by David Gilman
‘And Sir Thomas will seek out the man who killed him. Stand together and keep his memory alive so that when we face this man, the urge to avenge him will bring us victory.’
Their mumbled grunts were the affirmation Will Longdon needed. It was not unusual for men to desert when their leader died, but the promise that Blackstone would lead them to vengeance on Kynith’s killer would cleave them to him.
*
Sir John Chandos questioned Beyard. If the English mercenary Ranulph de Hayle had fought on the side of the French at Cocherel and taken the Gascon prisoner, then any parole given him by the Prince would be cast aside. Now that he had murdered one of Blackstone’s men there was sufficient cause for him to be brought to justice.
‘I did not see his blazon at Cocherel,’ said Beyard. ‘But I saw him. The men with him were skinners. Two hundred and more. Some Germans, Spanish and Gascons but Hungarians as well. He was definitely there. He’s the kind of man who would remove his blazon so we would not identify him. He’s in the French’s pay. When I was taken from the battlefield I and the other prisoners saw how viciously he attacked villagers. There were several of us. Two died from their wounds, another in the cell at the castle. He had sport with the others. He let his men kill them slowly. I was worth more to him because I was Lord de Grailly’s captain. The castle is not his. He holds it for Charles of Blois.’
‘And if he is behind its walls, then that is where he will stay,’ said Chandos. ‘He knows we cannot take it by siege. He will wait for Blois to face us and then he’ll escape.’
‘He’s already gone,’ said Killbere. ‘He knows what to expect and if he’s in the pay of the French staying behind those walls serves no purpose.’
‘Gilbert’s right,’ said Blackstone. ‘He’s fled already. I’ll find him and I’ll have him drawn and quartered and send each part of him to the villages he destroyed.’
Beyard sighed. ‘And I’ll be the one wielding the axe, Sir Thomas.’ He nodded towards ben Josef. ‘Whatever potions he makes we should give to the horses. I can feel my strength returning. I saw Meulon training with his men and Renfred said he’d been wounded but the Jew had healed him.’
‘It was a wound bad enough to bring him down,’ said Killbere.
‘Keep the Spaniard with us, Sir Thomas. He can question the boy who was captured with me. The lad was caught up in the fight but his French is poor so I couldn’t understand much of what he was saying. But I think what happened to him is important.’
‘He seems to trust you. He has a name?’
‘Lázaro.’
‘I’ll have ben Josef question him when the boy’s had some nourishment and is strong enough. Sit with him and reassure him that he’s safe.’
Sir John Chandos nudged Blackstone. ‘We need to talk.’
He led Blackstone and Killbere towards where the commanders waited at his pavilion. John de Montfort sat in a padded chair, one leg over the other, his impatience plain to see. When Blackstone and Chandos came into view, he jumped up. The English routier commanders waited stoically. Their companies had surrounded Auray and breached the low defences when Chandos ordered the archers to set fire to the roofs. The surrender had come quickly and Chandos had restrained de Montfort’s Bretons from sweeping through the town.
‘De Montfort insists on being in the front line,’ said Chandos. ‘Hugh Calveley has the bit between his teeth; he wants to be in the front ranks too but I have him in reserve. All these men want the glory but we must control the fight. And between us we must protect de Montfort. Winning the battle against Charles of Blois is worthless if Montfort is killed in the fray.’
‘No man can wet-nurse another in a fight. You know that,’ said Killbere.
Chandos nodded. ‘What I do know is that if Calveley breaks ranks it might jeopardize the outcome. His brigands want booty. If he ignores his orders, his men will run amok.’
‘Then you deal with him and I’ll shadow de Montfort,’ said Blackstone. ‘I’ll put my archers on the flanks and my men-at-arms at his shoulder. Have you asked him for money? We can buy more men or bribe others. There are still others like Hugh Calveley who can be commissioned to fight.’
‘I asked but he hoards what money he has. I suspect he sleeps with it under his bed. His future, he tells me, depends on having gold to hand for favours that can be bought when he needs them.’
‘For pity’s sake, he’s about to be given the damned duchy. How much more does he want? That money could help us turn the tide of battle.’
