He now appeared to be lost in recollections.

“My dear Reinmar,” he finally said, abandoning the annoying mannerism of addressing him as “young master,” “if you expect any advice from me, it’ll be dead simple. Flee from Silesia. I’d warn you that you have plenty of enemies here, but you’re perfectly aware of that, after all. For that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? So listen to some good advice: flee to Bohemia. Your enemies here are a tiny bit too powerful for you to harm them.”

“Indeed?”

“Indeed, unfortunately.” The goliard looked at him keenly, fixing him with a piercing gaze. “In particular Jan, Duke of Ziębice, is a little beyond your reach. I know he plundered your possessions—I saw how he ruined Sir Piotr’s fulling mill. And I know sufficient about the circumstances of Adèle Stercza’s death to be able to see through your designs. Thus, I advise: abandon them. Duke Jan doesn’t give two hoots about your declarations of vengeance against him.”

“Your conclusions are too hasty,” said Reynevan, sipping from a cup of wine, which was indeed a little too watered down. “Too hasty, Tybald. Perhaps I have other tasks and affairs in Silesia, another mission? Would you dissuade me from them? You? After what I saw in Niemcza town square?”

The beguiler chortled. “Good, wasn’t it?” It grinned, showing crooked teeth. “They were racing about in the crowd like spaniels, spinning around like turds in an ice hole…”

“It’s our job,” said Tybald Raabe more seriously. “Agitation is vital. And Malevolt works with me, helps me, as you saw. Supports our cause. He shares our convictions.”

“Oh!” Reynevan showed his interest. “Regarding the teachings of Wycliffe and Huss? The abolition of papal primacy? Communion sub utraque specie and modifications to the liturgy? The need for reform in the Church?”

“No,” interrupted the beguiler. “None of that. I’m not an idiot, and only an idiot could believe that your Church is reformable. But I still support every revolutionary movement and insurrection. For the goal is nothing and the movement is everything. The world must be shaken at its foundations. Call forth chaos and confusion! Anarchy is the mother of order, for fuck’s sake. Let the old order crumble, let it go up in flames! And in the ashes will remain a shining diamond, the dawn of eternal victory.”

“I see.”

“Like hell you do. Innkeeper! More wine!”