‘Today is a sacred day when God hears our prayers and blesses us with His grace because we have humbled ourselves before him,’ de Montfort repeated what Blackstone told him. ‘We fight the French again because they wish to deny our King’s rightful claim over Brittany in my name: John de Montfort. We must fight twice our number but we are worth four times... FOUR times the value of every man who faces us. Look at them, how they huddle, shoulder to shoulder, fearful of fighting alone; they step forward with spears because they fear your sword and axe. They are already lost souls. To win this day is to gain great honour.’

De Montfort’s voice rose as he warmed to his task and the mention of honour. Blackstone nudged the bastard horse closer so he was at his shoulder. ‘Now you tell them there’s looting and booty to be had,’ he said.

De Montfort scowled. ‘Today is about honour,’ he insisted.

‘No, today is about those men killing enough of your enemy so they can strip silver buckles, rich silks and weapons from the dead while leaving alive any worthy prisoners to be ransomed. Honour is for the knightly class, looting the dead for the others. Repeat what I tell you again and this time draw your sword, rise up in the stirrups and bellow so that even your enemy can hear you. Ready yourself, my lord, for now you must unleash the devil.’

De Montfort did and said everything Blackstone told him. He stood in the stirrups, sword aloft. ‘You will find riches on the dead. They are yours for the taking! Fill your belly with fire and your hearts with lust for their silver! Kill them and take your rewards!’

A thunderous roar rose from the men. It swept across the hillside, rolling across the river and striking the French in a mailed fist of defiance and threat that wounded men’s souls.

Blackstone pulled his horse away. ‘Now we stand and fight,’ he said.

CHAPTER NINETEEN