Alley of shame E-Book

Vlastimil Vondruska

• Herausgeber: WS
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 299

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Alley of Shame takes you into the dark heart of 16th-century Prague. Royal scribe George Adam of Dobronin becomes entangled in a web of intrigue and murder when he is approached for help by the secretary of a military captain and a well-known madam who owns several brothels in the Old Town. Who killed the brother of a powerful nobleman in a cheap dive near the city walls? What secrets are hidden within the walls of Prague’s palaces and the royal scribe’s own past? The investigation leads him into the dangerous corners of the city and pits him against formidable enemies. Can George Adam uncover the truth and protect those he holds dear?

Leseprobe

Alley of Shame

By Vlastimil Vondruška

Translated by Valerie Krammond

www.justgoodbook.com

Table of Content

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII

IX.

X.

XI.

XII.

XIII.

XIV.

XV.

XVI.

XVII.

XVIII.

XIX.

Epilogue

About the Author

Copyright

To my wife Alena

I.

It was a pleasant, balmy night that regularly comes after the feast of St. John the Baptist. Even though the New Town night watchman had long since sounded the midnight hour, there was no peace in Krakov. Peace was a rare commodity in this place, and no one here paid much attention to the city ordinance requiring all taverns in Prague to close at nightfall.

But that was always the way it was in the suburbs, especially in Krakov, as people called the poor district on the banks of the Vltava, just outside the walls of the New Town of Prague. Here stood the hovels of the underclass, dives, gambling dens, and the most wretched brothels one could find in Prague. While most of the suburban houses clung tightly to the New Town walls, the brothels were situated a bit lower, in a place mockingly referred to as the Alley of Shame. It wasn’t a proper street, but rather a cluster of two-story wooden shacks surrounding a dirty, untended open space, overgrown with weeds and shrubs. Behind the brothels, a gully ran from the tanneries to the Vltava, reeking of lye and rotting leather scraps.

Every respectable townsman avoided this place, and even the town guards preferred to steer clear of it. They only ventured here when the disorder became unbearable, and the townspeople living in the streets behind the walls lodged complaints. Then Reeve Gregory would have to conduct a raid with all his men. Some of the scoundrels would be imprisoned, and the worst of them hanged. Then there would be peace for a few weeks, and life would go on.

A man staggered out from the tavern crudely known around here as "In the Rear". Namely, because it was nestled in the gap between the city wall and a square bastion.

He was dressed in shabby, long-unwashed clothes that had once been blue. His name was Hrubesch, and he worked as an assistant to the knacker. He let out a loud belch and stared at the pale disc of the moon for a moment, then angrily shook his fist at it as if it were to blame for the fact that he no longer had a penny to his name, which was why the innkeeper had thrown him out. Then, with heavy steps, he continued toward the Alley of Shame.

At the edge of the alley stood a one-story house with a shingled roof that was in desperate need of repair. He was allowed to live there by the city, in return, he had the duty of clearing carcasses from the streets. These responsibilities ran from the Swine Gate to the New Town Hall in the marketplace. He did this job lazily and supplemented his income with petty theft.

He belched again. The beer he had drunk was making him feel sick. He was only a few steps from his door when a scream echoed from the Alley of Shame. First, a short male cry, followed by a shrill female one. Both voices quickly fell silent. The man in blue would have ignored them; it wasn’t his concern. But then, a naked prostitute appeared on the balcony of a house on the opposite side of the alley, screaming, “Murder! Help, murder!”

People began to pour out of the surrounding buildings, both the ladies of the night and their clients. The naked prostitute was desperately explaining something to them, and then the whole crowd rushed into the open doorway on the balcony. Hrubesch felt a strong urge to vomit. He still had enough sense not to soil his own doorstep. Stumbling, he took a few steps and rounded the corner of the shack. Just at that moment, three men came rushing toward him along the riverbank. Since it was even darker here than in the open space in front of the brothels, they didn’t notice him. A tall, well-built man who was leading the group collided with him. Hrubesch staggered and began to vomit. The well-built man stopped and angrily looked down at his vomit-covered woolen trousers. He cursed and reached for the dagger in his belt. The drunken knacker’s assistant turned to flee, but he stumbled and fell.

