Zizka was a famous general in Bohemia who formulated the military code of conduct we use today. He also mounted light cannon on wagons that could be horse-drawn into a circle, forming a mobile fortress, much copied in the pioneer settlements of the US and South Africa, and enlisted women in his army. Zizka is also remarkable because he was completely blind and died, not in battle, but of the plague shortly before his last, and unsuccessful, battle. He is revered in Eastern Europe.
It seems to be morning. Anyhow, I’m awake. Is it light yet? That damned cockerel crows from dusk to dawn here. I can’t tell if it’s night or day half the time. My wounds ache more than before, especially my shoulder. I can hear Marek outside, moving about.
I never thought I’d come to Pribyslav again, and when we arrived last night I had the strangest sense of foreboding. Marek laughed at me, but I knew. No, something’s not right.
I am not myself. Somewhat feverish, I think. The fleas are terrible here; my legs feel as though they’re on fire with the bites.
“Marek! Where are you fellow? Help me find my things. Is it light yet? Give orders to Wladek not to take his men up to the border until I give the signal. Well, what are you waiting for?”
Bohemia is won – if the armistice holds. Moravia will be ours. But we have to fight strategically. Weigh up the odds. Think it through.
Damn these eyes! Soldiers think they can get away with anything when I can’t see what they’re up to. These are the same soldiers who disobeyed my orders when we took Nemecky Brod. All the time I tried to instil in them a code of conduct. If you fight your enemy and he is overcome by your troops and surrenders, you don’t put him to the sword. If you spare his life he may become your friend in time. If you kill him his whole family will be forever against you. Women who’ve served in my armies know this. They put away their cooking pots, stole the butchers’ knives and picked up any other weapons they could come across, simply to join us. And they came to fight in my army alongside their menfolk. Just picked up what they could find and walked out, leaving the kids with grandma. Wonderful strong, brave women! Dung forks and billhooks, even milking stools, make good weapons, if you give them to people used to handling them. Sigismund wasn’t banking on that.
We fought and won so many battles! I killed my share of Sigismund’s soldiers. I didn’t enjoy it but in war you have to fight. I don’t believe in torture, treating prisoners cruelly – that’s not for me. My men don’t need that. Our fight has been against Rome and the established order, with all its corrupt practices, and to avenge Jan Hus; not to kill Sigismund’s soldiers for the hell of it. Why should people have to buy pardons from Rome, when God punishes us anyway for our sins? I have done penance for my sins. At least I’m not corrupt. And I keep my word. The people believe in this cause; they’ve been with me all the way.
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