Bernard Cornwell - The Grail Quest 1 - Harlequin

Come here!" the King commanded sternly.

Will Skeat looked embarrassed as he threaded through the bow-men and approached the King's horse where he went on one knee. The King drew his ruby-hilted sword and touched it on Skeat's shoulder. We are told you are one of our best soldiers, so from henceforth you will be Sir William Skeat."

The archers shouted even louder. Will Skeat, Sir William now, stayed on his knees as the King spurred on to give the same speech to the last men in the line and to those who manned the guns in the circle of farm carts. The Earl of Northampton, who had plainly been responsible for Skeat's knighthood, raised him up and led him back to his cheering men, and Skeat was still blushing as his archers clapped him on the back.

Bloody nonsense, he said to Thomas.

You deserve it, Will,“ Thomas said, then grinned, Sir William.” Just have to pay more bloody tax, won't I?“ Skeat said, but he looked pleased anyway. Then he frowned as a drop of rain splashed on his bare forehead. Bowstrings!” he shouted. Most of the men were still sheltering their strings, but a handful had to coil the cords as the rain began to fall more heavily. One of the Earl's men-at-arms came to the archers, shouting that the women were to go back beyond the crest. You heard him!“ Will Skeat called. Women to the baggage!”

Some of the women wept, but Eleanor just clung to Thomas for a moment. Live," she said simply, then walked away through the rain, passing the Prince of Wales who, with six other mounted men, was riding to his place among the men-at-arms behind Will Skeat's archers. The Prince had decided to fight on horseback so he could see over the heads of the dismounted men and, to mark his arrival, his banner which was bigger than any other on the right of the field was loosed to the heavy downpour.

Thomas could no longer see across the valley because wide curtains of heavy grey rain were sweeping from the north and obscuring the air. There was nothing to do but sit and wait while the leather backing of his mail became cold and clammy. He hunched miserably, staring into the greyness, knowing that no bow could draw properly till this downpour ended.

What they should do," said Father Hobbe, who sat beside Thomas, is charge now.

They couldn't find their way in this muck, father,“ Thomas said. He saw the priest had a bow and an arrow bag, but no other battle equipment. You should get some mail,” he said, or at least a padded jacket."

I'm armoured by the faith, my son.

Where's your bowstrings?" Thomas asked, for the priest had neither helmet nor cap.

I looped them round my . well, never mind. It has to be good for something other than pissing, eh? And it's dry down there.“ Father Hobbe seemed indecently cheerful. I've been walking the lines, Tom, and looking for your lance. It's not here.” Hardly goddamn surprising,“ Thomas said. I never thought it would be.”

Father Hobbe ignored the blasphemy. And I had a chat with Father Pryke. Do you know him?"

No,“ Thomas said curtly. The rain was pouring off the front of his helmet onto the broken bridge of his nose. How the hell would I know Father Pryke?”

Father Hobbe was not deterred by Thomas's surliness. He's con-fessor to the King and a great man. He'll be a bishop one day soon. I asked him about the Vexilles.“ Father Hobbe paused, but Thomas said nothing. He remembers the family,” the priest went on. He says they had lands in Cheshire, but they supported the Mortimers at the beginning of the King's reign so they were outlawed. He said something else. They were always reckoned pious, but their bishop suspected they had strange ideas. A touch of gnosticism.“ Cathars,” Thomas said.

It seems likely, doesn't it?"

And if it's a pious family,“ Thomas said, then I probably don't belong. Isn't that good news?”

You can't escape, Thomas,“ Father Hobbe said softly. His usually wild hair was plastered close to his skull by the rain. You promised your father. You accepted the penance.”

Thomas shook his head angrily. There are a score of bastards here, father,“ he indicated the archers crouching under the rain's lash, who've murdered more men than I have. Go and harrow their souls and leave mine alone.”

Father Hobbe shook his head. You've been chosen, Thomas, and I'm your conscience. It occurs to me, see, that if the Vexilles supported Mortimer then they can't love our king. If they'll be anywhere today, it'll be over there.“ He nodded towards the valley's far side, which was still blotted out by the pelting rain. Then they'll live for another day, won't they?” Thomas said. Father Hobbe frowned. You think we're going to lose?“ he asked sternly. No!”

Thomas shivered. It must be getting late in the afternoon, father. If they don't attack now they'll wait till morning. That'll give them a whole day to slaughter us.

Ah, Thomas! How God loves you.

Thomas said nothing to that, but he was thinking that all he wanted was to be an archer, to become Sir Thomas of Hookton as Will had just become Sir William. He was happy serving the King and did not need a heavenly lord to take him into weird battles against dark lords. Let me give you some advice, father," he said.

It's always welcome, Tom."

First bastard that drops, get his helmet and mail. Look after yourself."

Father Hobbe clapped Thomas's back. God is on our side. You heard the King say as much." He stood and went to talk with other men, and Thomas sat by himself and saw that the rain was lessening at last. He could see the far trees again, see the colours of the French banners and surcoats, and now he could see a mass of red and I green crossbowmen at the other side of the valley. They were going nowhere, he reckoned, for a crossbow string was as susceptible to the damp as any other. It'll be tomorrow, he called down to Jake. We'll do it all again tomorrow.

Let's hope the sun shines," Jake said.

The wind brought the last drops of rain from the north. It was late. Thomas stood, stretched and stamped his feet. A day wasted, he thought, and a hungry night ahead.

And tomorrow his first real battle.

An excited group of mounted men had gathered about the French King, who was still a half-mile from the hill where the largest part of his army had gathered. There were at least two thousand men-at-arms in the rearguard who were still marching, but those who had reached the valley hugely outnumbered the waiting English.

Two to one, sire!“ Charles, the Count of Alencon and the King's younger brother, said vehemently. Like the rest of the horsemen his surcoat was soaking and the dye in its badge had run into the white linen. His helmet was beaded with water. We must kill them now!” the Count insisted.

But Philip of Valois's instinct was to wait. It would be wise, he thought, to let his whole army gather, to make a proper reconnais-sance and then attack next morning, but he was also aware that his companions, especially his brother, thought him cautious. They even believed him to be timid for he had avoided battle with the English before, and even to propose waiting a mere day might make them think he had no stomach for the highest business of kings. He still ventured the proposal, suggesting that the victory would be all the more complete if it was just delayed by one day. And if you wait,“ Alencon said scathingly, Edward will slip away in the night and tomorrow we'll face an empty hill.” They're cold, wet, hungry and ready to be slaughtered," the Duke of Lorraine insisted.

And if they don't leave, sire,“ the Count of Flanders warned, they'll have more time to dig trenches and holes.” And the signs are good," John of Hainault, a close companion of the King and the Lord of Beaumont, added.

The signs?" the King asked.

John of Hainault gestured for a man in a black cloak to step forward. The man, who had a long white beard, bowed low. The sun, sire,“ he said, is in conjunction with Mercury and opposite Saturn. Best of all, noble sire, Mars is in the house of Virgo. It spells victory, and could not be more propitious.”