Shortly after their fight, they left the forest and finally saw a silhouette of the castle Trosky in the distance. It was so distinctive it couldn't be mistaken for anything else. In a nearby village, they asked for directions again, just to be sure, and then headed off to their destination. Henry kept one eye on the road and glanced at the castle as often as he could. Then the road led them back into the forest and the castle was hidden behind the trees. Eventually, the forest ended and the view that opened before them made Henry stop in his tracks. He sat in the saddle, staring with his mouth open. A quick glance at Capon confirmed the young nobleman was gawking just like him. Henry was glad for that.
Two massive rocks grew from the hill in front of them and a tower rose on each rock. In the space between them stretched a fortification formed half by a natural rock and half by a stone wall. The roofs of some of the castle's buildings protruded behind it. It was really an impressive sight.
"The gate is probably on the other side," remarked Henry after a moment, to break the silence.
"Hmm… what?"
Henry turned to Sir Capon and saw that the initial astonishment on his face was replaced by somewhat unhappy expression. It wasn't hard to guess what was on Capon's mind.
"Sir –" he began, but Capon interrupted him:
"You don't have to comfort me anymore, Hal. This was my last weak moment." He took a deep breath, then smiled at Henry. "Up to the lion's den!"
Henry laughed a little uncertainly, went after him and wondered what exactly Capon meant by that statement. But he didn't ask.
On the way, they passed a village straight below the castle. Henry noticed that it was very busy and there was even a tavern. Not that they intended to visit it. They had agreed that it would be most sensible to stay away from drinking. In addition, their pouches were much lighter then they should have been.
Then they climbed up the road that wound around the hill on which the Trosky stood. Before long, they stopped at the gates. Two guards blocked their path. There was no open hostility in their stance, only professional vigilance. One of them asked about the reason for their visit.
Capon straightened in the saddle and put on his best haughty expression. "I am Hans Capon of Pirkstein and I come here as a messenger of Sir Hanush of Leipa. I bring a letter which I may personally hand over only to your master, Otto von Bergow."
Capon's tone of arrogant superiority left no room for doubt as to whether he really was the nobleman he claimed to be. Still, Henry saw that the guards were hesitant and scrutinised them for a long time. Eventually, they stepped out of the way.
"You may pass, sir. But we can only let you into the first courtyard. Here, you have to wait for the burgrave to decide what happens next."
Capon just nodded in response and then passed through the gate to the castle proper. The courtyard that opened in front of them was smaller than Henry expected. A covered well stood in the middle and wooden buildings were pressed against the walls all around the perimeter, shrinking the entire space even more. On the right were stables and on the left was a two-story building. One of the guards disappeared in there.
Henry and Capon dismounted and looked around curiously. Henry's eyes were mostly glued to the towers. They looked even more enormous up-close and he couldn't imagine how they could have been built by human hands. His eyes wandered several times to the guards on the walls. Several men there clutched loaded crossbows and watched them warily. A chill ran down Henry's spine, and he involuntarily tried to hide among the horses before realizing that wherever he stood, the guards would always see him because of the height difference. His movement didn't escape Capon.
"I noticed them, too. I can almost feel the bolts burying into my back. But we can't show weakness now!"
So Henry straightened up and looked the guards straight in the eye. Some looked away while others weighed their crossbows significantly and grinned at him. He was quite relieved when the burgrave finally appeared. But it turned out to be a bit premature.
The warden of the castle introduced himself as Pavel of Turnov and began to question them again about the purpose of their visit. Well, to question Sir Capon to be more precise. He glanced briefly at Henry, then promptly lost interest. He frowned during Capon's explanation and finally asked for the letter. He wanted to examine it in order to verify the authenticity of the seal.
"I am afraid I cannot give it to you. Only to Sir Otto himself," refused Sir Capon and frowned as well.
"And I'm afraid I can't let you go to him, sir."
The burgrave's reluctance to treat Capon with the respect he was due obviously irked the young nobleman. Henry saw him tense and decided to intervene.
"May I suggest something, sir?"
Capon and the burgrave turned to him.
"And who is this?"
"Henry, my squire and bodyguard," Capon introduced him.
The burgrave looked as if he smelt something unpleasant, but motioned for Henry to continue.
"Sir Capon will hold the letter for you so that you can see it clearly, and then you can verify everything you need," said Henry and bowed a little to placate the burgrave.
