‘Don’t matter. Give it to them.’ Halfpenny pushed forward Will Longdon’s hand holding the apple. ‘Smile. Tell them it’s a gift.’

‘I don’t speak their language.’

‘It’s how you say it. Pretend you’re paying a whore.’

‘Then I’d have a face on me as sour as last week’s latrine bucket.’

Halfpenny smiled at the fierce-looking tribesmen and nodded for them to take it. The two men accepted it and nodded their thanks, glanced at each other, said something and one pulled a fig from his robes. He freed a wicked-looking knife from his belt and cut the fig in half; then he then offered it to Longdon and Halfpenny, who studied the dark fruit.

‘It’s not an apple, and it’s not an orange,’ said Halfpenny.

‘Might be dried horse turd,’ said Longdon, looking uncertainly at the smiling Moor who gestured for him to eat.

Halfpenny took a bite. ‘It’s good. Try it.’

‘I’ve never liked foreign food. I sucked one of their oranges back in Burgos and my gums stung for a day.’

Halfpenny shoved what was left of the fig into his mouth and nodded his thanks to the two men who watched his greed. The one muttered something, but his companion admonished him. Halfpenny made light work of Will Longdon’s half.

Will Longdon pointed to one of the Moor’s bows; after a moment’s hesitation the man handed it to him. Longdon tested the pull. It was easier than the hefty pull on his own bow.

‘Short range. Eighty, maybe a hundred yards,’ he told Halfpenny, handing it to him so he could feel the pull weight.

Longdon bent his bow, nocked its cord and handed it to the Moor. The man studied its length – the bow was taller than him – and then he tried to pull it back, but managed only halfway despite his obvious strength. By now others had gravitated towards the four men. They passed Will Longdon’s bow among them. A couple of men almost managed to pull its cord to their chest.

‘A hundred-and-sixty-pound pull weight,’ said Longdon, warming to their failure. ‘Most of the lads have about a hundred and twenty or thirty, but me and Sir Thomas, we can pull the heaviest bows. I can pull more, truth be told.’

Halfpenny looked askance. ‘You know damned well Sir Thomas could pull more than any of us.’

‘They don’t know that, do they? You told me it’s how I say it that matters. Well, this is how I tell a yarn in an alehouse after a few jugs and everyone believes me, so they’ll get the idea.’