He couldn’t see Jutta. She was being kept on one of the covered wagons and not permitted to leave it. During the journey, the duke himself kept riding over and glancing under the tarpaulin. The Wallcreeper also looked into the wagon several times. Reynevan trembled with grim forebodings.
It was soon clear why they had stopped and more precisely why under the oak tree. Horsemen began to ride up and gather at the edge of the village. Knights in full armour with larger or smaller entourages of esquires, bowmen and servants. Hyncze of Borschnitz, the duke’s marshal, greeted the newcomers. Jan of Ziębice himself just pouted, tilting his head slightly to acknowledge the greatly respectful bows. Jan only awarded one of the knights with a little more attention. There was a green apple pierced by three swords on his shield, the coat of arms of the Füllstein family.
“Welcome, gentlemen.” Duke Jan finally deigned to speak. “I owe gratitude to the men you serve for sending you as envoys at my request. I also thank you for your trouble. Welcome to my lands. I welcome Opava and the Duchy of Głubczyce represented by Lord Füllstein. I welcome the Wrocław Bishopric and the town of Grodków in the person of Lord Starosta Tannenfeld. I welcome Wrocław, I welcome Świdnica.”
All those mentioned responded with bows. The envoys from Wrocław bore no devices, but Reynevan recognised in amazement one of them as the Raubritter Hayn of Czirne. Świdnica was represented by a knight bearing the coat of arms with the silver pike pole of the Oppeln family. The bishop’s envoy, Tannenfeld, Starosta of Grodków, had fastened to his saddle a shield with a green garland of rue on black and gold bars, an emblem resembling the coat of arms of the Ascanian dynasty.
Hyncze Borschnitz addressed the gathering. “My lords, you have no doubt guessed the reason His Lordship the Duke has summoned you. Czech heretics have invaded our lands once again. The town of Kłodzko is once again in danger. And once again, after taking Kłodzko, they will march on us. Thus, it is time to gather our forces. Make a stand!”
“The Hussites will not take Kłodzko,” said the envoy of Świdnica, Oppeln with the pike pole on his shield. “Sir Půta of Častolovice has reinforced the town and has a strong and valiant garrison. They shall not take it by treachery, either, for he has plucked out the Hussite spies like crayfish from a barrel. Now he has taken them for torture and is interrogating them one by one, having employed our Świdnica executioner. They say, ho, ho, that he has his hands full with the Hussites.”
“And owing to that we have good intelligence,” said Borschnitz, twirling his moustache. “We know much about our foe! Would you like to say anything on the subject, noble Lord Reibnitz?”
“Only that knowledge about the Hussites is neither secret nor only in your possession,” said the Wrocław envoy, Hayn of Czirne’s companion. “Everyone knows everything there is to know. They’re being led by Jan Královec of Hrádek, whom we’ve already met. He has under him two hundred horse, some three and a half thousand foot and two hundred wagons with firearms. I can guess what we’ll be deliberating over here. And I ask: are we able to muster a force capable of challenging him?”
“We shall soon find that out,” said Jan of Ziębice, “from you, noble gentlemen, since I presume you are sent here with good tidings. Thus, give me those tidings. In turn. You first, Reibnitz, since you’ve already begun.”
“Your Grace,” began Reibnitz, straightening up. “Please forgive me, but I ask, I do not talk. I, Jorg Reibnitz of Falkenberg, am a simple hired sword. I do what I’m ordered. And the gentlemen of the Wrocław Town Council ordered me to listen, not speak. So, I shall first listen to what the others say. For on the orders of the gentlemen of the Council, I must find out who among those gathered here means to battle the Hussites, and who prefers to parley and make truces with them as is customary.”
Füllstein of Opava flushed slightly but said nothing and raised his head haughtily. Jan of Ziębice pouted. Oppeln couldn’t restrain himself.
“What’s past is past!” he exploded. “And isn’t now! Świdnica proved it could fight the heretics, proved it more decisively than anyone standing here. Who routed the Hussites at Kratzau, gave that same Královec who today stands outside Kłodzko a hiding? We did! Lord Starosta Albrecht of Kolditz and Lord Deputy Starosta Stosz! The Świdnica knighthood fought at the Battle of Kratzau and slaughtered the heretical scum. Don’t tar Świdnica with the same brush as those who only fled from the Hussites!”
“Well said.” Duke Jan’s resonant voice rose above the hubbub. “Lord Oppeln has uttered good and weighty words and a weighty name. Kratzau, m’lords. Remember: Kratzau!”
“One Kratzau doesn’t make a summer,” observed Tamsz of Tannenfeld, Starosta of Grodków, who had been silent until then. “A month has passed since the battle, and Královec—though defeated—is again causing us problems at Kłodzko. Kratzau, I don’t deny, was a weighty battle, but we should see it rather as a stroke of luck.”
“Or,” said Reibnitz, “as a godsend.”
The knights guffawed. Oppeln blushed.
“I hear bitter envy!” he shouted. “You envy Świdnica and Lusatia their fame and glory. Lords Kolditz and Polenz went boldly into battle, heads and standards held high, in a mounted charge, like Richard Coeur de Lion at Ascalon, and since audaces fortuna iuvat, defeated the heretics in battle, cut them down, seized spoils and wagons and drove them out of Lusatia. And you envy us that! For your hide was tanned in the spring, when you fled from the Hussites like hares—”
“Heed your words,” hissed Hayn of Czirne.
“What, is it not true?” Oppeln stood with arms akimbo, not in the least disconcerted by Czirne’s furious expression. “Prokop burned down half of Silesia while you in Wrocław trembled in your shitty britches!”
Hayn’s cheeks flushed deep carmine and Jorg Reibnitz quickly restrained him, putting a hand on his spaulder.
“At Kratzau, Kolditz and Polenz fell on an overextended marching column made up in part of wagons so groaning with spoils they were barely moving. The sudden charge rent apart the Hussite array, they cut down the dismayed and panicked forces, giving them no time to load or use their arms. Otherwise it wouldn’t have been Ascalon, but Hattin. There would have been grief in Świdnica and not merriment.”
“And Świdnica and Lusatia deserve credit for that!” Lord Marshal Borschnitz laughed freely. “To ably exploit location, time, numerical advantage and circumstances and turn them to one’s advantage, striking the foe unexpectedly, surprising him with shrewd tactics… why, those are features of great leaders. Žižka and Prokop won victories thus; so, praise is due to the Lords Landvogts that they were able to give the Hussites some of their own medicine. I envy them that, I envy them their triumph and glory. And I am not ashamed to say it.”
“The victory at Kratzau,” added Füllstein, “breathed new resolve into us. Rekindled the hope we had lost. May God give us another like victory.”
“God shall,” proclaimed Jan of Ziębice, sitting up proudly. “And I shall. I shall lead you into battle against the heretics, to a victory that will eclipse the Lusatians’. I shall lead you, in sooth, to such glory that Polenz and Kolditz will be forgotten. They barely bruised Královec at Kratzau. We shall pulverise him. We shall make a heap from the Hussite carcasses and flay on scaffolds those we capture. This is what I offer you, your dukes, your starostas and your councils. To unify, to strike the Czechs as one and to celebrate Christmas with their demise. Who stands with me? And with what force? Eh? What says Wrocław? Świdnica? Opava?”