The Knight of Sticks and Straw (4 page)
Lady Jimena shook her head. “I think they will not wait. The plains are burning with the summer sun. I think they will want to finish us off quickly. I think they will attack tomorrow.”
The three sat around the body of their lost leader.
“The Berbers are brave, but Lord Rodrigo terrified them,” the doctor sighed. “Just the sight of him made them turn and run.”
“I’m the same with windmills … and I’m even afraid of scarecrows,” Cristina said. “The other night I ran home crying because a man of sticks and straw frightened me. I am a coward.”
“No, you’re not,” Lady Jimena said softly. “You didn’t run away from a man of sticks and straw! You ran away from a man in the dark. You didn’t know he was just a scarecrow.”
Cristina nodded. “If I’d known it wasn’t a real man, I wouldn’t have run,” she agreed.
Lady Jimena frowned. “If the Berbers know Lord Rodrigo is dead, they won’t run,” she said slowly. “But if they thought he was still
alive
…”
“They wouldn’t attack tomorrow,” the doctor said.
“But he
is
dead,” Cristina said. “Dead as a scarecrow.”
Lady Jimena turned her wide, brown eyes on the girl. They shone in the light of the single candle by the bed. “But no one
knows
. Only you, and Doctor Alvarez, and me.”
“You mean … we tell everyone that Lord Rodrigo is
alive
?” Cristina asked.
“That won’t work!” the doctor moaned. “The Berbers won’t believe it … unless they see him.”
“So, let them see him!” Cristina cried, for she suddenly knew what Lady Jimena was thinking. “Show them a scarecrow!”
The doctor almost laughed. “Dress our dead master in his armour? Put rods and straw inside to keep him upright? But how do we march him onto the battlefield?”
“Let him ride!” Cristina said. “Let Babieca carry him into battle.”
This time the doctor did laugh. “It would never work. Babieca is a warhorse. He needs someone to ride him … or lead him. We can’t just put a corpse on his back and expect him to lead the troops on to the field of battle.”
“Get a squire to lead him,” Cristina said. “All the knights have young men to help them!”
“No!” Lady Jimena said sharply. “The city is full of spies. No one,
no one
must know that my husband is dead. We cannot trust a squire, or even a servant – there are even some knights who hate my husband. No.
We
must prepare the body.
We
must mount him on Babieca. One of
us
must lead him into battle.”
The doctor shook his head, uncertain. “My lady, my legs are too old to walk through the town and through the gates and onto the fields outside the city.”
“And I cannot do it … everyone knows me. It would look odd. The Berbers would know it was some sort of trick.”
Lady Jimena and Doctor Alvarez looked at Cristina.
“Me?” the girl gasped.
Some words echoed in her head. She remembered them from that morning.
We are all heroes
.
You never
know how brave you are until you are
tested
.
The time had come for Cristina the coward to be tested.
“I’ll do it,” she said. “If you will help me, I’ll do it.”
Cristina’s first task was to run down to the kitchen to fetch wood and straw. When she reached the kitchen door, she took a deep breath to calm herself.
“What are you doing, girl?” the cook Ramon asked. “You were meant to take broth to El Cid, not take bowls to the Berber army, too. Where have you been?” Before she could answer, he went on, “Not that you are needed. The knights aren’t hungry tonight. They are too miserable about El Cid’s wound.”
“He’ll live to fight another day,” said Cristina.
Ramon smiled a wide smile. “Did you hear that, everyone? Our lord Rodrigo is alive and well!”
The cheerful servants went into the great hall to spread the news, and soon the noise from the hall was as great as when a battle had been won.
Cristina sweated beside the fire, looking for firewood that might fit inside Lord Rodrigo’s armour and keep him straight. Then she slipped round to the stables to steal hay from the horses.
Babieca was eating quietly and he turned his white head towards her. Cristina had always been afraid of horses. She reached out a hand and stroked the great charger on the nose. It was softer than any silk she had ever felt. Babieca snorted softly. Cristina managed to smile and let out a long breath. “You like me, then? That will help.”
She took the scarecrow stuffing back to the bedroom. The guard gave her a curious look, but Lady Jimena came to the door and told him the girl could come and go freely.
The doctor had cleaned the arrow wound on El Cid’s neck and the blood had stopped flowing. Cristina knew that only happened when an animal died. Lady Jimena dressed him in a clean, white shirt and then she helped the doctor strap the knight’s armour back in place.
By the time they’d finished, the palace was quiet. The knights had gone off to their beds, to be ready for battle the next day. Lady Jimena told the guard outside the door to get himself some supper in the kitchens.
When the corridors were empty, the three struggled to carry the corpse down to the stables. Lady Jimena was strong, and Cristina found new strength to help her.
Babieca the warhorse was wary of the scent of the dead man. As the doctor and the lady struggled to push El Cid over the saddle, Cristina spoke quietly to the horse and stroked his nose.
They found straps to bind the warrior’s legs to the stirrups, and the wooden frame under the armour was tied to the back of the saddle.
Anyone close by could see how El Cid was held there. But the Berbers would not be that close.
