“Giles, Aurélie’s husband, had departed with his troop of men-at-arms to venture toward Bordeaux twenty-nine days prior, to meet and hold the landed English armies. “Is there any word of my lord?” she asked. The page shook his head mournfully, but Aurélie had expected this answer. Had Giles sent a message, it would have been delivered to the lady instantly, even in the dark of night. “Do you know their colors?” she asked. “Madame, the French lilies on blue are quartered by the gold lions on red.... King Edward’s forces … from England.” Aurélie had prayed through the long nights that the de Pourvre army would be victorious and her lord would be delivered safely home. This English troop had either conquered Giles’s army or cleverly bypassed them. For many months she had heard the tales of the carnage spread by the forces of the English king’s son, the Black Prince. Edward had laid waste from Bordeaux through the Limousin, and the stories promised that any of the Black Prince’s forces would be fearful to meet.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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