The sky cleared. It appeared to be so close a man could lie in his blankets and reach up and seize a lifetime’s wealth from the jewel-infused heaven, even as the accompanying night’s chill seeped through men’s clothing, burying itself deep in muscle and bone.

Beyard watched Lázaro murmur in his sleep, back pressed close to the river boulders edging the fire, which radiated warmth. Then he looked up from sharpening his knife. ‘Hello, John. Doing your rounds?’

‘Aye. Sir Thomas always goes among the men before a fight. You care for the blade as much as you do the boy,’ said John Jacob, who had stepped next to Beyard’s fire.

Beyard tested his thumb against the blade; then he slipped it into its scabbard. ‘We look to him.’

‘As Lázaro looks to you. The lad’s come a long way.’

Beyard glanced again at the curled figure by the fire and tucked the blanket up around the boy’s neck. ‘He’s found his voice and his courage over the months. How must it be for a lad his age enduring what he’s gone through?’

‘And tomorrow, where will he be?’

‘With the horses.’

‘Best place,’ said John Jacob. He gazed across the camp. Both men were subdued. ‘We need to kill ten of them for every one they kill of us.’

‘It will be a long day,’ said Beyard.

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

The dark blue sky began its slow retreat. The moon was chasing another night in another place as the first blade of a blood sun edged across the horizon. Men’s breath whispered into the cold pre-dawn air. Blackstone’s men had watched in silence as the Moors bent in prayer. Ignorance of the Muslims’ customs did not impede their sense of respect for men bowing down in humility before going to their death.

The Moors went quietly to their horses, stroked their faces and blew gently into their nostrils as they murmured soothing words to them. Then they eased their blankets off them and one by one led their mounts across the ancient stone bridge. The gathered cavalrymen each waited on foot for their turn to go across the river. Sayyid al-Hakam watched a dozen of his archers carrying baskets of their arrows as they accompanied his brother to where Will Longdon stood. The man known to the centenar as Salam carried his own offering. They stopped in front of Longdon, and Sayyid’s brother spoke.

‘I am Abid al-Hakam. It was you who saved my life. I pray Allah will protect you this day.’

Salam and the men with him placed the baskets down in front of Longdon and Jack Halfpenny.

‘My archers will have no need for more than half of their arrows. You understand?’ said al-Hakam.