Hundred Years War: Fields Of Glory Part 38

Ed slumped on the ground as the battlefield began to empty. Only the bodies remained. So many bodies! Already men were walking about the dead and dying, giving a merciful killing stab where it was needed, and robbing the rest.

'Come on, lads,' Jack called. 'Ed, you too. There should be rich pickings here today!'

Ed was still walking as though in a trance as he followed slowly. A man lay at his feet, an older man with a grizzled beard and bright blue eyes set in a sun-browned face. In his breast was a trio of arrows, but there was no pain in his features, and no blood marred them. He might have been dozing in the sun. And next to him was a boy, perhaps only Ed's age, with his arm cut away and an expression of utter terror on his face.

'Could have been you, eh, brat?' Erbin said. He had come up behind Ed, and now stood watching him, his knife in his hand.

Ed had no words for him. He stood staring, too numbed to flee or fight.

'You bore yourself well. You've seen a great battle today,' Erbin said. He motioned to the bodies before them. 'A greater battle than most will see in their lives.'

'I have seen enough.'

'Really?' Erbin chuckled. 'I doubt it. War gets into a man's blood.'

'Like you, you mean? Well, I don't want to be like you! Robbing a boy who had bought me ale.'

'You bought us ale and we drank it, boy. But we thought you would clear off afterwards. It didn't occur to me that you'd come here. Nor that you'd invent stories about us.'

'What stories? You robbed me outside the tavern that night in Portsmouth. You broke my teeth.'

'That's what Tyler said you'd been saying about us,' Erbin spat. He grabbed Ed's jack and pulled him close. 'Listen here! I don't know who beat you, but we stayed in the tavern that night and embarked the following morning. We didn't follow you we didn't attack you. Why you want to spread malicious stories about me and the men, I don't know, but you had better stop, if you don't want to be left dangling from a rope again.'

'What do you mean "Tyler said"?'

'He told us you'd been telling lies blaming me and the boys for robberies and things. We aren't thieves, boy. And when someone calls us names like that, we'll give him something to complain about.'

'When did he tell you this?' Ed asked, a terrible suspicion forming.

'Ages ago. How should I know? Just stop spreading your lies.'

Ed didn't speak. In his mind, he was remembering that night in the alley, when a tall, dark figure had punched him in the face and taken his purse. And then he looked back at the short figure of Erbin.

Tyler was walking among the dead. He stopped at a body and started tugging at a ring. When he looked up and saw Ed staring at him, he smiled and waved. And Ed knew who had attacked him.

'I'll have my revenge,' he swore to himself. 'Oh yes, you churl. I'll have my revenge on you.'

Berenger walked about the field with a sense of awe. Men were picking trinkets from among the bodies, like so many carrion birds at a midden. It was no surprise that a man would never eat a crow after witnessing the result of a battle, but to see men robbing the dead and injured was to see them at their b.e.s.t.i.a.l worst.

Archibald stood bawling at some men to clear a path about his gonnes so that he could bring his wagon up to replenish his stores of powder and shot, but while guards and others tried to explain that the King wished for all the army to stand on the ground, Archibald could hear nothing said to him. His ears were ringing as though inside a church bell while the clapper struck.

Berenger left him to his argument, and stood a short way off, gazing over the field.

He had never seen so many bodies in one place. He saw one knight still sitting in his saddle on top of a second horse and rider. All four were p.r.i.c.ked with a profusion of arrows. The stench of death was overpowering.

This, then, was the path he had chosen. To live and to die in dealing death. Berenger was transfixed, overwhelmed by the thought that so many souls could be snuffed out in a single afternoon.

'A grim sight, eh, Frip?' Granda.r.s.e had joined Berenger and now stood, hoicking his belt about his waist. From one shoulder dangled a wineskin. 'But I'll not deny that I'm glad it's them sprawled in the s.h.i.+t, and not us, eh?'

Berenger nodded.

'There'll be more all around here. The knights will have a merry hunt this night and tomorrow,' Granda.r.s.e added comfortably.

'What do we do now?' Berenger muttered.

'Now? Man, the King already knows where the worst pirates are, doesn't he? We'll be heading for Calais, to burn their s.h.i.+ps and punish the populace for their behaviour. And then, when we've done that, we'll head for home. Aye, I'd reckon,' he added, pulling the stopper from his wineskin and drinking deeply, 'we'll be home by autumn Christmas definitely. And then we'll be lauded from one end of the kingdom to the other for our glorious victory.'

He lowered the skin and pa.s.sed it to Berenger. 'Sup this, Vintener,' he said, his mood sombre now. 'And in the future, when all the churls in a tavern are falling over themselves to buy you a drink to celebrate this glory, be grateful that you will never again have to see butchery on this scale. Never, ever again. Christ Jesus, I swear that the French King must accept our King's right! If ever G.o.d gave proof of His support, it was today. I doubt we'll ever see a victory like this again in our lifetimes.'

'In G.o.d's name, let us pray that you are right,' Berenger said, and he drank deeply of the wine.

Also by Michael Jecks.

The Last Templar.

The Merchant's Partner A Moorland Hanging.

The Crediton Killings The Abbot's Gibbet The Leper's Return Squire Throwleigh's Heir.

Belladonna at Belstone The Traitor of St Giles The Boy Bishop's Glovemaker The Tournament of Blood.

The Sticklepath Strangler The Devil's Acolyte The Mad Monk of Gidleigh The Templar's Penance.

The Outlaws of Ennor The Tolls of Death The Chapel of Bones The Butcher of St Peter's A Friar's Bloodfeud.

The Death s.h.i.+p of Dartmouth The Malice of Unnatural Death Dispensation of Death The Templar, the Queen and Her Lover.

The Prophecy of Death.

The King of Thieves The Bishop Must Die The Oath.

King's Gold.

City of Fiends.