In the Name of the King by A L Berridge

Author:A L Berridge
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780141957708
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2011-05-07T22:00:00+00:00

Jacques de Roland

Fabert went on trying. He led us in a charge against the cavalry that downed Praslin, I saw him personally cut down a huge armoured officer on a white horse. People cheered, some even said it was Soissons himself and that we’d turned defeat into victory, but it wasn’t and we hadn’t, it was just some Sedanaise officer and we were just a knot of cavalry hemmed in on all sides with the enemy moving in for the kill.

It wasn’t about fighting a battle after that, just getting out alive. Even Fabert was urging Châtillon and Sourdis off the field, and that was it, it was over, there was nothing but a dull sickness in my belly and a taste like black smoke in my mouth. I said ‘We’re beaten, aren’t we? This is defeat.’

‘Defeat?’ said Charlot gently. ‘Monsieur, this is a rout.’

I learned what that meant as we cut our way through to the woods. I saw it in Crespin’s bewildered face, tears running down his cheeks as he slashed out at the enemy like a furious child. It was there in the sight of the great black flag of the Piémont with its single brave white cross flying above the crowd, but tied to a Spanish pike and surrounded by men laughing. I saw it under Guinevere’s own hooves, the corpse of a young boy beside a broken drum, its skin gaping like a jagged mouth. Something was rising in my throat in dry little gasps, I remember panicking because I couldn’t see Charlot, then hearing his voice saying ‘I’m here, Monsieur,’ and turning to see we were off the field, the shade of trees closing round us, and for the moment we were safe.

There were only about ten of us together, we’d long got separated from the rest, but my friends were still there, all but Raoul who never would be again. I wanted someone to make a joke, laugh, make things right again, I even said to Philibert ‘There’s loads of helmets, don’t you want one?’ but he just said ‘No, Monsieur,’ and looked down at his bloodied sword with something like shame.

We rode on through the forest in the hope of meeting up with our army, but the sound of sporadic gunfire suggested there wasn’t one, just fleeing men being picked off by leisurely musketeers. Sunlight and green flickered ahead and we emerged from the woods on to rough grass, the ground trampled to form a track leading down to fields that looked suddenly familiar. We’d circled the plateau and come out above our own baggage train.

That’s where the firing was coming from. The wagons were lined up like a square with Sedanaise cavalry swarming inside, whooping and charging, leaping on to carts and chucking stuff out, galloping horsemen chasing after half-naked women. Bangs and little puffs of smoke came from a tangle of wagons across the far corner, and behind it I saw a stream of people pouring through an opening into the fields, heading for the other side of the forest like a trail of ants.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.