1356: A Novel
Bernard Cornwell
Language: English
Pages: 432
ISBN: 0061969710
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Bernard Cornwell, the "master of martial fiction" (Booklist), brings Thomas of Hookton from the popular Grail Quest series into a new adventure in 1356, a thrilling stand-alone novel. On September 19, 1356, a heavily outnumbered English army faced off against the French in the historic Battle of Poitiers. In 1356, Cornwell resurrects this dramatic and bloody struggle—one that would turn out to be the most decisive and improbable victory of the Hundred Years’ War, a clash where the underdog English not only the captured the strategic site of Poitiers, but the French King John II as well. In the vein of Cornwell’s bestselling Agincourt, 1356 is an action-packed story of danger and conquest, rich with military strategy and remarkable characters—both villainous and heroic—transporting readers to the front lines of war while painting a vivid picture of courage, treachery, and combat.
vine, but managed to keep his footing. Trumpets called. ‘No arrows!’ someone shouted. ‘The bastards have run out of arrows!’ ‘You can keep your visors up!’ another man called, and just then an arrow flashed in from the left, slashing down into the ranks and glancing off a vambrace to bury its bodkin point in the earth. More arrows came, and all through the French ranks men fumbled to close their visors. The sound of arrows striking armour was like metal hail. A drummer was hit and he fell
and helmet, but carried no shield. ‘The levers,’ he shouted, ‘the levers!’ He had hoped this would not happen, but the French were ready for it, and a group of men equipped with stout oak poles ran to the trapped side of the tower where they placed anvil-like blocks of timber that would be used as fulcrums so that the levers could lift the left-hand side of the tower and allow it to be shoved on. Other men brought buckets of stones to fill the hole so that the rearward wheel could roll over it.
ridge, then slid down the roof’s greasy slope until his feet crashed hard into a small stone parapet. ‘He’s on the refectory!’ a man shouted. Thomas ripped another tile free and hurled it far and high, through the rain and over the roof to fall wherever it might. He heard it crash home, heard the clatter of shards. ‘Other way!’ a voice called. ‘He’s on the chapter house!’ A bell started to toll, then another joined in, and Thomas heard feet on the roof beyond the ridge. He looked left and right,
the river northwards. The sun rose higher and the olive trees gave way to vineyards. He could see five men and three women tilling between the terraces a mile or so away, but otherwise the countryside was empty. He kept to the low ground where he could, but always heading towards the hills. Roland, he thought, would be at least five leagues away from the city by now. ‘I should have killed him,’ he said. ‘Roland?’ ‘I had an archer aiming at his fat head. I should have let him shoot.’ ‘A hard
village, and he had been oblivious of the horsemen until their shadows darkened the door of his barn. He had stared in dumb astonishment at the mounted men, then gone to his knees and scrabbled a hand at his forelock. Thomas had told him he was safe, that they meant him no harm and then, as he had a hundred times on this journey, asked the man whether he knew of the abbey of Saint Junien, and now, for the first time, someone did. ‘There are monks there, my lord,’ the man said nervously, trying