Free Wolf Wood (Part Two): The Dangerous years by Mike Dixon

Will and his boys gave them a thrashing. Did you see how they went back to get more prisoners?'
    'A toast to the Noble Company.'
    Robin raised his tankard and started a chant.
    'Will! … Will! ... Will!'
    On the far side of the room, William watched him coldly. There was no way of knowing what went on in his mind. Robin could only assume that the thoughts were hostile.
    William was good at tactics but hopeless at strategy. Guy was the one who thought into the future. If you read William's mind you would learn what he intended to do next day. See into Guy's mind and you would discover what he was planning for next year. Guy was the one to cuddle up to. It didn't matter what William thought so long as the bastard didn't get it into his head to kill you.
    'The Frogs is bringing up a whole lot of cannon,' someone said. 'They've got some big ones. They'll start bombarding when they've got 'em in place.'
    'The big ones came from our foundries in Calais.' Robin seized the opportunity to heap scorn on the hated Beauforts. 'They were part of what Somerset left behind when he surrendered Rouen. He could have spiked them but he left 'em for the Frogs to use against us.'
    The Duke of Somerset, otherwise known as Edmund Beaufort, had spent years as a prisoner of the French and was suspected of having French sympathies. Spiking was achieved by packing a cannon with gunpowder and blowing it to pieces.
    'That's right Rob, someone said. 'We've been let down by fuckin traitors. We can beat the Frogs any day if we're not stabbed in the back by people who are meant to be our leaders. You and Will showed 'em what we can do …'
    Robin sensed that the company was warming to him. That was a good first step. He wouldn't hurry things. Matthew Gough wasn't going to surrender Bayeux in a hurry. There would be plenty of time to find out what Guy and his partners were planning.
     
     

Chapter 9
     
    Siege
     

    Tears formed in Henriette's eyes. She hated to see Robin in armour. It was the dress of butchery and death. It was bad enough to blow the enemy to pieces with cannons. To go out beyond the walls and hack at them with swords and axes was even worse.
    She was with him on the City wall and the siege was in its third week. The French were keeping up a relentless barrage of cannon fire which had reduced whole sections of the wall to rubble. Every so often, they mounted an attack and tried to force an entry through the holes they had made.
    Covered trenches reached out from their lines. They could hide in these and the defenders wouldn't know they were there. That meant they could attack at any time and without warning, which made it so tiring.
    Robin and his men were sleeping in their armour. He said that was usual on campaigns. Your gear took so long to put on. You would be dead before you had done up the last buckle. They were thankful to have a roof over their heads. On campaigns they often slept in the open with nothing more than a sheet of canvas to keep them dry. Armour rusted and horrible sores developed on their bodies.
    Henriette was now living in a convent, requisitioned by the army. The dining hall had been converted into an infirmary. Alice worked as a healer while she cared for children orphaned in the fighting.
    Alice had not seen Harald for almost a week. He lodged in the castle with Commander Gough. Robin slept in the guardhouse, or what was left of it. He looked tired and his eyes were bloodshot.
    'Do you have to go?'
    It was a pointless question but she had to ask it for the sake of the children.
    'We have to get to those cannons before they can do more damage.' He held her tight. 'I'm sorry, my love. It won't be long now. When this is all over, we'll go back to England. I've got it all worked out.'
    Henriette wondered if they would ever see England again. Thinking about the future was too hard. Best to take each day as it came. Today was likely to be a replay of yesterday. The English cannon would spray the French with all manner