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Updated: May 5, 2025
He said a few words to the interpreter, who commenced to question the two prisoners, conveying as he proceeded, their answers to the general, who would then prompt new questions. "Who are you!" said the interpreter, "Whence come you!" "We are Bretons," answered Albinik. "We come from the Gallic camp, which is established under the walls of Vannes, two days' march from here."
But before starting, and so as to give you strength, you shall presently drink to the victor with good wine of Gaul," and turning to his son: "Guilhern, fetch in the little keg of white wine from Beziers that your brother Albinik brought us on his last trip; fill up the cup in honor of the traveler." When that was done, Joel said to Julyan and Armel: "Now, boys, fall to with your sabres!"
The following day, at sunrise, the wind being favorable and the sea smooth, the Roman galleys were to sail. Caesar wished to be present at the embarkment. He had Albinik brought to him. Beside the general was a soldier of great height and savage mien. A flexible armor, made of interwoven iron links, covered him from head to foot. He stood motionless, a statue of iron, one might say.
"From the outskirts of Vannes up to three leagues from here," answered Albinik, "there remains not a town, not a borough, not a village, not a house, not a sack of wheat, not a skin of wine, not a cow, not a sheep, not a rick of fodder, not a man, woman, or child. Provisions, cattle, stores, everything that could not be carried away, have been given up to the flames by the inhabitants.
"Oh, Albinik! while my forehead reddened with shame and anger under the eyes of Caesar, twice my hand sought and clasped under my garments the weapon with which I am provided. Once I measured the distance which separated me from him it was too great." "At the first movement, before reaching him, you would have been pierced with a thousand sword thrusts. Our project is worth more.
After my poor and well-beloved brother Albinik piloted the Roman fleet into the bay of Morbihan, the following was the course of events on the day of the battle of Vannes. It all took place under my own eyes I saw it all.
For old Gaul shall humble herself vanquished and repentant, before Rome, like the most humble slave or not one of her towns shall remain standing, not one of her warriors living, not one of her people free." "May the gods hear Caesar," answered Albinik.
The cloth of the tent did not come down close to the ground, and Albinik remarked that between the coarsely tanned hides which served as a carpet, and the lower edge of the tent, there remained a space three times the width of his palm. There was no other visible entrance to the tent but the one the couple had just crossed, which was closed by two flaps of cloth overlapping each other.
At sunset they came to a fork in the road. "Of these two ways, which shall we take?" mused Albinik. "One ought to take us toward the camp of Caesar, the other away from it." Reflecting an instant, the young woman answered: "Climb yonder oak. The camp fires will show us our route." "True," said the mariner, and confident in his agility he was about to clamber up the tree.
The first roll contains the story of all that has chanced to our family up to the anniversary of my dear Hena's birthday, that day which also saw her die. This other roll I received this evening about sunset from my son Albinik the mariner. It contains the story of his journey across the burnt territory, to the camp of Caesar.
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