by Speer, Flora
“I told you to close it,” came another, impatient, voice. “We’re lucky we weren’t discovered.”
“How do we know we weren’t? In this darkness, anyone could be hidden, listening.”
“If there’s an eavesdropper here, we’ll find him.”
The barely heard voices made the threat of discovery even more terrifying to Gina. She heard the unmistakable whisper of steel weapons being withdrawn from their sheaths. The man with the candle began walking toward the nave. The others spread out, drawn swords at the ready. They were like dark, hooded ghosts prowling quietly through the church. The only sound was their soft footsteps.
Dominick pushed her between the saint’s statue and the wall and held her there, his dark-cloaked back toward the searchers as if to confer invisibility on Gina and himself. His hand was no longer over her mouth, but she was too frightened to make a sound.
The quiet footsteps came closer. Suddenly, without warning, a sword was thrust behind the statue, the blade coming so close to Gina’s left side that she could almost feel the coldness of the metal. She feared she’d faint from terror, until a soft call from the chancel drew the swordsman’s attention elsewhere.
“Here, behind the altar! Look what I’ve found.”
“Well, there is no one down here in the nave,” said the swordsman.
His voice was so close that Gina almost screamed. She sank against Dominick, shaking, as the swordsman’s footsteps moved back toward the chancel. The man holding the candle followed his friend. Dominick relaxed his hold on Gina, and she turned a little, so she could peek around the side of the statue and see what was going on.
“Well, well. I was right about an eavesdropper.” The candle was set down on the altar again while the conspirators gathered to regard the little man in clerical robes who stood quivering before them.
“What have we caught?” asked someone. “Is it a priest?”
“No, no,” said the little man. “I am not ordained. I’m only a deacon – Deacon Fardulf.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to light the candles for Matins,” answered Deacon Fardulf.
“Did you? And how long have you been hiding behind the altar?”
“Not long. Not long at all.”
“What did you hear, Deacon Fardulf?” The anonymous voice held a threatening note that made Gina shrink back against Dominick’s stalwart solidity.
“Hear? Oh, nothing, my lords. I am a bit deaf, you see.” Fardulf made the mistake of crossing himself several times.
“You’ve just told a lie inside a church,” said one of the swordsmen, setting the tip of his blade under Fardulf’’s chin. “That’s why you crossed yourself, isn’t it?”
Fardulf gave a terrified squawk, peering from one hooded man to another as if trying to recognize them.
“Strip him,” commanded the leader of the conspirators.
“Please don’t. Not here in the chancel, before the altar,” Fardulf cried. “It wouldn’t be seemly.”
They paid him no heed but tore his dark robe from him, leaving him shivering and trying to cover his nakedness while they laughed at him.
“I say run him through,” someone suggested.
“Not here,” said the leader. “Shedding blood inside a holy church will surely damn us. Our plan would be ruined.”
“Then let’s take him outside and kill him there.”
“I have a better idea,” the leader said. “On your knees before the altar, Fardulf.” He prodded the little man with his sword until Fardulf did as ordered.
“Now,” said the leader, “swear by all the holy saints, by the sacred relics in the altar cross, and by everything you hold dear that you will never reveal what you’ve heard here tonight.”
“I swear.” Fardulf clasped his shaking hands together and bent his head. “Oh, I do swear most solemnly on all the saints and on the relics, and on my dear mother’s grave, too. I will say nothing, my lords. Not a word.”
“It’s not good enough,” protested one of the conspirators.
“I think it is,” the leader responded. “Fardulf is a deacon, so he knows better than most men what an oath taken before an altar means. Don’t you, Fardulf?” The tip of his sword poked at one of Fardulf s bare buttocks.
“I do know. I have sworn the firmest, most solemn oath possible,” Fardulf responded in a quavering voice.
“Let him live.” The leader sheathed his sword. “It’s time for us to be gone from here before anyone else appears. Remember your oath, Fardulf.”
While the naked deacon crouched on his knees at the altar, the conspirators left their candle behind and melted into the darkness. Gina heard the south door close, and then the church was silent, except for Fardulf’s sobs.
“Dominick, we have to get to Charles,” Gina whispered.
“Wait a bit. One or two of those men may decide to come back and finish the deacon after all, just to be absolutely certain he doesn’t speak.”
They stood hidden behind the statue for what seemed to Gina to be hours, until Dominick finally released her and stepped into the nave.
“You were a fool to come here,” he said, sounding angry.
“So were you,” she countered. “If those men had seen you, they wouldn’t have been as kind to you as they were to that poor, harmless little deacon.”
“What do you imagine they’d have done to you?” he demanded, his voice growing louder.
“Who’s there?” cried Fardulf, cringing against the altar.
“We’re friends.” Gina started forward. “Don’t worry, we won’t hurt you.”
