‘Now!’ Blackstone yelled to de Montfort but the surrounding clamour drowned out his voice. De Montfort fought with courage. He lifted his visor to suck cool air into his bursting lungs. Blackstone swiped Wolf Sword’s blade down, slamming it shut a heartbeat before a Frenchman jabbed his spear where de Montfort’s face had been. The thrust put the spearman off balance. Wolf Sword arced and cut a wound into the man’s neck so only sinew and skin held his head to his body.

Blackstone turned to John Jacob and made the command that should have been given by de Montfort. ‘Now, John!’

John Jacob rammed his sword in the dirt and raised de Montfort’s banner. He waved it back and forth as Blackstone protected him. A trumpet sounded, and then another: their notes soaring high above the noise of battle. The flag and the trumpet signal caused de Montfort to turn and look across the soldiers’ bobbing heads, dipping and rising beneath bloodied swords and axes. He saw Hugh Calveley spur on his mercenary cavalry to outflank de Blois.

John Jacob thrust the banner into the hands of the nearest man, retrieved his sword and strode the few paces to where Blackstone shielded de Montfort. A French knight struck Blackstone hard with his shield as another rained repeated blows against him. A third man had isolated de Montfort. Blackstone blocked, parried and held his ground but were it not for John Jacob coming in at the side and killing one of the attackers Blackstone would have died. The two men were now a stride ahead of de Montfort, who benefited from their killing prowess. They heard Killbere’s voice. He was twenty yards away, fighting through with Chandos. Du Guesclin’s banner wavered – and then fell. A victorious cry went up from Chandos’s men as they hoisted his flag. They had cut the heart out of the battle. Blackstone realized the most competent of the French commanders had been killed or captured and Killbere was leading the men in a flanking attack with the archers at his back, killing the fallen who had no value.

‘Blois!’ Blackstone bellowed. ‘Where is he?’

Killbere had no time to answer as men-at-arms engulfed him; he disappeared from view under raised shields. Blackstone turned towards him. ‘John!’

John Jacob and John de Montfort turned at their name. Neither hesitated but cut their way through the mêlée. As they turned so did the men behind them, determined to follow. The action shifted the weight of men in the battle and swayed the immediate outcome, fragmenting the French ranks. Hugh Calveley’s horsemen smashed into their rear.