The Crown of the Hundred Years' War

Chapter 3 The Burning Lafite Rothschild

Antoine was asked to leave after dinner.

Despite his repeated declarations that he would live and die with the church, no one was willing to leave a respected old priest on the battlefield. In the end, John had no choice but to tie him to a horse and send him away with the women to the forest to find the old people and children who had been hiding there.

Before sunrise, Attil sent out five waves of scouts, two men in each wave, heading in different directions. He wanted to ascertain the movements of the British as possible, and he couldn't reveal his presence; the existence of these five hundred men was his biggest and only trump card.

But not long after he was sent out, someone returned. A young man with red hair, sporting dark circles under his eyes but still full of energy, reported to Attila and John: "Sir, I kept watch from yesterday afternoon until late at night without any movement before I came back. Those Englishmen were making a huge scene, singing and cursing, and they were playing with women. Several women screamed until I left before they stopped."

Atil nodded, but John asked curiously, "Which side? Is it this noisy on both sides? We saw a camp that was quite quiet yesterday."

The young man touched his red hair: "It's the camp in the south. The one in the north had more sentries on it, and I almost ran into them, so I didn't dare go in. Besides, they were very quiet. When the south was making a ruckus, they had already turned off their fires and gone to sleep, but when I left, the north was as quiet as a graveyard."

Atil gave him two silver coins and told him to go and rest. Turning around, he saw another scout running towards the church. The man reached him and, before even dismounting, said, "Lord Atil, Lord Roland sent me back to tell you that we arrived near the camp at dawn, and they are already preparing food and tidying up the wagons."

John waved for him to dismount first, glancing at the sky as he said, "So early? Didn't they say those Englishmen were making a ruckus all night? If they've already set off, they should be here by the afternoon."

The knight took off his helmet, picked up a clay pot, took a swig of cheap wine, and replied, "No, only the north side is cooking. When I left, no one in the south camp got up. It was just a few servants who seemed to be carrying out some corpses."

John clapped his hands and laughed at Artil, "I get it, it's Bedford's old trick again. These are two newly formed companies, and the commanders are probably of equal rank. It's a pity I didn't see the flag yesterday; maybe it's one of our old acquaintances."

Atil looked down at the map: "There's not much difference. Unless both sides are completely destroyed, crippling one side won't scare the other. We still have to deal with eight hundred men." He pointed with his hand: "The north bank is more suitable for an assault, but there's a small hill there. Hiding the troops in the woods would be too far. We should fight on the south bank and have the townspeople demolish a few more houses to clear a position at the bridgehead before we can charge."

Seeing that John didn't react, he added, "You have to keep an eye on things. Farmers care about their houses; they won't demolish them if you don't watch over them. If anyone objects, tell them there will be compensation." John reluctantly put on the helmet, and after grabbing half a loaf of bread, slowly walked towards the bridge.

By the time John finally reached the bridgehead, the sun was fully up. But compared to the bridgehead, this place should now be called a "construction site." Martin was organizing the militia to set up kindling; bundles of firewood and straw were being carried into the narrowest houses along the river and stacked in the courtyard. Yesterday's oxcart was also stuffed with hay and pushed to the middle of the road, its wheels jammed with stones.

Seeing John approach, he turned around and bowed again. John seemed a little embarrassed, and after hesitating for a while, he finally spoke: "The British will arrive this afternoon. Our cavalry can't break through the town. We need to demolish these houses near the bridge, or better yet, raze them to the ground."

Before Martin could speak, the old man who had brought the beer yesterday jumped out and roared angrily, "That's not what you said yesterday! Didn't you agree to burn a few houses first, and then see how things went before burning the bridge?"

Martin got angry too: "Old man, what's wrong with you? Didn't we agree yesterday that your house was going to burn down? You were already piling hay in the yard, so why are you refusing to do it now that we've leveled it?"

The old man, already seated on the ground, sobbed as he replied, "What do you know? The wood is unusable after being burned, but there will still be some bricks and a stove left. What's left after leveling it? There's not even enough wood to move in this short time; it can only be used for burning. This is a brewery; the most precious thing is that cellar partitioned by good bricks!"

Martin saw his tantrum and didn't know how to start a conversation.

