The Song of the Exile (Legend of the Cid Book 5) by Stuart Rudge

Author:Stuart Rudge [Rudge, Stuart]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-05T00:00:00+00:00

Part Three

The Betrayal at Ruta al-Yahudi

Saraqusta, 1084 AD

Ten

An uneasy peace descended between Saraqusta and Larida. Yusuf did not probe his brother further, always wary that the Aragonese could strike from the north, whilst Mundhir seemed content to lick his wounds after the bruising defeat at al-Manāra and plotted his next move. Rodrigo ensured he kept the men in check and a state of readiness, and sent us on patrols along the northern and eastern borders, watching for signs of movement from enemy troops or gatherings that might signal an impending attack. None came. Nearly two years on from the siege at al-Manāra we watched, waited, and willed the enemy to come forth so we could wet our blades with their blood. We were disappointed. The cowards hid behind their walls.

Mas’sud was sent to the east to watch Larida, and Gotinus and Kulayb accompanied and aided him, whilst I took Esidero, Enrique and Sarracino as part of my troupe, along with Darras and a band of his horse archers, to watch the Aragonese. Rodrigo had decided to abandon al-Manāra to the enemy, stating it was too close to Larida to be of any use, but had secured the castle of Tamarit. It was only a short ride from the great fortress of Monzon, and he garrisoned it with a sturdy band of warriors who could defend themselves and strike out into enemy territory if the occasion called for it. From here we would set out on our patrols but return empty-handed each time.

When we did return to Saraqusta, Rodrigo permitted some of us to dwell in the Zuda palace with him, and I confess I was glad to be one of the lucky ones. I felt like a true noble. No luxury seemed beyond our wishes; lavish meals were laid on twice a day, and the opportunity to bathe in the soothing waters of the bathhouse daily was too good to resist. My favourite part was witnessing the blissfully peaceful dawns. Before we donned our panoplies and rode out to practise, I savoured the few silent moments in the courtyard as the pink and orange rays basked the walls in the ethereal glow, and the touch of the fresh morning breeze caressed my cheeks. The tranquillity would be interrupted by the calls to prayers, and there was something harmonic in the long drones and peaceful tone. I would close my eyes and breathe deeply, and something in those prayers conjured images of Constanza and my children. Longing and guilt soon washed over me, knowing I lived in luxury whilst they were confined to the monastery. I would have forfeited all that I had to release them, but so long as Alfonso was on the throne and we were outlawed, it would be nothing more than a dream.

Alvar came to Saraqusta again and was met with favourable greetings. He claimed he was in Saraqusta to discuss opening a new route for pilgrims coming from Francia to Santiago de Compostela through the taifa, but in truth we knew he was to spy on Rodrigo and report his findings to Alfonso.

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