He grabbed my arm and pulled me back to face him, his face red with anger. “It isn’t for you to understand, only to submit. The matter is decided. It is pointless to discuss it further.”
“I’ll not support this!” It was the first time I had raised my voice to him, but I could not help it. Near breathless, I yanked my arm free and left the room without bothering to close the door in my wake.
Our first open discord wounded me. From the start, Heinrich had been considerate, denying me little. It was one thing to defend our land and people against enemy raids. It was quite another to enter into war against one’s king. To risk his life in this way was beyond my comprehension.
As the days passed, Heinrich prepared his army. I remained morose. My heart was in such an unresolved state, I indulged in prayer to seek a solution, or at the least, peace, for the tension between us was so heavy, we could not escape it. I could not dispel my anger; I resented his insatiable quest for power. He knew this, yet he remained steadfast in his decision. I avoided him, and when I could not evade his presence, I spoke little. When the day arrived for his departure, I was not there to send him off as I had done so many times before.
ON A LUMINOUS day, under the vigilance of a few guards, Sister Ricburg and I took the children beyond the fortress gates to spend the afternoon beneath the cool shade of the oaks and alders. We sat on a tapestry, baskets of food within our reach. The leaves filtered the most ardent rays of sunlight, bathing us in dappled light.
Otto, who would turn two in the autumn, toddled after a wooden ball Sister Ricburg rolled to him. Hedwiga sat on my lap as I sang a song and played a finger game with her. I tickled her and reveled in her glorious laughter. Worried it might awaken Gerberga, who slept in the large basket beside me, I glanced inside, but her cheeks were pink with the deep sleep of babyhood.
From the gates, two guards escorted a man towards us. Sweat beaded the brow of his tanned face as he dropped to one knee. “I am honored to bring you news of Duke Heinrich.” He held out a scroll.
I accepted it, motioning him to stand. “Are you to wait for my response?” I studied his face for a clue as to the content, but saw only neutrality.
“No, Domina.”
“I thank you for bringing this to me. Go with my men, who shall provide you with food and a place to rest.”
As the men walked away, I gawked at the parchment in my hands. My heart surged to my throat. My hands turned clammy and my belly ached with trepidation. Sister Ricburg watched me unfurl it. There was Heinrich’s seal, and then the familiar whorls and loops of his scribe’s script. I devoured the contents.
Sister Ricburg clutched a hand to her chest in anticipation.
“It is good news,” I said.
She expelled a pent-up breath and made the sign of the cross.
“King Conrad sent an army led by his brother, Eberhard. They met the Saxon and Swabian armies on the outskirts of Hohentweil. Heinrich fought valiantly. He predicted each maneuver the king planned before it occurred. The battle was over in less than a day and Heinrich triumphed. Count Erchanger was elected as Duke of Swabia.”
“And what of your husband?”
“He is duke over Thuringia, Saxony, Lotharingia, and perhaps Swabia and Bavaria. King Conrad’s seat in Franconia is all that remains out of his reach.”
I could not rejoice at the news, but was relieved Heinrich was safe, but it would take time before I could fully comprehend the implications.
IT WAS NOT a dream I conjured, but Heinrich, in the flesh.
He had flung open the door of my bedchamber and loomed before me, larger than life, newly returned from battle, the stench of war still upon him. He was unmoving, imposing.
From the mud on his boots to the mantle thrown back from his broad shoulders, every inch of his great stature was clad in mail. Disappointment clouded his features, for I had not been there to receive him. The sight of him unsettled me.
Anxious, I coiled my fists at my sides. I wanted to speak, but no words came. I stared in disbelief as he advanced into the room.
When I realized he was unharmed, my limbs trembled with a mixture of relief and fear—relief because he was safe, and fear for the retaliation King Conrad was certain to impose against him.
“You look well, Matilde.”
“As do you, husband.”
A strained awkwardness hovered in the air between us.
“I’ve missed you.” His familiar voice, strong and clear, shook me.
“I prayed for your safe return day and night.”
