‘I did not see his blazon at Cocherel,’ said Beyard. ‘But I saw him. The men with him were skinners. Two hundred and more. Some Germans, Spanish and Gascons but Hungarians as well. He was definitely there. He’s the kind of man who would remove his blazon so we would not identify him. He’s in the French’s pay. When I was taken from the battlefield I and the other prisoners saw how viciously he attacked villagers. There were several of us. Two died from their wounds, another in the cell at the castle. He had sport with the others. He let his men kill them slowly. I was worth more to him because I was Lord de Grailly’s captain. The castle is not his. He holds it for Charles of Blois.’

‘And if he is behind its walls, then that is where he will stay,’ said Chandos. ‘He knows we cannot take it by siege. He will wait for Blois to face us and then he’ll escape.’

‘He’s already gone,’ said Killbere. ‘He knows what to expect and if he’s in the pay of the French staying behind those walls serves no purpose.’

‘Gilbert’s right,’ said Blackstone. ‘He’s fled already. I’ll find him and I’ll have him drawn and quartered and send each part of him to the villages he destroyed.’

Beyard sighed. ‘And I’ll be the one wielding the axe, Sir Thomas.’ He nodded towards ben Josef. ‘Whatever potions he makes we should give to the horses. I can feel my strength returning. I saw Meulon training with his men and Renfred said he’d been wounded but the Jew had healed him.’

‘It was a wound bad enough to bring him down,’ said Killbere.

‘Keep the Spaniard with us, Sir Thomas. He can question the boy who was captured with me. The lad was caught up in the fight but his French is poor so I couldn’t understand much of what he was saying. But I think what happened to him is important.’

‘He seems to trust you. He has a name?’

‘Lázaro.’

‘I’ll have ben Josef question him when the boy’s had some nourishment and is strong enough. Sit with him and reassure him that he’s safe.’

Sir John Chandos nudged Blackstone. ‘We need to talk.’

He led Blackstone and Killbere towards where the commanders waited at his pavilion. John de Montfort sat in a padded chair, one leg over the other, his impatience plain to see. When Blackstone and Chandos came into view, he jumped up. The English routier commanders waited stoically. Their companies had surrounded Auray and breached the low defences when Chandos ordered the archers to set fire to the roofs. The surrender had come quickly and Chandos had restrained de Montfort’s Bretons from sweeping through the town.

‘De Montfort insists on being in the front line,’ said Chandos. ‘Hugh Calveley has the bit between his teeth; he wants to be in the front ranks too but I have him in reserve. All these men want the glory but we must control the fight. And between us we must protect de Montfort. Winning the battle against Charles of Blois is worthless if Montfort is killed in the fray.’