On the right, at the same high dais, was the
King's younger brother, the Duke of Orleans, a pale heavy-featured
man, with a languid manner and intolerant eyes. On the left was
the Duke of Bourbon, sad-faced and absorbed, with that gentle
melancholy in his eyes and bearing which comes often with the
premonition of death. All these were in their armor, save only
for their helmets, which lay upon the board before them.
Below, grouped around the long red table, was an assembly of the
most famous warriors in Europe. At the end nearest the King was
the veteran soldier the Duke of Athens, son of a banished father,
and now High Constable of France. On one side of him sat the
red-faced and choleric Lord Clermont, with the same blue Virgin in
golden rays upon his surcoat which had caused his quarrel with
Chandos the night before. On the other was a noble-featured
grizzly-haired soldier, Arnold d'Andreghen, who shared with
Clermont the honor of being Marshal of France. Next to them sat
Lord James of Bourbon, a brave warrior who was afterwards slain by
the White Company at Brignais, and beside him a little group of
German noblemen, including the Earl of Salzburg and the Earl of
Nassau, who had ridden over the frontier with their formidable
mercenaries at the bidding of the French King. The ridged armor
and the hanging nasals of their bassinets were enough in
themselves to tell every soldier that they were from beyond the
Rhine.
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