Henry once heard that you could recognize a good compromise by the fact that all parties were equally dissatisfied, and it was no different in this case. Both the burgrave and Capon agreed with his proposal, but neither of them looked enthusiastic and the only consolation for them could be the knowledge the other was feeling the same.
After a moment of careful examination, Pavel of Turnov waved his hand and Capon hid the letter again. The burgrave then studied them for a long time. Henry saw his gaze stop at Capon's bruise, already turning an interesting shade of blue and green, and hung on his own lip which he knew for sure was at least double what it should be. The burgrave had just opened his mouth and took a breath to utter his verdict when, suddenly, Henry heard the clatter of hooves and a loud call, and a group of riders entered the courtyard.
The man in front could be none other than Otto von Bergow himself. His hair was already gray, but he sat straight in the saddle. Henry would guess him closer in age to Sir Divish than to his own father. However, the second rider soon caught his attention, and he froze in surprise. He would recognize that face anywhere. Markvart von Aulitz sat on a horse next to Bergow.
The burgrave also turned to the horsemen and, seeing his master, went to greet him. And that was lucky indeed because he couldn't see what was happening behind his back. Henry stood petrified for a moment. He didn't notice anything around him, he only had the hated face before his eyes. Then, he suddenly recovered and threw himself to his horse where his sword hung at the saddle. He was about to pull it out when Sir Capon caught his hand.
"What possessed you, Henry?" he hissed in a whisper.
"That bald bastard next to Bergow – he killed my parents!" growled Henry and jerked his hand. Capon gripped him even tighter.
"What do you think you are doing? You draw your sword and they'll shoot you!"
"Fuck that! I must get him before he slips again!"
Henry let go of the sword to free his hand more easily. But before he could do anything, Capon tripped his legs and tugged his hand. As Henry staggered the young nobleman sent him to the ground with a well-aimed kick.
Henry flew headlong between the legs of the pack-horse. The animal neighed, stood on its hind legs and one of the bundles on its back crashed to the ground. Henry managed to roll aside at the last moment before the huge hooves hit the ground where his head was just a moment ago. All conversation in the courtyard stopped. Henry was slowly picking himself up from the ground, but didn't dare to raise his head. The initial surge of blind fury subsided and he realized with horror what he had just done. The horse beside him was still snorting and shifting uneasily, so he grabbed its bridle.
"And who is this?" came a voice. Henry had no doubt it belonged to Otto von Bergow. This was immediately confirmed by the burgrave.
"My lord, this man here claims to be certain Hans Capon of Pirkstein coming to you with a message from Sir Hanush of Leipa."
Henry moved his head slightly and looked out of the corner of his eye. He didn't see much, as his own horse obscured his view. Otto von Bergow had obviously dismounted and now he was approaching them with the burgrave. Only their legs were visible. Sir Capon stood a short distance in front of him and then bowed as courteously as Henry had ever seen him.
"Sir, I come as my uncle's messenger. He sends you a greeting and respectfully asks for an answer to a letter I am to give you."
Bergow didn't answer immediately. He stepped closer to Capon and studied him.
"Capon from Pirkstein? Son of old Jeshek?"
"That's right, sir."
"I met your father once, young man. Very well, I'll read what your uncle has on his mind." Then Otto von Bergow looked directly at Henry who quickly lowered his head and tried to bow as best as he could.
"My bodyguard, sir," Sir Capon hurried to aid him.
The lord of Bergow laughed, "Well, I do hope he is more skilled than it seems."
Henry felt his cheeks flush. He gritted his teeth and stared at his shoes. Sir Capon laughed as well, but it sounded weak and unconvincing to Henry's ears. But it seemed they were out of the fire for the moment.
Otto von Bergow turned to the burgrave. "Master burgrave, have the room prepared according to the guest's wishes." He then said to Capon, "You seem to have timed your arrival extremely well, young sir. There will be a feast tomorrow in honor of my other guest. You are invited, of course. I just hope that you will not only behave like a nobleman but also look the part. Even my grooms are cleaner than you." Then Bergov nodded politely at Capon and left.
His departure woke everyone up from the stupor and a bustle broke out in the courtyard. Henry finally dared to straighten up properly and noticed that Sir Capon was standing with his eyes closed and moving his lips silently. He seemed to be praying. When Henry approached him, the young nobleman opened his eyes and glared at him.
"Come on," he said with gritted teeth and went after the burgrave who was waiting nearby.
