The King of Navarre paced back and forth across the room, the majestic Pyrenees framed in the large opening to a balcony. The austere King had no hanging tapestries or carpets to soften his echoing footsteps in the sparsely furnished stone hall. His palpable agitation was echoed in the nervousness of the midday church bells ringing out across the city, each a heartbeat behind the other, their clangings a procession of hesitant disharmony.

Prince Edward’s letter lay unfolded on the room’s only table. He stopped prowling, picked up the letter again as if to ensure he had understood the Prince’s request. There was little to understand. Give the King’s Master of War unhindered and safe passage into Castile.

‘You are familiar to me,’ said the King, the letter fluttering from his hand onto the table.

‘We met briefly, highness, when we fought the Jacquerie those years ago,’ said Blackstone.

‘Ah,’ said the King, not remembering. He glanced at the letter. ‘It would appear that your Prince sees me as a vassal of Aquitaine. Be under no illusion: I am not.’

‘There has been no such suggestion,’ Blackstone said, eager to soothe ruffled peacock feathers.

The defeated usurper ignored his assurance. Keen to impress King Edward’s trusted knight, he went on: ‘I am the rightful heir to the throne of France. My mother was King Louis X’s daughter and yet I am spurned and now defeated and condemned to live my life here. Had your beloved Prince aided me in my fight at Cocherel I would be more inclined to agree to his request. I am not in so generous a mood. You can find your own way. I care not. Feed and rest your men and horses for a day and be gone.’

It was a dismissal. Blackstone ignored it. ‘With respect, my lord. Prince Edward gave your army free passage through Aquitaine when Jean de Grailly led your troops against the French at Cocherel. I took their flank and kept the French from attacking their march. My Prince expects a similar courtesy.’

‘Expects? His request feels like a demand,’ said Navarre as he fingered the letter again. ‘I will give it my consideration.’

It was another dismissal. Blackstone ignored that as well. ‘Sire, I rescued three Navarrese soldiers and a Jewish physician who accompanied Lord Jean de Grailly. I have returned them to their home here in Pamplona. One lost his arm but would have lost his life if it weren’t for the Jew. I can’t use a man with such an injury but will keep the other two with me if you have no objection.’