“How is Adalulf?” Polo asked. “The Longobard hero! I was so glad to hear he survived… But especially, I think he owes part of his glory to me… After all, it was thanks to me that he had the opportunity to defeat Grimwald.”
“Polo, shut up…” Hermetruda responded with no patience for Polo’s humor.
Polo sat down in front of Hermetruda. Perhaps his sarcasm went too far. Hermetruda had suffered tremendously without her husband and she had feared the worst for several months. Now Polo was more serious.
“I am sorry, Hermetruda,” Polo continued. “What kind of message do you have from Adalulf?”
Hermetruda went straight to the point, as she was not the type to dance around an issue, especially one that was so important.
“Adalulf is offering free trade through the Brint River, plus…”
“There is a plus? I already love it,” Polo interrupted. “Currently, to receive Cimbrian wood, we have to pay duties to the Duke of Ceneda to use the Piave River! We would love to go back and use the Brint River. It’s more direct…”
“In addition…” Hermetruda continued. “In addition, Adalulf is offering fifty Bavarian prisoners.”
Polo went quiet. ‘That is a huge offer!’ Polo thought. ‘How do I keep a straight face?’
“Fifty prisoners… Are they blond?” Polo asked.
“I haven’t seen them, but they are Bavarians… perhaps they are not all blond, but I am sure many of them…”
“What do you mean you haven’t seen them? Is this a joke?” An incredulous Polo asked. “Or is this a trap? Ha, it’s a trap! I knew it! Old Lulfy! He’s an old fox!”
Polo was laughing at Hermetruda, studying her expressions, trying to notice any small facial movement that might give something away. He was just being a merchant trying to understand the opposite side to get the best deal, or to avoid unnecessary risks. Hermetruda did not flinch: she did not smile and she did not frown. She was tired. Her husband was finally back and he was safe. Now she wanted her family reunited once and for all.
“I haven’t seen them because Duke Alachis still has them,” Hermetruda explained. “But Adalulf already left for Brixia to go get them. There are no tricks. Adalulf wants Aldo back in exchange. It’s as simple as that.”
“I already imagined Aldo was on the other side of the deal, but… but Aldo is not for sale, you know!” Polo replied.
Polo was acting like Primo, he was mimicking his brother to give the impression that he cared. In reality, Polo was just grateful that he did not sell Aldo for forty-five solidi. He could get fifty slaves instead, which was worth much more! ‘Twenty solidi per slave… That made a total of… Where is Sabino when I need him…’ Polo thought. Anyway, it was a lot more.
“What do you mean!?” Hermetruda asked. “Adalulf cannot be more generous than that!”
“No, no, no! That’s not what I meant,” Polo immediately corrected. “What I mean is that of course, of course Adalulf will be able to be reunited with Aldo. What I meant is that Aldo is not merchandise to sell! I merely kept him as insurance so that Adalulf would not come back and slit my throat!”
“Good! So it’s done!”
“Wait! I am having a hard time believing this because Adalulf’s offer is too generous!” Polo explained. “Hermetruda… you lived among us, we don’t keep any secrets here in the lagoon… you know how much I can make for each one of those Bavarian prisoners… Didn’t you tell Adalulf how much he is offering me?”
“Actually, I did not,” Hermetruda replied. “All he knows is that they are worthless to Duke Alachis, and he figured that they would be worth something to you, and he wants to see his son again.”
“Why didn’t you tell him?” Polo enquired.
Polo was still a bit suspicious. He knew Hermetruda and Adalulf were very close and he found it hard to believe that they would not communicate every single intimate detail to one another.
“Because I don’t want to risk it!” Hermetruda replied. “I don’t want him to offer you less, and then the two of you would start to haggle back and forth. I don’t want to go up and down the Brint River to visit my husband and my son! I want it to be over right away! I want Aldo back with his father!”
“Fine, fine… I believe you. It’s a done deal,” Polo answered. “I will personally go to Patavium when Adalulf returns with the prisoners. We will bring Aldo with us, and I will make a personal offer to Adalulf to reciprocate his generosity.”
