Robin brought his pony to him and passed him the reins. ‘You were right. There was a ford.’

‘There’s always a ford if you know where to look,’ Berenger said.

‘Why do you stare at the men?’

‘I was remembering the last time I was stuck looking for a ford. That was a few days before Crécy, and the French had harried us all the way up north, with our escape blocked by the Somme. We had no choice but to continue then, following the river, hoping that we would find a path across, because else we were dead.’

‘You were trapped?’

‘The sea on one side and ahead of us, marshes and salt flats, the river to the right and the army of the French behind us. No sensible place to have a battle, no defensive position and no escape. We kept on moving because they could have surrounded us if we stopped, but there was no food to be had, so all they need do was wait and starve us out. But then we captured a man we thought was a scout, and it turned out he was a fisherman, and had been born English. I think he was also born a smuggler, because he knew a path over the Somme at low tide.’

‘And that saved you?’

Berenger nodded.

‘And this reminded you of that?’

‘Yes. Then it saved us. I begin to feel that when we reach a river and cross it, that itself helps us. If the rivers of France are all set to protect us and aid us when we need their help, surely that means the land is for us too, and that means God is on our side. With Him to look to our interests, how can we fail?’

Robin looked at him. ‘You believe that?’

Berenger watched as Clip, Dogbreath and the rest of the vintaine clattered up the ramp. Fulk was behind them, Pere et Fils a little ahead of Clip, who was berating the river, the weather, the town ahead and all the army. Did he believe it? Sometimes, perhaps. More to the point, he knew what to say to enthuse his men.

‘You can’t see the injustice?’ Clip said. ‘We’re sent here to find some Frenchies, and what do the others do? Grandarse has them cosy and warm with the Prince and the rest, all of them in nice, warm billets, dry and comfy, while we slog our guts out in the rain and the winds. And now we have to ford rivers like this fucker here.’

Pierre turned to him. ‘But you were telling us that you wished to be at the front of the army, for that was where the best pickings and winnings were to be won?’

‘Yes, the front of the army, not here in a sodding scouting party.’

Robin chuckled. ‘You call this a scouting party?’

‘Well, isn’t it?’

Fulk rumbled, ‘It is a large scouting force, then?’

‘It’s away from the main army, is what I’m saying. Dogbreath understands, don’t you?’

Dogbreath gave a nervous smile and managed to look like a fretful hound unsure of a command.

Pierre frowned. ‘So you think we are hard done by because we are at the front of the army?’

‘I think we’re hard done by because we’re the poor fuckwits who always end up in the middle of any nasty battle that’s going.’

Fulk laughed aloud. ‘You want the glory and profit without the danger?’

‘Some profit would be good,’ Clip said. ‘It’s all right for you now. You think you’ll live forever, but the sad fact is, we’re all going to get killed. Just you wait. We’ll be thrown into the next big fight and get our arses cut from us. There’ll be no safe resort for us once the Captal decides he wants something. The commanders, they’re all the same. Throw away our lives without blinking, the lot of ’em. So, say your prayers carefully, make sure you have the priests shrive you when you get a chance, and live like a saint.’

‘Like you, eh, Clip?’ Fripper said. He and Robin had fallen in alongside their vintaine.

‘I like to think . . .’

Fulk laughed again, earning him a black glare from Clip.

‘I was going to say, before that fat mountain man belched, that I have lived a good, virtuous life.’

‘What would you think would be an evil life?’ Robin wondered aloud.

While the vintaine resorted to bickering, Berenger allowed his mind to wander. He recalled the abbey and the kindly Abbot who was so keen to help see him healed, but who was determined to expel him once he was fit once more. He would like to see the Abbot once more, to talk to him and . . . and what? Ask his forgiveness for the last few years of debauchery and violence? Or ask him for his blessing for a religious life?

‘What?’ he asked. He had been startled from his reverie by the appearance of a herald, who cast a contemptuous eye over the men in the vintaine.

‘I said, the Captal de Buch, your leader, asks if you are ready for your reward?’

Berenger found the Captal de Buch standing in the shade of a large beech tree, staring at the town with a broad grin on his face. ‘Ah, Fripper. You did well finding the ford. You have my gratitude.’

