by Speer, Flora
Danise stepped into the open space before the dais and began to speak.
“I thank you for your concern for me,” she said to Charles. “I am not at all nervous, for what I have to say is but the truth. However, I am angry, for my father was greatly worried by my abduction, and his friends and mine were put to immense effort to find and rescue me. Most of all, I am outraged that these two men seated here before you should have plotted treason against so fine a king.
“It was on the morning of the hunt that Clodion forced me to the side of the field and took my horse’s reins from me. Clodion believed, and rightly, that those near to us would be so occupied with following the hunt that they would not notice what he was doing.” She went on to recount everything she had seen and heard, including the plot Autichar had revealed to her, the plan to draw Charles into battle with Duke Tassilo after making certain that he would have to divide the Frankish army in two in order to fend off a prearranged Saxon uprising. She ended with the tale of her escape from Autichar and how Michel, Redmond, and Guntram had found her, rescued her from her pursuers, and then had done battle with Autichar and his men.
“Of the battle itself I will let Redmond and his companions tell you, since I was not there to see it,” Danise said. “I have no word to say in defense of either of the accused men, save that Autichar did prevent Clodion from taking me into the forest and raping me on that first night. He and Clodion quarreled about it. I am grateful to Autichar for that one act of kindness.”
“Danise,” said Charles when she fell silent, “I would hear the confirmation of this scheme from your own lips once more and have everyone else present hear it also. Autichar did tell you that his private army was camped near the Rhine, awaiting his arrival there? And that this army would be among those placed at my cousin Tassilo’s disposal when the time came to fight against me and my men?”
“That is so,” Danise replied.
“Again, I must applaud your courage during this ordeal,” Charles said, “and your wit in talking Autichar into revealing his scheme.”
“It was not entirely his own plan,” Danise said. “Clodion claimed credit for devising part of it, including the way in which he would be found. And Autichar was very ready to boast of how easily he would destroy your Frankish warriors.” This statement drew a murmur from those same Fankish warriors that boded no good for Autichar’s future.
“I may want to ask you more questions later,” Charles said to Danise. “For now, you may join Hildegarde on the dais.”
Charles next called Savarec to tell how he had been tricked into leaving the hunt so he could not see Clodion taking Danise away. Guntram followed, to give his view of Savarec’s story. Then Michel and Redmond each spoke. Several other men who had taken part in the search for Danise and in the battle with Autichar also gave their evidence.
“I do thank you all,” Charles said. “Has anyone else aught to say against these men or Lady Ingeborg in this matter before I give the accused leave to defend themselves?”
Again there were a few angry murmurs and fierce looks cast at Clodion and Autichar, but no one else came forward.
“Very well,” Charles went on. “Lady Ingeborg, since the charge against you is of lesser importance, I will have you speak for yourself first.”
Lady Ingeborg rose from her stool and stepped forward. On this day she was clothed in a loose gown of dark blue. She wore no jewelry, her face was unpainted, and her hair was gathered into a simple knot atop her head. She looked frightened as she took her position before Charles.
“I do swear to you, Charles, that I did not know of Clodion’s connection with Autichar,” Lady Ingeborg declared. “Had I known of it, I would have gone to you at once and told you of it. Clodion led me to believe that he and Danise wished to spend a day alone, without interference from Savarec or Sister Gertrude. That is why I invited Savarec to my tent at Clodion’s suggestion. As to putting sleeping herbs in Savarec’s wine,I did not wish to lie with him, but only to keep him occupied for a time, as a favor to my old friend Clodion. It appears now that Clodion was not my true friend. He tricked me, as he has apparently tricked everyone else he knew.” Sniffling and dabbing at her eyes, Lady Ingeborg stepped aside at Charles’s command and resumed her place on the stool set next to Sister Gertrude. The nun regarded her with an expression that plainly said she did not believe a word of Lady Ingeborg’s story.
“Clodion,” Charles invited, “have you anything to say in your defense?”
