The boy’s voice had become stronger since telling Blackstone his story. ‘He did not help my Queen. There are places in Castile where even He does not venture. I have seen a raven land on a cow’s back and curdle its milk.’

‘The mind conjures fear, my boy. It takes pleasure in fooling you into seeing something that is not there. I know, I have been afraid for most of my life and at times I feared dark forces had seized my mind.’ They reached the lower stairs. ‘But the benevolent warmth of the Almighty, no matter what name we call Him, that sunlight penetrates the darkness and lifts a man’s spirits.’

Lázaro helped him down the final steps into the passageway. ‘There is evil in Castile and I wish Sir Thomas would leave me here. I don’t want to go back.’

Halif ben Josef followed the boy towards the beckoning daylight at the end of the passage. ‘Here? What safety is there among the French? The English Prince rules but cannot protect you here. He has hundreds in his court so even if he gave you shelter, you would still not be safe. Anyone can be bribed. And if not in the palace where else? There are street urchins who will slit your throat for those clothes Beyard purchased for you. My advice is stay with your protector. Captain Beyard is your shield and Sir Thomas is your sword.’

They stepped into the day’s glare. Blackstone and his men were waiting. The bastard horse swung its head and glared at him. Ben Josef felt its displeasure.

‘We thought you had fallen asleep,’ said Killbere.

‘I lost track of time,’ said the old man.

‘You can manage a horse? There’s no wagon. We ride at a pace.’

One of the men strapped the satchel securely to the horse as Lázaro cupped his hands as a stirrup for ben Josef.

‘Once I am wedged in the saddle, Sir Gilbert, I am as unmoving as Moses when he held aloft his staff and parted the Red Sea.’

Killbere gathered his reins. ‘Aye, well, if you have any such influence you can part the tide of our enemies who wait ahead.’

*