“Matilde.” His exhaled exclamation betrayed his longing for me as he halted but a step from me. “I regret my anger before I departed. It was not my intent to stir up your anguish. A man must stand courageous before his enemies and fight for what is just. I had little choice; I could not deny assistance to an ally. I stand victorious before you. Your worry was for nothing.”
“For nothing? We risked losing everything!”
“But I did not lose. I won, and I am unwounded.”
“I am glad you are well, but my concern is rarely for naught. I am afraid of what will happen next. Your soul is in jeopardy. Too much blood stains your sword.”
“If I am to be judged by the amount of blood I have shed in my life, my soul was long past saving, even before we met. Let us bury our dispute. The worst is over. I prefer to spend the next few hours in the warmth of your company. Wouldn’t you like the same?”
I despaired of the animosity between us, but I had suffered in his absence and I needed time to find my peace.
He did not wait for my answer. “I’ve brought you a gift. I meant to give it to you before I left, but the opportunity did not arise.”
Guilty thoughts flashed through my mind. When a man departed for war, it might be the last time a wife would see him alive. Regardless of my anger, I should have wished him a decent farewell. “From this day forward, I’ll not allow you to march off to war with heated words between us.”
From a pouch hanging on a rope inside his mantle, Heinrich removed a brooch.
I admired the large sapphire in the center of a delicate circle of pearls. About to pin it on me, I stopped him. “No, you must keep the brooch for yourself. When you feel it against your heartbeat remember me and the sorrow of our last parting.”
Heinrich kissed me, short and tentative.
I nudged him away playfully. “You need a bath.”
We had reached a truce, but not all was forgiven between us. That would take time.
Chapter Seven
A.D. 916
Quedlinburg
AT THE EVENING feast, the Bishop of Erfurt, cheeks ruddy from the cold wind, hurried into the Great Hall followed by Brother Rufus. I remembered the bishop from my stay at the abbey of Sankt Marien. Revered for his strong ethics and generous spirit, my grandmother had trusted him. I knew Heinrich felt the same way.
When he halted before us I gave him my warmest greeting. He returned a half-hearted smile. His somber face forewarned something was amiss. A portly man of average height with short-cropped gray hair, the Bishop glanced at Heinrich from beneath hairy eyebrows. “May we speak in private?” His tone held a sense of urgency.
Heinrich ordered the hall cleared. Heads turned in surprise, but after grumbling and commotion, servants and vassals filed from the room.
“I’ll be nearby should you have need of me.” Brother Rufus bowed and strode to the doors, where he waited for the last person to leave before closing the doors behind him.
Heinrich eyed the rotund bishop. “Come and sit, Bishop. What news do you bring?”
The bishop climbed the dais and sat next to Heinrich. “King Conrad captured Erchanger of Swabia. He sentenced him to death at a high court in Hohentweil for raising arms against him. He is imprisoned in a monastery awaiting execution.”
The shock hit me full force. Not long ago, Erchanger had sat in this very room seeking my husband’s help. Nausea swirled in my gut. It could have been Heinrich.
/> Heinrich’s face turned crimson.
“Your life is in danger. I have recently returned from a gathering of bishops, priests, abbots, and a legate from the pope in Hohentweil. You, too, have been charged.”
I gripped the edge of the table.
“Charged.” Heinrich spoke the word as if it was poison on his lips. Disgust and rage hardened his features.
The bishop nodded. “Yes, my lord. I, alone, voted against it. The bishops have stripped you of the Church’s blessing and they will no longer collect taxes on your behalf. The king sanctioned their decree.”
Heinrich slammed his fist on the table, spilling wine from our silver goblets. I jumped to my feet to avoid the wine from staining my garments.
The bishop did not react. “I rode without rest from Hohentweil to bring you this warning. You must flee to sanctuary. They mean to capture then execute you.”
I wiped away the spilled wine and resumed my seat. Fear lay like ice in my stomach.
“God shrivel Conrad’s soul if he dares rise against me.” Heinrich rose to his feet and paced.
“I offer you sanctuary in any monastery in my bishopric and the abbey of Sankt Marien is ready to receive your wife and children.”
