Meulon and Renfred’s line of defence edged closer together as men fell from their ranks. A new sound whirled through the air as slings’ leather cords were whipped by the archers. At forty yards a hurled river pebble or ragged flint could stun a man, at twenty-five they smashed bones and killed. Will Longdon and Jack Halfpenny had stood their ground and waited until they could inflict the most damage at close quarters. A hailstorm lashed into the attackers, who’d thought themselves safe from archers since no arrow had been shot once Blackstone’s men approached to defend the riverbank. Routiers raised their arms yet still stones broke bones in hands, they blinded men; sword and mace were dropped; teeth shattered; cheekbones crushed. The wounded men’s courage drove them forward a few faltering steps where Meulon’s men hamstrung them and plunged swords into throats. The carnage was at its most desperate.

Blackstone, slathered with blood, turned, searching for Tom Brook, but he lay dead. Killbere heaved for breath, his shield almost in tatters from the strikes against it. He spat blood from a blow to the face, half turned and rammed his sword’s pommel into his attacker’s eye, and as the man recoiled, he twisted on his heel slashing the blade between the man’s ear and neck.

‘Thomas!’ he yelled. ‘It’s time!’

Blackstone’s men were being forced back despite the toll they were taking on du Guesclin’s men. ‘William! Tom’s dead.’

William Ashford took a pace back from his line of men. There was no need to question. He ran for the quarry.

‘De Hayle? You see his blazon?’ Blackstone said to Killbere, then rammed his shield against two men, braced his legs and forced them off balance; stepping forward, he kicked one fallen man in the face, snapping his neck, and lunged Wolf Sword into the other.

‘He’s not here, dammit!’ Killbere said. They were being pushed back further now.

Blackstone saw his ranks closing. The archers had bought more time and slowed the advance over the riverbank’s lip.

‘Fall back!’ Blackstone bellowed over the screaming horde. ‘Will! Now! Get back now! John, give the signal.’