When the killers left, panic seized him; he ran, careering down the spiral stairs, pressing his back against the rough stone walls as voices echoed upward: the killers as their horses galloped away. Part of him yearned to return to his dead mistress, to cradle her, hope rising that she was not dead. But he brushed it aside. He was so close to her when she fell that he’d seen her life slip away from her eyes. Pulling his shirt and jerkin higher to obscure the rosary, he waited at the stairwell. There was a small gate nearby; he would use that for his escape – but where to go? When the assassins realized that one of the Queen’s servants had survived they would look for him. There were no sentries. The castle seemed deserted. The main gates remained open. Venturing into the courtyard he ran for the gate, but horsemen thundered on the approach road from the town. He recognized Iñigo Ortiz de Estúñiga, the captain who had devotedly guarded the queen. The boy ran but was easily caught. He struggled, but the soldiers held him with ease.

‘Lázaro,’ said de Estúñiga, ‘Look at me.’ He grabbed Lázaro’s shoulders, forcing him to cease struggling. ‘We could not stop it but I refused to be a part of it. I defied the King.’

Tears of anger and grief choked the boy.

‘They will find out they left you alive. I will help you escape. You must run and never stop running and you must tell no one what you know.’ He rubbed a thumb across the boy’s face to clear away the tears. ‘Did you see who did the killing?’

Survival instincts tightened every sinew in Lázaro’s body. He shook his head. His fist curled around the Queen’s ring.

For a moment it seemed the young nobleman doubted the boy’s answer. ‘Good. We will get you to the coast and then... then we will face our destiny. I will pray the Virgin Mary protects you.’

Years of servitude had conditioned Lázaro to answer respectfully. ‘And I will pray for you, my lord.’

Iñigo Ortiz de Estúñiga smiled. ‘Bless you, child. I am protected by my family’s standing and will return to their estates but you must understand, Lázaro, you in comparison are nothing more than a fly to be squashed by the King. Better to cut out your tongue than ever speak of this. I save you only because the Queen held you in as much affection as I did her.’

‘It’s time, my lord,’ called one of his men. ‘They’ll soon be here under the pretext of finding her.’