Chapters (32)
- Cover
- Prologue
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Discover More
- extras
- meet the author
- if you enjoyed
- By Andrzej Sapkowski
“Thus, in brief: the crux is that the Devil’s hordes fell on the monastery on Holy Tuesday itself. They attacked suddenly, like a bolt from the blue; they climbed the walls, beat down the gate and before you could say peccatores te rogamus the entire horde was inside. And set to killing… What horror! Sanctus Deus, sanctus fortis, sanctus immortalis, miserere nobis… They stuck Brother Adalbert with a spear, Brother Pius fell from sword cuts, as did Saint Dionysius… Brother Mateusz was downed with a crossbow, and many others graviter vulneratis… And the Hussites, may God punish them, began to drive cattle from the cowshed, piglets from the sty, lambs… They took them all, to the last beast… Ugh, scoundrels, not only were they haeretici, but also latrones et fures! From the church they seized vessels, reliquaries, copes, chasubles, a great silver cross, votive offerings, candlesticks… They left nothing. They drove those of us who were left alive up against the courtyard wall. The leader of that pack, an ugly fellow, no doubt a heretic, they called him Kralowicz, with another called Kolda, I believe. They called forth peasants. For may you know, Holy Tribunal, that local peasants—damned heathens, turncoats—were marching with those Hussite Czechs. The heretic Kralowicz orders them, go on, show us which of these monks oppressed the people and we’ll try them here and now. And he would punish the bloodsuckers—that’s what he called us. And those churlish Judases at once pointed out Brother Maternus: he ground us down. Indeed,’twas true that Frater Maternus could be stern with the peasants, he was wont to say rustica gens optima flens et pessima ridens. And for that they hauled him out and beat him to death with flails, the scoundrels. Then Celerarius Scholer was killed, the peasants pointed him out because he manhandled wenches, and at times boys, too… After him, Custos Wencel, Brother Idzi, Brother Laurenty… They screamed, moaned, begged, blood spurted, we on our knees, weeping, ab ira tua, ab odio et omni mola voluntate libera nos, Domine…