Thick smoke from the charcoal-burning censer smothered the transept as de Hayle backed away under Beyard’s onslaught. The Gascon saw past him into the room where the Archbishop and another man sprawled in blood. There was no doubt they were dead. De Hayle was hard pressed by Beyard, whose years of fighting at Blackstone’s side gave him a single-minded focus on inflicting extreme violence on an enemy. Loys, still weakened from wounds sustained at the bridge, went down under two of de Hayle’s men’s swords. Aicart killed one of them, but another stabbed and slashed at him, wounding him. Despite his wounds Aicart rammed his blade into his attacker’s throat. The two remaining routiers hurled themselves at Aicart. Beyard saw the fight had turned in de Hayle’s favour.

Lázaro screamed. Beyard half turned and saw Velasquita drag a knife across the boy’s throat. Beyard roared with grief and anger at the smiling woman and the startled look of surprise on the boy’s face. And then Beyard’s heart lurched. In the moment’s distraction de Hayle had rammed his sword into the half-turned Gascon’s back. Beyard reeled, twisted and struck hard. Aicart couldn’t hold the others back.

‘Go! Get Sir Thomas! Tell him! Tell him, Aicart!’

The loyal soldier held off two men a moment longer before, with a final, agonizing glance at the man he had followed for so many years, he turned to the side door and ran back into the square as Beyard fell under the blades of de Hayle and his swordsmen.

Beyard and Lázaro lay sprawled, their blood mingling on the cathedral floor.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR

News of Archbishop Suero Gómez’s murder and that of his dean spread faster than the pestilence. Blackstone, Killbere and John Jacob rode hard once Aicart reached the King’s camp. Santiago’s stricken commander had his troops push panicked travellers away from the narrow streets and ushered Blackstone into the cathedral, now cleared of pilgrims. The incense and smell of acrid charcoal failed to disguise the stench of gore. Their friend’s bodies lay where they had fallen. Smeared blood showed where the slain Archbishop and dean’s bodies had been removed.

‘Witnesses say your man here surprised the killers,’ said the guard commander. He pointed to the bloodied footprints that led from the antesacristía to where Beyard and Lázaro lay in their congealed blood. The Gascon soldier Loys had fallen nearer the room’s open door. ‘I have sent for the bishop, who is visiting one of the outlying churches, but while we wait for his return, our priests will prepare for Peralvarez and the Archbishop’s funeral.’