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Updated: June 22, 2025
I had neither the hope nor the desire to learn whether my wife and children had escaped death; but remembering that I had seen neither Henory, Sylvest nor Syomara come from the enclosure behind the war-chariot, I said to the "horse-dealer": "Where did you purchase me?" "In the place where we make all our purchases, my fine Bull. On the field of battle, after the combat."
"Oh, those who carry on the trade in children have a separate and assured patronage, especially if the children are favored with pretty features. Are your young ones good-looking?" "Yes," I answered in spite of myself. Before me was the vision of the charming fair faces of my little Sylvest and Syomara, who looked as much alike as twins and whom I had embraced a moment before the battle of Vannes.
Their eyes brooded with motherly terror upon the two veiled children, while the matron, bound to the post, her eyes glittering and her teeth set in impotent fury, raised her chained arms to heaven as if to call down the punishments of the gods upon such monstrosities. At a sign from lord Trymalcion, the veils dropped I recognized you both you, my son Sylvest and your sister Syomara.
In one of the battles, Syomara, who, led thereto both by duty and love, accompanied Oriegon, her husband, to battle in a war-chariot, was separated from her husband during the fray, taken prisoner, and placed under the guard of a Roman officer, who was a miser and a libertine.
He found at every step mementos of his ancestors the wide field on which his ancestor and his two sons, Guilhern and Mikael, indulged in the virile exercises of the mahrek-ha-droad still spread before his eyes; the living spring, at the edge of which Sylvest and Syomara had in their infantine games built their little hut to protect themselves from the heat of the sun, still babbled along its course.
Mikael, being on foot, took in his arms his son and his daughter, while Henory, to spare me the trouble of dismounting from my horse, reached out, one at a time, my little Syomara and Sylvest into my arms. I seated them both before me on the saddle, and at the moment of starting for the fight, I had the pleasure of kissing their yellow heads.
Syomara then cut off his head, placed it in a fold of her dress and returned to the camp of her people. Oriegon, who had himself been also taken prisoner and managed to escape, arrived in camp at the same time as his wife.
"Listen to the end of the story, friend guest," said Joel; "you will see that Syomara is the peer of the Gallic woman of the Rhine."
The miserly Roman, wishing himself to receive the ransom and not share it with anyone else, led Syomara alone to the appointed place. The friends of Oriegon were there with the gold for the ransom. While the Roman was counting the gold, Syomara addressed the Gauls in their own tongue and ordered them to kill the infamous man. Her orders were executed on the spot.
"It is a very short and simple story," answered Margarid plying her distaff. "The story is as simple as the action of my ancestral grandmother. Her name was Syomara."
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