‘And I give my word to stay at your side. Ride in, say what we must, and then ride out. I too want this business finished. I’m weary of it. If you can effect a reconciliation then I will be as thankful as the next man.’ He scratched his armpit. ‘If I’m to ride back to France then we’ll need fresh clothes, so it might be worth buying fresh shirts in Santiago.’

It was obviously a roundabout attempt to spend time on the streets, spend money with merchants and ease into brothels and taverns.

Blackstone finished dressing. ‘The village crones have a bathhouse for passing pilgrims. They’ll wash your shirt and braies and scrub your back with fresh straw while you sit in a wooden tub of bathwater used by fifty travellers.’

Killbere shrugged. ‘Then I shall itch in front of the Archbishop and apologize that I stink.’

‘Why do you think they burn incense? It suffocates the stench of the unwashed and devours any disease carried in the air. You’ll come back smelling sweet and disease free. I want to be back before nightfall and talking takes time.’

Killbere surrendered and walked to his tethered horse. ‘The night is for witches,’ he said with a suggestive smile.

Blackstone ignored him. He had not seen Velasquita since they arrived at the King’s camp. There had been no time. And since Sayyid al-Hakam had told him she met a routier that night at Burgos he was even more cautious of her. That man had been Ranulph de Hayle, who would surely not lose sight of his prey. If Velasquita knew where he was then Blackstone would stay close to her.

Beyard walked towards him with Lázaro in tow. ‘Sir Thomas, a word?’

Blackstone nodded for John Jacob to go to the horses; then he glanced towards the King’s quarters and lowered his voice. ‘Beyard, is everything all right with the boy? Has he remembered something?’

‘Oh no, nothing, Sir Thomas, but he wants to ask a favour from you so I said I would bring him to you.’ Beyard ushered the reluctant boy forward.

‘Lázaro, what is it you ask?’ said Blackstone.

‘My lord, my Queen told me of this great place Santiago de Compostela, with its cathedral and the tomb of St James. She revered the place so much that she said one day she would undertake a pilgrimage here and allow me to go with her. I would beg you to let me go with you so I can pray for her and leave her crucifix on the saint’s tomb. That way I will know that at last she has made her pilgrimage.’