Next day in full armor, his sword drawn, the boy King of Avila went out to meet his foe. Fighting bravely, by his soldiers, it is said that he was last to leave the battle.
There came a time when Alfonso set forth upon a journey, accompanied by a group of nobles. Among his traveling companions were several of the King's followers, one of them that same spy who had smeared poison upon the leaves of Alfonso's book.
As evening overtook the party of travelers, they drew rein in the town of Cardenosa, and planned to stop there for the night.
As usual, Alfonso had brought along his books. But too often had his enemies been disappointed, so now they planned a trick. It was a trick which would force the Prince into their cruel trap.
They removed all but one of Alfonso's books from his chamber. The one left was placed in plain view upon the table. It was "The Odyssey."
Wondering what had become of the others, but too weary to find out, the Prince settled himself to read before retiring for the night. As he opened the book he smiled, remembering Isabella and how she had always urged him to read something else.
Well, tonight he might do as he pleased, for he was quite alone. Tonight he might read "The Odyssey," which he had not opened for so long.
Page after page he turned with a finger moistened by his tongue. And an hour passed.
Late during the night, a messenger rode madly into the town of Segovia where the Princess Isabella was living.
"The King of Avila is dying!" the messenger gasped. "He calls for his sister, the Princess Isabella!"
Isabella rode furiously through the night and when she reached Cardenosa, she was met by the Archbishop of Toledo. He held out his hand to her, and in his face there was pity and grief. Before he even told her, Isabella knew that her beloved brother was dead.
[Illustration: MIRAFLORES MONASTERY, BURGOS]
Some claimed that enemies had given him poisoned fish. Others believed that he had died of a fever. Still others told the story which you have just heard. But whether or not it is true will remain a mystery forever.
There is a wonderful cathedral in Burgos, whose Gothic spires point upward like lace fingers. They point to a hill above the city, upon which rests the Miraflores Chapel.