“It is all lies,” Clodion declared, standing and strutting boldly forward, “a scheme concocted by that foolish girl, Danise. She agreed to spend a day with me while I courted her, for we could find no time when we were not interrupted by Count Redmond or that foreign scoundrel, Michel. How can a man convince a girl to marry him when he cannot have two words alone with her? Perhaps something I said in the forest offended Danise. You know how skittish girls can be. I do not know her reasoning, but Danise changed her mind, said she would never marry me, and then, after we were captured by Autichar, she devised this scandalous tale linking me to that criminal. For all I know, Danise is in league with Autichar to bring me down and ruin my reputation. You will remember, Charles, that Autichar was one of her original suitors. Perhaps she had favored him all along without my knowing it.”
“This is an amazing tale you tell.” Charles’s voice was silky smooth. “And you yourself laid no scheme against me?”
“I have been your loyal servant during the eleven years of your reign,”Clodion answered. “Before that, I was your father Pepin’s friend as well.”
“I do not forget it,” Charles said. “You may sit down, Clodion. Autichar, what have you to tell us?”
“Unlike these other cowards, Ingeborg and Clodion,” Autichar announced, rising in his turn and taking his place before Charles, “I will not place the blame on anyone else, nor claim a mere girl has misled me. The scheme was mine in its origin. Save for one or two minor details conceived by Clodion, the plan was all my doing.”
“I am glad to hear that you don’t deny it,” Charles said, admiration for Autichar’s courage creeping into his voice, though Danise could tell he was very angry.
“Why should I deny it? I am proud of it,” Autichar responded. “I do admit it was foolish of me to reveal so much of the plan to Danise. Boasting was ever a fault of mine. Still, I believed at the time that she would not live to tell what she knew. I misjudged her. She was, and is, braver and more resourceful than I realized.”
“Then you have nothing to say in your own defense?” Charles prompted.
“What I did, I did because I was angry with you for sending me away from Duren,” Autichar said. “You wounded my pride, Charles. But my first loyalty is always to Duke Tassilo, whose pride you have also tried to humble.”
“I do wonder,” mused Charles, “just how much of this scheme was made known to Tassilo?”
“He knew enough of it,” cried Clodion from where he sat, “to offer me a Bavarian heiress for a bride as reward for my part in it.” At these impetuous words, Charles looked toward Clodion and seemed to be repressing a smile. Clodion did not appear to notice that he had just betrayed himself.
“I remind you, Count Clodion,” said Alcuin from his place behind Charles’s chair, “that you have had your time to speak. You may not interrupt now.”
“Autichar,” asked Charles, “have you anything more to say?”
“Only to thank Danise for her words of appreciation to me,” Autichar said, looking at her. “Girl, I am glad I did not let Clodion have you. You deserve a better man than he is. My only regret regarding you is that you did not choose me as your husband. I would have greatly enjoyed getting sons on so brave a woman.
“For the rest, Charles, I make no defense of what I did. None is necessary. I did what I felt was needed to show you that a nobleman cannot be treated as you treated me.” Autichar’s red hair blazed in the sunlight as he proudly raised his chin and looked challengingly at Charles.
“I do remember,” Charles said mildly, “that the decision to leave this Mayfield was yours. You were not sent away.”
Autichar made no answer to that. Charles signaled to him to take his seat again.
The king of the Franks sat for a few minutes, chin in hand, considering all he had heard, both before and during that morning. Then he beckoned to Alcuin, and when the cleric bent his head to his king, the two conferred. Alcuin nodded once or twice at something Charles said. A smile crossed Charles’s face and faded away. Charles lifted a finger and Duke Bernard leaned down on his other side to answer a question.
Meanwhile, the Franks waited to hear their king’s judgment. Some of the men talked among themselves, expressing their anger that anyone would defy Charles as Autichar had done. Others voiced concern that their own daughters might be treated as Clodion had treated Danise if he were not severely punished as an example.
“These are my decisions,” Charles announced in a loud voice, and all fell silent to hear him.