But a dark-skinned, muscular man stepped forward and said, "I'm an outsider and shouldn't interrupt, but I must say, your town is lucky to have a knight lord guarding it, unlike us on the north shore—"

He lifted the corner of his shirt to show the militiamen—there was a scar there, John could tell, a relatively recent one from a longbow shot.

"—See? The British did this. Of the four villages on the north bank, how many people escaped alive? In our village of over six hundred people, only a few families survived. If you don't demolish and burn, when the British come, they'll loot everything, set fire to the fields, and even go into the woods to look for your daughters and wives!" As he spoke, he squatted down and burst into tears. A younger man next to him grabbed his arm, trying to pull him up, but after a few attempts, he couldn't budge him and also squatted down and cried.

The old man could say nothing more, only kneeling on the ground, his hands braced against the mud. Martin didn't look at him, and directed several militiamen to tie ropes to the roof beams, chanting as they pulled.

Many militiamen secretly shed tears as they worked, but no one stopped working, and no one yelled at John. John himself felt terrified and left the construction site for the barn.

To avoid being seen by the English, the soldiers at the barn gate lined up inside the barn. The Scottish soldiers were in the best shape, with a hundred armored men standing in six neat rows, while the Bourges infantry, directed by a few armored men, stood crookedly, and some archers hadn't even nocked their arrows. John scolded and urged them on until they were properly lined up.

John thought for a moment and then gave orders: "All armored soldiers, go to the south end of the bridge and ask the militia which houses won't burn. Hide inside and wait until the fire is lit before showing yourselves. Infantry and archers, hide to the south. Once the Englishmen have crossed the river and lit the fire, you can come out and block them in the alleys, pushing them into the fire. Ignore the cavalry; they will come along the riverbank."

After giving his orders, the soldiers, led by their captain, headed out of town. John also walked towards the edge of town. Sure enough, the crossbowmen had already packed their belongings, and the captain was waiting for him. John gestured for them to follow, and led this only reliable ranged unit towards the bridge.

Atil watched all this silently from the bell tower. In less than a quarter of an hour, the beams of several houses along the bank had been pulled down, the walls had been torn down, and the fences had been trampled flat. Although it was still small, it had taken on the appearance of a clearing suitable for horses to run. In the square in front of the church at Atil's feet, knights and cavalrymen were already fully armed. He was about to go downstairs when he suddenly stopped, because a knight had appeared on the north bank in the morning light.

The others paid no attention; at least several cavalrymen had ridden up to the church from the north bank that morning to report, so there was nothing to be alarmed about. But Atil's pupils contracted; he recognized the man clearly. It wasn't an ordinary scout, but his deputy, Roland, whom he had instructed to only come to see him when the Englishmen were within a league.

Roland galloped up in a great hurry, his horse's hooves pounding rapidly on the wooden bridge. Atil hurried down from the bell tower and met him at the church entrance. Roland removed his helmet, revealing a head of sweat-drenched black hair, and panted, "My lord, the English are advancing this way at full speed."

Atil breathed a sigh of relief, then immediately frowned: "Didn't I tell them to get close to a league before reporting back? We've only just set off, why are you in such a hurry?" Roland shook his head, still catching his breath: "No... they'll arrive by noon at the latest. It's just cavalry. The people in the southern camp just finished breakfast, left their tents and wagons with the northern camp, and then they all rode this way."

Atil was startled: "Only half the people? The other half didn't come? Approximately how many were armored?"

"Indeed, there are only four hundred men. Although I didn't count them all, about half of them are armored." Roland wiped the sweat from his forehead. "I took a look before I set off. They left all their supplies behind. The camp in the north definitely won't catch up quickly. They probably don't have enough horses left to ride. They'll have to go and get all the wagons. They won't arrive until around the afternoon."

Atil turned to another subordinate in charge of local sentry duty: "How many cavalrymen did the British send to scout? When did they leave?"

The man thought for a moment: "There were only two people. One set off before breakfast, and most people were still asleep when he arrived. The other set off after breakfast and should have seen the militia working, but he only caught a glimpse of them from afar on the high ground. We all followed your instructions and let them go, so they shouldn't have seen us."

Atil spun around twice, his boots making a rhythmic sound on the cobblestones. Roland waited, used to it; he knew Atil always spun around like this before giving an order.

"Bring Martin and John here." Atil finally stopped. "Have all the cavalrymen water and feed their horses, and wait for my orders. Also, tell the militia to stop demolishing the houses; we need to change our plans."