Chapter 9

It was not long before they came upon d’Andreghen and his men camped about a great oak, with One-eyed Peire a-swing over their heads for a lamentable banner. A shrill sentinel, somewhere in the dark, demanded the newcomers’ business, but without receiving any adequate answer, for at that moment Adhelmar gave the word to charge.

Then it was as if all the devils in Pandemonium had chosen Normandy for their playground; and what took place in the night no man saw for the darkness, so that I cannot tell you of it. Let it suffice that Adhelmar rode away before d’Andreghen had rubbed sleep well out of his eyes; and with Adhelmar were Hugues d’Arques and some half of Adhelmar’s men. The rest were dead, and Adhelmar was badly hurt, for he had burst open his old wound and it was bleeding under his armor. Of this he said nothing.

“Hugues,” said he, “do you and these fellows ride to the coast; thence take ship for England.”

He would have none of Hugues’ thanks; instead, he turned and left Hugues to whimper out his gratitude to the skies, which spat a warm, gusty rain at him. Adhelmar rode again to Puysange, and as he went he sang.

Sang Adhelmar:

“D’Andreghen in Normandy

Went forth to slay mine enemy;

But as he went

Lord God for me wrought marvellously;

“Wherefore, I may call and cry

That am now about to die,

‘I am content!’

“Domine! Domine!

Gratias accipe!

Et meum animum

Recipe in coelum!”