Below them, their enemy raised their pennons. A cacophony of trumpets from the French tore the air. Emboldened, they bellowed their resolve, battening down their fear. Beyard spurred his horse, his men galloping stirrup to stirrup. A broadhead thrust into an enemy already milling in disorder. He saw de Grailly lead the main charge. The ground shook. Horses whinnied. The armies clashed. Men screamed frenzied curses. Others pain. Sounds of battle soared. Beyard’s horse trampled men beneath its iron-shod hooves. He slashed down and back, cutting a swathe through men who jabbed with lance and spear, while his cavalry crushed men as if they were riding through a field of wheat. Horses came down as Frenchmen lunged spears into their chests. Some carried their riders forward another thirty yards or more and then fell, writhing in agony as the rider fought to free himself before men, hacking savagely, fell on him.

Beyard saw de Grailly in the midst of the battle, wielding his axe, his blood-splattered shield testament to the ferocity of the fight. Beyard heeled his mount, knocking more men to the ground. He felt the first shudder through the great beast’s muscles as four opponents struck out bravely at the war horse. Two rammed spears into its chest, another slashed at its legs. The beast’s head reared, eyes wide, teeth bared in agony. Beyard was ready for the fourth man who swung a mace at him as he leapt free from the dying horse. Its wildly thrashing death throes kept its tormentors at bay as Beyard, grunting with effort and shaking sweat from his eyes, slammed his shield against his attacker, forcing strength into his legs to push the bigger man off balance; as the man twisted away Beyard slashed down and severed his arm at the shoulder.

He stepped clear and began to attack other men standing in defensive knots. They broke when his Gascons joined him, felling men at the edges, leaving the rest vulnerable. The Gascons pressed on. Their opponents fell back. Some begged for mercy. It was denied. Blood-lust smothered men’s thoughts as thickly as bloodstains smeared mail and shield.