Among them a great dispute arose over whom they would make king. Some wanted Cale-ben-Cale, others wanted Aduqueperec, cousin-german of the dead king. Cale-ben-Cale was chosen king, and he immediately ordered the envoys seized, along with all who had come with them, and he had them put to death. They cut off their heads, put them inside a packsaddle, and sent them to the city on a mule. The guards who were in the city towers saw two horsemen driving the mule on. When they were near the city they abandoned the mule and galloped away. The captain of the guards saw them and ordered ten men on horseback to go and see what it was all about. When they got there they wished they had not gone out to see such a terrible thing, and they immediately went to tell the king and his entire council. When the king heard the news he was very much taken aback, and he said: "Oh, cruel infidels: you who have little faith, for you cannot give what you do not have! Now I make a solemn vow, wounded as I am, never to enter a covered building, except to hear mass at a church, until I have driven these Moors from the entire kingdom." He quickly had his clothing brought to him, and he left his bed and had the trumpets sound. The first to leave the city was the king, and he had all the men who were more than eleven years old and less than seventy summoned, and under penalty of death they all had to follow him. That day his tents were raised on the very spot where the Moors had been defeated, and the king had a great deal of artillery for war brought out. When the virtuous countess learned that the king had proclaimed such a summons, and that those who were more than eleven years old were to follow him, she was very upset, for she realized that her son was included. So she hurried to where the king was, and fell to her knees on the hard ground. Then, with a grieving voice, she began to say: "Have pity on me. I have nothing of value except this son who is so young that he cannot help you. Grant me this favor in memory of your great friendship and love for my virtuous husband. And let me remind your grace of the alms that I used to give you when you were a hermit. Please hear my supplications, and leave my son with me. His father is dead, and the only thing I have to console me is this poor son." The king saw the countess's error, and quickly replied: