In the Days of Chivalry: A Tale of the Times of the Black Prince by Everett-Green (best romantic books to read TXT) 📖

Gascony as a whole was always loyal to the English cause, and Bordeaux too well knew what she owed to the English trade ever to be backward when called upon by the English King. Speedily a fine band of soldiers was assembled, and at dawn one day the march northward was commenced.

The little army mustered some five thousand men, all well fed and in capital condition for the march. Raymond rode by his brother's side well in the van, and he noticed presently, amongst the new recruits who had joined them, another man of very tall stature, who also wore a black visor over his face. He was plainly a friend to the unknown knight (if knight he were) who had sailed in their vessel, for they rode side by side deep in talk; and behind them, in close and regular array, rode a number of their immediate followers, all wearing a black tuft in their steel caps and a black band round their arm.

However, there was nothing very noteworthy in this. Many men had followers marked by some distinctive badge, and the sombre little contingent excited small notice. They all looked remarkably fine soldiers, and appeared to be under excellent discipline. More than that was not asked of any man, and the Gascons were well known to be amongst the best soldiers of the day.

The early start and the long daylight enabled the gallant little band to push on in the one day to the banks of the Charente, and within a few miles of St. Jean itself. There, however, a halt was called, for the French were in a remarkably good position, and it was necessary to take counsel how they might best be attacked.

In the first place there was the river to be crossed, and the one bridge was in the hands of the enemy, who had fortified it, and would be able to hold it against great odds. They were superior in numbers to their assailants, and probably knew their advantage.

Gaston, who well understood the French nature, was the first to make a likely suggestion.

"Let us appear to retreat," he said. "They will then see our small numbers, and believe that we are flying through fear of them. Doubtless they will at once rush out to pursue and attack us, and after we have drawn them from their strong position, we can turn again upon them and slay them, or drive them into the river."

This suggestion was received with great favour, and it was decided to act upon it that very day. There were still several hours of daylight before them, and the men, who had had wine and bread distributed to them, were full of eagerness for the fray.

The French, who were quite aware of the strength of their own position, and very confident of ultimate victory, were narrowly watching the movements of the English, whose approach had been for some time expected by them. They were certain that they could easily withstand the onslaught of the whole body, if these were bold enough to attack, and they well knew how terribly thinned would the English ranks become before they could hope to cross the bridge and march upon the main body of the French army encamped before the town.

Great, then, was the exultation of the French when they saw how much terror they had inspired in the heart of the foe. They were eagerly observing their movements; they saw that a council had been called amongst the chiefs, and that deliberations had been entered into by them. But so valiant were the English in fight, and so many were the victories they had obtained with numbers far inferior to those of the foe, that there was a natural sense of uncertainty as to the result of a battle, even when all the chances of the war seemed to be against the foreign foe. But when the trumpets actually sounded the retreat, and they saw the whole body moving slowly away, then indeed did they feel that triumph was near, and a great shout of derision and anger rose up in the still evening air.

"To horse, men, and after them!" was the word given, and a cry of fierce joy went up from the whole army. "My Lords of England, you will not get off in that way. You have come hither by your own will; you shall not leave until you have paid your scot."

No great order was observed as the Frenchmen sprang to horse and galloped across the bridge, and so after the retreating foe. Every man was eager to bear his share in the discomfiture of the English contingent, and hardly staying to arm themselves fully, the eager, hot-headed French soldiers, horse and foot, swung along in any sort of order, only eager to cut to pieces the flower of the English chivalry (as their leaders had dubbed this little band), and inflict a dark stain upon the honour of Edward's brilliant arms.

In the ranks of this same English contingent, now in rapid and orderly retreat, there was to the full as much exultation and lust of battle as in the hearts of their pursuing foes. Every man grasped his weapon and set his teeth firmly, the footmen marching steadily onwards at a rapid and swinging pace, whilst the horsemen, who brought up the rear -- for they were to be the first to charge when the trumpet sounded the advance -- kept turning their heads to watch the movement of the foe, and sent up a brief huzzah as they saw that their ruse had proved successful, and that their foes were coming fast after them.

"Keep thou by my side in the battle today, Raymond," said Gaston, as he looked to the temper of his weapons and glanced backwards over his shoulder. "Thou hast been something more familiar with the pen than the sword of late -- and thy faithful esquire likewise. Fight, then, by my side, and together we will meet and overcome the foe. They will fight like wolves, I doubt not, for they will be bitterly wrathful when they see the trick we have played upon them. Wherefore quit not my side, be the fighting never so hot, for I would have thee ever with me."

"I wish for nothing better for myself," answered Raymond, with a fond proud glance at the stalwart Gaston, who now towered a full head taller above him, and was a very king amongst men.

