Robert de Cunningham (chapitre 1) ….found at the National Library in Paris (translate with Jim Hutchison)
Calm had taken over from the tumult of armies in conflict and night was drawing in. Already the hour had come when a white tailed eagle, in silent flight, would utter it’s dismal cry terrorising superstitious mortals. Black clouds, gathering in the East, were casting a veil over the coppery disk of the moon which was revealing itself little by little. Here and there the dull rays of the night stars were projected onto the battlefield, similar to those torches whose pallid and smoky flames are used as lanterns at funerals. Their faint light lit up many groups covered in rags and searching this vast tomb, attracted by the lure of plunder. Like a pack of ravenous jackals finding a rotting corpse in the desert they searched the bloody piles of flesh, of scattered limbs and broken bones to gather up dirty and soiled items of clothing.
These men, eager for plunder, with the savage air of their wild looks and haggard appearance, the frenzied cries they shouted, the savage blows they exchanged, screaming with fury revealed the most hideous base acts of human nature worsened by poverty, greed and hunger.
In the midst of this scrawny horde was a Hermit, dressed in a long white robe. A tall man, he stood above the crowd, his appearance calm and serene, his exhortations to help those who still had a breath of life made him appear like the Spirit of Christian Charity, doing his best to calm the chaotic turmoil that was raging all around him. But his powerful voice was speaking in vain and the looters remained oblivious to compassion and were only existing to satisfy their thirst for plunder. They did ever more. While some were stealing everything they could get their hands on, others, with spades were opening up large pits to bury the bodies. No thought was given as to whether any trace of live remained in any of those poor wretches scattered here and there on the field of battle. They threw them in piles into the hollows, battering those whose seemed still to be breathing, or covered them with earth until the heavy mass suffocated them, a deathly silence shut up their moaning or put an end to their imploring prayers.
Alain is looking at the Hermit but the miserable expression on his face makes it easy to appreciate how much the order he had just been given had displeased him. But the latter, seeing his reluctance, cast him a fearsome look followed by such a very significant gesture that he understood right away that he had to obey,
under pain of being of himself being launched into the abyss. He had to battle against an overwhelmingly superior person and felt the force of the attacks when a violent blow drove him far back from the individual whose goods he had appropriated. So the Hermit bending over the body stretched out to his feet positioned him on the slope from where he could slide into the water.
There was faint respiration, he judged that he was still living, and placing a device to stem the flow of the blood which was seeping from his wounds he ordered a peasant to transport this individual to a place where he could give him help.
Silent and fearful , the peasant set about cutting willow branches, which he intertwined to form a kind of stretcher. This work done, he covered him with his rags which he took off with deep sorrowful sighs.
The Hermit and he gently laid there the wounded man, and lifting the stretcher, they proceeded away from the battlefield.

They climbed down the other side of the hill and crossed deserted countryside whose heather and heathland extended right to the limits of a vast forest. The Hermit made his way in there by way of faint path. The winding trail through the woods led to a hermitage built next to an old and huge ruin which seemed to be in bits. An overhanging rock, with water trickling from the top, hid it from one side, whilst on the other dense trees intertwined with climbing ivy screened the approaches surrounding them with impenetrable foliage.
The Hermit went into the hermitage; he put his burden down in his cell and hurried to administer to him the treatment he required.

Regards
François Redien