"Richard! Wake up!" John of Chester pulled aside the flap of the Golden Knight's tent and rushed in. The young knight's armour had been recently polished, and his surcoat had been bleached to remove the stains that it had accumulated since his arrival in the Holy Land. "Have you forgotten what day it is?" John stopped, his eyes wide open in an expression of relief.

Richard of Warwick was indeed awake, and was giving instructions to his native servant. He raised his hand to reassure John. "I had not forgotten, although I was late a-bed this morning. I blame Ikram and that brew of his. It gives you energy, but it is not something to be drunk late at night."

John of Chester looked suspiciously around the tent. "Speaking of him, where is your houseguest?"

"He has gone out to perform his devotions to his god."

"Hmmph," the young knight snorted. "And you tolerate him in your tent?"

"He is no different to us," the Golden Knight retorted. "He is the son of a noble house - as are we. He is a chivalrous warrior - as are we. It is just an accident of birth that has led to him being an enemy of ours. If you were to talk to him - ."

"If. But I would be careful of who I talk to, if I were you. There are whispers amongst the other knights about your choice of companions."

Richard took his helmet from the head of the mannequin and tucked it under his arm. "And more fool those who believe the gossip. Do they have so little to do here that they must act like serving girls at the well? Shall we go?" And with that, the Golden Knight strode out of his tent and set off for the heart of the camp. John of Chester stood for a moment, then hurried after his friend.

The two knights made their way through the ranks of tents and the lines of bivouacs, arriving at a clear space only a few dozen yards from the great pavilion of King Richard. A detachment of other knights were already there, each one dressed in shining armour and spotless clothing. At their centre was William of Gaunt, their monarch's lieutenant, who was in the process of berating his men for imperfections both real and imagined. However, he was not too busy to fail to notice the late arrival of the pair.

"Ah - Warwick! Chester!" the Earl of Gaunt called out. "You honour us with your presence. I trust that His Royal Majesty is not causing you any inconvenience."

Richard humbly lowered his head. "I apologise, my lord. It is my fault."

"Really?" William's eyes blazed brightly as he turned them on the Golden Knight. "Well, for all your reputation, you are still - !" But Richard never found out what he was going to be accused of as the sudden blare of trumpets announced the arrival of their monarch. "Honour guard!" the Earl of Gaunt bellowed. "Form up! Salute your king!"

The knights formed up into two lines, leaving a clear space between them. Then, almost simultaneously, they drew their swords and raised them high so that the sunlight caught them and made them gleam in the sun. Only William was left standing in the middle, and he strode down the ranks to meet King Richard.

"My lord." William knelt before his king. "We await your orders."

King Richard looked up and down the lines of warriors, as if barely acknowledging their presence. "Gaunt. We are pleased to see you. Are the men gathered and ready?"

"Sieur, they are. Do you wish to inspect them."

The monarch gave a quiet sigh. "No. From what I can see of them, you have assembled a fine body. I trust that you have informed them of their duties for the day?"

"I have indeed, my lord." William glanced back down the gleaming rows. For a moment, Richard of Warwick felt that the noble was staring straight at him, daring him to say otherwise, but his eyes moved on.

"Oc. Good," King Richard remarked. "We shall ride. Come." And, with that, he swept past the host. William remained kneeling for a a few seconds, then rose and hurried after his lord. The rest of the knights then fell in line and followed.

As they rode with the others towards a cluster of tents halfway between the Crusaders' camp and the Muslim camp, Richard of Warwick drew his horse alongside that of John of Chester. "So, what are our duties?"

"If you had not been so intent on entertaining last night, then you would know," his companion responded. "We guard the king while he talks to Salah'a'din. Not that we expect anything in the way of treachery."

"But we must guard against the possibility. I understand." Richard's thoughts went back to the conversation that had taken place with Emrys Wledig the night before and the scholar's hints at what might come to pass. It would be a truly wicked - or desperate - man who would strike at this time. But if it was true what Wledig had said ... ? A sudden blow to his shoulder returned the Golden Knight's attention to the here and now.

"Hah!" John of Chester leant back into his saddle. "Pay attention. Do you want to disgrace yourself before King Richard? Or worse, before that puffed-up pizzle of an earl?"

"No. Of course not. Now, tell me as much as you can before it is too late."

It took a quarter-hour for the royal party to reach the camp where the parley was to take place. Much to the disgust of William of Gaunt, Salah'a'din and his bodyguard had already arrived and were in place. After escorting King Richard to the tent where the negotiations were to take place and setting a guard, the nobleman let his knights know exactly his thoughts on the matter. At last his venom ran dry, and he left the knights to attend to his own duties in service of the Lionheart.

"I thought he would never go," John of Chester remarked to everyone in general and no-one in particular. "One day he will die of apoplexy." The knight smiled at his friend. "Not that I wish it upon him. But life would be better without having to worry about his blade of a tongue waiting for us. Its wounds are worse than a bandit's dagger."

"A dagger can only kill you," Richard of Warwick replied. "But William can ruin a man for the rest of his ... ." Then he stopped as something occurred to him. "John, will you indulge me for a while? There is something I think I saw earlier, but I wish to be sure. Will you accompany me?"

John reached for his sword. "Do you have some mischief in mind?" His eyes twinkled. "If you do, then it will be my duty to ensure that nothing comes of it."

"No." The Golden Knight shook his head. "No mischief. There is merely something I thought I saw. Come."

The two friends made their way through the camp. As they passed by any of Salah'a'din's warriors, Richard paused to greet them civilly, his gaze flickering over them, before continuing on their way. John of Chester noticed his fellow knight's strange behaviour. "What are you looking for?" he asked. "If you would tell me, then perhaps I would be of more help to you?"

"I am not sure. But I think ... ." Richard stopped in mid-sentence. There, on the belt of a hooded warrior, was a a dagger with a flame-handled hilt!