HUNTING THE BEAST

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Will Longdon looked at the twenty-three Welsh archers Kynith had led. They had proffered no one to take his place as ventenar.

‘Is there not one among you?’ Will Longdon asked the sullen men.

‘Kynith ruled with his fist,’ an archer said.

‘Aye, and his tongue. None of us are so bold,’ said another.

‘And who’d want to tell his fellow bowmen how to shoot?’ one of them asked.

‘Would I teach my grandmother how to suck the yolk from an egg?’ Longdon said. ‘Or my father, if I knew who the bastard was, to hone a knife?’

The men grinned, shoulders shrugging, the ageless sign of men uncertain of themselves but who recognized another’s life was no different than their own. ‘We’re better men if we have a leader,’ another acknowledged.

‘Aye,’ came the chorus.

Will Longdon looked from face to face. Their mood seemed better. The loss of their fellow Welshman would pass. ‘When Meuric Kynith led you, you obeyed his orders. There is not a man among us here under Sir Thomas’s command who would tell you how to nock, draw and loose, but there has to be a man you respect to lead you so that when the time comes to stand your ground against a cavalry charge, then you will stay at that man’s side.’

‘We know each other,’ said an archer. ‘We will fight for the man at our side. There is no cause to doubt us.’

‘I don’t doubt you, but archers do not command themselves. We have fought with Sir Thomas and died when that whore-bitch Fate touched our shoulder. Who would you have stand between you and death? A man who harnesses his fear and shows others only his courage. A man who, when he gives an order, is obeyed without question. God’s tears, I’ve followed Sir Thomas and Sir Gilbert into the devil’s lair and if they had not stood firm we would have been lost. Meuric Kynith was such a man too. Honour him and choose another.’

The Welsh archers huddled like a pack of mangy dogs gnawing at the bone of indecision. Murmurs of agreement seeped above their bowed heads. One pushed another, who shook his head. Others urged him to stand as their spokesman.

Will Longdon’s patience was nearing its limits. ‘You scab-arsed whoresons will have to stand in front of charging horse and pikemen advancing in line. You cannot turn and run. You will need a leader who will stand his ground and you will stand with him. Who is it to be? I need an answer or by God I will send you to Sir Thomas and he will choose and then you will face him if you fail in your duty.’