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Updated: May 22, 2025
Grumbling and blaspheming between his teeth, Chram finally and slowly alighted from his horse and motioned his two favorites Imnachair and Spatachair, both of whom took the hint, to do as he did, and drop down upon their knees.
"Down on your knees, our Prince! Down on your knees! Obey the orders of the holy bishop it is the Lord who speaks to us through his mouth!" "Down on your knees, King! Down on your knees!" Chram was forced to yield.
Be quick, be quick, leap upon your roan horse harnessed in its saddle and bridle of red leather, with bit and stirrups of silver! Quick! Ride out at a gallop to meet your glorious Prince Chram; ride out at the head of your horsemen and footmen! Already your royal guest and his suite, whose approach one of their forerunners has announced, are only at a little distance from your burg.
He ordered me to bring it to you, in order that it be joined to our family relics." "My brother's death was brave, like his life. A curse upon that Chram, son of Clotaire! Had he not raided Burgundy, my brother Karadeucq might still be alive!" "Like you, Kervan, I say a curse upon Chram! But, at any rate, he met on the frontiers of our Brittany the merited punishment for his criminal life."
His warriors made a circle around Chram and his family. Clotaire then sheathed his sword, folded his arms over his breast, and for an instant contemplated his son in silence. Chram fell on his knees; with clasped hands he implored his father's pardon, and then bowed down his head to the ground; his wife and two daughters sobbed aloud. Clotaire looked upon the group long in silence.
My own troops are enough to fight Clotaire if he should take it into his head to invade our territory, which, until now no Frank has attempted with impunity. "Feeling at least certain of Kando's neutrality, but nevertheless crowded into a corner at the frontier of Armorica, Chram now stood at bay and prepared for a desperate combat on the morrow.
As true as scissors have never touched my hair, I, Chram, son of Clotaire, King of France, I shall never rest so long as those Armorican demons are not crushed and drowned in their own blood. Too long have they resisted our arms. We shall soon make short work of them."
"It is that the bishop is in great hurry to try, sentence and witness the execution of the Vagres and their accomplices who are held prisoners in the ergastula of this burg above all because he wishes to witness the execution of the bishopess." "I still do not understand you, Chram.
The three dear friends of Chram, still dearer friends of pillage, of murder and of rape, accompany the royal personage, do you not hear? Their names are Imnachair, Spatachair, and the "Lion of Poitiers," the renegade Gaul, who, like so many others of his stripe, rallied to the conquering Franks.
The dogs! the dogs! Neroweg alone commands here." "Yes, and to the devil with the King!" cried Sigefrid. "The devil take Chram if he opposes our enjoyment! We are masters here." "Only brutes of rustics send their guest to the devil when he is the son of their King," put in the Lion of Poitiers with a threatening air. "Is that the example in courtesy that you set to your men, Neroweg?
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