"Don't linger!" one of the man's companions shouted at the tall man with the soiled trousers. He gave him a push to keep him running. Shouts echoed from the darkness, and more people were running toward them along the gully. The small group left the drunken knacker's assistant alone and continued their sprint. As soon as the trio disappeared, a large crowd of men and women from the surrounding brothels rushed past Hrubesch. Many were nearly naked, and some reeked of beer and spirits.

Hrubesch was desperately sleepy. He tried to get up from the ground, but his head was spinning. He grasped something soft and held onto it tightly. He rolled off the narrow path behind a thick bush and fell asleep by the edge of the gully.

Before summer, most of the nobility would leave Prague and head to their estates. There were several reasons for this. The air in the city was not the best during the summer. The sewers smelled much worse than in cold weather, food spoiled quickly, and diarrheal diseases would break out in the suburbs. For many years, it had been a tradition in the Royal Chamber that the Land Offices would suspend work during the summer, and the officials were given time off.

Royal scribe George Adam of Dobronin was usually one of the first to leave Prague and head to his estate in the Highlands. He was a wealthy man and didn’t need to curry favor with his superiors like other officials. Moreover, he was under the protection of King Ferdinand I of Habsburg and his wife, Anna Jagiellon, because in the past, he had managed to solve several extremely complex crimes that could have jeopardized the good reputation of the royal family and the most influential land magnates. Since then, he had enjoyed a privileged position and knew how to make the most of it. He found investigations much more enjoyable than handling tedious paperwork.

This time, however, he did not rush to leave. He decided to stay in his house on Carp Street for a few more days, and only the Clerk Peter, with his wife Rosalie and their little son Wenceslas, would go to his estates. Clerk Peter had become his assistant, and George Adam of Dobronin, who had no family of his own, had accepted him somewhat as his son. They understood each other, and he also liked Rosalie, who took care of the house. He had met both of them under special circumstances during an investigation in Pilsen, brought them to Prague, and never regretted it.

"I would like to go with you," he explained sadly. He was an older, slender man with a short grayish beard on his chin and wrinkles around his eyes that gave his face a trustworthy look. He usually wore black clothing in a traditional Spanish cut and a small white collar around his neck. Despite being meticulously conservative and honorable, he wasn’t entirely truthful this time. He genuinely liked Peter and Rosalie, but he also cherished his peace and quiet. Since Christmas, when Wenceslas was born, he hadn’t had much tranquility in his house. He wanted to be alone for a while. He knew the child would be much better off in the countryside than in Prague, so he decided to stay in the city for a while and send them to his estates.

"I still have some urgent work to do," he continued authoritatively, "but don’t worry, I’ll come to join you in about two weeks."

"Shouldn’t I stay here with you?" Clerk Peter offered.

"Absolutely not! Rosalie needs you much more than I do. And little Wenceslas as well," he replied with a slight smile. Despite wanting a break from his assistants, he considered their happiness somewhat his own. Life didn’t offer many joys to aging people, and this was one of his greatest.

"Then at least leave old Jacob here with you," suggested Rosalie with concern. Jacob was the house steward, stableboy, coachman, and once even the cook. Ever since Rosalie had been living in the house, she had taken over the household and kitchen duties herself. That’s why she was worried about how George Adam of Dobronin, the royal scribe, would manage without any servants. But he refused this as well.

"My dear ones, I’m not as helpless as you might think," he defended himself cheerfully. "I can cook a few meals. Don’t forget, I’ve been a widower for ten years. There’s a good inn just a few steps away. And if I don’t like the food there, I’ll let my friends invite me over for dinner."

In the end, he convinced his assistants to stop worrying, and on Monday morning after St. John the Baptist’s day, he was able to wave goodbye to the cart in which they left him. For a moment, he hesitated, wondering if he had made the right decision, and when he stepped into the quiet and empty house, he even felt a pang of loneliness. He knew this feeling well from the days before Clerk Peter entered his service and brought Rosalie with him, but he quickly pushed such concerns aside. His decision was undoubtedly the right one.

