Love Beyond Time

by Speer, Flora

  “Clothilde,” said Michel, “you have been taking lessons from Sister Gertrude in how to order people around.” After stealing another kiss from Danise, he went off to find Redmond.

  “I am so happy for both of you,” Clothilde said. “And, have you heard? Charles has given land to Guntram, too.”

  “I was there when he announced it,” Danise reminded her.

  While the two women were inside their tent preparing Danise for the ceremony, Sister Gertrude appeared. With pursed lips and a sour expression she surveyed Danise’s deep green silk gown and the gold jewelry that had once belonged to Danise’s mother. As custom required for this ceremony, Danise’s hair was left loose. Clothilde brushed it until it flowed in a pale silver-gold river over her shoulders and down her back almost to her knees. Danise’s eyes were wide, and whether from excitement or from the reflection of her gown, they appeared more green than gray.

  “Doesn’t she look lovely?” cried Clothilde. “Oh, I must hurry and put on my own best dress.”

  “Hummph,” said Sister Gertrude, frowning.

  “Can’t you be glad for me?” Danise begged. “You are still my friend and teacher. I do not love you less because I will marry Michel.”

  “Under the circumstances, it is probably best that you do wed him,” Sister Gertrude conceded. “I only hope your decision does not prove to be a mistake.”

  “I am sure it is not,” Ðanise said. “Dear Sister Gertrude, travel to Deutz with us.”

  “Of course I will,” the nun responded. “It is my duty to stay with you until you are married. After that, you won’t need me anymore.”

  “I will always need your friendship, and your love,” Danise said.

  “If ever you come to grief, if you need a refuge, you know you will find it at Chelles as you did once before. You will always be welcome there.”

  A chill touched Danise’s heart, making her fearful for a moment. She recovered quickly, telling herself it was only a memory from the previous unhappy year. Her grief was over now, and only happiness lay ahead.

  “Thank you for your kind words,” she said, daring to hug Sister Gertrude. “Certainly, I will visit you at Chelles, but it will be a time of joy, not of sorrow. Michel and I will carry each of our children to Chelles for your blessing. Clothilde, are you ready? I hear my father talking to Guntram. Hurry now, don’t make me late for my own betrothal.”

  * * *

  The late afternoon light was gold and green, the tree leaves glowing in clear, rain-washed air and bright sunshine. Beside the Frankish encampment the Rur flowed deep blue on its way to join the River Maas and then the Rhine.

  Hand-in-hand with her father, with Clothilde and Sister Gertrude behind her, Danise walked from Savarec’s tents to the dais that had been used earlier in the day for a less joyful purpose. As she stepped upon the dais she was met by Hildegarde and her ladies. Charles already stood upon the dais with his special chaplain and Alcuin. Just as Danise arrived, Michel also appeared. Redmond and Guntram were his companions.

  Danise caught her breath at the sight of the man she loved. The tunic lent to him by Redmond was of blue silk almost as brilliant as his eyes. She recognized the gilded leather belt he wore. It belonged to Savarec. She cared not that he came to her in borrowed finery. Michel had proven himself, he was a noble of Francia now, a friend of Charles and of many other nobles. Soon he would have his own tunics and belts and a sword forged for him alone.

  The happiness radiating from Danise on that afternoon did not depend upon promises of rich garments or accoutrements, nor upon rewards expected in the future. Her joy was born of love. She saw her own happiness reflected in Michel’s face. He took her hand and held it while Alcuin read out the betrothal contract. He held it still when Charles’s chaplain blessed their betrothal and urged them to keep themselves pure until they were properly wed.

  Since the contract Michel and Savarec had made was brief, the entire ceremony took only a few moments. Then Charles swept her into his bear hug of an embrace to wish her happiness and long life. Her father was next to kiss her, followed by Sister Gertrude, Clothilde, Redmond, and Guntram. A host of others crowded about Danise.

