Folk Tales from Gascony: The Bastard, Part 3.
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This is post #27 of my penance after I have been blacklisted by Hivewatchers for plagiarizing.
No need to upvote this post, as the payout has been declined.
But comments are welcome. I will continue to upvote all meaningful comments.
THE BASTARD
The Bastard knelt, confessed, and served mass. At the moment of giving him communion, the old dead priest looked at the tongue of his cleric and was troubled. Yet he continued until the last gospel. This done, he said to the Bastard:
“My friend, you have a golden fleur-de-lys marked on your tongue. This is proof that you are of the blood of the kings of France. The day will come, without delay, when you will be king yourself; but you are not at the end of your trials. Farewell. You will find, hidden behind this altar, an old Maltese knight's sword, which has no equal for killing enemies. I am going to paradise, and there I will pray to the Good Lord to repay you for the service you have done me."
The old dead priest returned underground, the stone fell again, the candles went out, and the Bastard remained alone in the church until the break of dawn. Then he took the old Maltese knight's sword from behind the altar and went to knock at the door of the Castle of Sérillac.
“Hello, noble."
"Hello, Bastard."
"Noble, I just came from the war, and I am a captain. Now I am rich. Soon you will have proof that I am of greater blood than yours. But now I am commanded to be silent. Always keep your daughter for me, and tell the gallants to stay away from her. Otherwise, I am capable of causing great misfortune."
"Bastard, I will do my best to satisfy you."
The Bastard greeted the noble and left. As he was crossing a small wood, not far from the castle, he met the young lady.
“Hello, young lady."
"Hello, Bastard. I was behind the bedroom door when you came to speak to my father, and I don't want any other man than you. Return to the service of the King of France. You now have enough to support both of us and our children. While waiting for you to prove that you are noble, I will wait as long as the Good Lord wants. If you come back, count on me as well as yourself. If you die, I will become a nun in a convent, and I will pray to God for your soul until they take me to the cemetery."
The Bastard saluted the young lady and left. As he walked along, he thought:
“This is a brave young lady. If I make her my wife, I won't be pitied."
After seven days of travel, the Bastard arrived, around sunset, in front of the gate of a large castle.
“My friend,” he said to a passerby, “who is the master of this castle? My horse is out of breath. I want to request accommodation for the night here."
"Be careful, sir. This castle is poorly inhabited. So far, everyone who has entered has never returned."
"Thank you, my friend. I'm not afraid of anyone, and I want to stay here for the night."
"May the good Lord keep you, sir."
The Bastard entered without fear, and searched the entire castle, from the cellar to the attic, without finding either masters or servants. However, a large fire was burning in the fireplace of the great room. The table was set, and there was no shortage of bread, wine, and meat.
So the Bastard sat down and drank and ate until he was full. So he went to sleep in a good bed, taking care to let the light burn and to place at his side the old Maltese knight's sword that he had found, on All Saints' Night, behind the altar of the church of La Roumiouac.
When the final stroke of midnight struck, the Bastard looked into the room. It was full of little creatures, who had come we don't know how, and who remained at rest, without even moving their lips or their eyes.
Source: Le Bâtard, from the French book Contes populaires de la Gascogne, tome 1, published in 1886
Hello, my name is Vincent Celier.
I am writing translations of folk tales that I found in public domain French books, so that people who do not understand French may enjoy them too.
The great eagle has told the Bastard that he needed to find a dead priest for his first communion. And the Bastard, by chance, found a dead priest. Now he has to go see his father, the King of France.
But, he is taking chances and stays the night in a castle that has a very bad reputation. Will something bad happen to him?
Today, one of her childhood friends came to visit Kati for the day. She lives in Dombóvár, a city of less than 20,000 inhabitants, 50 km north of Pécs.
She came by train; the trip by train takes a little more than one hour. Kati went to get her at the station in Pécs.
She brought her three jars of vegetables, mostly hot peppers, from her own garden
Hungarians, when they visit each other, always bring a gift of some sort.
After the hot weather during summer, we now have a colder temperature. At night, it goes down to 3 degrees Celsius. So, in the afternoon, we get some heat from a wood stove.
-- Vincent Celier
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