Deafening cries. The Knights with their great swords begin to tear
the foot attackers. The enemy infantry is numerous, and they also
manage to inflict serious damage on our men on horseback. Among
several, they throw themselves on our horses and they lay them down
for later, using their swords, cutting limbs and heads. The enemy
cavalry has been quite decimated; however, it is directed to one of our
flanks to the place where their infantry meets our Knights fighting to
death. Our archers are thrown sideways and the Castilian infantry is
running to the battle place. Sancho and I are surrounded by both sides
soldiers. Using our swords, we get rid all the Aragonese infants that
come to us. I'm splashed with blood. On several occasions, I had to
wipe my face with my sleeve, as I could not see. Blood was
everywhere, cries, men weeping and looking horrified at their
scattered limbs. Blood sludge on the ground. Sword-bends over here,
over there. I see Sancho and he's just like me. I do not know how
many men I have been able to injure or kill; I have the right arm
aching by handle the heavy sword.
Several Aragoneses approach and push my horse. I fall to the
ground and stand up immediately. My horse hasn't crushed me by
chance. Various soldiers jump on me. I clench my teeth and throw
myself at them, screaming and with my eyes out of my orbits. I don't
know how, but one after another, they're falling all around me. They
want to kill me, but I won't let them! There comes a time when I see
myself surrounded by Aragonese soldiers, but they dare not to get
near. I am surrounded by corpses of their partners. I look at them, I
scream, I clench my teeth and I throw myself at several of them. I
raise my sword threatening them. They run in terror.
Horns sound from the Aragonese field. They're retreat sounds. The
Aragonese King, Ramiro, has been mortally wounded. The Aragonese
troops run to retreat at their rear. We won the battle!
It seems that a Moorish disguised as a Castilian has approached
Ramiro until he arrived next to him. The Moorish with armor and a
helmet only allowing to see his eyes has nailed his spear in one of his
eyes; as the King was distracted. The King had fallen to the ground
-11-