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Page 437
the rein until the animal's mouth was forced open. Then, as the wagon and its escort disappeared into the dark, he wrenched his mount around to the direction from which the sounds of battle rather than rout were coming, relaxed the rein, and roweled the beast hard again. The horse sprang forward. In moments they were among the fighters. Simon called warnings in Welsh and then let his half-crazed mount attack.
That group broke soon, but there was more legitimate prey on the way. Once the noise of the initial rout began, it was inevitable that the keep should be warned. It had taken a little time for those within to understand what was happening. Now the few nobles and the mercenary captains who had been with the king inside Grosmount were leading out the garrison of the keep in an attempt to drive away the attackers.
Before the defenders from the keep could reach the camp and interfere with the systematic looting that was going on, they were met by both Bassetts, Siward, Simon, and half a dozen others plus their mounted men-at-arms. The black destrier now had his fill of work, and the strange, cruel hands became kind and steadying. Spurs no longer raked his sides but touched him gently, directing him here and there. The unfamiliar scent began to mingle with the familiar and grow acceptable. His energy and fury could be directed at opposing horses and men.
The clash was sharp, and half an hour of hard fighting ensued, but those who had come out of Grosmount were driven back in. Several were unhorsed and their animals caught and led away, but no attempt was made to capture anyone, even after he became easy prey on foot. They were simply prevented from coming anywhere near the camp where they might rally the men and prevent the removal of every stick, shred, and crumb that might be useful for any purpose at all.
Another sally from the keep was met and thrust back, and now the sounds of battle within the camp were

 
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