Killbere remained silent; then he glanced back at Lázaro who rode with Beyard. ‘We should let the boy find a home. He’s too young to be riding with us, Thomas. If he has identified no one from the court, and by now he’s seen all of Don Pedro’s people, then surely there’s no longer any threat against him.’

‘You’re forgetting Ranulph de Hayle. He still seeks the boy, and that means he is being paid by someone to do so.’

Killbere cleared his throat and spat. ‘Thomas, we ride with a murderous, excommunicated King who employs pagan Moors, robs his citizens and keeps a demon witch at his side and likely in his bed. If this adventure does not drag us down into the bowels of hell then I will forsake women for a month by way of thanks.’

‘Gilbert, such an act is against nature and would unleash unknown forces.’ He spurred his horse. ‘Better we fight in hell.’

*

The servants were hard pressed to keep up the pace but on that first day it was important to put as much distance as possible between Burgos and the enemy approaching the abandoned city. It was already dark when torchbearers, riding ahead under a leaden sky, bereft of moonlight, reached a small town. Servants prepared the King’s quarters in the church and secured a farmer’s barn for Velasquita. Everyone else pitched tents, lit fires and posted sentries. Blackstone walked through the camp, seeing that his captains and men had the food promised by the High Steward. As he circled the camp, looking out into the darkness where an enemy might approach, he sensed rather than saw a movement in the depth of shadows beneath a cliff’s overhang. Wolf Sword was in his hand when he challenged the unseen figure.

The sky’s dull glow was sufficient for Blackstone to make out the features of Sayyid al-Hakam as he stepped forward into the night.

‘As-salāmu alaykum,’ said the Moor, keeping distance between him and Blackstone should the Englishman lunge forward with his blade.

‘I don’t speak your language,’ said Blackstone.

‘I greet you in peace, Sir Thomas.’

The Moor had made no attempt to draw a weapon and Blackstone’s instincts told him the man was alone. He sheathed Wolf Sword. ‘You lurk in shadows like your mistress.’

‘I serve the King.’

‘You do as you are bid by those who do the bidding.’

The Moor’s teeth flashed white in the darkness. ‘And you serve your own desires, Sir Thomas. The King would not take kindly knowing you sleep with the woman who also offers him comfort.’

‘If it were true then you should tell him,’ said Blackstone. ‘And see what comfort that brings you.’

Al-Hakam dipped his head. ‘I see you know that Don Pedro does not like to hear bad news.’

‘And I see you desire to keep your head on your shoulders.’