“What offer?” Hermetruda was suspicious.
“Nothing to do with Aldo!” Polo replied. “Consider Aldo already back with Adalulf! This is a new offer, but I won’t discuss it any further until Patavium…”
Polo looked over at Marcello and smirked. Marcello smiled back because he understood what Polo had in mind. The food was finally ready and they commenced to dine.
Winter was getting colder and whiter, and that would usually bring everything to a halt. Instead, Adalulf was defying the inclement weather by advancing against the cold snowy wind on his way to Brixia. Adalulf and the company of soldiers escorting him had already passed Lake Gard, and as they were marching westward in the deep snow they finally spotted Brixia. Adalulf was determined to secure the Bavarian prisoners to exchange for Aldo. He could not wait until spring to see his only remaining son. He longed to be next to him and watch him grow up. He did not spend much time with his four older sons as he was always busy, and he regretted it. Now he wanted to spend as much time as possible with Aldo, and misfortunes had deprived Adalulf of his surviving son for two years. He almost died in battle twice, and Aldo was taken on a long and dangerous voyage. Now that they have been both lucky enough to survive, he did not want to take any more chances. Anything could happen in the lagoon, so he decided to venture to Brixia even though it was the coldest month of the year.
Adalulf’s main sacrifice in deciding to venture to Brixia with the wintery climate was leaving the hot springs of Aponus. His leg had been painfully bothering him the whole way. The icy humid climate pierced through his femur. Adalulf had finally arrived in the town of Brixia, and he entered a hall where Duke Alachis was waiting by a fireplace.
“My old friend!” Duke Alachis greeted Adalulf. “Until last spring I had not seen you for two decades, and now you even come to visit me in the middle of this cold winter!”
“I did not realize how much I missed you and Rodelinda!” Adalulf replied, as if this was only a pleasure trip. “Next time, when it’s warmer, I will bring Hermetruda with me…”
“I don’t know if there will be a next time, Wulf!” Duke Alachis stated. “Taking over Brixia meant taking over more responsibilities. We will be attacked this spring. That’s for sure! I am considering retreating to Tridentum where at least I am more protected…”
“Are you sure you will be attacked?” Adalulf asked.
“Yes, Wulf, yes… I have my informants. The enemy is preparing for war. It’s going to be a showdown. It’s either us Arians or them Catholics… but seriously, why have you come here in the middle of winter?”
“Remember the fifty Bavarian prisoners I asked you not to kill?” Adalulf reminded Duke Alachis.
“Yes…”
“Are they still alive?”
Duke Alachis burst out laughing. He left his spot beside the fireplace and walked toward Adalulf, putting his arm around him.
“Of course they are still alive! I kept them for you… Do you know how much it costs to feed fifty men? And how much manpower I am utilizing to keep them imprisoned?”
“Thank you, Alachis, I will make it up to you…” Adalulf gratefully acknowledged Duke Alachis’ generosity.
“But tell me, Wulf, what are you going to do with them? Sell them?”
“No… I am using them to pay a ransom and get my son Trasoald back…”
Adalulf had not called Aldo by his full name since that day he first se
t foot in the lagoon, to escape Grimwald. But in front of a traditionalist like Duke Alachis, he spontaneously called his son by his given name.
“I thought all your sons had died in battle…” Duke Alachis asked.
“This is the little one. He is the last one I have…”
Duke Alachis paced around. He now understood Adalulf better. Not that he was planning to do otherwise, but he imagined that Adalulf had some commercial gains in mind.
“I brought the prisoners to Brixia with me,” Duke Alachis continued, “so whenever you need to turn around, they are yours to take. Just make sure they will survive the trek with this cold weather…”
“Thank you, Alachis…”
“I only want one thing in return…” Duke Alachis asked.
“Of course,” Adalulf reassured his old friend.
