As Blackstone and Killbere strode through the corridors, armed and intimidating, looking as though they had fought the devil and won, lesser mortals stepped aside. Killbere’s scowl aided their decision. The castle’s inner ward was busy with men and horses who awaited their orders.

‘Jean le Bon dead. The old bastard,’ said Killbere. ‘Who’d have thought after you tried to kill him at Poitiers that years later he would rot on silken sheets, chewed away by disease in a foreign land. Sweet justice, Thomas. It would be a damned miracle if the Dauphin can be stopped before he’s crowned. We should fight with de Grailly and bring his wretched son down as well.’

‘Whatever we think of the Dauphin, he’s a clever man, more so than his father. He might not be a warrior prince but he held us out of Paris the last time we fought. Navarre doesn’t have the skill but Jean de Grailly has. He might yet deliver the crown to an ally of our King.’

‘The French won’t stop until you’re dead and they seize France back from England. You don’t believe the scheming rat the Dauphin would stop his vendetta against you?’

‘No. But we aren’t about to face him on the field of battle. We are not involved in Navarre’s conflict.’

‘Then why don’t we help him and bring the House of Valois to its knees? Even if it means siding with Navarre? At least we would have Jean de Grailly and Beyard at our side.’

‘And defy the Prince?’

‘You haven’t done that before? What’s the worst that can happen? He’ll banish us again. I keep telling you: we can make more money and live a better life in Italy. Father Torellini banks our money with the Bardi. We have enough to live on. We have fought for so many years we should end it with defeating the French. I would die a happy man.’

‘When we fought at Launac I thought you might die a happy man then.’

‘I grant you, Thomas, my vitals were stirred at the drumbeat and trumpet and the banners and pennons flashing their colours across the ranks. It was a fight worth having but it did not take us any closer to defeating the French Crown.’

‘We do what the Prince asks and give de Grailly and Beyard a chance to go north.’

‘Surely you can’t believe they can win?’

‘The Prince says that Chandos has controlled the routiers, which means the French can’t recruit them.’ Blackstone stopped before they reached the men. ‘What doubts we have we keep to ourselves, Gilbert.’

Killbere spat and wiped a hand across his beard. ‘I don’t want to see Beyard or any of our Gascons throwing their lives away for a turd like Navarre. They need us at their side.’