Chandos shook his head. ‘Leave it be, Thomas. It’s a lost argument. We just have to give him the benefit of our experience.’ Chandos lowered his voice as they got closer to de Montfort. ‘He needs it, I promise you.’
No sooner had they joined the young lord than de Montfort’s impatience spilled over. ‘Sir John, I ask again why we did not destroy Auray. If a message is to be sent to my enemy, then it should be bold and unhesitating.’
‘What we have done serves its purpose,’ said Chandos. ‘We have blockaded the town and the route upriver. Charles de Blois’s castle is under siege. We do not need to slaughter innocents. He will come.’ The King’s chief negotiator during the peace treaty had soothed many antagonistic lords and de Montfort’s youth and inexperience posed little challenge.
‘If I am to inherit Brittany, then its people must know that I will not tolerate disloyalty,’ de Montfort said.
‘They are loyal,’ said Blackstone. ‘But to Charles of Blois. The dead cannot bend a knee to you. You have granted them their lives today. That will be remembered. You have not set your Bretons among them to rape and murder. That will be remembered. If you had done otherwise that would never be forgotten.’
John de Montfort turned away from Blackstone and faced the routier captains. Hugh Calveley was a brawny man. It was said he ate for two men and fought like six.
‘Sir Hugh?’ de Montfort said. ‘What do you think we should we do? You have fought across France. You must have an opinion. Are we to sit here and do nothing?’
Hugh Calveley remained stony-faced. The Cheshire knight was a pragmatic fighter who served the Crown; he had forged his own company of mercenaries, men who were as loyal as Blackstone’s were to him. If the whelp was looking for some comforting words he had turned to the wrong man. ‘You ask me? I follow Sir John’s command and Thomas Blackstone knows this land better than any other. Why don’t you listen to them? You run the risk of disharmony, my lord. Stabbing away with a blunt argument does no one any good. The men know when their commanders are in disagreement and it seeps through them, it rankles. In the name of the King and for God’s sake, relinquish your desire to lead where you have not led before.’
De Montfort’s face coloured.
‘And you were afraid I would upset him?’ said Blackstone in an aside to Chandos.
Diplomat that he was, Chandos soothed de Montfort’s discomfort. ‘These men are here to give you victory. They have bled on the fields of France. Their bluntness comes from harsh experience.’ He cast a warning glance to Calveley who needed no one to make excuses for him.
‘And not one man here doubts your courage,’ added Blackstone. ‘You will be in the front rank. You will lead the army. Our suggestions are only to ensure that it gives you victory. Nothing less.’
John de Montfort’s temper cooled. ‘Then I had better see to my men,’ he said and saved face by walking over to his waiting captains.
‘Good to see you true to form, Hugh,’ said Killbere.
‘He’ll bear a grudge, you know that,’ said Blackstone.
‘Aye, I dare say. The sooner this business is done with the better, Thomas,’ said the Cheshire mercenary. ‘My men have business to attend to elsewhere. The King might not openly confess to showing support for the upstart and the French the same for Blois, but we’re the ones who have to win the duchy for him. There’s little gain for us in this affair.’ He cast a glance at the smouldering timbers of the burnt houses. ‘And there was nothing worth
scavenging here, anyway. Let’s get to it and face Charles of Blois and his rabid dog de Hayle. You know he’s likely to have run from the castle?’
‘We thought the same,’ said Chandos.
‘He’s bad for business,’ said Calveley. ‘He destroys too much in his path. Leaves nothing for the rest of us. The likes of me that is.’ He grinned. ‘He needs to be killed. Not just for what he did to your man,’ he said to Blackstone.
‘Then we need an agreement between us, Hugh. If anyone is going to kill him it will be me.’
PART TWO
HUNTING THE BEAST
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Will Longdon looked at the twenty-three Welsh archers Kynith had led. They had proffered no one to take his place as ventenar.
‘Is there not one among you?’ Will Longdon asked the sullen men.
‘Kynith ruled with his fist,’ an archer said.
‘Aye, and his tongue. None of us are so bold,’ said another.
‘And who’d want to tell his fellow bowmen how to shoot?’ one of them asked.