“I will be defeated if I fight alone this spring, but if I have your backing and the support of the eastern dukes, we will be victorious, once and for all. This is a turning point, Wulf! I mean it…”
“You can count on me, Alachis. I know how fundamental this battle is going to be. I will make sure to rally the Duke of Vicetia and the Duke of Tarvisium for sure. They are my neighbors. With regards to the other dukes, I will do what I can.”
“Even if only you come with your men that might be enough, and that is all I ask: loyalty,” Duke Alachis remarked. “Loyalty in a crucial moment of need.”
Adalulf indeed had enough manpower to support Duke Alachis. In Patavium he managed to reorganize a substantial number of Longobard warriors. Some were part of his original regiment that had remained in Patavium when Adalulf fled to the lagoon. Some were part of Grimwald’s army that decided to remain in Patavium when Bertwalt returned to Beneventum. There were also several young warriors. The surrounding land between Vicetia and Patavium was populated by rising Longobard villages, and those settlements supplied many young Longobard men of fighting age.
Adalulf looked Duke Alachis right in the eye and nodded to reassure of his loyalty. Deep inside, however, Adalulf was tired. He did not wish to fight another battle. Perhaps his leg was bothering him too much, but he mostly did not care about the cause anymore. This Arianism versus Catholicism, or Longobards versus Byzantines, he did not care anymore. His son Aldo was growing up among Catholic Latins under Byzantium. He was being corrupted, Duke Alachis would say, but Adalulf did not care. In fact, he might have actually liked it. It was a sign of the times. Duke Alachis and Adalulf were getting old, and the new generation was changing. The younger Longobards belonged to the land that they shared with the native population. They were becoming one and the same with the Latins, and customs were mixing in forming a new culture and a new ethnicity that did not have as much to do with the Germanic roots from the north. He admired Duke Alachis for his purity and for his staunch defense of Longobard traditions. They were just not Adalulf’s ideals anymore, and he did not want to break Duke Alachis’ trust by telling him.
Chapter 27
NAVAL BATTLE
Primo’s ship was approaching Constantinople, and as it entered the city’s port Father Leontio was commenting on the results of his teaching:
“Well, Primo… I tried for a whole month, but it seems like you really cannot learn Greek!”
“I learned some…”
“Yes, but Polo learned much faster when I first met him here in Constantinople, I guess ten years ago already!”
“Polo always had an interest in languages, that’s true…” Primo commented.
“At least you are much better at learning mathematics… Polo was a disaster at that!” Father Leontio consoled Primo.
Primo laughed at the thought of his younger brother’s deficiency in arithmetics. Polo’s lack of mathematical skills was offset by his inventiveness, and that was why Polo had engaged Sabino to join them. He needed an accountant and Primo found that amusing. Without Sabino providing quick calculations, Polo would definitely not have been as successful in trading.
“Listen Primo, you have learned enough to understand Greek, but let me do the talking. I will be a translator for you,” Father Leontio continued.
“Of course!”
“You see,” Father Leontio added, “my feeling is that over here in Constantinople, the Byzantines could not care less about an escalating rivalry between Ravenna and Rivo Alto. It’s just a nuisance, because Byzantium has much bigger problems. There are Arabs advancing from the south, and they appear to be allied with the Armenians to the east. There are Slavs pressing on Thessaloniki, and then the Bulgars pushing just north of here…”
“Yes, I understand…” Primo agreed.
“We won’t even mention the incident with Ravenna,” Father Leontio continued. “We are here to present ourselves as the delegates of Duke Polo, who was a good friend of the late Emperor Constans II. We are a devout Duchy of the Empire, and if there is anything we can do to help, we will.”
“This way, if Ravenna ever complains,” Primo added, “Byzantium cannot see us just as pirates, and the Emperor will try to resolve the matter quickly as he often settles rivalries between his vassals.”
“Exactly!”
