“Thus.” Prokop straightened up and looked around, indicating he wasn’t only talking to the gunner, but to the others as well. “Thus, please don’t rush, don’t be hasty, don’t waste powder—”

“Are we just to wait outside these walls?” Jan Kolda asked with audible disapproval. “Stand idly by?”

“Who said idly?” Prokop said, leaning against the stockade. “Brother Jaroslav!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Has Flu—Has Brother Neplach finally sent his Stentorians?”

“He has,” confirmed Jaroslav of Bukovina. “Ten of them. Ugly buggers all… They stink so foully of booze and onions they could knock a big man over. But they have wonderful voices…”

“Then send them to the walls to yell. Day and night. Particularly at night, it works best at night. Does Lord Bořek have children in Kolín?”

“A daughter.”

“Have them shout about the daughter, too. And you, Brother Kolda, since you don’t like to stand idly by…”

“Yes, sir!”

“Take your cavalry and patrol the villages on both sides of the Labe. Warn the locals one more time that if anybody tries to supply food to the town, they will sorely regret it. If we catch anyone with even a single scone, with even a single sack of kasha, we’ll cut off both their hands and both their feet.”

“Yes, sir, Brother Prokop!”

“Get to work, then. Back to your men, I won’t keep you any longer… And you, Brother, why are you still here?”

“We could fire the large bombard…” grunted the gunner beside the cannon. “Just one more time… Before evening…”

“I knew you’d not bear it.” Prokop sighed. “Very well. But first come with me, I’ll inspect your position to see what you have your cannons trained on. Greetings, Scharley. And greetings to you, Brother Bielawa. Come with me. I’ll soon devote some time to you.”

Reynevan was racking his brains trying to figure out how they had met. Prokop the Shaven and Scharley had appeared already to know each other at that first meeting at Shrovetide in 1426, in Nymburk, to where their company was sent from Hradec Králové. Who knows if it hadn’t saved all their lives, when first the Hradec Králové Warriors of God and then the ones from Nymburk, who were seeing spies and provocateurs everywhere, were becoming ever more suspicious and ill-tempered? Invoking Peterlin and Horn hadn’t helped, since it turned out they had been such secret collaborators that their names didn’t mean much and offered no protection. God only knew what would have happened if Prokop hadn’t appeared. He didn’t fall on Scharley’s neck or greet him effusively, but it was obvious they knew each other. How remained a secret that neither of them was inclined to explain or discuss. It was known that Prokop had studied at Charles University and at foreign schools. Reynevan assumed he had met Scharley during one of those journeys.