‘Would I teach my grandmother how to suck the yolk from an egg?’ Longdon said. ‘Or my father, if I knew who the bastard was, to hone a knife?’
The men grinned, shoulders shrugging, the ageless sign of men uncertain of themselves but who recognized another’s life was no different than their own. ‘We’re better men if we have a leader,’ another acknowledged.
‘Aye,’ came the chorus.
Will Longdon looked from face to face. Their mood seemed better. The loss of their fellow Welshman would pass. ‘When Meuric Kynith led you, you obeyed his orders. There is not a man among us here under Sir Thomas’s command who would tell you how to nock, draw and loose, but there has to be a man you respect to lead you so that when the time comes to stand your ground against a cavalry charge, then you will stay at that man’s side.’
‘We know each other,’ said an archer. ‘We will fight for the man at our side. There is no cause to doubt us.’
‘I don’t doubt you, but archers do not command themselves. We have fought with Sir Thomas and died when that whore-bitch Fate touched our shoulder. Who would you have stand between you and death? A man who harnesses his fear and shows others only his courage. A man who, when he gives an order, is obeyed without question. God’s tears, I’ve followed Sir Thomas and Sir Gilbert into the devil’s lair and if they had not stood firm we would have been lost. Meuric Kynith was such a man too. Honour him and choose another.’
The Welsh archers huddled like a pack of mangy dogs gnawing at the bone of indecision. Murmurs of agreement seeped above their bowed heads. One pushed another, who shook his head. Others urged him to stand as their spokesman.
Will Longdon’s patience was nearing its limits. ‘You scab-arsed whoresons will have to stand in front of charging horse and pikemen advancing in line. You cannot turn and run. You will need a leader who will stand his ground and you will stand with him. Who is it to be? I need an answer or by God I will send you to Sir Thomas and he will choose and then you will face him if you fail in your duty.’
The man nudged forward as the archers’ spokesman pointed at Will Longdon’s feet. ‘You wear Kynith’s boots. He cared more for them than he did a belly full of food and wine.’
‘Kynith and me, we had a pact,’ said Longdon. ‘If I died first he would take my bow, if he died first I would take his boots.’
‘They are a good fit,’ said the archer.
‘They are. Why else would I want them?’
‘If you are in his boots then you can lead us. We will follow you.’
‘I am a centenar. I command a hundred men. You need your own leader.’
‘It’s you or no one. We have decided.’
Stalemate. Longdon would have Kynith’s archers at his shoulder while Jack Halfpenny commanded his own bowmen. He glared at the grim-looking men. Odds were they might desert if he did not agree and Blackstone could ill afford to lose them.
‘I will brook no disobedience. And I swear by the Silver Wheel Goddess I wear at my throat I will put an arrow in the back of any man who turns and runs in battle. It is understood?’
The men nodded their assent.
‘Then you’ve made a pact with the devil. You will stand with me in the front rank. The French like nothing more than killing Sir Thomas’s archers.’
*
Renfred and his scouts brought news of Charles de Blois and his army drawing closer to relieve Auray. Blackstone hoped that de Hayle had joined him but suspected the killer knew when to run clear of a battle. Killing villagers and securing patis from towns was more to his liking.
‘They’ll be here in two days, Sir Thomas,’ said Renfred. ‘Bertrand du Guesclin has joined forces with him. I saw de Mauny’s flags as well.’
‘They were chasing the remnants of Navarre’s army.’
‘And Beaumanoir’s blazon. The Breton lords have rallied to his cause,’ said Renfred.
‘You and your men get food and rest,’ said Blackstone but then stepped closer and held his captain’s reins. ‘Then come to me. I have another task for you.’
Renfred dipped his head in acknowledgement and joined his men.
Two hours later Chandos looked to the horizon. ‘The Breton lords are thinking of making a treaty. An agreement not to fight.’
‘The Bretons here?’ said Blackstone. ‘In this camp?’
Chandos nodded. ‘They are losing their stomach for a battle. There’s talk that Brittany can be divided and if they convince de Montfort and are prepared to parley then we have already lost. Both sides want an agreement. Charles of Blois is a belligerent, stiff-necked man and although his Breton lords have rallied to his flag there are those among them who think agreement can be reached. I think de Montfort’s followers here have been sending messengers.’
