‘Sir Thomas, I am a Norman, not a Breton. I don’t give a damn about Charles de Blois or John de Montfort. Noblemen squander men’s lives as easily as trampling a field of grain. If there is a choice, I will not take my men into the fight, so I will need a ransom large enough to buy me my freedom to choose.’

Blackstone looked over his shoulder to where ben Josef bathed Meulon’s face with the tenderness of a woman with a child. He looked back at de Claville. ‘You shall have your ransom and I wish you a long life to spend it.’

‘I want something more,’ said de Claville. ‘The man who slaughters innocents has part of his scalp missing here.’ He touched above his right ear. ‘He wears a surcoat of four upturned daggers against blue cloth. Bring me Ranulph de Hayle’s head and rid us of the threat he poses. He is a beast who needs to be killed.’

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Killbere choked on his wine at Blackstone’s answer to his question. He spat it out. ‘God’s tears, Thomas. Six pounds? For an old man? I could buy several horses for less. And you know how many archers a day we could have at our side with six pounds?’

‘How many would that be, Gilbert?’

‘At sixpence a day we could have...’ He scowled as the arithmetic eluded him.

Blackstone waited as Killbere struggled. ‘Two hundred and forty archers,’ said Blackstone.

‘No matter,’ said an irritated Killbere. ‘Have you lost your senses? He’s a Spaniard. What good will he do us?’

‘He saved Meulon’s life: that’s worth more than any damned horse and many archers.’

‘I do not question the value of Meulon’s life, Thomas, I ask why you would pay a king’s ransom for a Jew who will attract distrust and censure. He will not be permitted to practice, you know that.’

‘I don’t care whether a man is Christian, Pagan, Muslim or Jew. He stays with us until I return him to Navarre.’

‘You mean we don’t even own him?’

‘When did we ever have slaves?’ said Blackstone. ‘This man has skills greater than any barber-surgeon I have witnessed and he will stay with us for as long as it takes for us to return him safely. I have signed the promissory note. De Claville will take it to a banker in Rheims and Father Torellini will honour the debt from my account in Florence.’

Killbere sighed. ‘Thomas, let us at least turn a profit and sell him to the King of Navarre.’

‘Time will tell what favour we might need from him. Until then he is our guest and he rides in the wagon with Meulon.’

‘And the Spanish prisoners you paid for? Are they to fight with us?’