“You are emissaries, but of the Devil. And parole given to heretics is empty. Horn is a traitor and a heretic. And you are a heretic. You were once my comrade, Reynevan, so I shall not order you bound. But shut your trap!”

He did as he was told.

“I shall turn him over to the bishop,” said the duke, nodding at Horn. “It is my duty as a good Christian and son of the Church. Where you are concerned… I’ve already saved you once as an old friend. And now I also mean to release you—”

“What?” roared the priest as the Falkenhayn and Knight Hospitaller growled. “Release a heretic? A Hussite?”

“And you shut your trap, Pater.” Wołoszek flashed teeth beneath his moustache. “And only open it when requested. I release you, Reinmar of Bielawa, mindful of our erstwhile friendship. But it’s the last time, by God’s wounds! The last time! Don’t come before my eyes again! I’m leading a crusading force. Soon I shall join my company with the bishop’s men, and together we shall march to Opava to wipe you heretics from the face of the Earth. God willing, the Bishop of Wrocław will recognise me as a good Catholic! Who knows, perhaps he will cancel my debts. Who knows, perhaps he’ll return to me what he once stole from the Duchy of Opole. Thus, let’s hold high the cross, God thus wishes, and we march, march on Opava!”

“The wind blows ashes around where once the suburbs of Opava stood,” said Horn, arms bound. “Yesterday, Prokop was at Głubczyce. Today, he’s even closer.”

Bolko Wołoszek leaped forwards and punched Horn hard in the ear.

“I said,” he hissed, “I won’t talk to you, turncoat, much less listen to your prattle.”

“Reynevan!” He turned around violently. “What was he saying about Opava? Taken? Unbelievable! Let him go, Sir Krzych!”

“Opava held out,” answered Reynevan, rubbing his shoulder, “but the suburbs went up in smoke. Kietrz and Nová Cerekev also, and before them Hukvaldy and Ostrava. Hradec nad Moravicí and Głubczyce survived only due to the good sense of Duke Wenceslaus. He parleyed with Prokop, paid the ransom and saved the duchy. Or at least part of it.”

“Am I to believe that? Believe that Przemko of Opava didn’t join battle with the Hussites? Let his son negotiate with the Hussites?”

“Duke Przemko is crouching behind the walls of Opava Castle as quiet as a mouse, keeping his eyes on the fires that are burning wherever he looks. And the young Duke Wenceslaus clearly has good sense, which is enviable and ought to be imitated.”

“God will punish those who have fraternised with the heretics and parleyed with them,” the priest exploded. “A pact with a heretic is a pact with Satan! Whoever enters into one is damned for ever. And here, on Earth, while they’re alive—”