Edward’s reluctance was obvious. ‘Thomas, were it any man other than you we would decline such a request. However, it is a fair trade. He and his men are yours.’

‘I am grateful, my lord.’

Killbere shuffled. ‘Highness, may I speak?’

‘You have spent too many years in Thomas’s company to know restraint, Gilbert. You see the flaws already in this plan?’

‘This matter with Charles of Navarre. It makes no sense,’ said Killbere. ‘We have a treaty with France. Are the English involved?’

‘We are not.’

‘Then we are not to fight?’ said Blackstone.

The Prince leaned forward and indicated Spain. The different regions defined on the map showed the small but strategically important kingdom of Navarre squeezed between the sea and the kingdom of Aragon to the east and the greater kingdom of Castile to the south. Fewer than a hundred thousand souls inhabited Navarre, but its narrow border with the Prince’s Duchy of Aquitaine provided a gateway north into France for the ambitious Pyrenean king.

‘The French expect his troops to enter France further east where their southern army of several thousand are waiting to stop him.’

Blackstone’s instincts warned him. ‘Then you’ll let them travel through your territory, my lord.’

‘Yes. That is all we will do for him.’ He sat in the armchair and fidgeted with his cloak, tugging it across his legs. He looked at Blackstone, waiting for a further response. Blackstone knew there was more to be said. It made little sense for the Prince to help the troublesome King of Navarre. Why risk antagonizing the French? What would cause the Prince of Wales to take such a chance? The previous year Blackstone had secured the loyalty of the Count de Foix, by helping him beat his sworn enemy Jean d’Armagnac. The Count had then demanded a massive ransom on his defeated enemy. The victory and the wealth it subsequently brought had made the Count de Foix a more powerful lord than he had been before the battle, but at least he was no longer a threat to Aquitaine and the Prince. Blackstone ignored the Prince’s gaze and stepped to the fire. If the sight of the flames had helped the Prince order his thoughts then they might help him see the truth behind the Prince’s decision.

He looked into the smoke as a soothsayer might do, to divine the truth. It curled into misshapen faces as contorted as the politics of Aquitaine and France. Now there was a greater game to be played out.