“Lucilla, you are not safe here. You better come stay with Livia in Rivo Alto, until the situation in Patavium changes…”
There was still plenty of snow in Sleghe, but the days were getting longer, and the snow was melting. Adalulf was standing, looking north to the mountains. He was dressed as a Cimbrian, in fur from head to toe, having arrived there with almost no clothes. His beard was now well groomed, and although he looked even older, given what he had been through, he felt healthy. He walked with a limp, but he could walk again. ‘Finally!’ he thought. He approached Boiorix’s wife and asked her:
“So, are you sure that if I keep walking north, in a couple of days I will arrive in the town of Tridentum?”
“Yes, I am sure,” Boiorix’s wife replied. “I mean, don’t walk straight up into the mountains. Either walk up the valley to the left, or walk up to the valley to the right.”
“Which one do you suggest?”
“If you go to the right, it’s the continuation of the Brint River, all the way to the mountain pass. It’s flatter, and being still winter, it might be better. But it is longer… If you go up to the left, you go up the Aste River. It’s shorter, but there is a steeper mountain pass and it’s still snowy… Which one will you take?”
“I think I will take the one to the left… I will go up the Aste Valley… I like that name… I have seen plenty of the Brint River! Heh, heh, heh…”
Adalulf laughed at the idea of having had too many adventures near the Brint River, but Boiorix’s wife did not understand the Longobard’s amusement.
“Are you sure you do not want to wait for Boiorix to come back? He might have some news for you…”
“I just wanted him to bring down the good news to my own wife, but I don’t think there will be any good news coming up for me… It’s safer for me that I go north, and it will be safer for you, now that spring is approaching, that I won’t be in Sleghe… There is still a heavy army down in Patavium…”
“Who are you going to see in Tridentum?”
“Well, the Duke of Tridentum himself, of course! Duke Alachis! We go way back, Alachis and I. He is an old and reliable friend. That’s where my comeback will begin… up in the mountains! From there, I will come down the Athesis River and I will have the last word…”
Adalulf smiled broadly at Boiorix’s wife. She and her family were the angels that saved him, and he was immensely grateful.
“Well, good luck! And watch out with that leg! I am not sure it is up for such a strenuous hike! But you look like a tough warrior!”
“Thank you, thank you for your hospitality!”
Adalulf turned around and started walking through the foot-deep snow, aided by his walking stick.
It was a windy day in the Adriatic, and Polo was watching two ships approach Ruvinium’s port. Polo squinted his eyes to see who was on board.
“Is that… is that Primo at the helm of the ship on the left?”
“Looks like it…” Sabino confirmed to Polo.
“…and is that… is that Marcello at the helm of the other ship?”
“Yes, yes, that’s definitely Marcello!” Sabino replied, just as surprised as Polo.
“But that’s ship five and ship six!” Polo exclaimed. “They were supposed to come with the last two ships! Something went wrong…”
As Marcello and Primo docked their ships in Ruvinium, Polo came by and asked:
“What happened? Are we going with only six ships?”
“I am fine, thank you,” Primo replied sarcastically. “I am glad to see you are fine as well…”
“Really, what happened?” Polo insisted.
“Things are taking a turn for the worse, my brother. Patavium is no place for me to be, not while Bertwalt is there. And if and when Adalulf returns, then that’s definitely not going to be a place for me…”
“So, you could not go back and get forty more slaves? You know how much gold that is, Primo? That’s… that’s… Sabino! Tell him how much money that is…” Polo continued fretting about the lost profits and ignoring the news about Adalulf.
“Well, if it is thirty solidi per slave, that’s one thousand and two hundred gold solidi!”
“Over one thousand gold solidi! Did you hear that, Primo?” Polo commented on Sabino’s accounting.
“Yes, I was supposed to go get them today, in exchange for Aldo…” Primo replied.
