Roland? Oh, yes, yes, yes. What a... I mean really, well, he was without peer... Ha! Get it? Without peer (Can they hear me?) And all this business about that day outside Paris... it's all wrong. It wasn't Paris at all. It was Aachen. That was my capital. Aachen. What a magnificent... You know, Paris, in what was that, 778?... was just a wide spot in the road. No, it was Aachen. That's where the hot springs were (God I miss that - a nice hot bath...). Oh, yes, but Roland. The greatest warrior I ever... I mean he was a tremendous fighter. I suppose that, really, I'm the greatest warrior of my day, though I never did a whole lot of fighting. I remember Roland as a baby: sweet, sweet little child, huge feet, and quite a farter. I didn't have the slightest inkling he would end up the "flower of chivalry", because he was such a little sweetmeat as a baby. He would coo, and tug on my beard... I remember remembering him as a baby that day outside of... (maybe it was Paris). He was like murderous lightning that day among the Saracens and I thought, how did he come to be this person? Actually, you know, now that I think about it, it might have been Theoderada who was the farter...

Oh, yes. Roland. He was a brilliant warrior. I've never seen his equal, not before or since. I was more fond of him as a baby than my own children. My sister was so jealous of us! It was quite amusing. I have to admit that I played it for all it was worth. I'd hold the boy and wait for her to walk into the room or step around a corner and then I'd pick up with:

Oh, what a sweet boy. If only my children were like you, little Roland.

(Poooot, he'd say.)

Would you like for me to adopt you? Would you like to come and live with your uncle Charles? I'd treat you just like my own son.

Gisela would snort and turn on her heel! Oh, how I laughed. She never caught on. Not very bright, my sister. Roland the same. Very earnest. Very intense and forthright. And very strong. Even though I was a good hand taller than him, he always beat me at wrestling or the joust. But not very bright. For instance, that whole bit where he and... who was it? Astolpho! Where they snuck out past the Saracen camps and then fought their way back into the city... that was all my idea. He would never have thought of something like that. But there was no one else among all the Peers who could have succeeded.

Aachen. Yes. God how I loved that place. The hot springs and the countryside... I would have spent all my time there if it had been possible, but well... heavy lies the head, as they say.

The baths there were magnificent - all this beautiful, hot water steaming up from the ground - even in winter - I had a room built just for the springs - somedays, in the dead of winter, I'd sit in the bath for hours. And I had a cathederal built that was... well words could never... I'll show you a picture sometime. It was so beautiful... I worked on the design myself you know, and we brought marble from Ravenna... I remember once, as a baby, Rollie was in the bath with me and he... well, the farter, he... you know he went. In the bath. It was very funny, got all in my chest hair, and Theoderada went screaming out of the tub... Yes, which reminds me, did you know I invented a salve for curing the rash some babies get on the bottoms? Yes indeed. I'm something of an apothecary... Yes, it was honey, milkweed extract, butter oil and sea salt. Worked quite well. Except in summer. I never figured how to get rid of the flies.

Oh, the siege, yes. Well, here's the thing about that... IT NEVER HAPPENED. At least not in my experience of things. This Bulfinch fellow will tell you otherwise. So will a whole slew of other writers, including this one here. But, I have grown rather fond of the notion. It appeals to a romantic side of me I could never indulge before... and besides, truth has taken on a strange subjectivity for me these days. So, I'll play along. I'll just make it up as we go. Alright? Good.

So, yes, the whole thing started over some damn sword - Clou, I think it was called. Roland had taken it from an infidel at the battle of... (Oh pooh...my memory) some damn place. Spitted some Saracen war-lord and snatched the blade from his hand. Fine piece of work that Clou (Rollie claimed the damn thing talked!) I have rarely seen its equal. So the Saracens came on to Paris asking for it back. Well, I had to stand by Roland. Besides, that jaunty little Arabian cock Mandricardo needed a teaching. I didn't care for his manner. Calling Roland a coward and a murderer. No call for that kind of talk - besides I saw the whole thing myself: Roland beat the man fairly. After a month's worth of siege I got tired of their foolishness and sent Roland and Astolpho (was it?) out to rub their noses in it! Simple as that.