In the kitchen, he cut himself a large slice of bread and then descended the worn stone steps into the cool cellar, which spanned two levels beneath the entire house. Judging by the weathered vaults, it must have been very old, dating back to the times when the House of Premysl ruled the land. The house had later been rebuilt into a comfortable residence, but the cellars remained in their original state. He headed to a niche where there was a shelf with large green-glazed pots. He removed the lid from one and spread a thick layer of lard on his bread. He loved this, but Rosalie used to scold him, saying that the only good food was cooked food. No, now he would enjoy himself for the next two weeks in his own way. He started back upstairs but couldn’t resist and took a satisfied bite right there on the steps.

He entered the hall with his mouth full. By the gate stood a handsome young man dressed in dark clothing, the kind worn by most officials serving in the Royal Chamber at Prague Castle. A rapier hung at his waist, signifying his noble origin. George Adam of Dobronin didn’t recognize him. He quickly swallowed and instinctively wiped his chin and beard with the back of his hand, a habit common among ordinary folk. He was surprised to realize that he would never have done this if Clerk Peter and Rosalie had been with him.

"Are you the noble George Adam of Dobronin?" the visitor asked cautiously. When the royal scribe confirmed, the young man hesitantly asked if he would accompany him.

"Where to?" George grumbled irritably. He cast a quick glance at his buttered slice of bread, wondering where he could set it down.

"Please, finish eating," the stranger continued sympathetically. "I was sent by Valkoun of Adlar, the secretary to the military governor."

"I thought he had already left Prague."

"He returned," the man at the door stated dryly. Then he bowed slightly and added, "I am the High Steward of his estates, and my name is Michael of Krinetz. I don't work in the Royal Chamber, which is why we haven’t had the honor of meeting yet."

Something about the way the man spoke didn’t sit right with the royal scribe. Beneath his politeness, George sensed a certain slyness, and perhaps even deceit. He slowly chewed his bread, thinking it over.

"You still haven’t answered me," he said between bites. "Where am I supposed to accompany you? To the Castle?"

"No, we’d be too visible there," Michael of Krinetz shook his head. "Just a few steps away. My master is waiting for you in a carriage around the corner. He didn’t want to stop in front of your house."

George Adam of Dobronin finished eating and then excused himself, saying he needed to go upstairs to his chamber for a cloak. He didn’t have to; the cloak he wore daily was hanging in the kitchen right by the door. He went upstairs for a different reason. He didn’t like the situation and wanted to arm himself. He quickly put on a second cloak, one he rarely wore. Then he pulled two pistols from a chest, checked that they were loaded, and ensured the powder on the pan wasn’t damp. He tucked the pistols into a pocket sewn into the inside of the cloak. He fastened his rapier and hurried back down to the hall. Michael of Krinetz was still standing in the same spot by the door.

They stepped out onto the street and headed toward the Old Town Square. But they only passed by The Blue Kingfisher Inn, then turned into a side alley that was a shortcut to the gate by the Stone Bridge. At the edge of the alley stood a closed carriage drawn by two gray horses. There was no coat of arms on the door. A man with a broad, weathered face sat on the coach box. George Adam of Dobronin didn’t recognize him either.

When they reached the carriage, Michael of Krinetz courteously opened the door and stepped aside so the royal scribe could board. However, George Adam of Dobronin did not hurry. He peered inside. Sitting on the seat was a man with a dark wide-brimmed hat on his head and a cloak with a high collar that covered his face. There was no coat of arms on his cloak either.

"Well?" urged Michael of Krinetz impatiently.

"Your face, please," firmly requested the royal scribe, subtly sliding his hand towards his pistols.

The man in the carriage leaned towards the open doors and briefly pulled back the collar. It was indeed Valkoun of Adlar. Only then did George Adam of Dobronin board. Right behind him, the steward from Zlonitz slammed the doors shut and the carriage set off with a jolt on the uneven cobblestones.

"Welcome," Valkoun of Adlar said dryly. He pulled the curtain over the window in the door and only then revealed his face. In his usual matter-of-fact manner, he continued, "You must be curious about what this is all about."

"I admit that I am, noble secretary. But since we are meeting like this, I assume it’s more of a personal matter than an official one. Otherwise, you probably would have invited me to your office," George Adam replied.

„Correct! Well… to a certain extent."

