They spoke in church, in front of the altar and the painting portraying—what else?—a soaring dove. But Reynevan had before his eyes the unfortunate Maifreda of Pirovano burning at the stake in the Piazza del Duomo.

“When do you set off?” she asked, now calmer.

“The morning after festum angelorum.”

“So we still have a few days.”

“We do.”

“And nights.” She sighed. “Good. Let’s kneel and pray to the goddess.”

On the thirtieth of September, in the morning after Saints Michael, Gabriel and Raphael, Rzehors and Bisclavret returned. Prepared for the journey.

Reynevan was waiting for them. Also ready.

Chapter Twenty-Four

In which the spirit of destruction—simultaneously the spirit of creation—returns, as it were. And Reynevan faces a choice.

In the few years of its existence, the Vogelsang had managed to create in Silesia quite an extensive and many-branched network of sleeping agents, so in principle the basis for its reconstruction was in place. The problem was that the wave of oppression passing through Silesia must have left its mark on the agents. Some of them, one had to fear, had died martyrs’ deaths and may not even have left any ashes. Some of those who survived—feeling the unrelenting presence of the Inquisition—might have fundamentally revised their views and come to the conclusion that they’d had enough of sympathising with Wycliffe and loved Huss much less than previously. Among the latter were also those who, of their own free will or under compulsion, had fundamentally modified their loyalties. Having switched their allegiance, they now waited for agents to report to them. And when they did, to inform on them at once to the relevant authorities.

Thus, contacting former agents always bore a considerable risk and could not be carried out without taking suitable precautions in advance. And there was no doubt it was a hundredfold easier for three to take precautions than two.

For over a month, Reynevan, Rzehors and Bisclavret roamed through Silesia—sometimes in the cold, wet autumn weather, sometimes in bright sunlight and gossamer threads. They visited plenty of places—beginning with large towns and cities, such as Wrocław, Legnica and Świdnica, and ending with villages whose full names were quite forgettable. They visited various people and reminded those various people—using a variety of methods and with varying results—about the vows of loyalty they’d once taken for the cause.