Henry followed him silently, and, in his mind, he was already making apologies. It was clear to him that once they were alone he would get a scolding. Then, as they followed the burgrave to the other courtyard, he looked back one last time to make sure their horses were taken care of. And his eyes met those of Markvart von Aulitz.
"Of all the stupid peasants you are the dumbest of them all!"
Henry stood silently, with his head down, terribly ashamed. He stuttered his apology, as soon as the door to the room closed behind the servant that had brought them there. But it seemed to have just flown around Sir Capon's head as he continued to rage. As he took a breath for the next round, there was a knock on the door, and then other servants entered, bringing them the things they had left with the horses.
Henry and Capon were silent until the servants left again. Then, Sir Capon sat down heavily on a bench by the wall and hid his head in his hands.
"I'm sorry, Henry. I guess overdid this. But I was really scared down there."
"No, I'm sorry, sir. You're absolutely right, I'm such an ass." Henry shuffled his feet uncertainly, but then, with two quick steps, he moved and sat down on the bench next to Capon. "When I saw that bastard, my mind just went blank. I didn't even know what I was doing."
Capon lowered his hands and looked at him. "Who is it, anyway?"
"Markvart von Aulitz."
"What?! The commander of Sigismund's army?"
"The very same. I wonder what is he doing here…"
Capon just shook his head, "If it's really him, you're an even bigger ass than I thought."
"I know."
The next moment, they sat in silence. Henry thought of his parents and his last day with them, here on earth. About how his mother had treated him after he had fought with Kunesh. How he and his father – Martin (he still didn't know what to call him) – had forged the sword for Sir Radzig – father. About everything he had never managed to tell them, and now it was too late. His thoughts inevitably led him to their last moment, which made him angry again. He clenched the edge of the bench. And then Sir Capon's hand touched his shoulder.
"Hal, you'll get that fucker one day. I just beg you – don't do something rash."
Henry smiled gratefully at him, then forcibly chased away the thoughts of revenge. For now.
"I hope no one noticed what we did in the courtyard. We've already been embarrassed by our looks alone," he said, cringing.
Capon chuckled grimly, "So let's try to make a better impression from now on, right?"
They both got up and went to make themselves presentable again.
A quick wash and a change of clothes later, they were waiting in front of the castle lord's office. He had sent for them to hand him the letter before dinner. Well, he had only asked for Sir Capon, specifically, but they had both decided that, as a bodyguard, Henry was supposed to accompany him everywhere until someone explicitly forbade him to do so.
"How do I look?" hissed Capon at him.
"Like a nobleman," replied Henry in a whisper and then sniffed. The smell of mud was just an indistinct memory.
And then the door opened and a servant motioned for them to go inside. The servant then disappeared and left them alone. After an initial exchange of courtesies, Otto von Bergow motioned for Capon to sit down. Henry stood by the door, seemingly forgotten and a bit offended. He took comfort in the fact that at least he had not been ordered to leave.
Otto von Bergow reached out, "Well, Sir Capon, let's have a look on what you've got for me."
Capon handed him the letter and then shifted uncertainly, as if he didn't know whether to stay or leave. Bergov must have noticed it, too, because he remarked:
"Just stay seated, young sir. I may have questions later." And then he leaned back and started to read.
And he read for a long time. Either he wanted to read the letter really carefully, or he couldn't read very well – Henry had no idea. But he was sure that if Bergov didn't speak soon, he would jump out of his skin. Then, he became aware of some tapping and realized it was his shoes and he had been unknowingly bobbing up and down on his toes. He was mortified and mercilessly knocked his heels together.
In the ensuing silence, he soon heard another sound – a strange rustle, which wasn't made by the parchment in Bergow's hands. He looked around discreetly to trace the origin of the sound. He noticed that Sir Capon's arms were moving strangely, and he realized that he was probably wiping his hands on his trousers. He must have been as nervous as Henry. And for a good reason. This was exactly the situation they wanted to avoid.
Bergow seemed interested in nothing but the letter, but Henry was still afraid he might hear them and wondered how to stop Sir Capon's nervous tic. In the end, he couldn't think of anything better than pretending to have a fit of coughing. At first, nothing happened but when he kept at it, Capon finally turned to him. Unfortunately, at the same time, Otto von Bergow also raised his head.
