Sir Yves' perjurous utterance was his death warrant. Goaded to fury by this breach of faith, Sir Oliver spurred his horse up to the foot of the daïs, and, mace in hand, dealt a crashing blow at the recreant knight.
Hemmed in by the high-backed chair, the Lord of Malevereux was unable to avoid the stroke. With warder raised he strove to parry the ponderous weapon, but death came to him far more mercifully than he had brought it to others. Sir Yves de Valadour, of the high, of the middle, and the low, lay a corpse in the midst of the assembly that had gathered to witness his triumph over his captive.
Wheeling, Sir Oliver rode straight for the gateway of the castle. Not one of the knights stirred a hand to hinder him, though several of the garrison of Malevereux attempted to bar his way. Two men-at-arms went down under his charger's hoofs, but before the portcullis could be dropped or a cross-bowman had levelled his cumbersome weapon the English knight was spurring across the drawbridge, well on his way to freedom.
CHAPTER XII
IN WHICH GEOFFREY IS LAID BY THE HEELS
The courtyard of the Castle of Malevereux presented a scene of utter confusion, following Sir Oliver's desperate deed and successful flight.
With one accord the spectators made towards the gate, shouting and jostling in their haste to leave the scene of the tragedy. Many were the glances cast askance at the mangled heap lying in ghastly solitude on the floor of the daïs, for not one of the chief guests remained by the body of the dreaded Tyrant.
Filled with a wild excitement of joy at his father's escape, Geoffrey mingled with the surging crowd. Now that the object of his visit to Malevereux was accomplished, though 'twas not his doing, the lad realized that his best plan was to depart as unobtrusively as possible and make his way back to Taillemartel, whither Sir Oliver must assuredly have gone.
The lad had gained the gateway of the outer bailey. In another moment he would have crossed the drawbridge and shaken the dust of Malevereux from his feet, when a heavy hand grasped him by the shoulder.
"'Tis he, sure enough. Secure him, mes garçons," exclaimed a deep voice, and, turning his head, Geoffrey found that his captor was the man-at-arms who had spoken to him at the entrance to the inner ward.