you will find you have a heart as big as Babieca.”
Chapter Three
Boar and Blood
The palace kitchen was busier than ever that day. And it was full of excitement.
Lord Rodrigo’s wife, Jimena, came into the kitchens with orders for roast swans and whole boar with apple sauce. Tonight there would be a great party for the knights’ victory.
“Have they won, then?” Cristina asked a cook, Ramon.
“Not yet,” the red-faced, sweating man spat. “But we will, of course. El Cid is the master of terror. The enemy never know what he will do next. That is why Rodrigo is known as The Champion. The Champion of Terror!”
The palace servants worked all day, and by sunset the tables were piled with the richest food Valencia had. The poor people in the city may be starving, but the knights would eat like gods.
Yet when the doors to the grand hall opened, it was a quiet and miserable troop of dusty knights that wandered in.
“Did we lose?” Cristina asked.
Ramon scowled. “I don’t know,” he said. “But our lord Rodrigo is not with his knights.”
The girl was about to ask more when Lady Jimena burst through the kitchen door and spoke to Ramon in an excited voice. “I want food for my lord Rodrigo.”
The cook bowed low and began to say, “The feast is ready in the grand hall, as you ordered—”
But she cut him off. “To my lord’s room. Broth. A simple broth with a little bread and warm milk.”
“Is he unwell?” Ramon gasped.
Lady Jimena turned on him, furious. “It is not for you to ask questions. Just do as you’re told.”
Ramon shrank and bowed again. “I will bring the broth…”
“No, I don’t want you in there. Send this girl,” she said, pointing to Cristina.
“As you wish, my lady,” the cook cringed.
Jimena was gone and Ramon hurried to obey. He found a small tray for Cristina to carry and led the way to the servants’ stairs. “Up here and it’s the large double doors ahead of you.”
The girl took the tray and made her way up the dim stairway to the top. It led to a corridor and finally to the doors, which were guarded by a weary knight.
The knight stopped her, picked up the spoon and tasted the soup.
“It’s not poisoned,” Cristina said. “We would never do that.”
The knight opened the door and let her into the bedroom. Jimena sat at one side of a great bed that had curtains pulled back. The shutters were closed and the room was gloomy. A doctor was standing over a man, who lay on the bed. “Put the food down on this table,” the doctor said. “He may eat something later.”
Cristina did as she was told and backed towards the door.
“Here, girl, hold this bandage tight while I cut it,” snapped the doctor.
Cristina came near the bed and saw Lord Rodrigo lying there. A bandage was wrapped around his throat. As she watched, the cream linen cloth began to turn red with blood.
“Can’t you stop the bleeding?” Lady Jimena moaned. “It’s only an arrow … just an unlucky, stray arrow.”
“But it has gone deep into the neck – just where his helmet joins with his breastplate,” the doctor said.
Lord Rodrigo, El Cid, gave a gurgling moan. Frothy blood trickled from his mouth and he half choked on it while the doctor looked on, helpless. The lord gave one last cry and went still.
The doctor lifted the knight’s wrist. He shook his head and looked across the bed at Lady Jimena. “I’m sorry, my lady. Your lord is dead. El Cid is no more.”
Lady Jimena looked at the doctor and then at Cristina. “Then we are all dead. All dead,” she said.
Chapter Four
Candle and a Coward
“I’m not dead!” Cristina whispered.
Lady Jimena reached across and stroked the girl’s dark hair. “No, my child, no. But today the Berbers saw Lord Rodrigo fall. They chased our knights back into Castile. We only just closed the gates in time.”
“But the walls will keep them out!” Cristina argued.
The doctor sighed and spoke slowly. “The Berbers will
Chapter Three
Boar and Blood
The palace kitchen was busier than ever that day. And it was full of excitement.
Lord Rodrigo’s wife, Jimena, came into the kitchens with orders for roast swans and whole boar with apple sauce. Tonight there would be a great party for the knights’ victory.
“Have they won, then?” Cristina asked a cook, Ramon.
“Not yet,” the red-faced, sweating man spat. “But we will, of course. El Cid is the master of terror. The enemy never know what he will do next. That is why Rodrigo is known as The Champion. The Champion of Terror!”
The palace servants worked all day, and by sunset the tables were piled with the richest food Valencia had. The poor people in the city may be starving, but the knights would eat like gods.
Yet when the doors to the grand hall opened, it was a quiet and miserable troop of dusty knights that wandered in.
“Did we lose?” Cristina asked.
Ramon scowled. “I don’t know,” he said. “But our lord Rodrigo is not with his knights.”
The girl was about to ask more when Lady Jimena burst through the kitchen door and spoke to Ramon in an excited voice. “I want food for my lord Rodrigo.”
The cook bowed low and began to say, “The feast is ready in the grand hall, as you ordered—”
But she cut him off. “To my lord’s room. Broth. A simple broth with a little bread and warm milk.”
“Is he unwell?” Ramon gasped.
Lady Jimena turned on him, furious. “It is not for you to ask questions. Just do as you’re told.”
Ramon shrank and bowed again. “I will bring the broth…”
“No, I don’t want you in there. Send this girl,” she said, pointing to Cristina.
“As you wish, my lady,” the cook cringed.
Jimena was gone and Ramon hurried to obey. He found a small tray for Cristina to carry and led the way to the servants’ stairs. “Up here and it’s the large double doors ahead of you.”
The girl took the tray and made her way up the dim stairway to the top. It led to a corridor and finally to the doors, which were guarded by a weary knight.
The knight stopped her, picked up the spoon and tasted the soup.
“It’s not poisoned,” Cristina said. “We would never do that.”
The knight opened the door and let her into the bedroom. Jimena sat at one side of a great bed that had curtains pulled back. The shutters were closed and the room was gloomy. A doctor was standing over a man, who lay on the bed. “Put the food down on this table,” the doctor said. “He may eat something later.”
Cristina did as she was told and backed towards the door.
“Here, girl, hold this bandage tight while I cut it,” snapped the doctor.
Cristina came near the bed and saw Lord Rodrigo lying there. A bandage was wrapped around his throat. As she watched, the cream linen cloth began to turn red with blood.
“Can’t you stop the bleeding?” Lady Jimena moaned. “It’s only an arrow … just an unlucky, stray arrow.”
“But it has gone deep into the neck – just where his helmet joins with his breastplate,” the doctor said.
Lord Rodrigo, El Cid, gave a gurgling moan. Frothy blood trickled from his mouth and he half choked on it while the doctor looked on, helpless. The lord gave one last cry and went still.
The doctor lifted the knight’s wrist. He shook his head and looked across the bed at Lady Jimena. “I’m sorry, my lady. Your lord is dead. El Cid is no more.”
Lady Jimena looked at the doctor and then at Cristina. “Then we are all dead. All dead,” she said.
Chapter Four
Candle and a Coward
“I’m not dead!” Cristina whispered.
Lady Jimena reached across and stroked the girl’s dark hair. “No, my child, no. But today the Berbers saw Lord Rodrigo fall. They chased our knights back into Castile. We only just closed the gates in time.”
“But the walls will keep them out!” Cristina argued.
The doctor sighed and spoke slowly. “The Berbers will
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