“Well, I see your point…” Polo added, “…but please, Bertwalt is not going to kill the poor boy! He would have just kept him hostage as protection from Adalulf! Just like we are doing! That’s a risk worth taking for over a thousand solidi!”
“I had a feeling I was risking my life as well,” Primo explained to Polo. “And even though you would keep me in Patavium’s jail in exchange for a thousand gold coins… I’d rather not!”
“Besides, we did not have enough salt to load the next two ships…” Marcello added.
“Who cares about salt!” Polo exclaimed.
“You do!” Primo replied. “Remember how you were frowning about trading slaves? And how you insisted we made room for salt as well? In case things go wrong with the slaves?”
“Yes, but now I have met them! They are great people! We saved them from a hellish prison, and now we are taking them to a warmer climate. I have been feeding them well, and they are all happy! Trading slaves is definitely a lot more fun than trading inanimate merchandise!”
“Oh, Primo!” Sabino informed. “Tribune Stefanos is here in Ruvinium too!”
“He is? How come?” Primo immediately asked.
“He is on his way to Constantinople,” Sabino continued. “Each year, the capital is sieged by the Arabs, so this year he is going to help!”
“That’s not good…” Primo realized. “We are gone, he is gone… our women and children are there by themselves… all sorts of Longobards are out to get me… I don’t know if I like this!”
“But he said he will escort us down the Adriatic!” Polo tried to look at it from the positive side. “At least we won’t have to worry about those pirates along the way!”
“I’d much rather take on those pirates, believe me…” Primo replied.
The next day, the six Venetian ships sailed south, escorted by three Byzantine ships lead by Tribune Stefanos. They were heading straight to Kerkyra for their second year of Mediterranean trade. Farther out on the horizon they spotted three rival merchant ships from Ravenna. Because of Tribune Stefanos’ presence, Primo already knew that the two merchant convoys from the two rival cities would have traveled together and peacefully. The Tribune had a duty to protect all Byzantine vessels, but if he was not there, there could have been a vicious battle. Primo thought to explain this to young Aldo, initiating him to the cutthroat world of high sea merchants.
“You see, Aldo, we will be sailing south next to those merchant ships from Ravenna…”
“Of course, Ravenna is our ally…” young Aldo replied.
“Yes, but you see, politically we are on the same side, but commercially we are rivals…” Primo explained. “Remember, Aldo, we must not tolerate any other town trading in the Adriatic: it’s going to be either us or them.”
“But we are both trading now…” Aldo objected.
“Because we are emerging. Either they will squash us, or we will suffocate them. There is no other way.”
Chapter 21
HAPPY BIRTHDAY
It was an early spring morning in Rivo Alto, and the sun was warming up the façade of Marcia’s house. She was sitting on a log placed outside next to her house door. It was used as a bench for the children who usually played in that courtyard, but it was a little too short for an adult to sit on. Nevertheless, she enjoyed sitting there basking in the sun, even if the breeze coming from the sea was still quite chilly. She had wrapped herself in a blanket, and only her face, outlined by her th
ick brown hair, was exposed to the warm sunrays. Her eyes were barely open, and her blue irises were particularly sparkly as she was teary from the bright light.
“Mom!” Orso called.
Orso’s voice preceded him as he exited the house with his eyes shut, blinded by the sunshine.
“Good morning my little bear cub! You slept in late!”
Marcia opened the blanket inviting Orso to come share the warmth underneath. Orso sat on her lap, facing inward, and rested his cheek on her bosom. Marcia wrapped the blanket around him and squeezed him tight. She kissed him on his unkempt morning hair and said:
“You know, Orso, this is a special day, you know why?”
“Why?”
“Because on this very day, six years ago, you were born…”
Orso thought about it for an instant and then asked:
“And how do you know it was this exact day?”
“Because you were born on the first day of spring!”
“And how do you know it’s the first day of spring? All days seem the same to me…”
“Well, it’s when daytime is as long as nighttime. I can tell by watching where the sun sets… My father taught me that, you know?”