Father Leontio was entering the same imperial hall that he entered a few years back with Polo. This time Primo accompanied him, and instead of meeting Emperor Constans II, Father Leontio was meeting his son, Emperor Constantinos IV. The new Emperor was in his mid-thirties, and right next to him stood his teenage son, Justinian II. As the aide was ushering Father Leontio and Primo toward the throne on the left side of the hall, Emperor Constantinos IV was focusing on a conversation he was engaged in with an advisor on the right side of the hall.
“So the Arabs have finally conceded that Byzantium will not fall!” The Emperor replied to his advisor. “That’s essentially how I interpret it!”
“Essentially yes, Your Highness,” the advisor confirmed. “They have sieged Constantinople five years in a row. And each winter they have returned to where they come from without making any significant gains against our fortified city.”
“So, what do they want? To save face?” The Emperor asked.
“Essentially yes, they basically want you to concede Lebanon.”
“But we already are not in a position to defend it…” the Emperor commented.
“Yes, but the Maronite Christians who live there have barricaded themselves in, and it is essentially a stalemate. The Arabs can crush them, but not without substantial losses on their part.”
“So if I officially concede Lebanon, I am essentially telling the Maronites to stand down…”
“Precisely, Your Highness.”
“How many people are we talking about?” The Emperor enquired.
“We are talking about twelve thousand Christian Maronites…”
“If that will help normalize matters with the Arabs, this is something we can do,” Emperor Constantinos IV decided. “However, they have to guarantee safe passage for all these Maronites. We have seen what they have been capable of doing to foes who stand down…”
“Yes, this would have to be part of the accord, Your Highness.”
“Another thing,” the Emperor added. “I do not want this to appear as if I am conceding Lebanon in exchange for Constantinople’s safety. We managed to repel them and we would continue to do so. There must be some monetary compensation in exchange for Lebanon.”
“What should I propose, Your Highness?”
“Let’s make it something symbolic, say that in exchange for Lebanon each year the Arabs must pay me… fifty horses… fifty slaves… and say, three thousand gold solidi. They are obviously getting the good end of the deal! I need to save face too…”
“I will deliver this proposition, Your Highness.”
While the advisor was backing away, Emperor Constantinos IV turned toward Father Leontio and Primo.
“Father Leontio! I remember
you! You were one of my father’s trusted advisors!”
“Indeed I was! I have been residing in Heraclia for the past few years, at the service of Duke Polo Licio Anafesto, Your Highness…”
“Yes, I remember you went with my father, when he left to fight the Longobards… I don’t blame him… I really believe he was mostly escaping the situation in Constantinople. The Arab threat was ten times worse!”
“So I hear, Your Highness…”
“And who do we have here?” The Emperor asked. “Who is this guest you bring with you?”
“This is Primo, Duke Polo’s elder brother. He is here as an official delegate for the Venetian Duchy, to express the complete devotion to Byzantium.”
“It is the utmost pleasure to meet you, my Emperor,” Primo said in reverence.
Primo had previously rehearsed this phrase to recite in Greek, and it came out well. The Emperor assumed Primo was fluent in Greek, perhaps with the pronunciation still a bit off.
“Well, I am glad to hear that,” the Emperor replied. “Tribune Stefanos had told me about the election of this new Duke. So does this mean that you are an autonomous Duchy, independent from the Exarch of Ravenna?”
“Well, the Exarch, of course is in charge of matters concerning Italy, Your Highness,” Father Leontio replied. “Our lagoon, comprising also the Patriarchate of Grado, is essentially on the Illyrian side of the Adriatic. We conduct our commerce down the Adriatic coast, so it makes sense that we are autonomous, as the Exarch is already busy with matters concerning the Pope and the Longobards…”
“But Istria is also on the Illyrian side,” The Emperor questioned, “and that’s obviously under Ravenna’s dominion…”
“Yes, of course… of course, Your Highness…” Father Leontio replied.
Father Leontio was smiling, but he was beginning to sweat. The Emperor had just dismantled Father Leontio’s reasoning in favor of Venetian autonomy from Ravenna with a simple observation. Father Leontio did not want to contradict Emperor Constantinos IV, but he also did not know what else to say.
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