‘You’ve spoken to de Montfort?’
‘He’s wavering. They have his ear.’
‘I’ll have his damned balls if he backs down now.’ Blackstone looked back to de Montfort’s pavilion. ‘These peacocks puff out their chests and pretend they want to take the field against each other. If they withdraw with an agreement then they’ll save face.’
‘Thomas, I have no love for any of these Bretons but I will not allow minds to change now. The Prince and the King want Brittany. They shall have it. We will ride either side of de Montfort when the time comes and keep those who whisper in his ear away from him. But there is another matter. We have thieves among us.’
‘I’d be surprised if we had not,’ said Blackstone. ‘Mind you, there’s nothing here a man could take and hide if it were of value.’
‘It’s not a matter to treat lightly. Someone has stolen from de Montfort’s pavilion.’
‘Not his padded chair, surely?’
‘For God’s sake, Thomas. Two thousand francs have gone. He’s ready to scourge the army to find the culprit. He’s accusing our archers or any man who rides with us.’
‘But you have stopped him from doing anything because to begin a witch hunt now would sow discord in the ranks and take his attention from the fight at hand.’
‘I have. But when this business is done his wrath will fall on our heads.’
‘I’ve had piss pots emptied on my head before now. After a while the stench goes. So too will his anger. Once we win the fight the same thing will happen. Two thousand francs is a spit in a lake compared to what he will gain. We need to keep his mind sharp on the task at hand. Now, let’s get ready.’
*
The river north of Auray offered a ford, shallow enough for men to wade across. Blackstone and Chandos took up position on the rising ground on the opposite bank. The two were on the right flank with their men-at-arms and archers, leaving de Montfort in the centre. When the fighting began Blackstone would reinforce de Montfort, which allowed the younger man to think he was at the head of his army, leading it against his challenger for the duchy. Hugh Calveley was in reserve, sulking despite Blackstone’s promise that they wo
uld win the day when he swept his men around the centre and cut off their enemy.
Blackstone rode to Will Longdon who had positioned the archers in a sawtooth formation between Killbere and William Ashford’s men. A sheaf of arrows was stuck in the ground in front of each archer. ‘Will, Jack Halfpenny has your back. What of the Welshmen?’
‘They choose to be here, Thomas. I could find no one to command them.’
‘Then give them their head when the time comes, do you understand?’
Concern creased Will Longdon’s face. ‘In what manner?’
‘We won’t fight on horseback. We’re putting the horses to the rear. I want Blois and his men on their feet, encumbered with weight and tired by climbing up to us. They will see what we’re doing and know their horses offer too tempting a target for you and your men.’
‘We’ll not be as effective against armoured men as we would against horses,’ said Longdon.
‘I know. Bring down those you can. Force them to raise their shields and huddle against your arrows. When you have done as much as you can come in hard and fast on our heels when the bloodletting starts. Sword and knife, Will. Get among them.’
Will Longdon nodded. ‘These Welsh are a bloodthirsty lot, Thomas, but I’d fancy our chances more if we could kill as many as we can before we abandon our bows.’
‘I have no wish to see you or any of the lads harmed, but the French and Bretons will not expect it. Speak to Jack, let him cover you as close as he can when you attack.’
There was no more to be said. The two men acknowledged each other and Blackstone turned the bastard horse away. Longdon faced the Welsh archers who were the closest in formation. ‘I warned you. Today we’ll see who can thrash the devil and keep the angels at his back.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The curse that was men’s ambitions emerged a few hours later when over four thousand armoured horsemen came within sight of Auray’s walls. A wild meadow of colour emerged as pennons and banners fluttered across the open ground. Sir John Chandos and de Montfort followed Blackstone’s plan and placed their dismounted army in three front-line divisions with the archers on the right flank. Blackstone, Killbere, de Montfort and Chandos rode out to meet de Blois and his delegates, who splashed across the ford. Blackstone waited, letting them come to him. When the men drew up they remained silent as their eyes went beyond the riders and took in Blackstone’s battle formation.