“A woman!” Fardulf tried in vain to cover himself. “Don’t look at me. Oh, what shame!”
“You are not to blame for what happened,” Gina said as firmly as she could manage, given her own recent terror. Stooping, she plucked Fardulf s robe from the chancel floor and draped it over his thin shoulders. “This is torn all the way down the front, but I think there’s enough cloth for you to cover yourself. Would you like my sash to fasten it?”
“Thank you, no. My cincture must be here somewhere.” Fardulf began to look around the chancel.
“Here it is.” Dominick handed him the thick, knotted cord that clerics wore as a belt. Fardulf seized it and wrapped it around his narrow waist, thus securing the remnants of his robe.
“Are you all right?” Gina asked.
“How could I be?” cried Fardulf. “I have just been forced to swear a wicked oath. Oh, what shall I do?”
“There is a way for you to erase the shame of what has happened here,” Dominick responded. “I once heard a bishop argue that an oath sworn under duress is no oath at all.”
“What do you mean?” Fardulf stared at him as if seeing a faint glimmer of hope through his terror.
“Those men gave you two choices,” Dominick said. “You could swear as they demanded, or refuse and forfeit your life.”
“I did as they wanted. I am a wretched coward.”
“Far from it. You made the wiser choice. I am assuming you did hear everything the conspirators said?”
Fardulf regarded Dominick fearfully and did not respond.
“I need you to bear witness to what happened here,” Dominick explained.
“Witness?” Fardulf squeaked.
“We heard everything, too,” Gina said, speaking gently to encourage him to forget his very legitimate fears. “The three of us, together, can convince Charles that our story of the plot is true.”
“Charles? You expect me to speak to the king?” Fardulf cried.
“You don’t want him to be murdered, do you?” asked Dominick.
“Never. He is a good Christian ruler and always generous to the Church. But I will have to find another robe before I can go to the palace.”
“I want Charles to see you as you are now,” Dominick said. “Let him know how roughly that band of traitors has treated an honest deacon.”
“Charles will call you a, hero,” Gina adde
d.
“Do you think so?” Fardulf stood a little straighter, throwing back his shoulders and lifting his chin. “In that case, let us be on our way.”
“Don’t you have to light the candles for Matins?” Gina asked.
“Oh, yes. I’d almost forgotten.” Fardulf took the taper the conspirators had left, and, using both hands to steady his arm, he began to light the thick candles that stood on either side of the altar and at the foot of the chancel. “I wouldn’t want anyone to say I’ve been derelict in my duties.”
“No one could possibly claim that,” Gina assured him. Then, to Dominick, she added, “As I told Fardulf, I am also going to Charles. I can back up the story you tell.”
“It will be better if no one knows of your involvement in this matter,” Dominick objected.
“Do you actually expect me to find my way back to your house alone in the dark?”
“Why not? You found your way here alone in the dark.”
“I had you to follow,” she said sweetly, and she saw in the candlelight the look of admiration he tried to hide from her.
“We will go out by a different door from the one the conspirators used,” Dominick said to Fardulf. “They may have left a guard, in case anyone else was hiding in the church to overhear their plans.”
At this Fardulf began to look frightened again. He pulled himself together when Gina smiled at him and touched his arm in a friendly way.
“We are depending on you,” she said.
“It will have to be the north transept door, then,” Fardulf said to her. “It leads to an enclosed courtyard, and from there it’s only a few steps to the street.”
Chapter 14
Getting away from the church unseen wasn’t difficult. Getting into the private wing of the palace was. Charles’s personal guards were well-trained, and the man on sentry duty was most unwilling to allow the king to be disturbed in the middle of the night by people who demanded entrance through a small side door that led directly to the royal apartments.
“Come back in the morning,” said the guard, “and present yourself at the main entrance. Explain your business, and you’ll be conducted to Charles.” With that, the guard slammed the door shut in their faces.
“You don’t understand!” Fardulf shouted, pounding on the door. “I am a deacon of the church of St. Peter and a respectable man. I bring news of vital importance to Charles. You must admit me!”
“Fardulf, calm yourself,” Dominick ordered.
“Our errand is urgent!” Fardulf exclaimed.
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Dominick placed a restraining hand on Fardulf’s shoulder. “Stand back, and allow me to speak with the guard.”
Dominick rapped briskly on the door. When the annoyed guard jerked it open again, Dominick spoke at once, talking right over the guard’s command to stop making so much noise. In a firm voice Dominick stated his name and title for a second time and was insisting that he must see the king promptly when Charles himself appeared. The king was barefoot and wearing only a pair of trousers evidently donned so hastily that he kept them up by holding them to his waist with one hand.
“What in the name of heaven is all this noise?” Charles demanded. “Dominick, is that you? Why are you here so late? Come in and tell me what’s wrong.”
“Count Dominick, you must leave your sword outside,” said the guard.
