He rose in his stirrups, caught a knight unawares with a smashing blow from above that caused the welds in the crown of the helmet to split and his brains to leak out like juices from a split melon. His axe cut, rose to cover him against the shaft of another lance, and then he was deep into the enemy, past the lance shafts, his axe smashing into them, his battlecry a palpable thing inside his faceplate. He roared as his lance struck home, knocking his opponent down, the horse falling sideways, and Tom released his lance – hopelessly tangled in the man’s guts – and took the axe from his pommel as he ducked a lance aimed at him.
Then Tom put his lance down, tucked his head, and the whole world became the point of his lance and the man in red and gold he had chosen as his target. The right flank archers got several flights into the enemy, and the heavy arrows tore through them, striking the unarmoured rumps of their warhorses. Abblemont himself wore plain white harness – excellent stuff, utterly without adornment, the way the Etruscans made it. No one was likely to challenge him to fight to the death, as he was both commonly born and foreign, but it spoke volumes for the Rule of War that even he wore metal. Steilker, the Master of Crossbowman, wore black armour with gold lettering praising God Vasilli, the Master of the King’s Works and sometime architect of the King’s castles, wore a breast- and backplate and maille. His arm and leg harnesses were made of scales as small as the tip of a lady’s finger, in alternating rows of silver, gold, and copper-bronze. Tancred Guisarme, the Royal Constable and the oldest man present by twenty years, wore the highly decorated armour of his jousting guild, made to look as if he were himself a young dragon, all in green metal and gold trim. De Ribeaumont wore elaborate armour, with sliding plates across his chest edged with bronze and plated gold, with verses from the Bible in hammered silver.
#Greathelm of phantasmic reality full
They assembled in full armour, because that was the way of Galle, and the Rule of War applied every day.
#Greathelm of phantasmic reality professional
Most of the men present – even the hard-faced professional knights like de Ribeaumont, the Marshal, tended to ask Abblemont for his opinion before approaching the King. To be the King’s favourite was to be the keeper of his time and his innermost confidant. ‘How was that?’Ībblemont was on all of the councils – military, civil, treasury, even Church. They’ve lost some of their value anyway.’ He looked at Master Ailwin. It’s old and tired, much clipped and so lighter, but still pure silver.
Right? Now they beat us in two ways: they supply their devalued coins for exchange, which makes traders believe our coins are worth less and they most likely take our true coinage and melt it down.’ He tossed the little, much clipped leopard again. So what have they done?’ He took a deep breath, aware that the King was finally listening, ‘They’ve counterfeited our coins but with less bullion. They devalue their coinage, we don’t, and so our trade is strong. Mmm? So everyone in the Dix Ports trades in our coin and that is our defence. ‘But our coinage is solid – your father made sure of that. It is like an attack.’ He raised a hand to forestall the King and de Vrailly too. ‘So when their crafts fail, their kings must raise money by devaluing the coinage. They don’t have the kind of laws we do to support our cloth, because small men have no voice there.’ His eyes flicked to the armoured man. It stands to reason – our wool is pushing theirs out the market.
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