Bourbon next directed his victorious lanz-knechts against the right wing of the French, which had become detached from the main body of the army and enveloped it, as he had done the Black Bands.
In this conflict the brave Clermont d'Amboise was slain, and the veteran Marshal de Chabannes, while rallying his men, had his horse killed under him, and was taken prisoner by a Spanish captain named Castaldo. Chabannes, who was wounded, declared his name and rank to his captor, and desired to be taken to a place of safety. Castaldo agreed, and was removing him from the conflict, when they encountered another Spanish soldier, named Buzarto.
“Hold!” exclaimed the new comer, fiercely. “I claim a share in the prize.”
“Pass on,” rejoined Castaldo. “The prisoner is mine by right of war. I have taken him.”
“You refuse to share him with me?” demanded Buzarto, in a threatening tone.
“I do,” rejoined the other, sternly. “And I counsel you not to meddle with me.”
“And you expect a large ransom—eh?” said Buzarto. “A princely ransom,” rejoined Castaldo, glancing at his prisoner. “I have to do with a marshal of France.”
“A marshal of France!” exclaimed Buzarto, furiously. “Then he shall belong to neither of us.”
And levelling his arquebuss at the noble veteran, who had fought in a hundred battles, he shot him dead—an infamous act, which doomed its perpetrator to general execration.
Meanwhile, the king had thrown himself into the thickest of the fight. His lance having long since been broken, he had drawn his trenchant sword, and, like a paladin of old, dealt blows right and left, and did not refuse a hand-to-hand combat when offered him.