'Avoid me, father,' he cried out.
'By God,' said the King, 'I will not.

I am for you, traitorous beast.' They came together, and Richard heard the old man's breath roaring like a foundered horse's.

He held his sword arm out stiffly to parry the blow.

The King's sword shivered and fell harmless as Richard shot by him.

Turning as he rode (to be sure he had done him no more hurt), he saw the wicked grey face of his father cursing him beyond redemption; and that was the last living sight of it he had.
They got clean away without the loss of a man of theirs, reached the lands of the Count of Perche, and there found a company of sixty knights come out to look for Richard.