When Locke once again arrived back at his tent, a pair of bored looking Spanish musketeers was there waiting for him.
“Are you Robert Locke?” one of them asked as he drew near.
“At your service,” he bowed.
“You are hereby summoned,” the other musketeer mumbled, while handing him a small slip of parchment.
Locke looked down at the writing and gleaned that it had to do with meeting Queen Isabella and gathering his reward money.
“Where should I go?” he asked.
“The Royal Court is being held at Cordoba,” the first musketeer explained.
“If you wish,” the other added, “you can use the summons to requisition a horse.”
They explained to him where to go and what to do to receive his temporary mount. He tipped them each a silver piece for their helpfulness and wished them a good day.
After starting to walk away, the musketeer that had handed him the summons paused and turned back around.
“I wonder,” the man stared hard at Locke, “were you anywhere near the South Keep, the one by the docks, around midday yesterday?”
Locke swallowed, and staring straight back into the man’s eyes answered, “Sorry, no, not that I can recall.”
The man lingered for a moment more, looking Locke up and down before shrugging, turning around, and following after his partner.
*
The weather remained pleasant, so Locke decided to spend one more night relaxing on his knoll. In the morning, he rolled up his tent and set off to find the livery.
The horse was a bit of a disappointment, but it was still far and away the best horse he had ever received for free.
He let the animal maintain an easy pace as it carried him and his belongings north to the royal court of Isabella of Castile and Ferdinand of Aragon.
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