George Adam of Dobronin leaned back against the blue-cushioned seat. The carriage swayed gently as the coachman took his time, moving very slowly. From what George Adam could tell, they were heading toward Stone Bridge. He looked into the face of the military governor's secretary and waited. He knew him fairly well, as they occasionally dealt with each other in the Royal Chamber. George Adam of Dobronin was subordinate to the royal sub-chamberlain who was responsible for the affairs of the royal towns. Whenever the military governor wanted to quarter a unit of the royal army in a town, it was his secretary who negotiated it with George Adam of Dobronin. They always reached a reasonable agreement. The number of royal soldiers had been increasing in recent years, and with it, the importance of the governor's office. Summoning the traditional land levy, which was funded by the nobility, had become increasingly complicated, so the monarch began to rely more on his mercenaries to maintain order.

Valkoun of Adlar was a peculiar man in his own way. He wasn’t a member of the nobility; he was merely a knight, just like George Adam of Dobronin. Yet, he wielded considerable influence in the Royal Chamber and had access to the most powerful representatives of the land assembly. Even King Ferdinand I of Habsburg showed him favor. Many stories circulated about him in the Royal Chamber, but George Adam was never interested in gossip—he only cared about the facts.

"A rather unusual thing has happened," the governor's secretary continued hesitantly. Normally, he spoke decisively and curtly, but now he seemed almost shy. "I don't know how familiar you are with the matters of my family? Probably not. My wife, Mary, is no longer young and is childless. Although I have a younger brother, Phillip, I have no other relatives. It is through him that the glory of our family should continue. That is why I have always strived to ensure he received a good education, found a suitable bride, and secured a position at the royal court. But as you surely know yourself, even the most devout Christians cannot expect God to fulfill all their wishes."

"What has your brother failed to accomplish?" George Adam of Dobronin asked curiously. The way the military governor's secretary spoke intrigued him. He sensed disappointment, bitterness, and worry in his tone. He understood that the man was at a loss.

"My brother studied in Basel. For several years now, he has served as the governor of Salt Town county, where we have our estates. He has been successful in his role. That’s why the noble king agreed this spring to elevate our family to the nobility. However, he still has no bride, and our family has no heir or successor yet."

"Is he unattractive? Shy? Or perhaps not interested in women?"

"None of that. He is interested in women, sometimes too much so, and he is a handsome man. However, he has yet to find a woman with whom he wishes to spend the rest of his life. To put it in the refined language of the royal court, he is somewhat fickle. We’ve quarreled about it several times. I’m speaking frankly with you, as you can see, because he has disappeared."

"I understand, but I must stay in Prague. I cannot search in Salt Town county," George Adam of Dobronin protested. He knew of no more thankless task than searching for a missing bachelor, especially one prone to infidelity. Usually, such a man was found with some married woman, and instead of gratitude, George would end up being scolded by everyone involved.

"I could probably handle things in Salt Town county on my own," the military governor's secretary replied dryly. "He disappeared here, in Prague. And under extraordinarily strange circumstances. The day before yesterday, he left our palace in the Lesser Town. It’s located at the upper end of Vlasska Street, an inconspicuous building, but it serves our needs. However, he didn’t return. That wouldn’t have been too alarming, as it has happened often. But during the night, someone broke into the palace and searched both his room and mine. And in the morning, my steward discovered that someone had also searched my office at Prague Castle. Naturally, he summoned me immediately. That’s why I returned to Prague. No one knows where my brother is, as if he vanished into thin air."

"I understand," George Adam of Dobronin nodded. A quick glance out the window showed him that the carriage had crossed the river Vltava and was heading through the Lesser Town towards Vlasska Street. "Well, there are a few details I don’t understand. First of all, why the secrecy when you came to visit me? Is someone blackmailing you?"

"No one would dare," Valkoun of Adlar replied with undisguised smugness. But then, realizing his situation, he added dejectedly, "I’m worried about my brother. I’ll speak openly. The reason we’re meeting in secret isn’t because of him. I know you’re a man who can be trusted. Do you promise to keep everything confidential?"

"As long as it’s not against the interests of our noble king."

"You needn’t worry about that. Certain documents disappeared along with my brother. Very important ones."