‘I was asked to come that I could claim my reward?’

The Gascon gave a wolfish grin. ‘Ah, but yes. We shall shower your reward over you shortly. The town there. I have heard that it is a valuable place, filled with riches. All we need do is storm it and take what we want. You will be with the first parties. To you will go much of the glory when we seize it. And all the riches you find, you may keep, you and your men.’

Berenger stared at him, then at the town. ‘You mean we shall ride in there and take what we want, no matter what the townsfolk say?’

‘The town is yours. However, I would not send you in alone, my friend. No, you will have the whole army at your side and back.’

Berenger had a vision of Clip’s face as he listened to his orders. Clip was mouthing, ‘We’ll all die, I’m tellin’ you,’ as the Captal finished. There may have been other words in his mouth as he glared at Berenger, but then the Captal said, ‘Is that clear?’ and the mental image mercifully disappeared.

‘Yes, sir.’

Clip stared, his mouth open. ‘What?’

‘You heard. Come on, Clip.’

‘I’m not goin’. I’m not! That’s fucking unfair! We were the first down here as scouts, we were among the first over the river. You were the first, Frip, weren’t you? And now some Gascon ape says he wants us to go into the town and get our arses fried as if it’s a reward for good behaviour? Are you mad? Tell him to piss off and get another vintaine that’s ready to die. I’m not. I’m not going!’

Fulk glowered at the ground. ‘He is not being wrong. This time, I think Clip has the fair idea of the justice.’

Berenger glanced at all the men and puffed out his cheeks. ‘What of the rest of you? Père? Fils? Saul? Robin?’

The father and son glanced at each other. There was hope in the boy’s eyes. Meanwhile Nick and Baz stood. ‘We’re with you, Frip.’

Fulk was still sitting. He took up a twig in his fingers and snapped it. ‘This is not right. Some other vintaine should be found. Clip is right.’

‘You want me to go to the Captal and tell him that you all refuse to obey his orders? I can do that, of course. But you know the consequences. You’ll likely be hanged as an example of what happens to the disobedient. You want that?’

‘Worse,’ Robin said, ‘when we come out of there with all the merchants’ furs and gold hanging off us, we’ll come and tell you all about it.’ He settled his sword on his hip as he stared towards the town. ‘I’m with you, Frip.’

‘Right,’ Berenger said as he glanced at the men who remained squatting or sitting. ‘Godspeed to you all. I don’t disagree with you, but we are soldiers. We have to do as we’re told; else, how could any commander achieve any victory? The Captal has to be able to rely on his men. If he cannot, he may as well give up his staff of office now.’

He turned and began to make his way up to the road that led to the main gate of the town.

It was not a great city, but a goodly sized town nonetheless. Robin joined him, and the two marched along the dirt road.

‘Did I lay it on too thick?’ Berenger asked quietly.

‘No. But you needed a good shovel to set out the soil and flatten it.’

Berenger glanced at him. Behind him, he heard Clip’s whine.

‘I’m buggered, I am. This is a fucking stupid army. Why am I here, eh? I ought to be at home with a roaring fire and a pot of ale, not trudging through the mud to go to a town where some evil harpy’s likely to cut my throat as soon as I look at her.’

‘She’ll cut her own throat at the thought of you touching her,’ Robin called.

Berenger licked his lips nervously. To left and right he could see parties of men moving forward. None seemed to want to overtake him, but instead they moved at his speed. But there was no sign of the defenders. ‘What is going on?’ he asked.

Robin smiled at him. ‘I think the good Captal was honestly trying to reward us, Frip.’

‘What?’

‘Do you see any men on the walls? Do you see any smoke from a fire? There is nothing, is there?’

He was right. The town was deserted.

Saturday 27 August

The next day Berenger sat stiffly on his horse and watched the end of the little farmstead.

They were fifteen miles from Vierzon, and from where he was, he could see perfectly clearly the cloud of black, filthy smoke that was rising from the remains of the town as the men of the Prince of Wales’s army moved in to destroy it. There was to be nothing left.

‘Riders, Frip,’ Robin said.

Berenger nodded to Clip. He stood with Nick and Baz, and now gave them their instructions. Soon they had their torches alight, and they moved in and about the buildings. It took little time for the dry rafters and inner thatch to take the flames to themselves, and once the timbers were crackling and spitting, there was nothing to do to save them.