He was mounted on a fine black war horse, who had carried his master victoriously through many charges before today. Raymond's horse was much lighter in build, a wiry little barb with a distinct Arab strain, fearless in battle, and fleet as the wind, but without the weight or solidity of Gaston's noble charger. Indeed, Gaston had found some fault with the creature's lack of weight for withstanding the onslaught of cavalry charge; but he suited Raymond so well in other ways that the latter had declined to make any change, and told his brother smilingly that his great Lucifer had weight and strength for both.

Scarcely had Gaston given this charge to his brother before the trumpets sounded a new note, and at once the compact little body of horse and foot halted, wheeled round, and put themselves in position for the advance. Another blast from those same trumpets, given with all the verve and joyousness of coming victory, and the horses of their own accord sprang forward to the attack. Then the straggling and dismayed body of Frenchmen who had been pushing on in advance of their fellows to fall upon the flying English, found themselves opposed to one of those magnificent cavalry charges which made the glory and the terror of the English arms throughout the reign of the great Edward.

Vainly trying to rally themselves, and with shouts of "St. Dennis!" "St. Dennis!" the Frenchmen rushed upon their foes; and the detachments from behind coming up quickly, the engagement became general at once, and was most hotly contested on both sides.

Gaston was one of the foremost to charge into the ranks of the French, and singling out the tallest and strongest adversary he could see, rode full upon him, and was quickly engaged in a fierce hand-to-hand conflict. Raymond was close beside him, and soon found himself engaged in parrying the thrusts of several foes. But Roger was quickly at his side, taking his own share of hard blows; and as the foot and horse from behind pressed on after the impetuous leaders, and more and more detachments from the French army came up to assist their comrades, the melee became very thick, and in the crush it was impossible to see what was happening except just in front, and to avoid the blows levelled at him was all that Raymond was able to think of for many long minutes -- minutes that seemed more like hours.

When the press became a little less thick about him, Raymond looked round for his brother, but could not see him. A body of riders, moving in a compact wedge, had forced themselves in between himself and Gaston. He saw the white plume in his brother's helmet waving at some distance away to the left, but when he tried to rein in his horse and reach him, he still found himself surrounded by the same phalanx of mounted soldiers, who kept pressing him by sheer weight on and on away to the right, though the tide of battle was most distinctly rolling to the left. The French were flying promiscuously back to their lines, and the English soldiers were in hot pursuit.

Raymond was no longer amid foes. He had long since ceased to have to use his sword either for attack or defence, but he could not check the headlong pace of his mettlesome little barb, nor could he by any exertion of strength turn the creature's head in any other direction. As he was in the midst of those he looked upon as friends, he had no uneasiness as to his own position, even though entirely separated from Gaston and Roger, who generally kept close at his side. He was so little used of late to the manoeuvres of war, that he fancied this headlong gallop, in which he was taking an involuntary part, might be the result of military tactics, and that he should see its use presently.

But as he and his comrades flew over the ground, and the din of the battle died away in his ears, and the last of the evening sunlight faded from the sky, a strange sense of coming ill fell upon Raymond's spirit. Again he made a most resolute and determined effort to check the fiery little creature he rode, who seemed as if his feet were furnished with wings, so fast he spurned the ground beneath his hoofs.

Then for the first time the youth found that this mad pace was caused by regular goading from the silent riders who surrounded him. Turning in his saddle he saw that these men were one and all engaged in pricking and spurring on the impetuous little steed; and as he cast a keen and searching look at these strange riders, he saw that they all wore in their steel caps the black tuft of the followers of the Black Visor and his sable-coated companion, and that these two leaders rode themselves a little distance behind.

Greatly astonished at the strange thing that was befalling him, yet not, so far, alarmed for his personal safety, Raymond drew his sword and looked steadily round at the ring of men surrounding him.

"Cease to interfere with my horse, gentlemen," he said, in stern though courteous accents. "It may be your pleasure thus to ride away from the battle, but it is not mine; and I will ask of you to let me take my way whilst you take yours. Why you desire my company I know not, but I do not longer desire yours; wherefore forbear!"

Not a word or a sign was vouchsafed him in answer; but as he attempted to rein back his panting horse, now fairly exhausted with the struggle between the conflicting wills of so many persons, the dark silent riders continued to urge him forward with open blows and pricks from sword point, till, as he saw that his words were still unheeded, a dangerous glitter shone in Raymond's eyes.

"Have a care how you molest me, gentlemen!" he said, in clear, ringing tones. "Ye are carrying a jest (if jest it be meant for) a little too far. The next who dares to touch my horse must defend himself from my sword."

And then a sudden change came over the bearing of his companions. A dozen swords sprang from their scabbards. A score of harsh voices replied to these words in fierce accents of defiance. One -- two -- three heavy blows fell upon his head; and though he set his teeth and wheeled about to