  “Am I never to be allowed to kiss her?” asked Michel, himself the recipient of many embraces, especially from the ladies.

  “Time enough for that, later,” Charles laughed, slapping him on the back. “You heard the chaplain, my friend.”

  But Michel took Danise by the shoulders and bestowed such a lengthy kiss on her ready lips that their friends began to laugh at them. The newly betrothed couple sat together at the feast that followed, secretly holding hands beneath the table.

  “It was a bit like a wedding ceremony,” Michel said, giving Danise a passionate look that made her grow so warm she feared she must be blushing. “The only thing I didn’t like was that line about keeping ourselves pure. After the other night, you and I are going to be together again as soon as possible.”

  “I wish it could be so, but do not imagine for a moment that Sister Gertrude or even Clothilde will allow me to be with you without a chaperon until we are truly and finally wed,” she informed him. “Nor my father, either.”

  The final feast at Duren was scarcely over before Michel’s friends led him away to a tent shared by several unmarried men, where they planned to continue their private celebrations. Even Savarec and Guntram went with them.

  “You see,” noted Sister Gertrude, openly annoved, “this is the wav of men. At heart they care little for women.”

  “Not true,” cried Hildegarde. “They are but saying farewell to each other in their own way. Charles will join them in a little while. Let Michel go, Danise, and don’t be jealous of the friends he has made. Michel will not see most of them again until next Mayfield, and soon he will be entirely yours.”

  By the look on Sister Gertrude’s face, Danise knew she was not pacified by the queen’s comments. However, there was little time left for discussion of the matter. Charles had announced that he intended to be gone from Duren at dawn, which meant the women would have to make haste to say their own farewells. Danise embraced Hildegarde with some misgiving. The queen did not look well enough to make even the short journey to Aachen, but she would not admit to ill health. For Hildegarde, her place must always be at her husband’s side, and she would not complain that Charles wanted her there.

  “Charles has decided that after the autumn hunting season is over we will move to Worms for the winter,” Hildegarde said to Danise. “Savarec has been summoned to the winter council meeting there. If you and Michel would like to travel with him, you would be most welcome among my ladies. And, Sister Gertrude, I am always glad to see you.”

  “Poor lady,” Sister Gertrude muttered to Danise as they returned to their own tents. “You see what happens when a man loves his wife too well and will not keep himself from her bed. Hildegarde will not cease to have children until Charles’s devotion kills her. Do not allow the same thing to happen to you, Danise.”

  While not unaware of the dangers inherent in childbearing, Danise privately thought it would be wonderful to give Michel several children. And the getting of them would be a joy. She spent a busy hour helping Clothilde and Sister Gertrude pack clothes and other belongings into the wooden chests in which they would be transported to Deutz, but though her fingers were nimble in her task and she answered the questions and comments of the two other women, her thoughts were all on Michel and the life they were going to have together.

  Chapter 14

  Danise was not looking forward to the journey from Duren to Deutz. Not only would she have to part from Hildegarde, Charles, Alcuin, Redmond, and a host of other friends on the morning after her betrothal, she would be separated from Michel, too, and that was worse than all the other losses put together.

  “I will be at Deutz in a little more than three weeks,” Michel promised her. “I have told Savarec I want to marry you the day after I arrive there.”

  Still unwilling to let
him go Danise clung to him until, after one last kiss, he gently set her aside. She understood why Charles wanted Michel to make haste to secure his new estate from Clodion and Clodion’s grasping family, but during the next weeks his absence was a constant ache in her heart. She wished she could ride through the springtime landscape of Francia with him and show him the wide and sparkling Rhine, the little village of Koln and, when they finally crossed the river, the fortress of Deutz where her father acted as Charles’s commander. Most of all, she missed Michel’s compelling presence at her side. She arrived at Deutz in a dispirited state.