Heinrich gritted his teeth as he contemplated the offer.
The abbey of Sankt Marien in Erfurt, with its high walls, was the one place where I had felt safe. It was the location of the bishop’s army. It was indeed the safest place for the children and me. My worst fears had come to fruition.
Heinrich summoned Brother Rufus, who rushed back into the room and came to a stop at the bishop’s side.
“Summon Franco and have him gather my war council. Then arrange for no less than two hundred men-at-arms to escort my wife and children to Erfurt this night.”
“And you, husband?” My voice cracked.
“I’ll set off from here and meet any army who dares tread on Saxon soil. I fear no one, for I have more men-at-arms and wealth at my disposal than Conrad ever will. Let him and the bishops waste their time with meagre posturing. It will come to nothing.”
“I’ll not go without you. The children and I shall remain here.”
“No,” Heinrich sputtered, bristling with indignation.
“My place is at your side.”
“Your place is with our children. You have to protect Otto. Conrad would not hesitate to use you or the children against me. I must be certain you are safe.”
A mixture of defiance and anger simmered within me, but I kept myself from arguing in the bishop’s presence. Besides, in my heart, I knew my husband was right. Conrad was a king desperate to keep his crown. No one could predict what he might do to preserve his tenuous title.
Heinrich studied Brother Rufus. “What are you waiting for?” His tone was harsh and full of ire. “Do what I asked of you.”
Brother Rufus’ face reddened and he bolted from the room.
Within moments, servants hurried about to pack clothing, food, and supplies. Beleaguered by the realization I could not reason with my husband, I returned to my chamber while Heinrich remained in the Great Hall with the bishop to meet with his men-at-arms. The Church had sided with the king and had turned against my husband. The thought tore at me as dread filled me. The world, as I had experienced it, was gone, shattered by constant strife for power. In my alarm, I stirred everyone into action in preparation for our flight, sending frenzied servants scurrying in all directions.
Darkness fell, but everything was ready. Sister Ricburg and a retinue of servants followed me into the torch-lit bailey. I made my way to the waiting wagons and horse litters. Time may have soothed my initial fear, but a heavy uneasiness pressed me. I knew it would remain so with each moment my husband and I were apart. Apprehension for Heinrich’s life, for all our lives, gnawed at the pit of my stomach. With the bishops supporting Conrad, their power rivaled that of Heinrich’s. If they had so easily captured and charged Erchanger, the same could happen to Heinrich.
Beneath a still night sky, Heinrich lingered in the center of the bailey giving final instructions to Franco and the men-at-arms who would escort us to Erfurt. Heinrich patted Franco on the back and came toward me.
In the chilled air, servants carried my children into awaiting horse litters. Wrapped in thick blankets, six-year-old Hedwiga, four-year-old Otto, and three-year-old Gerberga slept peacefully, oblivious to the jostling. Sister Ricburg and a handful of servants followed them into various conveyances piled high with food, candles, and clothing.
Heinrich held my hands. “Franco will escort you to Erfurt. If you have need of anything, tell him, and he will send one of the men to me. They will remain in Erfurt to keep watch over the abbey. No harm will come to you.”
With his thumb, he swept away a lock of hair that had escaped from my veil. “Be at ease, Matilde. Conrad is no match for me. My troops will go at once to the Saxon borders. I have sent messengers to all corners of the duchy to summon men-at-arms. I have already drafted and sent a missive of official rebuke to Conrad and each of the bishops demanding they rescind the judgment and cease any further acts of hostility. I cannot predict what will happen, but I vow I’ll send for you when it is safe.”
Wordless, I glanced around. Servants and men-at-arms waited.
“You must go.” Heinrich cupped my face in his hands, his expression tender. He pulled me into his embrace and kissed me. Within me, worry and ire raged against love for my husband.
Men-at-arms shouted their approval. Our long kiss ended and Heinrich silenced them with a stern glance. Then he grinned. The men’s postures relaxed, but they turned away to allow us privacy in these last moments together. Heinrich faced me again and touched my lips with his roughened fingers.
