Killbere nodded. Will Longdon’s creased grimace said it all. ‘And there was another bloody hawk. My guts churned. I thought it heralded bad tidings, but Thomas said different, didn’t he? Said it was there to help. And by God no sooner had the damned thing screeched like a castrated cat than the villagers swarmed out of the forest. Truth is without them we would have been crow bait. That and a few bolts of silk.’ He hawked and spat. And then he grinned. ‘Balls of iron and a few well-aimed arrows saved the day.’

*

Moors guarded the King’s tent. They raised a hand to stop Blackstone from entering and called out for the High Steward. When his voice from inside gave Blackstone permission to enter, the sentries stepped aside.

Don Pedro was studying a map; the High Steward stood to one side. Al-Hakam was pointing out a route to the King when the two men stepped beneath the tent flaps.

‘Sir Thomas?’ said the King, without looking up. Only the High Steward and al-Hakam gave the two men their attention.

‘My lord,’ answered Blackstone. He was not prepared to deliver what news he had until Don Pedro was obliged to raise his eyes. Blackstone’s silence did the trick.

‘Well,’ Don Pedro said. ‘You have returned, which means something happened, or you saw the enemy. Which is it?’

‘There were hundreds of villagers retreating from the routiers—’

‘I have no interest in them,’ the King interrupted. ‘What of du Guesclin? Did you see him?’

‘Saw him and was ready to engage, highness,’ said Álvaraz.

‘Ah, but you are alive, Álvaraz, so you did not engage. That makes me think you betrayed me.’

‘No one betrayed you,’ said Blackstone. ‘We avoided a fight.’

‘The great Master of War refusing to fight?’ Don Pedro smirked.

‘We fooled them into thinking our numbers were greater than they were,’ said Álvaraz. ‘Were it not for Sir Thomas they would have massacred our small force and slain the villagers.’

Don Pedro settled into a chair the High Steward positioned in place. A brazier burned nearby. The King stretched out a hand to its warmth. ‘Your orders were to draw the routiers away from here.’

‘There was no need,’ Blackstone said. ‘If du Guesclin had fought us, it would have slowed them down by only a few hours.’

‘And those hours are vital to me,’ said the King.

‘You would have lost Álvaraz and his men as well as mine and you will need every man who will rally to your cause. They were riding for Burgos. Calveley is already there.’ Blackstone paused. ‘So too your half-brother.’ He let the news sink in. ‘By morning you will no longer be King of Castile. They will crown Henry of Trastámara.’