While Capon stared at him, somewhat worried, Bergow frowned. Henry felt himself blush again, but this time he could at least pretend it was caused by the coughing and not some stupid thing he did. The lord of the castle then pointed to a jug standing on a table by the wall and told him to pour for them all. Although Henry was quite embarrassed, he was glad he had something to do. His hands barely shook as he poured. And he achieved his goal. Sir Capon grabbed a glass of wine and the rustling stopped.
Henry wanted to return to the door with his own glass, but Otto von Bergow made it clear he was well aware of what was going on in the room, as he waved his hand again. This time to a chair next to the table with the jug. Henry sat down quickly, trying to make himself inconspicuous again.
And then, finally, Bergow finished reading.
At first, he said nothing, just put the letter down and looked out of the window. It seemed to Henry that he closed his eyes for a moment, but this supposed moment of weakness lasted so briefly that he couldn't be sure. Then Otto von Bergow addressed Sir Capon:
"Sir Capon, are you familiar with the contents of this letter?"
"Only in outline, sir. I did not write or read the letter itself."
Henry knew that was not quite true, because Sir Hanush and his father had tried to prepare them both for their task as best they could which included telling them what they had actually written. But neither of them really read the letter itself, that much was true.
"Even so, you certainly understand that the issues mentioned here are indeed serious and cannot be commented on without careful consideration. I am afraid the answer will take me a few days. However, you will remain my guest as long as necessary," said Otto von Bergow. Then he looked at Henry and added, "Your squire, too. Is he of noble origin at all?"
Henry was taken aback a little by Sir Otto's interest. But then he realized that he had already drawn attention to himself twice in a not-so-flattering way. Sir Capon hesitated with his answer, apparently he didn't expect such question either.
"He is, sir," he replied at last, "but only from his father's side."
"Really?" replied Bergow. "Come closer, young man, and introduce yourself to me," he turned to Henry.
Henry crossed the room and bowed, "My lord, my name is Henry."
"Just Henry? Where are you from and who is your father? Speak," urged Bergow, and it sounded almost like an order.
Henry was drenched in cold sweat and, for a few moments, he desperately wondered how much, or if at all, he resembled his real father and what the hell was he supposed to say. In the end, he gathered all his strength, searched his memory for all the posh ways of speaking Capon taught him and replied:
"My lord, I beg you, do not ask this of me. Talking about my father is always a painful reminder of what could have been. Unfortunately, our Lord willed it to be this way." Then he looked down and tried to look sad, his heart pounding in his chest so much he was sure the others must hear it.
"The young ones today! Being an illegitimate child in my time of youth was no shame. But so be it, I will not press you, Henry. Keep your secret, for now. It matters little." And Sir Otto waved at him to sit down.
Henry bowed, a gesture of gratitude, under the impression that a bow could only improve matters, and sat down again, relieved. Otto von Bergow then turned his attention back to Capon.
"Well, back to our conversation, Sir Capon. As I have said before, you are not my only guest. At present, a certain Markvart von Aulitz also abides here in this castle – do you know who he is?"
"Yes, Sir Otto."
"Good. I do not know your political views – we will get to that later – but I consider it necessary to emphasize that I will not tolerate any violation of the laws of hospitality under my roof," Sir Otto warned him and then cast a meaningful glance at Henry.
"You can rest assured, sir," replied Capon.
Henry mentally applauded Capon, because there was almost no trembling in his voice. He himself swallowed nervously. It seemed his foolish display in the courtyard did not escape the attention of the lord of the castle.
"Very well, then. That will be all, you may go. And do not forget, you are both invited to the feast tomorrow."
Henry jumped to his feet first and bowed deeply. Sir Capon followed him, and they would have surely managed to leave with dignity had they not collided in the door. Fortunately, Henry realized in time whose rank was more important and let Capon go first. As he closed the door behind him, he saw Otto von Bergow shaking his head.
On the way to their room, none of them spoke, but as soon as the door closed behind them, Sir Capon grabbed his head.
"Hal, we are so screwed, aren't we?"
"Well, I don't know, sir, it could have been worse, couldn't it?"
"I suppose… we wanted to make a better impression, but I guess it didn't work out so well. What was your coughing supposed to mean? You just drew unnecessary attention to yourself."
Henry was proud of how he controlled himself not to bark at Capon. Instead, he remarked in a quite calm voice, "I was hoping to distract you, sir. You were rubbing your hands on your trousers…"
"I most certainly didn't do that," said Capon.
"You did," said Henry.
