The man stuttered, wild-eyed, then turned and ran, stumbling across the open ground towards the burnt-out huts. The villagers cried out, a howl of belly-deep pain for the loss of their loved ones, and chased after him. Fear drove him two hundred yards before they fell on him. Like wolves at a kill they tore him apart.

CHAPTER TEN

Meulon refused any assistance to mount his horse. No words of concern or cajoling persuaded him to accept help in front of the men and surviving villagers. Will Longdon was brushed away. Pride overcame pain.

‘There’s a piece of the blade in him, Thomas,’ said Will Longdon. ‘Its tip must have snapped off. I cleaned the wound and pressed plantain into it to cleanse the cut, then crushed wild garlic to make a poultice and keep poison at bay. He’s bandaged with a strip of clean linen, but if we do not get the knife point out of him... and... and I cannot tell if it chipped his rib... and if it has, then—’

Blackstone pressed a hand onto his centenar’s shoulder. ‘I know, he’ll die. Will, you have done everything you could. Now we must find a barber-surgeon.’

Killbere pressed his foot into the stirrup. ‘And where do we go for that? We’re days from Chandos and Meulon will be dead in three if he’s lucky.’

‘Villaines will have someone,’ Blackstone said.

Killbere reached out and caught his friend’s arm. ‘Thomas! We cannot turn him over to the French. Even if they have a surgeon they have no cause to help us. They would cut his throat rather than attend him.’

Blackstone tugged the reins so the bastard horse did not bite Killbere’s mount. ‘We have saved French villagers close to their domain. Once they fall under Villaines’s protection they will pay taxes. In offering them sanctuary we give the town income.’

‘And that is all you are going to offer whoever commands the town? Scrag-arsed, half-starved peasants?’

‘I have more to offer.’

‘And you’re going to share this with me?’

‘Not yet.’ Blackstone spurred the great beast. There was little enough time to find a surgeon.

*

Blackstone drove the survivors from the two villages at a harsh pace. Yet they kept up for they knew if they did not they would be abandoned and that meant death from other routiers, and they were determined to remain under the protection of the English knight who had given them life and allowed them to exact revenge. Their sweat and exertion were repaid as they came in sight of the town’s castle. It had been damaged during the war but the town’s defences had been rebuilt by the capable captain in command.