“And how did he know?”
“I don’t know… it’s a long tradition among fishermen…”
“Can you teach me, mommy?”
“Sure! This evening we will look west and I’ll show you where the sun is setting. As the days get warmer the sun sets a bit further up north each evening…”
“…wait, where is west?” Orso realized his mom was using words he did not quite understand.
“Over in that direction… do you see that hill beyond the lagoon?”
“Yes…”
“Just north of that hill there is the town of Patavium, where Aunt Livia is from, and on the first day of spring the sunset barely clears that hill…”
Orso did not quite understand what west was. He thought that it was the name of that hill. He got up, and stood tall, as straight as possible. He pointed his little finger and said:
“Mommy, when I grow up I want to go climb that hill and see where the sun goes to rest at night.”
While Orso was squinting his eyes to look at all tiny details at the western edges of the lagoon, Marcia was smiling and looking at her handsome son.
“Sure, Orso, when you grow up you go over that hill and tuck the sun into bed…”
“Mommy? What are all those little boats doing?”
As Orso was still looking west on his tip toes, Marcia had closed her eyes and faced the sun to the southeast to warm up a little more.
“Orso, those must be birds you are seeing. Your dad, your Uncle Primo and all the merchants have sailed south days ago… they are not on the way back from Patavium…”
“Ooooh…” Orso continued. “There are so many little boats! I have never seen so many!”
“…and all the other men that stayed back…” Marcia was ignoring her son. “They are still fishing out in the Adriatic… no one ventured down the Brint River this morning…”
“Mommy… the tiny boats are getting bigger…”
Marcia opened her blue eyes and stared at Orso. She then got up and decided to look to the west too. She saw countless rafts and makeshift boats advancing toward Rivo Alto. It could only be the Longobard army. Bertwalt had inexplicably decided to invade the lagoon.
“Livia! Paulina!” Marcia yelled.
Both Paulina and Livia, but also Lucilla, came out of their homes and reached Marcia who was still staring west.
“My God! They are so many!” Paulina screamed. “We must flee while we have time!”
“Quick! Livia, get the children! I’ll get the boat!” Lucilla shouted at her daughter.
“Longobards! Run! Spread the word! Run!” Marcia yelled to everyone who could hear her.
Marcia sounded the alarm to the few other houses nearby. It was mostly women and children, but they all boarded the small lagoon boats, and they started rowing in the opposite direction. As they navigated east through the canals, they alerted the people of Canareclo and Olivolo. By noon, they were all at a safe distance in Lido Albo, where they met with Hermetruda, Fabia and others from Canareclo. They were looking back at what used to be their homes and their lives. Now all they saw was flames and black smoke all the way up to the sky. Bertwalt was burning down everything. The houses, the shipyard, the two ships that were left behind by Primo… everything.
“They are many…” Hermetruda commented. “And all our men are either far away trading or out fishing, but these Longobards look so vulnerable when they are not on their horses…”
“What do you mean?” Marcia did not understand.
“Look at them! They don’t know how to navigate their rafts. They are so slow and they look so silly! They are not as mighty and powerful as on land!”
“I guess if they came galloping we would not stand a chance…” Marcia commented.
“True…” Hermetruda continued. “This lagoon makes men and women equal. We could escape as fast as they could arrive. It’s a big advantage compared to living in the mainland… But we still had to flee… If only my Lulfy was here, he would shred that Bertwalt to pieces…”
The town of Tridentum was located in the middle of the Athesis Valley, way deep into the Alps. It was the gateway between the Germanic north and the plains of North Italy, where the Longobards had their reign. Tridentum was a little more than a wooden fort, and at the edges of town, two guards were chatting until they spotted a figure advancing in the distance. A bearded man, covered in fur clothes and helped by a cane, was making his way through the wet snow of early spring.
“Stranger approaching!” A guard shouted.