Capon frowned for a moment, but then just shrugged, "If you say so. But tell me now – have you ever been to a real feast before?"
Henry had to admit he hadn't.
"In that case, we have a lot of work to do," sighed Capon and began to introduce Henry to the secrets of courtly dining.
They were interrupted by a servant who brought them dinner on a tray and conveyed an apology from the lord of the castle for not inviting them to his table today. The reason being the grand feast to be held the next day and therefore requiring much preparation. Henry was glad he didn't have to show up in front of Sir Otto again. It had been quite enough for one day.
"A grand feast. Let's hope it won't last for days," remarked Sir Capon.
"Wait, sir, you're joking now, right?"
"Not at all – but I guess this one probably won't be that long," Capon added hurriedly when Henry shot him a doubtful look. "However, the most lavish feasts and banquets at the royal court can actually last several days."
"I can't imagine that. It's not even possible to eat for so long… and where do they get so much food? After all, there has been a crop failure for several years in a row and there is hunger in the country and… " Henry noticed that Sir Capon was looking at him strangely and fell silent. He realized that this was another thing that revealed the gap in their origins. He doubted that Capon had ever gone to sleep hungry.
The young nobleman just shrugged, "I'm sorry, Hal, I don't know what you want to hear from me."
"Neither do I," sighed Henry and then changed the subject. "Why don't we go for a walk? I'd like to check on Jenda."
Capon agreed and so they went. It was quite far from the residential palace to the first courtyard, and neither of them was sure about the way. But a willing page led them where they wanted to go. The horses lacked nothing and as Henry and Capon were currently in clean clothes, they didn't want to stay in the stables for too long. For a moment, Henry toyed with an idea of doing something to Markvart's horse but, in the end, he dismissed it. He would have felt sorry for the animal, anyway.
Then he and Capon admired the high towers again.
"I wish we could climb one of them. There must be a great view from there," dreamed Sir Capon. "But they surely won't let us in there."
"I'd miss that one out," replied Henry. "Do you see the wooden stairs there, on the rock? I have goosebumps from just looking at them. I couldn't possibly step on them. It's so high and looks rickety."
Capon laughed but then, suddenly, fell silent. Henry looked back at him, and Capon, with a slight nod, indicated where to look. A large group of men had just passed through the gate connecting the first and second courtyard. The colors on their tabards belonged to Otto von Bergow, but here and there the colors of Sigismund also appeared.
Henry tugged gently on Sir Capon's sleeve, and they both casually got out of the way. Several men looked at them but without much interest. From the snippets of conversation, Henry figured they were off duty and headed to the tavern in the village below the castle.
"They're right at home here, aren't they? Them who belong to Sigismund, I mean," frowned Sir Capon. "I think I already know what Bergow is going to tell us."
"I guess nothing that would really surprise us." Then Henry lowered his voice. "That bastard Markvart is surely here for the same reasons as us. Sigismund is checking that he still has the support of the League of Lords."
"It's so unfortunate for us to be here at the same time as him."
"The unfortunate one here is that bastard. I swear I'll get him!" shouted Henry, forgetting where he was.
Capon grabbed his hand, outstretched in a threatening gesture, and began to drag him away.
"For God's sake, Henry, shut up already!"
And Henry obeyed without further ado.
Back in their room, Sir Capon finally released him. But that wasn't the end of it.
"Hal, did you sit on your ears today? Are you tired of life? Loose control like that a few more times and it will end badly for you!"
Henry didn't even try to count how many times he had already felt like a complete idiot today. When Sir Capon, of all people, was the one to preach about self-control!
"What are you going to do tomorrow when you have to be in the same room with him all day?" The young nobleman continued, "Look, I promise we'll come up with some plan to get rid of him together. But you promise me that you will compose yourself. It is not like you to loose control like that."
Henry knew Capon was right. And, in a way, he was actually trying to support him.
"I promise, sir. I will really try. I won't even look at him," he said with conviction. "But if I may – that speech is not like you either. Where is so much wisdom coming from all of a sudden?" he teased, and had he dared, he would have stuck out his tongue. But since they had been talking about self-control just a moment ago… He tried to appear serious.
Capon stared at him until Henry began to worry he had put his foot in his mouth again. But then Sir Capon snorted, "Obviously, we have to add blindness to your bad qualities. Otherwise, you would've noticed long ago that it is an innate wisdom, and therefore it's been here all the time." He, too, tried to look serious and maintain a haughty tone but it didn't last long, and they both laughed.
