When Jean de Horne, now duly accepted as Bishop, made his state entry into Liége de la Marck rode beside him, and the two soon became inseparable. They usually dined together at the Bishop's table. They gave each other presents. If there was a fête, they attended it in company. They are said to have even slept in the same bed, at that time a favourite sign of friendship among the great. But, though it seemed as if they were bent on setting the people an example of mutual forgiveness and brotherly love, there were some who shook their heads, and hinted that the friendships of great men who have been estranged are seldom sincere.
Next year there was a fête at St. Trond in honour of the Bishop of Liége, at which all the nobles of the Principality, with their wives and daughters, had assembled. De la Marck, of course, was there. Feasting and dancing went on till late in the afternoon, when the Bishop's brothers, Jacques de Horne and Fréderic de Montigny, called for their horses, saying they must start for Louvain. The Bishop proposed to de la Marck that they should ride part of the way in company, and to this he agreed. So the Bishop, his two brothers, and de la Marck rode together till they reached a level plain, where de Montigny challenged de la Marck to race him to a wood which was some distance before them. They started, and left the others behind. De la Marck, who was mounted on a very swift horse, was soon in front, and galloped on till he reached the wood. The moment he drew rein a band of soldiers, who had been lying in ambush, rushed out and surrounded him. Then de Montigny rode up and said: 'You are my prisoner.' De la Marck, who was not armed, asked what he meant, on which de Montigny produced an order for his arrest signed by the Archduke Maximilian, and told him they must now go to Maestricht. 'Then,' said de la Marck at once, 'it is to my death.'
They reached Maestricht in the evening, and soon de la Marck was told that he had only a few hours to live. During the night he was visited by the Prior of the Dominicans, from whom, having made confession, he received absolution. Early next morning they brought him to the scaffold in the market-place. A prodigious crowd had gathered round it, and in a window close at hand, openly rejoicing at the scene, was the Bishop of Liége. De la Marck called to him in a loud voice, reproaching him for his treachery, and uttered a solemn warning that the Wild Boar's head, then about to fall, would 'bleed for many a day.' He asked the nearest of the spectators to carry his last farewells to his wife and children. To his brothers and friends he left the work of avenging his death. He took off his cloak himself, and threw it to the crowd. Then, lifting his long beard so that it covered his face, he bent down, and the executioner struck off his head with one blow.
The Archduke Maximilian had ordered the arrest of de la Marck on the ground that he was engaged in some fresh plot with France; but the conduct of the Bishop and his brothers was loudly condemned even in that age of perfidy. The family of de la Marck swore vengeance, and the Principality of Liége was once more bathed in blood.
Calling to his aid the common people, who had always loved the Wild Boar, and assisted behind the scenes by the King of France, who wished to excite the Liégeois against the Archduke Maximilian, Everard de la Marck, William's brother, made war against Jean de Horne. A sanguinary struggle, in which no mercy was shown on either side, went on for seven years, but at last the Bishop and his friends made up their minds to sue for pardon.
A conference was agreed to, which took place on a meadow near Haccourt, on the Meuse between Liége and Maestricht. On the appointed day the Bishop-Prince, attended by his nobles, but himself unarmed, met the brother of the man whom he had so treacherously ensnared. Dismounting from his horse, he approached Everard de la Marck, and said: 'I ask you to pardon me for the death of your brother William.'
Everard looked on him coldly, and said nothing, whereupon the Bishop burst into tears, and sobbed: 'Seigneur Everard, pardon me. Pardon me, I implore you by the death and passion of our Lord Jesus Christ!' Then Everard, weeping also, answered: 'You ask pardon for the death of my brother in the name of God, who died for us all? Well, I pardon you.' So saying, he gave his hand to the Bishop, and they swore to live at peace with each other.