This had been their task since they had arrived at Vierzon, to destroy everything for miles around. The Gascons under the Captal de Buch had taken to their new task with enthusiasm, putting to the sword any living creature they found, and burning, burning from farm to village to field. Nothing was to be left standing, and the Gascons were most competent at their work. But it was soul-destroying. Berenger had seen little farms that must have been home to three generations of peasants being consumed. He had watched as working mills were destroyed, as stores of food and drink were broken, ravaged, and then thrown onto the reeking pyres. The folk of this land would be utterly ruined, losing home and belongings, losing their livelihood, their possessions and all the foods they had expended so much effort to grow.

Berenger could understand the need to deter men from going to the French King, but this was surely not the way to achieve the Prince’s ambition. The Prince wanted to have the people learn to despise their King, and to deny him a rich source of tax income, but by attacking all the people, destroying their towns and farms and homes, burning their crops and their stocks, he was only giving them cause to fly from the English. It made no sense. None of them would want to come under the Prince’s protection, surely. The people would be like those at Uzerche who stared sullenly at Berenger and the company, reluctantly accepting the truth of their position, but not doing so with any enthusiasm. They did not see a group of strong men who deserved their honour and respect, but only a company of thieves and mercenaries. It was not surprising. What else were the men in this Gascon force, other than plunderers and opportunists, just as were the men in Will’s company. Would a townsman decide to surrender to Will in order to win the protection of the routiers? It was unlikely.

‘Frip?’

Berenger turned to see that the riders were much nearer. He recognised one of the men at the front as an Englishman who had been in the Captal de Buch’s army. He was a short man, but very broad-shouldered, with eyes that seemed always on the verge of a smile. Today he had nothing in his eyes but shock.

‘Fripper, is that you?’ he asked as the riders came to a halt.

There were two vintaines with him, thirty-four men in total.

Racking his brain, Berenger finally remembered his name. ‘Bill. How is the trail that way?’

‘Evil, I swear. I haven’t seen such deaths in many a year. Some men must have come across refugees up yonder, and they slaughtered them all. Men, women, children, all lying in one pile.’

Berenger nodded. ‘It is a dreadful sight.’

‘Usually it is sad. Today it was dreadful,’ Bill said.

Bill accepted the offer of some of their food with alacrity. He and his men had been riding all day, he said, and they were thirsty after their exertions. The weather had been spitting with rain, and the dust had been kept down, but even without it the men had endured a hard journey.

‘We were off before dawn to scout about for the French, and to see whether we could find a crossing over the Loire.

‘Did you have any luck?’ Clip asked excitedly. He had convinced himself that there would be easier pickings north of the great river, and was keen to make his way to Orléans or Chartres and take whatever he could in plunder.

‘Nothing yet, but there are other scouts searching towards Meung and Blois. Audley and Chandos have taken sizeable forces with them to see if they can find a passage. If so, all will be good. We shall have a clear path to the north.’

Berenger nodded. Most of the men were aware that the Prince intended to head north and west, hoping to link up with the army of the Duke of Lancaster. With the two armies of the Duke and the Prince, the English would be a match for any French force.

Clip was disappointed by the news. ‘You didn’t find any crossing?’

‘No. But we did find other things,’ Bill said. He took a long swallow of wine and glanced at Berenger. He had lost all joviality now. In his eyes there was only a restless wonder. ‘I tell you, Fripper, there are some men who’d deserve a long, slow death for their actions here.’

‘What do you mean?’ Berenger asked.

‘I found a young maid up there today,’ Bill said. His voice dropped, and he wouldn’t meet Berenger’s eye as he spoke. ‘A maid of perhaps thirteen, fourteen summers? She had been raped, but when they killed her, they did so by lashing her to a beam, and then cut her throat.’

‘Where was this?’ Berenger asked sharply.

‘To the north of here, perhaps two leagues.’

‘Were there any English near?’

‘Not that I saw at the time, but they have been that way. I expect it was one of Chandos’s companies. They seem to have passed that way. Why?’

‘I have seen another body like that. I have heard of many more,’ Berenger said. He cast an eye about his men thoughtfully.