"What were they about?"

"I’m not exactly sure. He didn’t show them to me. He kept them in a secret compartment in his room. But those intruders pried it open during the night. I fear those documents could harm our family if they fell into the wrong hands. Please, find them!"

"Why would they harm you if you don’t know what’s in them? Perhaps they’re just love letters."

"Nonsense! I know my brother! The day before I left, he drunkenly mentioned that nothing could happen to him as long as he had them. Maybe he was captured because of them. Perhaps they tortured him, and he told them about the secret compartment—who knows. But for God’s sake, do something!"

The carriage passed through a dark passageway and stopped in a small courtyard behind the Adlar family’s palace. It was surrounded by high walls, and no one could see it from the outside. Michael of Krinetz opened the door and extended his hand to help them out.

II.

"Well, this is my brother's room," said Valkoun of Adlar as he stopped at the threshold of the chamber, accompanied by George Adam of Dobronin. The room was in incredible disarray, everything was turned upside down, chests open, and items scattered across the floor. The straw mattress was slashed, and even the padding of the upholstered chairs had been gutted. "Everything is just as it was. My housemaster didn’t clean up anything," added the captain’s secretary.

George Adam stepped inside and carefully surveyed the scene. From experience, he knew that the mess left by thieves could reveal a lot about them, as each mess was unique. This one appeared systematic at first glance. This was not the work of ordinary thieves, not the kind who occasionally plunder abandoned noble estates. The person who inspected the room did so with skill and knew exactly what they were looking for. This thief was an expert. As George Adam of Dobronin noticed, a pouch of money lay under one of the chests.

"When those unknown individuals were searching the chamber in the night, they must have made some noise. Didn’t anyone notice anything?" He turned to Valkoun of Adlar.

Valkoun remained standing by the door, not eager to enter. He shrugged and explained, "Most of the servants left with me. That night, only my housemaster was in the palace, but his bedroom is on the ground floor on the opposite side. Apparently, he had a bit too much to drink and fell asleep as soon as he lay down. And his wife, Margaret, is hard of hearing. Besides them, there were three other servants, but they sleep in the servants' lodging in the courtyard. Otherwise, the house was empty."

"Is this cabinet in the wall with the pried-open doors supposed to be a secret hiding place?"

"Yes, normally there is a painting in front of it so that no one notices it. But don't think it's as simple as it seems at first glance. Look," explained Valkoun of Adlar as he headed towards the hiding place. "My brother showed it to me once, that's why I know. When it opens, you'll see a shelf. That's the one lying there on the floor. There were money pouches there. My brother joked that even if someone discovered the hiding place and pried open the doors, they would only take the money. But if you pull out the shelf and press the hidden button on the side, the back wall will open up to reveal another hiding space. You see, it's open and empty now. That's where the documents were."

"In that case, the thief must have known this place very well. They must have known about this sophisticated hiding spot. Did your brother often have visitors?"

"How should I know? He didn’t confide in me, and I didn’t keep an eye on him. I often sleep at the office. I have a fairly comfortable chamber next to my office so that I can be at the captain's service at any time. He’s a conscientious man, almost a pedant, I’d say. Sometimes I don’t even show up here at the palace for a whole week. You see, my wife spends most of the year at our estate in Zlonitz. She likes it there."

"Your brother is the governor of Salt Town county. The affairs there must have taken up a lot of his time. How often did he stay here?"

"Often," replied Valkoun of Adlar, and then fell silent. He said it in such a way that there was no need to add anything else.

"I see. But what about his office in Salt Town?"

"My brother has a capable secretary who stands in for him. You’ve seen him yourself."

"Michael of Krinetz? I thought he was the High Steward of your estate and your privy."

"Yes, he is that as well."

George Adam of Dobronin could easily interpret this answer. It was clear that through him, the captain's secretary also managed the affairs of the Salt Town county. The stories about Valkoun's brother excelling as an official were clearly not entirely accurate.

"You say the thief searched your chamber and even the offices at Prague Castle," the royal scribe changed the subject after a moment of thought, rubbing the short graying beard of his chin. He originally did this more for effect. This trick distracted the people he was interrogating, which always gave him an edge. Over time, he had gotten used to the gesture and mostly did it unconsciously.

