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        Matthews' horse was prancing about the pen for no apparent reason, wildly snorting and frothing; he would turn in a wide circle, then abruptly rear up and down and head in the other direction. Now and again he would run up to the railings of the low fence and rub his lathered neck against the rough wood, scratching himself until his neck was raw and bleeding, but finding no apparent relief from his agony. His ankles were visibly swollen; each movement caused the poor animal terrible pain.
        "How long has this behavior been going on?"
        "I noticed last night before retiring that the animal was skittish and nervous, but it is not entirely unusual for a stallion to behave so, especially if he catches wind of a mare in season. I thought little of it then and went to bed without concern. But this morning he saw still prancing. I have not seen this odd behavior before, either in the water-dreading malady or the twisted stomach disorder that so frequently torments even the strongest horses. I do not understand this animal's strange dance. But I am certain he is not well; I fear that this one behaves as if he had the plague, and I thought to consult you immediately."
        "And well done," Alejandro assured him. "If this animal is pestiferous, I fear the worst for Matthews and the tailor."
        Sir John glanced at the chapel, then turned back to Alejandro and said, "Then surely I have sent him to his death, and it will be on my head."
        Alejandro looked at him, pitying his untenable position, and said what the man could not untreasonously say for himself. "It is not on your head or mine, good sir, but that of the Princess and her overindulgent father. And time will give us the answer we seek; if we are lucky, there will be no blame to be borne. Let us watch this animal carefully; perhaps he will recover soon, and our fears will be put to rest. For the time being, let us keep this between us."
                                * * *
        Their fears were not put to rest, but only increased. For the next few hours, the horse continued to prance about in a similar manner, but his already frantic pace had quickened, and the frequency of his neck-rubbings increased until there was barely any skin left intact. Soon he began to slow down, but the change of tempo could not be attributed to any improvement in the animal's condition. He had simply exhausted all of his energy. Finally, the horse was calm, and stood still in the middle of the small pen, his rasping breath quite audible even from the small gate window. His sides heaved erratically with each shallow breath. The animal began to sway slightly, and tried valiantly to maintain its balance, but was finally forced by its own fatigue to give up the brave fight. The sickening sound of a snapping bone accompanied the horse's crumpling fall to the ground, and Alejandro covered his hands with his face, unable to watch the final death throes of the once magnificent stallion.
        "Keep this to yourself yet, Sir John." He left the old soldier standing there, his head bowed in shame, and headed toward the chapel. There he found Matthews standing with his face between two of the wooden bars, staring out into the courtyard, watching the activities of his comrades as they practiced at swordplay. The man looked well enough, and had made no specific complaints, but Alejandro didn't want to rely on Matthews' ability to recognize a symptom worthy of report. He greeted the man, and inquired about his condition.
        "I feel quite good, thank you, Sir," was the soldier's quick response. "Mostly I feel envy that my fellow guards are out there practicing without me. My belly grows fat from this inactivity and I am as sluggish as an old worm."
        His interest piqued by the report of sluggishness, the physician queried him further. "Are you feeling tired, or lethargic?"
        "As I said, Sir, I feel sluggish, but I am certain it is from the indolent life I lead in this small cell."
        "Has your head ached, or is your neck stiff?"
        The soldier replied, "Thankfully, no. I assure you, Doctor, I am unafflicted."
        Alejandro ended the interview with Matthews, and looked around the dim cell for signs of Reed. His eyes finally settled on a round figure bent over the table, intently studying what looked to be the Princess's drawings. He thought to call out to the man, but hesitated, not wishing to alarm him unnecessarily. But he stayed in the area for the remainder of the day, and kept a close eye on the men's activities, just in case their conditions should suddenly change.
        When he was summoned again the next morning, he knew it was not to attend to the horse.