Blackstone surfaced. A father’s instinct had made him dive into the fast-flowing river. He heard and saw the men hailing their comrades on the walls. He reached midstream; the child bobbed ten feet away from him, its clothes puffed with air keeping it afloat for those first vital minutes. There was no sign of its mother. Blackstone grabbed the child. It was alive, eyes wide, mouth gasping from the cold water. He cradled it to his chest, kicking hard against the current. He heard Jack Halfpenny cry ‘Loose!’ and saw garrison soldiers fall as they ran along the towpath towards them. He kept his eyes on the soldiers and then his head and shoulders slammed into a boat. Killbere had cut loose the mooring lines when Blackstone plunged in and the oarsman had pulled hard into the centre of the stream as Halfpenny’s archers kept the enemy at bay. John Jacob and Killbere leaned down and heaved Blackstone half out the water as Will Longdon took the child from him.

Killbere shouted. ‘Let the current take us! Jack, release your line!’

The boats spun in the tidal flow. Crossbow bolts splashed into the water and thudded into the hull. Halfpenny’s men were too unbalanced to shoot back and bent instead to the oars to pull them further out of range. In Blackstone’s boat Kynith grabbed Will Longdon’s shoulder and pointed as the woman bobbed to the surface.

‘There!’

‘I can’t swim,’ said Longdon. ‘Leave her.’

Kynith pulled off his jupon. ‘I can reach her.’

Will Longdon went to grab him but the Welsh archer threw himself into the current.

‘Kynith is in the water,’ Longdon yelled.

Blackstone and Killbere turned and saw him striking out towards the woman, who was floating face up.

‘Turn and hold,’ Blackstone said.

Men on the one side of the boat lifted their oars as the others pulled hard, turning them broadside to the current. Kynith tugged the woman to him as she spat water. He tried to calm her, but she panicked. Wrapping a strong arm around her, he managed to constrain her long enough for them to reach the boat. Ashford and Killbere hauled her aboard as Blackstone and Longdon reached down to the grinning Welshman.

‘Can’t have a child without a mother, Sir Thomas.’

‘You stupid whoreson. You never knew yours,’ said Longdon, reaching for the man’s belt to lift him clear.

‘Aye, well, you and me both, you English bastard. All the more reason to—’ His body bucked as a crossbow bolt tore into his shoulder. Longdon fell back as Blackstone held Kynith. Another quarrel struck the Welshman.

‘They’ve got our range!’ Longdon said.

John Jacob lunged for Blackstone and pulled him away from the wounded archer. Had he not the next two quarrels that slammed into the boat would have struck him.