"Certainly, I’ll show you those rooms," offered secretary Valkoun.

"Was anything taken from them?"

"Nothing.”

"Then it's a waste of time," George Adam declared. "But let's ask ourselves why the unknown person searched your chambers as well?"

"I have no idea."

"You claim he was looking for your brother's documents. If he had found them in the secret hiding place, he would have taken them and disappeared. But it seems he didn’t find them. That’s why he started searching other rooms, even though it meant risking being caught. I can't think of any other reason."

"You may be right. But please consider that I also keep various confidential documents with me."

"Did you take them with you to Zlonitz?"

"Most of them, yes."

"Does that mean you lost some as well?"

"It seems so. But they’re not important. However, the thief couldn’t have known that."

"Yet you just told me that you didn’t lose anything."

"No money, paintings, carpets, or furniture were taken. Do you understand? I have so many documents that I don’t even know how many there are. But as I said, I took the important ones with me. So, if the thief took any of my papers, it would be something like a report on how much oats the royal horses consumed or a price quote for making new helmets," Valkoun of Adlar explained somewhat stiffly.

"Do you believe that the thief could have found and taken your brother's confidential documents, but independently of that, also searched for you?"

"It seems almost certain to me."

"Then he must have had an idea of what he wanted to steal."

"Not necessarily. He may have just taken advantage of the fact that I had left Prague."

"Let's suppose so. But then we must ask, what about your brother Phillip? If those thieves kidnapped your brother and made him reveal his hiding place, they would have found what they were looking for. Since your brother is still missing, there’s only one reason for that."

"I fear the same," Valkoun nodded matter-of-factly, as was his habit. "Nevertheless, I ask you to investigate as if he were still alive."

"Even if it defies logic?"

"Hope always dies last! I will reward you handsomely for your help, whether you find him alive or dead. However, the condition is that you find those documents. You will inform me of every step you take. It is of utmost importance!"

George Adam of Dobronin nodded and scrutinized the seemingly kind face of the powerful captain's secretary. He understood that Valkoun didn’t really care about his brother, despite his words about fearing for the future of his family. That, however, meant that Valkoun must know more about the documents than he was letting on; otherwise, he wouldn’t be so eager to find them. And the question also arose as to why he had hired George Adam for the job if the documents were so confidential.

Your instructions are fairly clear. So let's speak openly," the royal scribe suggested.

"You want those documents. Very well. But then you must tell me more, otherwise I have no hope of finding them. Please acknowledge that it’s impossible to track down documents when you have no idea what they contain. At least some clue, a hint. I will be honest as well. I do not believe everything you’ve told me so far."

"You express yourself with admirable directness and a certain degree of ruthlessness," Valkoun of Adlar frowned. "Amongst the documents in my brother's secret hiding place, there was also a pile of letters that could be dangerous to certain noble ladies. That could ruin their husbands, who are mostly prominent noblemen. They were love letters. Don’t ask me for the names of my brother's lovers, I don’t know them. However, I can imagine, to protect their honor, those betrayed husbands would be capable of doing much more than what has already happened. Is that enough?"

"No! That’s only part of the truth," the royal scribe objected. "Anyone interested in compromising love letters would certainly not be concerned with your documents. Even if they didn’t find the letters here. That means there must have been other documents in the hiding place, and those most likely pertained to the Royal Chamber.”

It is said about you that you are an exceptionally sharp investigator, and your thoughts only confirm that," Valkoun of Adlar nodded stiffly. "But beware, you are playing with fire!"

"Why did you ask for my help if you are now threatening me? Should I only look for those love letters?"

"I am just warning you. It would sadden me if something happened to you. Even though I did not receive permission, I will tell you everything."

"Permission from whom?"

"From my master, military governor Georg von Lokschan. He is the one who sent me to find you. In my brother's hiding place, there was also a red envelope with the coat of arms of the House of Lokschan. You will recognize it easily. The coat of arms is divided into four fields, with two fields empty, and in the other two, side by side, are a half eagle and a half lily. I mention this just in case, as my master has only recently acquired this coat of arms, and you may not be familiar with it. King Ferdinand I of Habsburg enhanced his family’s coat of arms because he intends to appoint him as Imperial Vice-Chancellor. But that is still a secret."

