As she steps forward the men stand aside to make room for her beside her lord. She looks about at the circle of faces that wait for his words. She wonders how many of them wish she would just stay below with the women and children. Let them wish. Richard has never wanted that, even now with this failure upon her. It has saved her, these past weeks, to be at the centre of his stratagems, poring over maps, drawing up plans, deciding the appointments of officers and captains; weighing up men’s competence and ambition, where they will serve best and how far they can be trusted. She has poured her energy into it to quench her grief. So, yes, let them wish.

‘My lord, I cannot imagine but that your first move will be to ride to Pontoise, relieve its garrison, and knock the French king back on his garlicky arse.’

The men bark surprised laughter. They swagger a little as she smiles at them, and she knows she has bought her welcome.

Pontoise will be their first test. Both Cecily and Richard know it. Charles, clearly cured of whatever illness assailed him, has been pounding the walls of the English-held town for a month and more. It must not be lost. For it sits on the confluence of the Seine and Oise, and beside it runs the straight road the Caesars built to link Paris to the coast. Without Pontoise, both river and road will be open to Richard’s enemies and, even with this mighty force, he will struggle to hold Normandy.

‘That is what we are about, indeed,’ Richard confirms.

‘And with these bold men around you, surely you cannot fail.’ Her head is high and she looks a challenge at them.

Richard turns from his men to face her, kisses her hand, secretly winks. It is rehearsed, for they both know how the fear of a proud woman’s scorn can put heart in a man.

It is needed. There are seasoned veterans of the wars here. They know how hard the fight will be and they fear death. There are new men with careers to make, who fear humiliation even more. Most have not fought under Richard before. All know this to be his biggest military command. They want to trust him. Wonder if they should. A show of bravado helps.

Looking about her, Cecily sees each man pull himself up to stand a little taller.

‘I am most sure of it.’ Richard turns back to the men. ‘My lady’s word is good. Tomorrow we land in Honfleur, then up the river to Rouen, straight. We stay there no longer than it takes to say a mass and seek God’s blessing for our enterprise. He will most assuredly give it. Two days, no more. Be ready, we ride for Pontoise. Now …’

Cecily listens as the plans they have made together are laid out.