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Updated: June 27, 2025
"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."
"What is the matter, Madalen? What is the matter, Jocelyn? What makes you look so pale? Why those tears? What has happened to Karadeucq?" "Read, father, read this little parchment that Yvon the neat-herd has just brought me " "Oh! A curse! A curse upon that peddler with his Bagaudy! He bewitched my son the Korrigans are the cause of this misfortune "
"Now, Karadeucq, I shall conceal my poniard in one of the folds of the jacket by the way, it is the very Saxon knife that I picked up as I fled from the defile of Allange. I picked it up on the field of battle. You can see on the hilt of the arm the two Gallic words 'Friendship, 'Community' graven in the iron. 'Friendship' that is a good omen. Friendship, as well as Love, leads me to the burg.
Make not such requests. They frighten me," cried the boy's mother. "Roselyk, dear sister, do not my wife's words remind you of our mother scolding our brother Karadeucq because he wished to see the Korrigans? She used to say: 'Hold your tongue, bad boy!" "Alas, brother, all mothers' hearts are alike." "Father, I hear steps outside it must be old Gildas.
If they searched for him, they must have found the count's body at the outskirts of the forest, with his skull cleaved in twain by an axe blow, and stretched out at the foot of a tree, with the outward bark ripped off and on the bare trunk of which the following words were engraved with the point of a dagger: "Karadeucq, the Vagre, a descendant of the Gaul Joel, the brenn of the tribe of Karnak, killed this Frankish count, a descendant of Neroweg, the Terrible Eagle.
"Your father, each such time, went to visit a poor female slave near Tulle. She was bound to the glebe of the bishop of that city. That female slave, it is now at least thirty years ago, one day found your father Karadeucq, who was then the chief of the Bagauders, wounded and in a dying condition in a hedge along the road.
This is my answer, my son: Read the narrative that I am now writing on that winter's evening when you, your wife and your children will gather by the fire in the large hall of our farmhouse and await the return of my pet Karadeucq, who left for the chase early in the morning promising to bring home a stag.
"Roselyk, look well at this young man look at his eyes, his forehead, his bearing, his face." "Oh, brother, one sees strange resemblances at times. One would think that our brother Karadeucq himself stood before us that is how he looked at the time that he ran away." "Roselyk, do you not notice that the stranger seems strangely affected? There are tears in his eyes.
Moreover, in order to keep the curious at a distance, Karadeucq pulled in the chain to which the animal was attached and cried: "Seigneurs, do not come too near the teeth of the bear, he is often sullen and ferocious."
"He is yours, old Karadeucq you may dispose of him at your pleasure. Say the word and we will strike him down dead." "I wish him to be unbound; I wish him to have the full use of his limbs but make a strong circle around us two, so that he can not run away." "Here we are a strong circle of swords' points, axes, pikes and sharp scythes he will not be able to break through."
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