“Alert Duke Alachis!” The second guard yelled.
Soon after, Alachis, the Longobard Duke of Tridentum, was approaching the main gate to the south of town, escorted by half dozen guards. He was a fifty-year-old man, quite old for a warrior, and although not as physically fit as he was during his glory days, he still ruled with an iron fist and a chronic bad temper. He never spoke softly, as screaming was his normal tone of voice.
He exited the gate frowning, as to personally confront the unsolicited newcomer with an unwelcome shout. ‘What is a lone Cimbrian doing so far down from the mountains so early in the season’ he thought. But as the stranger was closing in, Duke Alachis’ eyebrows lifted up, erasing his relentless frown, and as his eyes widened he started to stutter:
“Is… Is that… Is that the… the Wulf!?”
Duke Alachis rushed forward through the foot-deep snow.
“Adalulf? Is that really you!?”
“I think it’s been two decades, my old friend…” Adalulf replied.
“It is you! It is you! So, it’s true! I don’t believe it! Come! Come in!”
The two old warriors hugged each other. Adalulf was barely moving his feet as he was exhausted by the journey across the mountains, but Duke Alachis could not contain his joy as he hugged Adalulf. He turned around and advanced toward the gate with his arm over Adalulf’s shoulders.
“Soldiers!” Duke Alachis screamed. “You youngsters must bow in front of this Longobard legend! Your Duke and this man over here first went to battle together at age fifteen!”
“You were fifteen, Alachis,” Adalulf corrected his old friend. “I was still fourteen when our fathers took us to fight the Byzantines in the battle of Mantua.”
“That’s right! But, you still saved my life in that battle! I haven’t forgotten!”
Duke Alachis loudly laughed as he finally had a peer to relate to. They entered the palace and as Duke Alachis barged in, he started screaming:
“Rodelinda! Rodelinda!”
“What!?” His wife Rodelinda yelled back.
The voice of Duke Alachis’ wife sounde
d fed-up, and she screamed just as loud as her husband did. After many years together, this had been the only way to communicate with the Duke.
“Rodelinda! You won’t believe who is here!” Duke Alachis continued.
Rodelinda appeared from the other room and stared at the guest before exclaiming:
“Lulf!”
She strode toward Adalulf and put her arms around his neck squeezing him tight.
“Rodelinda, you haven’t aged one bit! As Alachis is getting fat and ugly, you are getting prettier and skinnier!”
Rodelinda was in fact in great shape. Her face was smooth without wrinkles for a fifty-year-old woman, and her waist hinted at an active and healthy lifestyle.
“Lulf, we heard about your ordeal! The news of Grimwald’s death arrived all the way up here fast!”
“Yes, when they told us that Grimwald was killed by a warrior named Adalulf, Rodelinda and I replied that we used to know an old warrior named Adalulf!” Duke Alachis added. “Ha! We thought it was a young warrior with your same name!”
“And the face Alachis made when they told him that this Adalulf used to be the lord of Patavium!” Rodelinda continued. “You should have seen him! He could not believe it!”
“But we thought you had died too!” Duke Alachis exclaimed. “Instead, you are an old fox! I know you! I want to know everything about it! But first you must eat and rest!”
“I will get the fireplace started,” Rodelinda said.
“Yes, and get the maid to cook the poor man something! He must be starving!”
It was evening and already dark. The fireplace was the only source of light in the dark kitchen. Adalulf had changed out of his Cimbrian fur, and he had a wool blanket covering him while he sipped broth from a large bowl. Duke Alachis was sitting next to him holding a cup of wine, and Rodelinda was on the other side of the table observing the two old friends.
“You came at the right time, Adalulf! I really need your help these days…”
For the first time Duke Alachis was not really screaming, but he was talking at a normal decibel level. Adalulf thought that it was he needing the Duke’s help, in order to reclaim Patavium from Bertwalt, but he decided to listen to his old friend.
Venetians Page 27
