First came Black Simon with his
banner, bestriding a lean and powerful dapple-gray charger, as
hard and wiry and warwise as himself. After him, riding three
abreast, were nine men-at-arms, all picked soldiers, who had
followed the French wars before, and knew the marches of Picardy
as they knew the downs of their native Hampshire. They were
armed to the teeth with lance, sword, and mace, with square
shields notched at the upper right-hand corner to serve as a
spear-rest. For defence each man wore a coat of interlaced
leathern thongs, strengthened at the shoulder, elbow, and upper
arm with slips of steel. Greaves and knee-pieces were also of
leather backed by steel, and their gauntlets and shoes were of
iron plates, craftily jointed. So, with jingle of arms and
clatter of hoofs, they rode across the Bridge of Avon, while the
burghers shouted lustily for the flag of the five roses and its
gallant guard.
Close at the heels of the horses came two-score archers bearded
and burly, their round targets on their backs and their long
yellow bows, the most deadly weapon that the wit of man had yet
devised, thrusting forth from behind their shoulders.
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