Beyard nodded and tried to stand but his legs gave way. Ashford returned with a wineskin and handed it to Blackstone, who raised it to Beyard’s lips. ‘Slowly, my friend.’

The Gascon captain gulped eagerly until Blackstone pulled it away from his lips. ‘How far can you walk?’

‘I’m weak, Sir Thomas. No food or drink for... I don’t know...’ His voice trailing off, he forced his back against the wall but once again his knees buckled.

‘I’ll carry you,’ said Blackstone. ‘We must move.’

Beyard pointed to his nearest companions. ‘That one’s only a boy; the older man is one of de Grailly’s captains.’

John Jacob bent and held the flame over the figures lying in the straw. ‘The boy’s alive but the other’s dead.’

Beyard looked about to faint. ‘I kept the boy alive best I could... Said I’d... see him through... The other… three… help them… They fought well.’

Ashford and John Jacob roused the men, all weakened by their privation. The wine and the chance to escape gave them strength. One was able to help support his fellow captive, while Ashford wrapped the third, weaker man’s arm around his shoulder and heaved him to his feet.

Beyard’s head sank onto his chest. Blackstone lifted him up and pressed him against the wall, bent and let him drop over his shoulder. He glanced at the limp child and felt a momentary stab of pain. The boy stared at Blackstone with a look of fear and helplessness. He had seen his own son, Henry, show the same expression when his mother and sister were slain years before.

‘John, take the lad.’

Blackstone’s squire lifted the frail boy over his shoulder.

‘All right, let’s get ourselves out of here.’

Ashford and John Jacob lit the way to where Will Longdon and Kynith waited, squatting a few steps down from the entrance. Ashford threw the torch back into the darkness.

Longdon and Kynith scrambled to their feet. ‘We kept out of sight. The yard’s so crowded you couldn’t fit a goose fletching between those huddling there,’ said Will Longdon. ‘There’s enough panic among them to keep their minds off us.’

‘We push our way through,’ said Blackstone. ‘No one will give us a second thought. They’ll think we’re carrying injured friends. Will, you and Kynith help these men.’ He turned to Ashford. ‘Lead the way. There’s a postern gate in the outer ward.’ He nodded for his archers to open the gate.