“First,” Charles said, “I make Count Redmond my deputy to Autichar’s army which, as I understand the case, is still encamped near the Rhine awaiting Autichar’s arrival. Redmond, you are to disperse that army. The men belonging to it may freely return to Bavaria if they wish. If so, you will escort them to the border, making certain they arrive there without injury to themselves or to any Franks they meet along their way. Some of the men may not be Bavarians, and they are welcome to come to me and place themselves under my direct command.
“Secondly, I will put a stop here and now to the raising of private armies, whose purpose is not to make the Franks stronger, but to increase the power of the owners of those armies. Henceforth, no nobleman may maintain a fighting force larger than the number of men he is required to send to me for my use in time of war. Write it down, Adelbert. This is a new law. Every nobleman in Francia is to receive a formal notice of it within a week.
“Autichar,” Charles went on, “it seems to me that you are the person most at fault in all these plottings, for you intended to use your army against your chosen king. For that disloyalty, the lands you hold in Francia that caused you to divide your interests between Tassilo and me are forfeited to the Frankish crown.
“You dangled a captive Danise before me and my friends, hoping thus to lure us to our deaths for her sake. But we are wise fish and will not take the bait. I will send no army against my cousin Tassilo. What I will do is send you, Autichar, in chains and accompanied by an emissary from me who will tell the entire sorry tale to Tassilo. I believe my Uncle Bernard, who is also related to Tassilo, will be the perfect man to send. Uncle Bernard can assure Tassilo that I believe he had nothing to do with your schemes, and that Tassilo can prove his good faith by punishing you as you ought to be punished.”
There were loud cries of approval at this decision, though a few did voice their disappointment that Autichar was not to be publicly executed at once.
“Wonderful!” Redmond said to Michel. “What a joke on Tassilo, to lay upon him the burden of punishing his own man. Charles knows that Tassilo is not innocent in all of this, but he’s too wise to say so publicly and thus provoke the war Autichar and Tassilo wanted.”
“Listen,” Michel replied. “He’s about to pass judgment on Clodion.”
“Count Clodion,” Charles said, “you are hereby banished from my presence and stripped of all your titles and all your lands save for the smallest of your many estates, the land you hold west of Mainz, safely within Frankish borders. That one place I allow you to keep in recognition of your years of service to me and to my father. In it you are to live in the company of your current concubines and all of your children, who are also to be confined on that estate for as long as you live.”
“Hah!” exclaimed Guntram, openly delighted by this decision. “I’ve heard stories about some of Clodion’s brats. They are said to be much like their father. One or another of them will likely put herbs in the old man’s wine to send him permanently to sleep, just so the children can get free of living with him and his endless lust.”
“Lady Ingeborg,” said Charles, “you deserve a milder form of justice for your part in drugging Savarec. As you know, my mother is living in retirement at the convent at Prum. You will join her there, to live under her instruction for the rest of your life – and may it be a long and healthy life. I strongly suggest that you donate all the lands you inherited from your late husband to Prum, to assure your good treatment there.”
Now it was Michel’s turn to laugh. He knew about Charles’s formidable mother, Queen Bertha, whom Charles had sent to live at Prum when she tried once too often to dominate him. Lady Ingeborg would have no easy time living under Bertha’s rule.
“What think you of these rulings?” asked Redmond, half choked with laughter.
“I think the king of the Franks is a genius at punishing criminals while appearing to show mercy to them,” Michel answered. “He lets others do the real punishing for him. Savarec looks happy.”
“So he should,” Redmond said. “With everyone laughing at the punishments meted out to Clodion and Lady Ingeborg, Savarec does not look as foolish as he otherwise might.”
“There is still more business to be attended to this day,” Charles said, raising a hand to quiet the laughing, cheering Franks. “I must now decide what to do with the lands that until an hour ago belonged to Clodion and Autichar. Redmond, come forward. I give to you Autichar’s former Frankish lands. Guard them well.”
