Listen, sirs, for the love of God the son of Mary! After their adventure in cleansing Poitou, our French went to Pontorson and from there through the rich land of Brittany, because the duke of Brittany had earlier promised to go to Paris and come to terms with the king and show his friendship but had failed to appear – a foolish mistake: it's always wise to do what one should. Our French campaigned so fiercely in Brittany that the duke was forced at last to flee, first across the daunting sea to England and then to Flanders, where he stayed with a meagre retinue. Meanwhile our French had a noble force in Brittany, where they were well received: many towns submitted to them, and many agreed to become French by a certain date if the duke failed to send them support and aid.

Then our army returned to France, Bertrand to the noble city of Paris where the king gave him a grand and lavish welcome.

Not long after, so history says, at the king's command the duke of Anjou assembled a splendid force and set off to campaign in Périgord. Bertrand went with him readily, as did valiant Owen of Wales, brave Tiébaut du Pont, the noble Marshal Sancerre, Pierre de Villiers (a canny warrior indeed), and many other good knights I shan't name.

When this noble company had assembled they made their way to an ancient, battlemented tower on the border of the Limousin and Périgord, La Bernardière by name. It was garrisoned by a strong and villainous English force, but as soon as a spy informed them that the duke of Anjou was coming with Bertrand they were gripped by fear and took to flight – and set fire to the place, outrageously leaving their prisoners to burn as the fire went out of control. By all accounts a priest was later found among them still clutching a handsome silver chalice, much to the sadness of our good knights.

Our French arrived to find the English gone and La Bernardière burnt to the ground, so there was little to be gained there.