Beyard was strong enough to walk unaided but if it came to a fight, he wouldn’t last long. Meulon moved him and the boy into a depression behind a cluster of rocks. The boy was trembling from fear and when he tried to speak he stammered so that even the Spaniard ben Josef could make no sense of his words. The boy’s comfort lay in being close to Beyard, whom he clearly considered his protector.

‘Beyard, put an arm around the lad. He needs assurance that no harm will come to him,’ said Meulon. ‘He’s shivering like an abandoned kitten in a rainstorm.’

‘He’ll be safe with me. Cover us with a shield and put a sword in my hand. If the bastard de Hayle comes, then we must all be ready.’

Meulon did as the Gascon captain requested. The rules of battle dictated a baggage train and its attendants and the pages who tended the horses should remain unmolested, but routiers paid no heed to the restrictions placed on men of honour. He ushered ben Josef to lie beneath an open cart and threw a blanket over him. Ben Josef clutched his medicine satchel to him as closely as Beyard held the boy.

Meulon used the wagons to set up a defence, placing his men between each one. He ordered the reluctant attendants to use the poles from their master’s pavilions to build a barricade. Meulon needed only to glare at anyone who dared question his command for that demand to be carried out. He doused the cooking fires, and took six of his men and concealed them in the treeline. A handful of men coming out of hiding and striking an enemy from the rear if they penetrated the camp could turn the tide. How many of the Beast’s men would come? Would de Hayle himself try to snatch Beyard? Was his ransom worth the risk? Meulon put his back against a wagon and helped the men shift it into position. His wound complained. He tested it again. He decided it would hold long enough to defend the camp in a fight.

Once the remaining twenty-five men-at-arms were in position, he waited. The roar from the fighting below meant little could be heard in the camp. Birds had fled, flying deeper into the forest. What warning would there be if de Hayle’s mercenaries struck? He could do no more than he had done to defend the camp. And if the battle ebbing and flowing below turned in favour of Lord Charles de Blois, and they defeated de Montfort and Blackstone, then concern about an attack by mercenaries would be swept away by the rushing tide surging towards them. The pageboys and baggage attendants would be spared but they would kill him and his few defenders.