"They killed them all?"
Vondra nodded solemnly. "All of them in the Great Církev. Between Vladislav's betrayal of the true Strelecs, and the confrontation with Mysl Agáta... a single day was all it took to end the line of Strelecs, unbroken since the time of Gert. Eighty-three men died, both true and apostate. Maybe half that number were away in other cities, plotting other blasphemy. The Warrant of Apostasy fell on these, too. When Tvůrce withdrew his Blood Gift, they fled civilized lands. Few were ever seen again."
Jachym thought for a moment. "Were you... were you in the Great Církev with the Mysl?"
Vondra laughed loudly. "I look that old to you? Oh, Jachym, my vanity'll never be a problem with you around!"
Jachym reddened, ducking his head.
Vondra touched his hand gently. "Jachym, no. You didn't offend. I love your innocent honesty."
He tensed at her words.
"No, I wasn't there. The Schism happened ten years before my time. There are a handful of Tsukrs and Knězka who witnessed those days, but they're very few these days. And the Knez are fewer still. They are old men, Jachym, most older than your Knez Borivoj, and when they die there will be no more."
I'm worried that most of this chapter will ultimately end up in the Big Info Dump In The Sky. There's lots of explanation on parade, but more cryptic questions will manifest shortly. Ah well, that's what first drafts are for, right?
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