Richard expected them to ford the Epte, for his army was on the opposite side of the river. When they kept marching north, he began to reassess his assumption. If they did not mean to confront his army at Dangu, what were they up to? He pondered it for a while and then it came to him, so suddenly that he laughed aloud.
“They are heading for Courcelles,” he told his knights. “He does not know we took it so quickly and he’s coming to relieve the siege.” That made sense to them, for the French were heading north, straight as an arrow toward Courcelles. Richard was rapidly reconsidering his options now that he realized what Philippe had in mind. “We have a God-given opportunity,” he said, “for if we attack them whilst they are marching, they are likely to panic and flee.” He added scornfully, “That is what Philippe always does.” His men were in enthusiastic agreement, and after he sent one of the knights back to Dangu with orders for Mercadier to join them, they resumed their shadowy surveillance, keeping to the woods that bordered the road.
They were in high spirits, caught up in the thrill of the hunt, for their quarry was close at hand, but utterly unsuspecting. Richard’s excitement communicated itself to his destrier and Argento fought the bit, wanting to run. “Soon, boy, soon,” Richard crooned, reaching over to stroke the horse’s neck. “There will be plenty of stallions for you to fight. And for me, a king ripe for the plucking.” He indulged himself then, imagining how Philippe’s capture would forever change their world. The French threat would be trampled into the dust like its fleur-de-lys banners, the country bled white to pay for their king’s ransom, one that would make Heinrich’s demands seem paltry and trifling. Assuming the French would want Philippe back. Why should they? He’d shamed himself by fleeing the Holy Land, shamed himself again at Fréteval and Vernon, made a fool of himself at Issoudun. God’s blood, the French might well pay to keep Philippe off the throne! Richard laughed again, and his men laughed, too, for they were never happier than when they were riding the whirlwind with him.
But as the afternoon wore on, Richard felt some of his confidence ebbing away. The French were not that far from Courcelles now. There they would learn that the castle was in his hands and realize their danger. If he hoped to catch them by surprise, it had to be soon. If he waited for his reinforcements, they were likely to slip out of the trap.
Signaling for a halt, he waited until his men had reined in within sound of his voice. “They are going to get away,” he said, “unless we act now. If we want to attack them whilst they are marching and at their most vulnerable, we cannot wait.”
He saw that they were taken aback, some of their eagerness blunted by unease, for they would be greatly outnumbered. “I think it best that we wait for Mercadier and his men,” Jean de Préaux said, for he had fought beside Richard often enough to have earned the right to speak his mind. His brother Guilhem also counseled caution, as did Morgan and several of the others.
Richard heard them all out. “Of course it would be better if we had more men,” he agreed when the last one was done speaking. “But time is not our ally. With each mile, our hopes dim. Can any of you deny that we need to stop them from reaching Courcelles?”
While none could, Richard knew their silence did not mean he’d vanquished their misgivings. “Yes, there are more of them,” he said. “But they are French.” They were amused by that, and he saw some frowns replaced by reluctant smiles. He tightened Argento’s reins when he noticed that the stallion was eyeing another destrier, and then rose in the stirrups so they could all hear him.
“Victory will be ours, I promise you. Why? Because we have the benefit of surprise. Because we are fighting Philippe Capet. And,” he added with a sudden grin, “because we have me.”
As was so often the case, his cockiness proved contagious. They were all laughing by now, and when he said that for years to come, men would be telling stories around campfires of this day, they believed him.