"Do these documents relate to the promotion?"

"I truly don’t know. Perhaps. My brother stole the envelope from his office when he visited me a week ago."

"Did anyone see him during the theft?"

"Unlikely, otherwise he wouldn’t have left Prague Castle with it. However, he later approached the noble captain and demanded a certain favor in exchange for its return. I really can’t tell you more. Just know that the noble Georg of Lokschan had no hand in his disappearance. I advise you, once you find that envelope, leave it sealed. Under no circumstances should you open it or look inside! I’ve already told you more than I should. Is it clearly understood that after all this, you cannot refuse the job?"

“I understand," nodded George Adam of Dobronin. "Anything else?"

"I will give you my trusted hand - Michael of Krinetz, he will accompany and protect you. He could sleep in your house, which is empty, as I have noticed."

"Don't you think you're going a bit overboard with this?" George Adam snapped angrily at him. But in reality, he was curious to see how the host would react.

"It will pay off for you!" Valkoun of Adlar shrugged indifferently. "Let's not argue over trivial matters!"

As he said this, the benevolent expression disappeared from his face.

George Adam knew how things worked in the Royal Chamber and had no illusions about finding support anywhere. Considering the military governor's secretary clearly knew that his friends had just left Prague, he had to take into account that they could be harmed. This is just to force George Adam’s compliance. It was a precarious situation, undoubtedly involving something significant and exceptionally dirty.

Michael of Krinetz walked alongside the royal scribe down Vlasska Street towards Stone Bridge. He looked extremely respectful and remained silent.

Even George Adam of Dobronin remained silent.

Only when they arrived at the Lesser Town Hall did the High steward from Zlonitz humbly ask, "Will you tell me where you will start your search?"

"How am I supposed to know?" George Adam snapped irritably. "I need to think everything through first."

"I apologize, but you don't have much time for the search. I hope my master told you about an unpleasant circumstance. This matter must be resolved by Sunday when the noble lord of Lokschan intends to leave for Vienna. Today is Monday."

"No, your master seemed to have forgotten to emphasize this detail."

"That's why I'm here, to help you. If I may suggest, I would first visit a few taverns around here. Young master Phillip had a habit of going out every evening for a jug of wine. He liked to mingle with the townsfolk. Once, he told me that he learned more things there than he did in noble society. You see, he’s a bit of an unusual man, almost as if he enjoyed the company of the lower classes."

"Just to clarify, townsfolk aren’t exactly the lower classes, are they?"

"They aren’t nobility. But Phillip of Adlar didn’t make that distinction. And when I say he didn’t mind the lower classes, I mean he would even stop for a chat with a vagrant or a beggar."

How do you know this?"

"He was often accompanied by the housemaster. By order of Sir Valkoun, of course."

"Phillip didn’t mind?"

"Sometimes he did," Michael of Krinetz admitted openly. "If he had his whims, he always managed to disappear. He was exceptionally deft at that. Our housemaster is a bit of a heavy-set man, and he often chose not to report it to our master. When Valkoun gets angry, it's better to stay out of his way. By the way, I advise you to do the same. If you want peace, listen to him. And if something doesn’t go as planned, don’t provoke him unnecessarily."

"Why are you telling me this?" George Adam smirked. He had already noticed that Michael of Krinetz spoke with a feigned familiarity and sometimes too much.

"I want to help you, of course," his guide responded with surprise, then pointed to the door of the tavern they were approaching. "How about asking here? I’ve been here several times with Phillip."

"Isn't it pointless?"

"It’s not," Michael of Krinetz replied, with a peculiar urgency in his voice, so George Adam decided to follow his lead.

When they entered, George Adam of Dobronin looked around with satisfaction. It was a respectable establishment, clean, with solid furniture. The patrons were mostly wealthy Lesser Town merchants and craftsmen. As soon as the innkeeper noticed the two newcomers in the dark attire of royal officials, he hurried over to them respectfully, bowing. He led them to an empty table in the corner, clearly reserved for such visits. To his disappointment, however, Michael of Krinetz only ordered two small jugs of wine and declined any food.