  “The time will fly faster than you expect,” said Clothilde. In recent days the maidservant was the only person in whom Danise could confide, since Sister Gertrude was still unreconciled to the idea of her marriage. “There is so much to do, Danise. There are clothes to be sewn, household goods to be collected—sheets and quilts, dishes and pans. And furniture. Does anyone know how well Clodion had furnished his house at Elhein?”

  “Whatever was Clodion’s, I would want removed and burned,” Danise responded. “I will have in my home no object that once belonged to him.”

  “Give it to the poor,” suggested Sister Gertrude. “Clodion was so miserly that there must be many living on his land who could use a bed or a table.”

  Clothilde was right when she said they would be busy. Savarec left word in Koln that he wanted to be notified of any peddlers who came through the town with goods a bride might use, so several times the women boarded the ferry that plied the Rhine, crossed to the western shore, and there investigated some itinerant merchant’s wares. Savarec set aside a room where the items thus collected could be stored, and he gave Danise furniture and linens that had once belonged to her mother.

  There was also the bridal chamber to be prepared, for the tiny room Danise usually shared with Sister Gertrude and Clothilde when they were at Deutz was not suitable. Savarec chose the best guestroom, a large, airy chamber on the second floor, with a double window that looked out over the garden. He ordered the walls freshly whitewashed, the floor and windows scrubbed, and then he left it to Danise to furnish it as she wanted.

  She took a typical Frankish bed from one of the other guestrooms. The wooden frame was made with carved railings at head and foot and a long rail down the side that was placed next to the wall. The mattress she stuffed with fresh straw and covered it with a feathered quilt so the straw would not scratch the occupants. New linen sheets, freshly stuffed feather pillows, and a blue quilt from her mother’s belongings completed the bed. Danise added to the decor blue curtains, a carved wooden clothes chest, a table with basin and ewer, and a chamber pot tucked under the table.

  While all of this was being prepared, she continued to sew on her clothing. With Clothilde to help her and unknown to Sister Gertrude, whom she felt certain would have been shocked, Danise made a nightrobe of sheer linen with delicate white embroidery at the round neck and short sleeves. Clothilde sewed several rows of narrow pleats around the hem of the garment.

  “Michel will love to see you in this,” Clothilde said.

  “I will wear it for my first night with him. Oh, Clothilde, when I think of it, I cannot breathe for excitement. I love him so much. I can’t wait to be his wife, to have our own home and all of our lives together to look forward to. It will be so wonderful.”

  * * *

  While Danise busied herself with bridal preparations and dreamed of the future, Michel was dealing with the unbelievably ramshackle estate that now belonged to him. Located several days’ ride due west of Aachen and set in a heavily forested area, Elhein had been used by Clodion mainly as a hunting lodge.

  “How can I bring Danise to such a place?” Michel asked Guntram. “The main building needs massive repairs. From the looks of the fields I have seen, there won’t be much in the way of crops to harvest and store for the winter. The servants are sullen, and since they are all free people, they are likely to leave at any time.” He paused, looking around his great hall in consternation.

  “If they have not run away under Clodion’s rule,” Guntram said, “then they are too disheartened to fend for themselves. They will stay, Michel. Your task will be to convince them to work.”

  Michel stared at the simple warrior who had tended him when he was ill and weak, who embodied courage and everyday common sense. Guntram had his own new estate to see to, yet at Charles’s request he had come willingly to help his friend. Michel made a silent vow not to fail either Guntram or Charles. Most of all, he would not fail Danise.

  “I have with me fifteen good men, including you,” he said to Guntram. “I plan to use all of you. Send some people out to round up everyone who lives at Elhein. I want every single person, man, woman, and child, to appear in front of this building at midday. I am going to give them a feast to celebrate my arrival. Then I’m going to put them to work.” He was not sure how Guntram would take these orders, but that dependable man grinned his approval and went off to carry them out. Michel breathed a sigh of relief. Having no practical experience in managing a large estate, and knowing he would have access to nothing more than hand tools, he did not know if he could succeed in what he wanted to do, but he wasn’t going to give up. He was going to prove to himself that he could turn Elhein into a self-supporting and profitable estate, and at the same time he would make Danise proud of him.

