‘A wise choice, my lord,’ said the High Steward with a hint of relief.

‘God willing that bridge is held, Sir Thomas,’ said Don Pedro.

‘We will buy you time,’ said Blackstone as Velasquita faced him, careful that no one else could see her raised eyebrows and triumphant smile. ‘You take Álvaraz and your Spanish troops and Sayyid al-Hakam’s men. We’ll hold the bridge.’

The Moor lifted his sword blade an inch and slammed it back into its scabbard, enough to make everyone turn towards him.

‘My Lord Pedro, we cannot do as Sir Thomas suggests,’ he said. ‘The French and their mercenaries must think you are among us. We should keep your pavilion and your banner and I and my men will stay behind with the English. The enemy knows that where we are then so too are you. Better that Álvaraz and his men ride as escort.’

‘Master al-Hakam, you have light cavalry,’ said Blackstone. ‘You’re ill equipped to fight so many.’

‘And you, Sir Thomas, have even fewer men and yet you will stand your ground. Do you not see the truth? Where the King’s royal guard is, then that is where the King would be. We stay.’

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

Velasquita refrained from showing she had any association with Blackstone. The King’s jealousy would have made him defy her advice, and then his desire for death or glory, whether imagined or real, would have made him stay and fight the fast-approaching Bertrand du Guesclin and his army.

It was an hour’s ride from their camp to the River Esla and, as they clattered across the Roman bridge, she slowed her mount while the King and the courtiers galloped on. Blackstone drew alongside. Her cape’s hood fell back from her face.

‘Thomas, remember your promise and come to me.’

‘If I live.’

‘You still don’t believe me, do you?’

‘Perhaps at the end of today I will.’

She smiled. ‘We will be at the Iglesia de Santa María del Azogue. It’s the only church there is.’ She gathered her reins. ‘I won’t pray for you.’ She heeled the horse and rode off to catch up with the King’s retinue.