‘They were. Three came into the castle, most likely to reconnoitre its defences,’ said Blackstone, obscuring the truth. ‘I and some of my men followed them back.’

‘Then there is a traitor.’

‘It could be anyone. Someone who serves the High Steward or even a merchant willing to buy their safety,’ said Blackstone and glanced at the door. ‘Like they’re doing now. I need to be in that room.’

‘You have no authority to be in there, Sir Thomas. The council and the merchants are discussing the city’s fate with the King.’

‘Álvaraz, if there’s an insurgency here you and I will be all that stands between the mob and the King. I need to know. And so do you.’

The Spanish commander looked uncertain but then nodded. He turned and opened the door wide enough for Blackstone to squeeze through without his entrance being obvious to those in the hall.

Blackstone stayed on the other side of the thick door. His presence went unnoticed as the inflamed passions of the city fathers bore down on the seated Don Pedro. Sayyid al-Hakam stood behind the chair, two Moorish soldiers with him. There was little doubt in Blackstone’s mind that if the emotions became any more heated the temperamental King need only nod at the Moor for these merchants to be massacred. One man raised his arms and called for the others to settle down. His voice became more strident and the men finally quietened. From what Blackstone could see by the men’s dress they were a mixed group of Muslims, Jews and Christians. Their businesses and wealth a common faith.

The High Steward nodded, giving permission for the man to speak.

‘Most gracious lord,’ the spokesman said, bowing low, arms extended. A Muslim trader wearing silk robes beneath his woollen cloak. ‘Your ships carry our goods from the river at Seville and the ports of Castile to and from the Islamic world and Christian Europe. We trade from Cairo to Cordoba. As we speak, lord, I have a cargo waiting in Cordoba to load on my galley on the River Guadalquivir. I have news the vessel has been seized on your command. Friends here: men who have camel trains loaded with silks and spices from the East dare not bring them to Seville or any other city for fear of what approaches. We are, merciful lord, in your hands. We beg you, do not abandon the city. There is money enough here to pay an army. We sell Sudanese gold to merchants travelling to Tunisia and Sicily and beyond: it can pay men like those who are already in the city. The Englishman can find more men like himself. Why would Castile abandon its riches? And its people?’