Now the battle was to begin, for the two armies were drawn up in
fighting array, and Rainouart took his place at the head of his cowards
opposite the Saracens, from which race he sprang.
The charge was sounded, and the two armies met with a shock, and many a
man fell from his horse and was trampled under foot. "Narbonne!
Narbonne!" shouted Aimeri, advancing within reach of a crossbow shot,
and he would have been slain had not his sons dashed to his rescue.
Count William did miracles, and the Saracens were driven so far back
that Rainouart feared the battle would be ended before he had struck a
blow.
Followed by his troop of cowards Rainouart made straight for the enemy,
and before him they fell as corn before a sickle. "Strike, soldiers,"
shouted he; "strike and avenge the noble Vivian."
Rainouart and his cowards pressed on and on, and the Saracens fell
back, step by step, till they reached the sea, where their ships were
anchored.
Then Rainouart drove his staff in the sand, and by its help swung
himself on board a small vessel, which happened to be the very one in
which the nephews of William were imprisoned. He laid about him right
and left with his staff, till he had slain all the gaolers, and at last
he came to a young man whose eyes were bandaged and his feet tied
together. "Who are you?" asked Rainouart.
"I am Bertrand, nephew of William Short Nose. Four months ago I was
taken captive by the Saracens, and if, as I think, they carry me into
Arabia, then may God have pity on my soul, for it is all over with my
body."
"Sir Count," answered Rainouart, "for love of William I will deliver
you."
Seizing the weapons of the dead Saracens, they scrambled on shore, and,
while fighting for their lives, looked about for their uncle, whom they
knew at last by the sweep of his sword, which kept a clear space around
him. More than once Rainouart swept back fresh foes that were pressing
forwards, till the tide of battle carried him away and brought him
opposite Desrame the King. "Who are you?" asked Desrame, struck by his
face, for there was nothing royal in his dress or his arms.
"I am Rainouart, vassal of William whom I love, and if you do hurt to
him I will do hurt to you also."
"Rainouart, I am your father," cried Desrame, and he besought him to
forswear Christianity and to become a follower of Mahomet; but
Rainouart turned a deaf ear, and challenged him to continue the combat.
Desrame was no match for his son, and was soon struck from his horse.
"Oh, wretch that I am," said Rainouart to himself, "I have slain my
brothers and wounded my father--it is my staff which has done all this
evil," and he flung it far from him. He would have been wiser to have
kept it, for in a moment three giants surrounded him, and he had only
his fists with which to beat them back. Suddenly his hand touched the
sword buckled on him by Gibourc, which he had forgotten, and he drew it
from its scabbard, and with three blows clove the heads of the giants
in twain. Meanwhile King Desrame took refuge in the only ship that had
not been sunk by the Christians, and spread its sails. "Come back
whenever you like, fair father," called Rainouart after him.