My brother brought my nephews to visit us in Prague, which left us struggling for ideas. After all, how do you entertain a teenager and a pre-teen? It's not as if you can do what everyone else does in Prague - drink beer. A visit to the medieval tortuure museum went down a treat, but the crowning glory was the medieval tavern.
Designed to milk money from unwary tourists, there are several mock medieval taverns to be found in Prague. To be fair, they do provide a good evening's spectacle. From the drummers and pipers to the beer-serving wenches, from the firebreathers to the multilingual duelling footpads, my nephews' eyes were wide with delight. As were mine, until they asked me why the restaurant was called At the King of Brabant.
An innocent query, delivered tongue-in cheek, Had they never heard of the Sons of the King of Brabant?, and their ingenuously negative responses, really landed me in it. For the next three days, I scrambled to interweave a credible tale of derring-do with what I knew of the history of Prague. I scraped a pass mark from that rather critical audience, and then thought Maybe I should write this down?
And so The Devil's Bible was born.