Chapter 23: Fury and Glory

Richard was already terrified out of his wits. Completely unable to fathom the young man’s intentions, he could only tremble and reply:

"Lord Carlo, am I? If you say I am, then I am; if you say I am not, then I am not."

Carlo roared, "Force him to his knees!"

Roberto reacted instantly, lunging forward to deliver a fierce kick to the back of Richard’s knees. Together with another man, he forced Richard down and pinned him firmly to the ground.

Richard cried out in terror, "Lord Carlo?"

Ignoring him, Carlo turned to face everyone. His tone was steady at first:

"When I first became a squire to Lord Raessart, Louvain told me: on the battlefield, you must always remain vigilant. When the knight charges, you must follow closely behind. Be ready at all times to pass weapons to your lord. If an enemy approaches, you must use your shield to deflect attacks for him, never flinching, and in dangerous situations, you must make quick judgments to warn him. Remember, your duty is to ensure the safety of your knight with all your might, and to contribute your strength to the glory of France."

At this point, his voice suddenly sharpened, bellowing like thunder:

"Did I become a squire just to protect a knight like you? A knight who invades Flemish soil to slaughter our villagers! A knight who ignores the suffering of the weak on this land, bullying our innocent Flemish people without a shred of concern. You face our unarmed kin without a drop of pity, indifferent to the agony you inflict. Your so-called bravery is merely cruelty displayed before those unable to resist, yet when you truly need to fight for justice against unjust aggression, you shrink away. You have broken your knightly vows, committing countless wrongs and sins here without the slightest intention of making amends. You have shown no respect to the women of Flanders, trampling their dignity at will. You collude with your fellow knights on this battlefield of aggression only for profit, where is there any true unity or mutual aid? Your sincerity toward friends is nonexistent; in this journey of blood and sin, there is only hypocrisy and calculation. The love for your country you speak of is nothing more than blind adherence to your nation's acts of aggression, causing immense harm to the people of Flanders. A knight like you has utterly betrayed the spirit and honor of knighthood; you are not fit to be called a knight!"

With that, Carlo drew his longsword without hesitation. He held it high and shouted:

"Here! I, on behalf of the people of France, sentence you to death!"

Richard was beheaded by Carlo’s powerful strike. The grisly scene struck terror into the hearts of the other surviving Englishmen like a nightmare. Their faces were etched with fear and despair, their eyes revealing bottomless dread.

"My lord, I am no knight," one English soldier said, his voice trembling as his body shook uncontrollably.

"My lord, I was wrong," another Englishman sobbed, his voice filled with despair. His face was as pale as paper, his legs weak, and he could barely stand.

"My lord, spare me."

The pleas for mercy rose one after another, like the most wretched melody on this battlefield.

Carlo turned to look at Raessart and asked: "My lord, can these men also be considered my spoils of war for me to dispose of?"

Like the others, Raessart was stunned by Carlo’s passionate outburst and was momentarily caught off guard. However, he soon regained his composure, nodding slightly with a glint of admiration in his eyes:

"Carlo, do whatever you wish. I support you."

Upon hearing this, Carlo nodded. Pointing angrily at the Englishmen, he roared:

"You are all the sons of farmers; perhaps you come from Wales, or you from Norfolk. Did you cross the sea for thousands of miles just to bully other farmers? I have nothing to say to invaders. When you took up arms and set foot on French soil, everything was decided. All I can give you is death!"

Carlo then issued his command: "Cut down all who are still alive. Leave the corpses where they lie; they deserve no better final resting place than to be devoured by wild dogs."

The men responded in unison, raising their weapons without hesitation to carry out the order with ruthless efficiency.

They wore expressions of excitement, their movements swift and decisive. Finally, they packed up their spoils on wagons and slowly departed.

Days later, when the English discovered the site of the battle, the rain had already washed away all traces. They could not track where the enemy had gone, knowing only that another supply convoy had vanished.

Over the next ten days, the squad led by Raessart and Carlo made full use of information provided by local villagers and traveling merchants. Cleverly utilizing the terrain and precisely gauging weather changes, they either set elaborate traps or launched surprise ambushes, successfully striking down three more supply convoys.

In these battles, they did not let a single Englishman escape, nor did any mercenaries from the Netherlands or Germany slip through the net. After all, once one took up arms and came to Flanders, one had to be prepared to meet death.

Part of this was because the French people harbored deep hostility toward those who wantonly invaded their homes and would never give the enemy any chance to survive. The other part was due to Carlo’s brilliant tactical planning; he knew well that the English must not be allowed to obtain any information that might affect subsequent operations.

During this period, the two sides did not engage in a full-scale war. The French army guarded their positions and did not venture out of their fortifications to attack the enemy waiting in the open field. The English launched provocative attacks on the French flanks, but could not draw them out. Meanwhile, Philip VI ordered the formation of numerous squads specifically tasked with raiding Edward’s supply lines and outposts.

Raessart’s squad consistently achieved remarkable results in this series of operations. Because of this, Countess Jeanne of Artois gave them her full support.

By now, the squad had grown to about eighty men, and their equipment was replenished as soon as any losses occurred. Even Carlo had obtained a coat of mail custom-fitted for him, and both he and Roberto wore leather surcoats bearing the Raessart family crest. The various spoils they captured in battle were converted into coin, which, along with the Countess’s rewards, totaled as much as 500 francs.

That night, in a tavern in Kortrijk, the conversation of a group of traveling merchants caught their attention.

"Have you heard? Baron Morley of England has gone completely mad lately!"