In a short time they were at a considerable distance from the royal camp, but not so far that the cavaliers, who had remained in it, lost them entirely to view.
Don Sancho was mounted on a spirited horse, the impetuosity of which he felt it rather difficult to keep in control; and when Bellido informed him that they were near the Cambron Gate, he advanced some paces, not being able to curb his impatience to see that road which he believed was to lead him to the goal which he so anxiously desired to reach. Bellido took advantage of that opportunity in order to carry out the hellish plot, for the purpose of which he had gone to the Castilian camp; he took a javelin in his hand, and darting it with all the force he could command, buried it in the breast of the unfortunate king. Don Sancho uttered a cry of agony, and seized the javelin, not so much to free himself from it as to use it against the assassin, but his strength was insufficient, as it was quickly leaving him, and it was only with very great difficulty that he could keep himself on his horse.
"Quick, my cavaliers!" cried the king, struggling with death, which was now stopping his breath; "pursue the traitor who has wounded me!"
The Cid hastened to mount Babieca in order to pursue the assassin, who was hurrying off to seek refuge in Zamora, whilst Don Diego Ordoñez de Lara and other cavaliers quickly proceeded to the spot where Don Sancho was lying. The Cid, in the haste with which he had mounted, had forgotten to buckle on his spurs, for which reason the horse could not be got to gallop as fast as the enraged cavalier desired. Bellido was rapidly nearing a postern, and although the Cid urged on Babieca by striking his flanks with his heels and the butt-end of his lance, he was not able to overtake in time the treacherous regicide, who arrived at the postern and entered it without any opposition. Rodrigo, blinded by anger, would have rushed into the town after him, but the gate was shut in his face, and the Cid exclaimed in despair—
"May God curse the knight who rides without spurs!"
Don Sancho had breathed his last just at that moment, and the loud lamentations and cries of fury, which were uttered by the Castilian cavaliers around him, rent the air, and filled with fear and dismay the entire camp of the besiegers.
Diego Ordoñez de Lara left the dead body of the king, weeping with grief and rage, and ascended a hill which commanded the town and sloped down towards it.
"People of Zamora!" he cried from it, with a voice of thunder, "you are all murderers and traitors, for you have received into the city Bellido Dolfos, who has assassinated Don Sancho, my good king and lord. Those are traitors who protect traitors, and as such I, Diego Ordoñez de Lara, brand you. As traitors and murderers I challenge you all, great and humble, men and women, living and dead, born and to be be born, the fish and the birds, the flocks and the waters, the plants and the trees, everything, in fine, that is in Zamora, and all shall be exterminated by our anger!"
Arias Gonzalo, who heard the challenge of De Lara, answered from the wall—