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Updated: June 6, 2025
The leudes of Count Neroweg are approaching! To arms! To arms!" Awakened from her restful sleep by the tumult and hearing the cries of the Vagres, little Odille screamed with terror as she threw herself on the neck of Ronan: "Count Neroweg! Save me!" "Fear not, poor child!"
But as sure as this morning we put one of them to the torture, we shall end by wiping them all out, just as Count Neroweg did the other day with a band of them who took refuge in the defile of Allange." "Oh, glorious King, may the Almighty deliver us from these pestilential Vagres!
The other Vagres who, until now had remained hidden in the bushes, rushed forward with loud yells and intrepidly attacked the troop of Neroweg. The combat became general. Who were the vanquishers in that combat? The Vagres or the Franks? Malediction! After a stubborn struggle, almost all the Vagres were slain.
He wore during the combat the Saxon poniard that belonged to Loysik, and which the Master of the Hounds had picked up as he fled from the field of carnage at the fastness of Allange. The Master of the Hounds returned the poniard to my brother after our flight from the burg of Neroweg. Loysik afterwards presented the weapon to my father. He wore it on the day of the encounter with the Franks.
As to Neroweg himself, a mass of combatants had again thrown themselves between him and the Lion of Poitiers, to whom he called in an enraged voice and struggled to reach. The warriors of Chram and those of the count soon passed from insults and threats, hurled at each other from a distance, to a hand-to-hand conflict.
Fortunately by means of a gentle tug given at the chain, Karadeucq recalled the Vagre to prudence and the latter continued his gambols with the most indifferent air in the world; but his conductor, without letting the chain slip from his hands, threw himself at the feet of Neroweg and said: "Seigneur count, illustrious seigneur!" "What would you of me, old mountebank?"
It almost looks, you vainglorious rustic, as if you took us for thieves." "Neroweg offers his hospitality in the way that suits him," put in Sigefrid, the count's leude, in a tone of muffled anger; "those who eat the meat and drink the wine of this house have no right to complain of the dishes if these don't suit them, let them go and fill up elsewhere."
All prisoners yes, they were all taken to the burg of the Frankish count, while Bishop Cautin, carrying with him his gold and silver vases, regained Clermont followed by a pious crowd of slaves who cried on his passage: "Glory to our holy bishop! Glory to the blessed Cautin! Hosanna!" The burg of Count Neroweg is situated in the center of a space once occupied by a fortified Roman camp.
"Finally, I order that the count burn to death, over a slow fire, a certain Moabite woman, a witch, an infernal wench, who once was bound to me by the bonds of holy matrimony. "Let Count Neroweg carry out these, my orders; only at that price shall his sins be remitted, and on the day of his death I shall admit him into paradise. "That is the message that the Lord entrusted me to bear to you.
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.
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