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and his father, perhaps not hearing properly, doubtless thought he called for help and had tried to come to him, neglecting his own safety. |
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"I have killed him," Geoffrey breathed, tears coming into his eyes again. "God curse me, I have killed him." His voice rose to an agonized wail, but the woman cut him off impatiently. |
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"You have done no such thing. Salisbury is alive and wellbetter than you by far from what I have heard. He is prisoner in Paris." |
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The woman did not repeat her question. There was no need for it. Bastard or not, it was clear that the father and son were close-knit, which meant that Geoffrey could probably draw on Salisbury's purse for more than a plain knight's ransom. She had thought so from the beginning, for her uncle-by-marriage, who had brought Geoffrey to the keep, had told her how Salisbury reacted when Geoffrey called to him. That was why Louis of Baisieux did not kill the young man, who had not even guarded himself against the blow. Instead, at the last minute, he had turned his sword so that only the flat of it crashed against Geoffrey's temple. |
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Loss of blood and exhaustion had done the rest. As Geoffrey toppled, unconscious, from his saddle, he had been seized. His sword had already fallen; his captor stripped away his shield and cast that down, both because it was in the way and because he wished to keep secret the identity of the man he carried across his saddlebow. He had no intention of permitting Geoffrey to be added to the general pool of prisoners and have his ransom go mostly or completely into King Philip's purse. |
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In the rolls of the Exchequer, Louis of Baisieux owed an enormous debt to the king of France. This debt he did not acknowledge as just, although he paid a little on it year by year to keep his land. He served Philip grudgingly, always ready to avoid an obligation if he could. |
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