‘Whoever this man is, he should be cut away from the rest of the army,’ Bill said. ‘It is one thing to obey orders to kill as a punishment, but another to kill with cruelty for sport.’

Clip shrugged. ‘What is the difference? If we’re told to kill everyone in a town, what does it matter whether a girl is stabbed once, or killed another way? She’ll be just as dead.’

‘If you cannot tell the difference, you are lost,’ Berenger said sharply. ‘You remember Béatrice, don’t you? If she were to be killed, better that she should suffer as little as necessary, rather than she should be forced to submit to rape and then be killed in as slow a manner as possible.’

‘What says she died that slowly?’ Clip asked. ‘Being tied to a board to be raped, and then had her throat cut. Doesn’t sound too bad. Many are slowly strangled. I’d think that would be worse.’

Berenger was going to answer, but he had no words. ‘Tell the men to prepare to ride,’ he said. He was thinking: the other deaths all happened when Will and his men were about. Now another body was discovered.

Bill was soon back on his own mount. ‘I tell you, Fripper. There was something about that child’s murder that made me think. I’ll need a quart of wine to sleep well this night.’

Berenger nodded and patted Bill’s horse’s neck. ‘I know. I recall only too clearly the woman I saw treated in the same manner.’

‘And I keep thinking, it could be anyone in our army,’ Bill said. ‘When I sit and eat with another man, I will always wonder whether that was the man who killed that child. Whether it was his hands who tied her and made her suffer, then cut her throat, and those same hands are now breaking the bread for me. How can a man sit while thinking that?’

‘The man who did that before was in my company. I was ejected from the company, but the man who killed girls and children that way was still there. Have you seen any sign of the company under Will’s command?’

Bill frowned quickly. ‘Will? I saw him only two days ago. He is with Audley searching for a crossing point.’

Berenger tried not to sound too eager. So, this latest victim was found only a matter of a day or so since Will’s party had ridden this way. Which of the men could be guilty of this, he wondered. None of his old party struck him as so crazed that they would treat a child like this.

He said, ‘Two days ago where?’

Robin was at Berenger’s side as Bill and his men took their leave of the vintaine, and he glanced at Berenger’s face as the little group rode off.

‘What?’ Berenger asked.

‘Frip, I trust you, but you have too much interest in this man Will and your old company.’

‘I have little interest in them.’

‘So we shall not ride off after them?’

‘Of course not. We’ll ride to check any possible crossing points over the river. That is all.’

‘And if we run into this man Will’s company, what then?’

‘If we run into a group that attacks us or tries to ambush us, we will respond as Englishmen,’ Berenger said levelly. He looked at Robin. ‘And if I find a murderer in my path, I will execute him as I would any wolf’s-head.’

‘Are you seeking this man for revenge because he stole your company from you?’

‘No! I seek him for other reasons.’

‘It’s true that he stole your woman, then?’

Berenger’s mouth gaped. ‘Who told you that?’

‘It is common enough news about the army. You were enraged when he took your woman and—’

‘Ballocks! He wanted my woman, but when she chose to leave her house, her town, her life in order to be with me, that prick had us waylaid on the road! It was only the presence of Fulk and Saul that saved me from dying just as she and her two sons did! If you doubt me, ask Fulk! He was there too. He can tell you the truth!’

Robin nodded slowly. ‘I will ask Fulk and Saul, but even if they tell me you are speaking the truth, Frip, what does that mean about hunting down Will? Will it help the Prince or our army to chase him, even if he is the killer of a number of French girls or women?’

‘You don’t mind a man doing such things? You condone his actions?’

Robin’s eyes went hard and flat. ‘I condone nothing, Frip. But I won’t see this vintaine thrown into a fight against this man just because you have a beetle up your arse and dislike the man enough to risk your life and all ours in order to get revenge.’

‘You would allow him to—’

‘I allow nothing! You do not listen to me, Frip. Listen carefully now: I will not see the men of this vintaine killed needlessly to satisfy some whim of yours for revenge, however well-meaning it may be; and I will not see the men thrown into a pointless chase when it goes against all our orders. So if you mean to test your men’s mettle and seek your own oblivion at the same time, I will not help you.’