The Poniard's Hilt; Or, Karadeucq and Ronan. A Tale of Bagauders and VagresSue, Eugène
History
The Poniard's Hilt; Or, Karadeucq and Ronan. A Tale of Bagauders and Vagres
Sue, Eugène
France -- History -- To 987 -- Fiction
"Yes, my sons, that fellow whose head is concealed in a jacket, and whom
our men are carrying, is Neroweg--it is my share of the booty."
"It is your share, Karadeucq--but we, the count's former slaves, demand
to have his skin and bones."
"What a pity that we have not the bishop also--the feast would be
complete."
"The Lion of Poitiers killed the bishop."
"Father, are you sure that infamous bishop is dead?"
"Yes--I saw him fall under the sword of the Lion of Poitiers. The blow
almost clove him in two."
"But how did you manage to capture Neroweg?"
"I kept my eyes upon you and Loysik from a distance, as you were carried
towards the bridge by our Vagres who shouted: 'Room there, room for the
wounded leudes whom we have saved from the ruins.' Mixing in, together
with three other of our men, among the distracted crowd of leudes and
loyal slaves, who were running about helter skelter, I suddenly saw the
count running all alone at a distance, and carrying in his arms with
great difficulty two heavy skin bags, probably filled with gold and
silver; he was running towards a dry well. Neroweg was at that moment
alone and a considerable distance away from the burning buildings. The
thought struck me to seize the man. Together with two of our men I crept
behind the bushes around the cistern into which the count threw one of
the bags, fearing, no doubt, that their contents might be stolen from
him in the general turmoil. The three of us fell upon him unawares, and
threw him down; I planted both my knees upon his chest and both my hands
over his mouth to keep him from crying out for help; one of our men took
off his jacket, gagged Neroweg and wrapped the jacket over the Frank's
head, while our other companion tied his feet, legs and arms firmly,
took a large piece of rough cloth that lay near and wound it around the
seigneur count. The bridge lay not far away; we could see it from where
we stood--and that is the way in which I captured my booty. We are now
far enough away from the burg; the count's voice could not be heard
there. Remove the jacket from his head and the gag from his mouth.
Hurrah for the Vagrery!"
As soon as Neroweg was uncovered and ungagged Karadeucq said to him:
"Count, your hands will remain bound, but I shall now free your legs.
Will you walk to the forest with us?"
"You mean to kill me there! Let us walk, accursed mountebank, you will
see how a Frank marches with a firm step to death--you Gallic dogs, race
of slaves!"
The outskirt of the forest was reached at the peep of dawn--a flitting
moment in the month of June. At the distance a ruddy glamour was seen
struggling against the approaching light of day--it was the
conflagration that still raged over the ruins of the burg.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account