Charles d'Albret was anxious for battle. He felt that his entire life was just preparation for this moment. On the other side of the muddy field, he could see his enemy: a band of Englishmen with hardly any knights among them. Surely that group of peasants was no match for his larger force of mounted knights and men-at-arms?
He removed his helmet, so he could get a better look of his surroundings. He rose in his stirrups to get a better look of the enemy before him, even though he already knew that he had already seen everything there is to see. But these things are expected from a commander. He then turned his ride around and looked at his men. Right behind him were hundreds of mounted knights. He could not see their faces, for they were covered with helmets. But he did not need to see them, for he knew many of them personally.
It was still early in the morning, and dew was condensing on their armour and mounts. He suddenly remembered that his loyal mount had not been milked in due time. "But that can wait until after the battle, surely. For now is the time to address the men".
Again, he rose in his stirrups. "Men, today is the day you have been waiting for! That ragged mob you see in front of you is your enemy. And they are being led by their King! If and when you win today, you will have inflicted a crushing blow to the enemy! And make no mistake, we will prevail today! For our swords are sharp, and our cows are swift! The Englishmen huddling on the other side of this field will never know what hit them! They will be pierced by our swords and trampled under our claws! Tonight we shall drink our milk for the skulls of our fallen enemies!". As soon as he finished his speech, he felt a wave of remorse engulf him. "No skulls, we are not barbarians" he thought to himself. "Disregard my last comment" he shouted to his men. His knights looked at each other and nodded in satisfaction. The idea of drinking their milk from blood-stained skulls was not appealing to them.
He turned around to face the enemy once more. He drew his sword, and few seconds later thousand men behind him drew their swords in unison. "Men! Onwards to battle!". Terrible mooing filled the air as one thousand cows slowly started their charge towards the enemy.
A nearby herd of grazing horses glanced at the spectacle indifferently. No matter what happened today, they would continue their carefree existence.
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