The air was charged with the grind and ring of steel, the stamping of men and horses and the shrieks and curses of the maimed.
The Lord of Aquila, ever foremost, fought desperately on.

Not only with his sword fought he, but with his horse as well.

Rearing the beast on its hind legs, he would swing it round and let it descend where least it was expected, laying about him with his sword at the same time.

In vain they sought to bring down his charger with their pikes; so swift and furious was his action, that before their design could be accomplished, he was upon those that meditated it, scattering them out of reach to save their skins.
In this ferocious manner he cleared a way before him, and luck served him so well that what blows were wildly aimed at him as he dashed by went wide of striking him.

At last he was all but through the press, and but three men now fronted him.