Soon after, they decided to go to bed. And then Henry realized a problem he hadn't thought about until then. There was only one bed in the room, and it was clear to Henry who would get it. He scanned the bench under the window, then the fur in front of the empty fireplace and sighed. Maybe it would be more comfortable in the stable.
Sir Capon must have guessed what he was thinking, because he stopped undressing and looked at the bed with a searching glance.
"You can sleep there with me."
"What?" Henry couldn't believe his ears.
"I said you could sleep in the bed with me," Capon repeated louder. "It's big enough for both of us. And if my dogs can occasionally sleep with me at home, I don't see a single reason why my friend couldn't sleep with me either."
Henry hesitated. Was it appropriate for a subject to climb into a bed with his lord? Even though said lord had just called him a friend. Somewhat distractedly, he realized that this was perhaps the first time he had heard it said aloud from Capon.
"Henry, stop thinking about it and come to sleep. And that's an order. Otherwise you would stand there till morning. And don't worry, there are two blankets."
Blushing, Henry murmured thanks, hurriedly undressed and slipped into the bed. He still remembered the debacle in Kuttenberg. But the bed was really wide, and both of them were very careful not to touch with a single part of their bodies. Still, it took him a long time to calm down. His last thought belonged to his father – Sir Radzig. Before they left, he told him to be thoughtful and restrained. So far, he had succeeded in being the exact opposite. He decided to be really careful from then on. So that his father could be proud of him when he returned. And then, he finally fell asleep.
That night, Sir Radzig and Sir Hanush sat in the banquet hall in Pirkstein. The servants were given a leave again, and full jugs of wine were slowly but surely emptying. Both gentlemen drank mostly in silence, persistent and determined, as if hoping to find some solution at the bottom of the pitcher.
"I don't know, my friend, it doesn't seem to help me in any way," said Radzig, and he had to concentrate a lot to make his heavy tongue obey him.
"Me neither. Instead of feeling cheerful, gloom falls on me." Hanush also spoke slowly and with exaggerated care. "They must have arrived today, right?"
"If there weren't any delays…"
The two of them sighed, drank, and there was silence for a moment. Then Hanush muttered:
"Enough of this whinging. I got a letter today. Good news!" he added in a stronger voice.
"Really? Pray tell." Radzig perked up.
"I've found a bride for Hans," announced Hanush, looking extremely pleased with himself.
Radzig blinked in surprise. "I didn't know you have been looking for one. Isn't he too young to get married?"
"If he's old enough to chase every skirt that looks at him, then he can get married, damn it!" said Hanush, accompanying his words with a slam of his fist on the table. "Besides, his mother have been sending me a letter every month to make a move and finally do something."
Radzig caught an empty cup which overturned and rolled to the edge of the table, refilled it and offered another one to Hanush.
"I admit you're right, Hanush. Who is the lady?"
"Her name is Jitka of Kunshtat. Very nice dowry. The bride herself is very pretty, or so I am told, but you know… that's what they say about every single lady."
"Kunshtat? From Moravia?"
"The very same. She comes from the main lineage. A very advantageous alliance. Everything's been arranged. They've confirmed that they would arrive within a month. The wedding can be soon after."
"In that case, a toast to your success, my friend."
Their cups clinked and they emptied them to the bottom. Then Hanush topped them up again.
"This deserves at least one more," he said. After they drank again, he continued, "What about Henry? Aren't you going to marry him off, too?"
"I think I'll leave that to him. There would be no noble bride for him, anyway," said Radzig, grinning. "Besides, it wouldn't be worth the fight. Have you thought about what Hans will say when he finds out?"
An expression of horror flickered on Hanush's face and then he groaned, "Blast it! This was supposed to improve our mood! Now I'm back where we started."
"Well, we should do something about it," said Radzig and reached for a new jug.
When they met the next afternoon, they swore that had really been the last time they had drunk so much.
AN: Somewhat bigger chapter. They are much bigger in English than in Czech. I suppose it's all those articles. We don't have them.
Rant about writing in English number two: Those commas! The rules for placing them are quite different from my native language. I've read some articles about where to put them, but I struggle all the time. I think I understand the basics but still... I hope I'm not butchering it too much.
Anyway, we are roughly in half. I don't know when the next chapter will be ready - real life is knocking on the door again. But I hope to be finished with the story by the start of May.