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wait here a moment, I shall inform His Majesty you have arrived.”

  The three men kicked their heels for a few minutes before Sir Diego returned and bid them follow him. A heated discussion was in progress when they entered and for a moment the three of them remained silent. When the King’s eyes fell on them, they bowed low and waited for him to speak.

   “Sir Reynard Sancerre, you are welcome here,” said the King Sancho.

   “It is an honour to be in your presence once more Your Majesty,” answered the Commander.

   “And it is my honour to introduce the King Pedro of Aragon.”

  By his attire it was not surprising that the man standing beside him was the King of Aragon. The three men bowed again and waited.

   “I have heard men speak of your small force of mercenaries Sir Reynard Sancerre. Some say they are formidable, what say you?” said King Pedro.

   “We are merely here to serve under the banners of Navarre Your Majesty, and what King Sancho requires, we shall do,” answered Reynard, wondering where the hell this was going.

   “I am glad to hear you say such words Sir Reynard for I have need of you and your men,” answered Sancho.

   “King Pedro and I met with King Alfonse and his generals yesterday and a decision was made that we will make the first assault on the city. The walls still hold and our supplies are starting to run short. It has been decided we must take action before it is too late.”

   “And you wish my men to join the assault?”

   “King Pedro and I tire of sitting back and doing nothing. You have heard that King Alfonse has already sent a force to take the abandoned town of Baeza?”

    “I had Your Majesty.”

    “With the Castilian army spread too thin, the armies of Navarre and Aragon have volunteered for the honour of taking the walls and then city of Ubeda,” said King Pedro, proudly.

   “An honour indeed Your Majesty and where would you have us?”

   “We begin our assault the day after tomorrow. I would have your force in the first wave of the assault upon the city’s weakened fortifications.”

   “We would be honoured Your Majesty,” said the Commander evenly.

   “Excellent. Then I would have you gather your men and have them stand alongside my own and those of King Pedro’s the morning after next,” said King Sancho.

  Further orders were given and the Kings’ plan of attack defined, then the audience was over and after bowing one last time the two knights and the captain departed.

   Back out in the open air Alphonso stretched.

   “All that bowing does my back no good at all. That man was wearing more gold on his person than the damned Empress of the Holy Roman Empire and that is saying something,” he said quietly.

   “He certainly thinks us expendable that’s for sure,” said Robert glumly.

   “What makes you say that?”

   “The first wave is almost a suicide.”

   “Have you forgotten Constantinople? We were in the first wave there, twice and we survived both,” said Reynard.

   “But many of the men didn’t.”

   “Or maybe he thinks we’re actually so blessed that we will turn the tide and take the walls for them,” said Alfonso sarcastically.

   “And I would agree,” came a new voice.

  The three spun round to see another appear from the King’s tent.

   “It is an honour to meet you Commander Reynard. It is true that my cousin had heard the reputation of the Forgotten Army. But it was I who was the most envious when we had heard that you had already accepted the proposal from King Sancho,” said the newcomer.

   “Once the bargain was struck I could not go back on my word my lord. A band of cut throat mercenaries we may be, but we must still honour such accords,” replied the Commander.

   “I had heard that also. That you follow a code, not a common thing amongst men who sell their services”

   “You said cousin my lord?” said Robert cautiously.

   “My apologies, I am Sir Tomas Berengeur, a cousin of the King Pedro of Aragon.”

   “Your family links with the Aragon lineage through Barcelona does it not?” asked Alfonso.

   “The very same, I applaud your knowledge sir and you are?”

   “Alfonso my lord, merely a captain in the Forgotten Army?”

   “I now understand why you would know of my family ties, for I have heard of you also captain.”

  There was something about the knight that unsettled Robert. For all his admiring words, the man was almost too flattering about the mercenary force the Commander led. Robert sensed insincerity and had the idea the man was trying to persuade the Commander to change his allegiance that very moment. His armour was of the finest quality and his surcoat bore the royal coat-of arms of Aragon. It was obvious that he was a learned man by his fluent English which matched that of Alfonso’s.

   “You have always served in King Pedro’s court Sir Tomas?” he asked.

  The Commander glanced toward Robert, disapproving of his protégé’s question.

   “I have been in the service of the court of Aragon for near on two years now,” replied Sir Tomas equably.

  The man was at least thirty if not more. Before he had the chance to ask his next question the knight had answered it for him.

   “I spent my earlier years serving in the Duchy of Aquitaine and the borders of Toulouse.”

   “Ah, Toulouse, a fine province,” said Alfonso.

  The captain also felt Robert’s questions were a little impertinent and wished to stop the questioning before it turned to an interrogation.

   “It is indeed. But the Borders of

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