“Things have changed,” interjected the Sobótka barber-surgeon. “I also asked the refugees. The Hussites reached Lwówek a week since, on Thursday, but didn’t cross the Bóbr. While the Lusatian knighthood, well-armed gentlemen who were meant to come to Silesia with relief, took fright and fled in cowardly fashion to the left bank, to cower there like mice. The Lusatians won’t come to our aid. We’re alone, children. Woe is Silesia!”

“Accursed Silesia!”

An ox lowed; a dog barked. Another child started crying. Elencza turned her head but couldn’t go. She was carrying a little boy and comforting him, and a slightly older little girl was clinging to her skirts. Elencza sighed and sniffed. Dzierżka scrutinised her from under her eyelashes. She’d never given birth, never had her own children, but she never regretted it, it had never been a problem. Not until today, she thought in sudden terror, a cold hand seizing her chest and tightening her throat.

“Our only hope is that the plundering raid goes on and on,” said the Wrocław burgher. “The Hussites must be exhausted, burdened down by all the spoils—”

“Only defeats are exhausting,” said the knight. “Only those who flee grow weary, their meagre bundles burdening them. Victory gives strength, spoils are as light as a feather! They that conquer are content! Their horses eat wheat from our granaries while ours rummage among ashes. But it is true, they have been fighting for some time. It’s not far to the Karkonosze passes and Bohemia from the River Bóbr. God willing, they’ll go home.”

“But for how long?” The miller from Marcinkowice grew annoyed. “After all, they know we’re weak and no match for them on the battlefield. They know that we’ve lost heart and have no one to lead us into battle! That the Silesian knights take to their heels at the very sight of the Hussites, flee like hares! Why, even the dukes flee! What did Ludwik of Brzeg do? He ought to have defended the town and his defenceless subjects. When he ground them down with taxes, they said: ‘Never mind, we’ll pay our hard-earned coin, but our good lord will defend us when the moment comes.’ But what did the good lord do? Fled like a coward, leaving Brzeg at the mercy of the invaders. The Hussites utterly plundered the town, burned down the parish church and turned the Collegiate Church of Saint Hedwig into a stable, the blasphemers!”

“And why doesn’t a lightning bolt strike them down, why doesn’t God’s wrath fall on them?” The barber-surgeon from Sobótka shook his head. “It is difficult not to doubt… Erm… I meant to say: God tries us sorely—”

“Gentlemen, you ought to accustom yourself to being tried,” said the Jew unexpectedly. “Oi, I tell you it’s only difficult at the start. One finally gets used to it.”