“It is under such circumstances, when the innocent may be suspected.”
“Then, my lord, I saw Hubert shoot that deer, as I was in the West Woods.”
“Saw him! Did he see you?”
“It is a lie, my lord,” cried Hubert indignantly. “I cast the lie in his teeth, and challenge him to prove his words by combat in the lists, when I will thrust the slander down his perjured throat.”
The earl had his own doubts as to this new piece of evidence, for he was aware of Drogo’s feelings towards Hubert, and therefore he welcomed the indignant denial of the younger boy. Still, he could not permit mortal combat at their age. They were not entitled to claim it while below the rank of knighthood.
“You are too young for the appeal to battle.”
“My lord,” whispered one of his knights, “a similar case occurred at Warkworth Castle when I was there: a page gave another the direct lie as this one has done, and the earl permitted them to run a course with blunted lances and fight it out; adjudging the dismounted page to be in the wrong, as indeed he afterwards proved to be.”
“Let it be so,” said Earl Simon, who had a devout belief in the ordeal, as manifesting the judgment of the Unerring One. “We allow the appeal, and it shall be decided this afternoon in the tilt yard.”
Blunted lances! Not very dangerous, our readers may think at first thought. But the shock and the violent fall from the horse was really the more dangerous part of the tournament. The point of the lance seldom penetrated the armour of proof in which combatants were encased.
The pages separated in great excitement. Most of them held with Hubert—for Drogo’s arrogant manners had not gained him many friends. Much advice was given to the younger boy how to “go in and win,” and the poor lad was eager for the fight whereby his honour was to be vindicated, as though victory and reputation were quite secured, as indeed in his belief they were.