‘Come on, Jack, let’s show these heathen bastards how an Englishman shoots a war bow.’

When they reached 230 yards they could go no further because of a drainage ditch where water flowed from one yard to another. ‘This’ll do. One target together.’

‘The middle one,’ said Halfpenny.

The Moors stood between the Englishmen and the targets. None of them moved. To shuffle clear would show cowardice.

Will Longdon and Jack Halfpenny nocked an arrow and in unison pulled and loosed. The inch-thick ash ripped through the cooling air and struck the target a heartbeat apart punching through the square target on the straw man.

The Moors raised their voices in appreciation.

*

Blackstone, Álvaraz and Killbere turned from where they stood several hundred yards away as the roar sped across the enclosed courtyards.

‘Trouble?’ said Killbere.

Meulon grinned. ‘I told Will the Moors were better archers. He’s either convinced them otherwise or they’ve got his head on the end of a pole.’

Killbere grunted. ‘It’ll need to be a thick pole.’

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

Will Longdon beckoned the two Moors to follow him over to where Blackstone stood with Killbere. Álvaraz was walking towards one of the Alcázar’s entrances. The two knights waited as Longdon ushered the men forward, despite their reticence.

‘Thomas, Sir Gilbert. These are two of their archers. They’ll benefit us. They don’t drink, which makes friendship difficult, but we’ll drink for them.’ He pointed to the first man, who clasped his hands respectfully and bowed. ‘This is Salam Lakum and I think this is his brother.’ The second man followed his companion’s gesture.

Blackstone addressed them. ‘As-salāmu alaykum.’

The men dipped their heads and spoke in unison. ‘Alaykum as-salām.’

Will Longdon looked from the men to Blackstone. ‘You know them?’

Killbere lowered his voice. ‘You damned village idiot. Tread carefully with these people. That’s their greeting. You wish them peace and they do the same.’

‘Well, you didn’t see them shoot. Peace isn’t their trade. We need Salam and his brother standing in line with me and the lads.’

Blackstone and Killbere stood in silence, unable to communicate with the two Moors. A man strode quickly towards Blackstone. It was the Moorish captain who had been saved by Will Longdon’s arrows when they faced du Guesclin’s routiers. His snapped orders had the two Moors retreat towards the butts.

The veteran archer called after them: ‘I’ll see you later. You can try some of my lads’ bows.’ The men didn’t turn around. Will Longdon looked at Blackstone and Killbere and the hawk-faced Moor who stood, hand on sword hilt, glaring at the stocky archer.

‘It is not permitted to go among my men,’ said the Moor.