I think my eyebrows must have knitted together, so fiercely did I frown at hearing this. ‘Tell me, did any of them mention the three suns in the sky?’

Maredudd buckled a greave to my left calf. ‘No. What three suns?’

‘You mean you did not see them?’

‘Obviously not, my lord.’

‘It was a sign from God, although I do not know what it signified. But I will visit the camp as soon as you have tacked me up. I have things to say to those Frenchmen!’

By the time I reached Wiltshire’s camp it was in chaos. The French and Breton mercenaries were muttering together, while the Irish had seen the three suns and were on their knees singing psalms, convinced it was a sign of God’s displeasure. Their commander was making no effort to address their fears. ‘You have to reassure them, James,’ I urged, keeping my voice low to prevent it carrying through the fabric of his tent.

Wiltshire raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘And what language do you suggest I use?’

I could see that his heart was not in the battle ahead, let alone in quelling the present uproar in his camp. ‘Sign language for all I care,’ I retorted. ‘Promise the French and Irish an extra groat for the day and show the Bretons that you believe the suns were sent by God to encourage them. Surely you can do that.’

He stared at me in bewilderment. ‘Do you really believe that yourself, Jasper?’

I threw up my hands. ‘It does not matter what I believe! It is what they believe that counts. That is what I am going to tell my camp and then we shall form our battle lines and deploy to confront York. There is no time to lose.’