“On behalf of Wenceslaus Przemkowic, His Lordship the Duke of Głubczyce and Hradec,” said Füllstein, quickly, as though afraid of being interrupted, “I pledge five score lances of Opava knighthood. His Lordship the Duke will lead the army himself.”
“Bishop Konrad will field his entire regiment,” said Starosta Tannenfeld after brief reflection. “Reinforced by regiments from Grodków and Otmuchów. Seventy lances all told.”
“The city of Wrocław,” said Jorg Reibnitz with arms akimbo, “will send a hundred and fifty mounted men. What of Świdnica?”
“The town of Świdnica contributed much to the victory at Kratzau,” Oppeln proudly declared. “Since His Lordship Duke Jan promises a victory to eclipse Kratzau, Świdnica will have to be there. We won’t let ourselves be so easily overshadowed or erased from the pages of history. Świdnica will field a hundred and fifty horse of peerless cavalry under the command of Lord Deputy Starosta Stosz. All of Świdnica would gladly see the Hussites obliterated. First, though, perhaps His Grace Duke Jan would explain to us what method he means to employ to execute this.”
“Firstly, by using main force,” Jan of Ziębice countered at once. “From what you’ve said, I reckon our number at some one thousand horse, of which three hundred are heavy cavalry. Královec has four thousand foot and barely two hundred horse. And since a knight is worth ten wretches on foot, the advantage lies with us. Secondly, we’ll tackle them as we did at the Battle of Kratzau. We shall strike the marching column with a surprise attack. Having first ascertained that they are marching into our trap.”
“And how shall we do that?” Oppeln raised an eyebrow.
“We have the means.”
The croaking and banging of the large wallcreeper against the window of the chambers in Nysa Castle of Konrad, Bishop of Wrocław probably surprised the bishop. But the Wallcreeper, to be honest, was probably the more astonished of them. Surprisingly, Konrad wasn’t indulging in an orgy, drinking or gambling. Nor was he sleeping off an orgy, drinking or gambling. No. He was reading. Spending his time with a book.
After entering, the Wallcreeper quickly metamorphosed into human shape. He glanced at the book lying on the lectern and shook his head, quite amazed. Not only was it a beautifully illuminated Bible, it was written in German, to boot.
“I know why you came—or rather flew—here,” said Konrad, Piast, Duke of Oleśnica, Bishop of Wrocław and legate of King Sigismund of Luxembourg in Silesia, taking the Wallcreeper aback. “But you needn’t have bothered. I decline your request.”
“Today is the twenty-second of December Anno Domini 1428.” The Wallcreeper sat down and reached for a carafe on the chest of drawers. “On the seventh of November 1427, thus a little over a year ago, here, in this castle, in this chamber, I petitioned, and Your Eminence the Bishop promised me—”
“His Eminence has changed his mind.” Konrad of Oleśnica cut him off. “And has done so ad maiorem Dei gloriam. Reinmar of Bielawa has become a vital pawn in the game, and the stakes have become fucking high. What were you expecting? That I’d give you Bielawa so you could torture him to death? For some vague personal reasons? I’m aware that we once had plans regarding him; he was to be used to cover up the affair of the attack on the tax collector. But now the good of the Church and the country demand something else. I ordered you to collaborate with Duke Jan in the search. I gave Jan permission to enter the convent in White Church. Ha, he’d probably have entered anyhow, since the convent is on his land and the abbess is his sister, but that’s neither here nor there. What matters is that Jan of Ziębice is launching a truly great expedition. If the operation is successful—and it has every chance of being so—we shall give the heretics a severe blow, one they haven’t hitherto suffered. Do you grasp this, Birkart, appreciate it? First the thrashing at Kratzau, and now the drubbing that Jan of Ziębice will soon treat them to. The myth of the Hussites being invincible in battle will evaporate. Other men will follow our example. It will be the beginning of their end. Their end, my son. I was at the Battle of Prague in 1420, at Sigismund’s coronation. I looked from the Hrad at the city, lying in wait across the river like a fierce dog. And when I left that place, I vowed I’d return one day. That I’d see—with my own eyes—that dog’s teeth being knocked out, that entire heretical nation being chastened for its crimes. See blood pouring down the streets of that vile town; see the Vltava running red. And it shall be thus, so help me God. And a significant step towards that is Jan, Duke of Ziębice. And the military strategy that I created and Jan will execute. The plan has to succeed. God wishes it. And I do, too.
“Thus,” the bishop said, straightening up, “I categorically forbid you from any action that might thwart my plan. Or even complicate it. Jan is holding Reinmar of Bielawa in a dungeon in Ziębice Castle. I forbid you from taking a single step towards that dungeon, I forbid you from talking to Reinmar, I forbid you from laying a single finger on him. I forbid you categorically and absolutely. I know you’re a sorcerer, a polymorph and a necromancer; I know you passed through walls to get to the prisoners in Wrocław. I know of what you’re capable and what can be expected from you. But I warn you: if you don’t comply you will bring down my wrath upon you. And then you’ll learn what I am capable of. Do you understand, Birkart, my son? Will you obey?”
“Do I have a choice? Father?”
The bishop puffed angrily. Then snapped the Bible shut and placed a goblet on the cover. And poured spiced Burgundy into it.
“Just between us,” he asked a moment later, quite calmly, “why did you need Bielawa? It can’t just be for the pleasure of revenge and murder? What did you want to get out of him, what did you need from him? What was it? Ha, you probably don’t want to say… Or reveal the details. But perhaps just in general…?”
The Wallcreeper smiled and it was a particularly hideous smile.
“If you want to know in general,” he drawled through his smiling mouth, “why not? I wanted to drag out of Reinmar of Bielawa information that would lead me to one of his companions. And I would have wrung further information out of him, acquiring in the process a little knowledge. General knowledge. Among other things, whether the book you were just reading, Father Bishop, is really what it is usually considered to be, or whether it isn’t worth any more than the fables of Ezop Fryg.”
“Fascinating,” Konrad said after pondering the Wallcreeper’s words. “Fascinating, indeed. All the same, my orders remain in force. Ad maiorem Dei gloriam. And we’ll return to the fables in better times.”
The Wallcreeper flew down from the battlements of Nysa Castle and tumbled over, blown by the strong wind coming from Rychleby. He levelled out, croaked and glided off into the night, flying towards the Ślęża massif. But not to Ślęża itself. Ślęża was for amateurs, for dabblers, a somewhat trivial and rather overrated stage for witchcraft. The Wallcreeper was flying to Radunia, to its elongated peak. To a broad stone bank and a magical rock resembling a catafalque lying in the centre. A monolith that was there when mammoths were striding over the Sudeckie Hills and huge turtles laying eggs on the present-day island of Piasek.