“For this gift I thank you.” Redmond went down on his knees, placed his hands between Charles’s and swore an oath of loyalty to his king for these new lands.
“Guntram,” said Charles, “you also deserve a reward. One of Clodion’s former estates is near to Savarec’s lands just east of the Rhine. Its location will make it possible for you to continue your valuable service to Savarec, and to me, at Deutz. This land I give to you.” He named the estate and Guntram went forward to fall on his knees and speak his oath. Guntram’s fierce, black-bearded face shone with joy and pride. Michel saw Danise wiping away a happy tear as she watched her father’s loyal man being so handsomely rewarded.
Charles then made several other awards, disposing of Clodion’s lands to men who had helped in the search for Danise or who had performed valiantly in the battle with Autichar. A few of those men had been wounded, but none seriously. Only one had to be helped forward by a friend.
“Savarec,” said Charles, “I’ll add to your holdings a piece of land west of the Rhine, in recompense for what you have suffered over the abduction of your daughter, and in case you occasionally wish for a rest from dealing with Saxons.”
“Now there is but one portion of Clodion’s lands left, the estate of Elhein,” Charles went on after Savarec had made his formal oath for his new lands. “Michel, come here. You came to Duren a stranger, with no memory of your past. In only a few weeks you have proven your worth to us. In reward for your service to me and to Savarec, I give you this land that once was Clodion’s.”
“Sir, I thank you,” Michel responded. “But I cannot accept the gift.”
The entire company fell instantly silent. No one had ever before refused a gift offered by a king. Michel knew he was taking a risk, because what he said might so insult Charles that the king would not forgive him. It was a chance Michel had to take. He had a greater prize by far in mind.
“There is only one reward I want,” he said to Charles. “The sweetest gift in all the world. I would have the hand of the lady Danise in marriage. I love her as you love Hildegarde. I cannot be happy with any other woman.”
Now people gasped, and whispered to each other. Michel’s attention was on Charles, and on Hildegarde, who had not spoken during all the long proceedings, though she had listened with open sympathy while Danise told her story of abduction and fear. Michel saw Hildegarde look from him to Danise. He saw the queen lean toward Charles and whisper something. Charles’s eyes began to sparkle. He smiled and nodd
ed at Hildegarde’s comments, and Michel knew he had not misjudged the royal couple.
“If you would have a wife,” Charles said to Michel, “then you will need to provide a home for her. Therefore, I will link lady and lands together. Win Danise, and you also win the rich estate of Elhein. What say you to that?”
“I thank you for your generosity,” Michel said, “and for your understanding.”
“I know what it is to love well and truly,” Charles said. “Savarec, have you any objection to this arrangement?”
“Michel has no title,” Savarec said, stepping forward, “and I hoped once to wed my daughter to a count. Nor do we know aught of Michel’s family. Still, Sister Gertrude has pointed out to me many times that Clodion and Autichar were not good choices as sons-in-law, though I knew all about their ancestors and both of them were counts.
“Charles, I have learned a valuable lesson from these last few days. I have been too easily dazzled by a man’s earthly possessions and by high-sounding titles. The worth of a man ought to be judged by other standards.”
“Then you have learned wisdom,” said Charles.
“You are too harsh with yourself, Savarec,” Michel told him. “In spite of my lack of name, title, or wealth, you have always been a friend to me.”
“By your recent actions, Michel, you have proven your loyalty to Charles, and to me, and your devotion to Danise. I cannot in friendship refuse what you ask, nor do I want to refuse you. However, when we first came to Duren I gave the choice of her husband to Danise,” Savarec now reminded them. “She must decide, not I.”
“Danise.” Michel looked at her, seeing love and hope in her eyes. “I did not plan to ask you before so many witnesses, but will you marry me?”
“Yes,” Danise cried. “Oh, yes. I never want to be parted from you. Michel, I am so proud of you, and so happy.” With that, she fairly flew off the dais and into his arms. The assembled Franks cheered her on and Hildegarde burst into delighted laughter.