“Are you well?”
“Yes,” I managed to say, despite my simmering anger.
He scowled. “You are certain?”
Fury and frustration choked me. “End this strife,” I blurted. “I cannot abide the fighting much longer.”
He said nothing as he helped me inside my horse litter and kept hold of my hand. I struggled to keep myself from yanking it from his grasp, stunned by Heinrich’s fearless self-assurance. The political troubles of previous years had exhausted me. I craved peace instead of constant disruption. Heinrich had always made me feel safe and cared for. No matter the troubles that had vexed us, he emerged unscathed. It was my nature to worry, but in the end, it was always for nothing. I prayed it would be so once more.
Heinrich released my hand. With a gesture and a holler to raise the portcullis, he stepped back and we rode away from him under the cover of night.
Abbey of Sankt Marien
Erfurt
WHILE IN SANCTUARY, I occupied myself with the children, and disbursing supplies to accommodate my large retinue. It kept me from worrying every moment of the day. The Bishop of Erfurt came daily with news. Through him, I learned the bishops’ actions against Erchanger had enraged the new duke’s brother Berthold, and his nephew, Arnulf of Bavaria who retaliated with swift brutality. They gathered what remained of their depleted forces and attacked one bishopric at a time. When they finished, most of the bishops, those who had voted for the penalty levied against Erchanger, lay dead. Of Heinrich, the Bishop of Erfurt knew nothing. Nothing could ease the fear sprouting like a weed in the depths of my heart.
Chapter Eight
A.D. 917
Abbey of Sankt Marien
Erfurt
LIFE IN THE abbey was uneventful. I performed my duties as duchess by rote. I yearned for news, but almost a year had passed without a message. With each passing day, my worries increased, constant uncertainty became my permanent shadow. Then one day, my wait ended.
On a peaceful evening when the sun hung low in a rose-colored sky, a messenger arrived to herald Heinrich’s imminent arrival. Breathless, I raced to the abbey gates and peered down the road. All was still, not a trill from a bird, or a breeze rustled the leaves of the trees. I waited for an eternity. Then from behin
d a small crest rose a standard—our family crest, and the rider who carried it. I grabbed my skirts and ran forth.
Then I saw him. Heinrich rode at the front of his entourage; his men in two lines behind him, followed by wagons piled high with supplies. From where I paused, alone in the middle of the road, I could see his golden hair agleam in the gentle twilight. I heard him shout and canter forth when he spotted me. He leaped off his horse, into my waiting arms. Months of tension culminated in a flood of tears born from respite, elation, and a muddle of other sentiments I could no longer keep at bay. He held me tight as I wept. When my sobs diminished, I pulled away to study him. Glorious as ever, he was clad in a dark green over-tunic, his cheeks kissed by the sun, his grin as wide as his chest.
“I am here, Matilde.”
“Heinrich,” I blubbered.
“How beautiful you are. I have missed you.”
“And I, you. Is everything well?” I held my breath for the answer.
“The conflict with Conrad is over. There is no more cause for worry. We will speak of the details later. First, tell me about the children.”
“They are asleep, but in the morning, they will be eager to reunite with their father.”
We entered the abbey. Beneath the tawny glow of dusk, our world became a safe haven again, united once more under one roof.
AFTER THE EVENING meal in the Refectory, Heinrich and I strolled hand in hand around the cloister. We sat on a stone bench beneath a great oak. The occasional trill of a bird disturbed the silence. In a soft-spoken voice, he revealed what had transpired since we parted.
“The king chased after Erchanger’s brother Berthold and nephew Arnulf of Bavaria. Arnulf escaped, but Berthold did not. Conrad hanged the two brothers in Hohtentweil.”
I expelled a gasp. Heinrich had done much to convince me of the weakness of Conrad’s forces. Had he underestimated the extent of Conrad’s reach? Or, had he understated the extent of the danger he was in? It would be typical of him.
The Prophetic Queen (Women's Biographical Historical Fiction): The Tumultuous Life of Matilde of Ringelheim Page 14
