Meanwhile during that brief moment of exultation when the battle
appeared to be won, a crowd of hot-headed young knights and
squires swarmed and clamored round the Prince, beseeching that he
would allow them to ride forth.
"See this insolent fellow who bears three martlets upon a field
gales!" cried Sir Maurice Berkeley. "He stands betwixt the two
armies as though he had no dread of us."
"I pray you, sir, that I may ride out to him, since he seems ready
to attempt some small deed," pleaded Nigel.
"Nay, fair sirs, it is an evil thing that we should break our
line, seeing that we still have much to do," said the Prince.
"See! he rides away, and so the matter is settled."
"Nay, fair prince," said the young knight who had spoken first.
"My gray horse, Lebryte, could run him down ere he could reach
shelter. Never since I left Severn side have I seen steed so
fleet as mine. Shall I not show you?" In an instant he had
spurred the charger and was speeding across the plain.
The Frenchman, John de Helennes, a squire of Picardy, had waited
with a burning heart, his soul sick at the flight of the division
in which he had ridden. In the hope of doing some redeeming
exploit, or of meeting his own death, he had loitered betwixt the
armies, but no movement had come from the English lines. Now he
had turned his horse's head to join the King's array, when the low
drumming of hoofs sounded behind him, and he turned to find a
horseman hard upon his heels.
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