‘I’ll have his damned balls if he backs down now.’ Blackstone looked back to de Montfort’s pavilion. ‘These peacocks puff out their chests and pretend they want to take the field against each other. If they withdraw with an agreement then they’ll save face.’

‘Thomas, I have no love for any of these Bretons but I will not allow minds to change now. The Prince and the King want Brittany. They shall have it. We will ride either side of de Montfort when the time comes and keep those who whisper in his ear away from him. But there is another matter. We have thieves among us.’

‘I’d be surprised if we had not,’ said Blackstone. ‘Mind you, there’s nothing here a man could take and hide if it were of value.’

‘It’s not a matter to treat lightly. Someone has stolen from de Montfort’s pavilion.’

‘Not his padded chair, surely?’

‘For God’s sake, Thomas. Two thousand francs have gone. He’s ready to scourge the army to find the culprit. He’s accusing our archers or any man who rides with us.’

‘But you have stopped him from doing anything because to begin a witch hunt now would sow discord in the ranks and take his attention from the fight at hand.’

‘I have. But when this business is done his wrath will fall on our heads.’

‘I’ve had piss pots emptied on my head before now. After a while the stench goes. So too will his anger. Once we win the fight the same thing will happen. Two thousand francs is a spit in a lake compared to what he will gain. We need to keep his mind sharp on the task at hand. Now, let’s get ready.’

*

The river north of Auray offered a ford, shallow enough for men to wade across. Blackstone and Chandos took up position on the rising ground on the opposite bank. The two were on the right flank with their men-at-arms and archers, leaving de Montfort in the centre. When the fighting began Blackstone would reinforce de Montfort, which allowed the younger man to think he was at the head of his army, leading it against his challenger for the duchy. Hugh Calveley was in reserve, sulking despite Blackstone’s promise that they would win the day when he swept his men around the centre and cut off their enemy.

Blackstone rode to Will Longdon who had positioned the archers in a sawtooth formation between Killbere and William Ashford’s men. A sheaf of arrows was stuck in the ground in front of each archer. ‘Will, Jack Halfpenny has your back. What of the Welshmen?’

‘They choose to be here, Thomas. I could find no one to command them.’

‘Then give them their head when the time comes, do you understand?’

Concern creased Will Longdon’s face. ‘In what manner?’