  He soon ran into trouble. The two women who worked in the kitchen did not have Guntram’s faith in him. They argued and complained when Michel told them what he wanted of them on that day, saying they did not have time to prepare a feast, and not enough food or drink. Feeling very much the tyrannical medieval baron, Michel refused to listen to their objections.

  “It is midsummer, a time of abundance,” he said. “I have just sent a group of my men out to hunt birds and rabbits for you to cook. I want you to start making bread at once. When the women I have ordered to attend this feast arrive, I will send them to you. Put them to work. Give the older children baskets and tell them to go into the forest and fields to collect berries. There are wheels of cheese in the coldhouse. I know, because I just saw them. Bring some of them out and serve them. At least Clodion left plenty of wine in the cellars. Well broach a few casks, but not too many. I want everyone sober enough to understand what I am going to say.”

  “Kitchen work is women’s work, not men’s,” cried the slovenly woman who claimed to be the cook, “and Count Clodion never let anyone but himself touch the wine, nor drink it, neither.”

  “It’s not Clodion’s wine anymore,” he reminded her. “It’s mine now and today I intend to share it with the folk who work for me.”

  Both kitchen women gaped at him as if they could not believe what they were hearing.

  “Before you do anything,” Michel directed, “heat some water and wash your hands and faces. There’s not much else you can do today except get the food on the table, but tomorrow I want this kitchen scrubbed from top to bottom. From its condition right now, I’m surprised you people haven’t all died from food poisoning. Do you have any other clothes?” he ended, frowning at the filthy, tattered garments the two women were wearing.

  “This here’s all we got,” said the so-called cook.

  “I’ll do something about that as soon as I can. While you are cleaning tomorrow, make a list in your head of the supplies you’ll need for the kitchen. When I go to Deutz in a couple of weeks, I’ll stop in Koln and get as much as I can and send it to you. I’ll also see that you get cloth for new dresses. What are you staring at?”

  “I be needin’ a new kettle,” said the cook. ‘Th’ old one’s cracked. Clodion never cared ‘bout that.”

  “Ain’t no soap left.” Her companion eyed Michel with cautious hope. “Can’t clean wi’ no soap.”

  “Right.” Encouraged that they were at least paying attention to his wishes, Michel made a fast decision. “Tomorrow you make soap. The following day you clean. I’ll tell the other women to help you. As for the new kettle, you
shall have two of them. In the meantime, do the best you can with what you have here now.”

  He knew they did not quite believe him. Neither did the rest of the folk whom Guntram and his men rounded up, who came reluctantly and sullenly to the midday feast he had ordered and who listened to his speech as if they had heard it all many times in the past.

  “You can’t expect them to change all at once,” Guntram said later when Michel voiced his disappointment at the general lack of enthusiasm for the changes he proposed to make. “From what I’ve heard, Clodion was cruel but he was also lax. He’d beat a few peasants on each of his visits, kill one now and then just to show he could, and take the prettiest girls for his own entertainment. But he didn’t care a bit what they did when he wasn’t here. These people aren’t used to working regularly, and they aren’t used to an honest master, either.”

  “They’ll have to get used to both, and fast,” Michel replied. “I intend to whip this place into shape before Danise comes here.”

  She was the reason for everything he did. He wanted to write to her, but there was no parchment or ink available, not even a wax tablet. No one at Elhein knew how to read or write. Michel quickly learned how to keep lists in his head as his companions did. He learned a lot in those few weeks before his marriage to Danise, and most of it depressed him, for he soon realized he was far out of his depth.

  He was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of work that had to be done using the simplest technology. For all his training and archaeological experience, he did not know enough about the details of daily life in the eighth century. He would have been lost without Guntram’s help. By the time he departed Elhein for Deutz and his wedding to Danise, Michel was deeply discouraged.