‘Sir Hugh?’ de Montfort said. ‘What do you think we should do? You have fought across France. You must have an opinion. Are we to sit here and do nothing?’

Hugh Calveley remained stony-faced. The Cheshire knight was a pragmatic fighter who served the Crown; he had forged his own company of mercenaries, men who were as loyal as Blackstone’s were to him. If the whelp was looking for some comforting words he had turned to the wrong man. ‘You ask me? I follow Sir John’s command and Thomas Blackstone knows this land better than any other. Why don’t you listen to them? You run the risk of disharmony, my lord. Stabbing away with a blunt argument does no one any good. The men know when their commanders are in disagreement and it seeps through them, it rankles. In the name of the King and for God’s sake, relinquish your desire to lead where you have not led before.’

De Montfort’s face coloured.

‘And you were afraid I would upset him?’ said Blackstone in an aside to Chandos.

Diplomat that he was, Chandos soothed de Montfort’s discomfort. ‘These men are here to give you victory. They have bled on the fields of France. Their bluntness comes from harsh experience.’ He cast a warning glance to Calveley who needed no one to make excuses for him.

‘And not one man here doubts your courage,’ added Blackstone. ‘You will be in the front rank. You will lead the army. Our suggestions are only to ensure that it gives you victory. Nothing less.’

John de Montfort’s temper cooled. ‘Then I had better see to my men,’ he said and saved face by walking over to his waiting captains.

‘Good to see you true to form, Hugh,’ said Killbere.

‘He’ll bear a grudge, you know that,’ said Blackstone.

‘Aye, I dare say. The sooner this business is done with the better, Thomas,’ said the Cheshire mercenary. ‘My men have business to attend to elsewhere. The King might not openly confess to showing support for the upstart and the French the same for Blois, but we’re the ones who have to win the duchy for him. There’s little gain for us in this affair.’ He cast a glance at the smouldering timbers of the burnt houses. ‘And there was nothing worth scavenging here, anyway. Let’s get to it and face Charles of Blois and his rabid dog de Hayle. You know he’s likely to have run from the castle?’

‘We thought the same,’ said Chandos.

‘He’s bad for business,’ said Calveley. ‘He destroys too much in his path. Leaves nothing for the rest of us. The likes of me that is.’ He grinned. ‘He needs to be killed. Not just for what he did to your man,’ he said to Blackstone.

‘Then we need an agreement between us, Hugh. If anyone is going to kill him it will be me.’

PART TWO