CHAPTER 19
Andrea felt aged, in body, but above all in spirit. And in fact, if he could have looked in the mirror, in spite of his still young age, he could have seen his blond and long hair already streaked with white. Even his beard, gathered in a braid, in the style of the Nordic warriors, tended to be more white than blond. The more than three years spent in the Netherlands, defending an indefensible frontier bulwark against Charles V, on behalf of the King of France, had really worn him out. From the Netherlands he was forced to retreat, first to Lens, then to Arras, then to Crecy, and finally to Hesdin. He had always tried, at the head of the handful of men with whom he had come from Italy, to flank the divisions of pikemen of the King of France in repelling the rare but brutal incu