“Never mind,” Charles said brusquely. “Let him in.”
The guard stood back to let Dominick and his companions file through the small entry hall into a slightly larger room.
When Charles saw Gina, he quickly fastened the drawstring on his trousers and accepted a short cloak the guard handed to him. With the cloak slung over his shoulders to cover the upper half of his body, Charles ran his fingers through his pale hair. Thus prepared, though still barefoot and bare-chested, he faced his unexpected visitors with the regal dignity that was natural to him, a dignity that did not require costly robes or a golden crown.
Fardulf was so overcome that he fell to his knees before Charles.
“Well, Dominick?” Charles quirked an eyebrow at the younger man and awaited an explanation.
“My lord, with your permission, I’d like the guard to remain with us while Fardulf speaks,”’ Dominick said. “I don’t believe we have been followed from St. Peter s church, but if we have, there will be two of us ready to defend you.”
“Why should I need defending?” Charles asked, his tall body suddenly still, his handsome face alert.
“I will let Fardulf explain,” Dominick said, turning to the deacon. “Now is the time to tell your story. When you are finished, Gina and I will add what we know of the matter. On your feet, man.”
“Fardulf is something of a hero, my lord,” Gina added, seeing how the deacon trembled and wanting to encourage him. “Go on, Fardulf.”
“It was my turn to rise early and light the candles before Matins,” Fardulf began, and went on to recount the events of that night from his personal point of view. He ended by showing the king his torn robe, and then thanking Dominick and Gina for their aid. “They told me I must come to you at once, my lord, so here I am.”
“Did you recognize any of the traitors?” Charles asked in a voice so low and calm that it was possible to imagine he wasn’t at all upset by what he had learned.
Unless one looked into his eyes. The usually warm and humorous blue gaze of the king of the Franks had turned hard as stone. Seeing that look, Gina knew the conspirators were going to pay dearly for their treacherous scheme.
“I never saw their faces,” said Fardulf. “All of them kept their hoods pulled well forward. It was almost as if they wanted to remain hidden even from each other, though it was plain that they were old comrades. I believe I did recognize one of the voices I heard, but I cannot accuse any man of such dastardly intentions unless I am absolutely certain of his guilt.”
“I’ll not blame you for being scrupulous,” Charles said. “If you see or hear anything that definitely puts a name to any of those faceless figures, come to me again and tell me of it. I will not forget what you have done, Fardulf.”
“It was no more than my duty,” Fardulf responded, standing very straight.
Charles ordered his guard to see Fardulf to the door by which he had entered and to find a man-at-arms to escort the deacon safely back to the church.
“Now that we are alone,” Charles said, looking from Dominick to Gina, “I will hear the rest of it. I am sure there is more than Fardulf knows. That’s why you wanted him to speak first, isn’t it? He said the conspirators mentioned young Pepin.”
“I believe Pepin is nothing more than a pawn to them,” Gina said quickly.
“Have you proof of that assertion?” Charles asked, turning his cold blue stare on her.
“He loves you!” Gina cried.
“Love can lead to terrible crimes,” Charles said. “Dominick, I will hear you first, then Gina.”
Dominick began to speak, starting with Pepin’s unexpected arrival at Feldbruck and his attempt to convince Dominick to join the conspiracy.
“Pepin feels slighted in favor of his more able-bodied brothers,” Dominick concluded his account. “He believes you do not love him, and his sense of honor was sorely wounded when he was declared a bastard and then, later, when you ordered Carloman re-baptized as Pepin. Even so, he insisted to me that the worst punishment he wants to see inflicted upon you is confinement to a monastery. When I warned him that the traitors would most certainly take your life, he was horrified. I doubt if he has yet considered the inevitable end of the plot, which is that once he has served his purpose, he will have to be killed, too.”
“Furthermore,” Gina said, breaking into Dominick’s remarks on Pepin’s behalf, “Pepin has that dreadful Father Guntram talking at him all day, every day, constantly scolding and criticizing and forever lecturing him. It’s enough to drive anyone to desperate measures.”
“Fastrada recommended Father Guntram as Pe
pin’s tutor and spiritual advisor,” Charles said. “She has every faith in the priest.”
“The queen hates Pepin,” Gina stated flatly. “Did you know she met with Father Guntram yesterday?”
“That is impossible. Father Guntram is with Pepin, and they are still a day’s journey away from Regensburg.”
“Pepin may be a day’s journey away. Father Guntram was here, in the palace. I saw him with the queen,” Gina insisted.
Charles stared at her again for a long moment, those blue eyes boring into her. Gina returned his gaze without fear. Then he said, “Tell me everything you know of this matter of the plot.”
She did as he ordered, confirming Dominick’s story and Deacon Fardulf’s tale and adding her own feminine impressions of the situation, hoping Charles would not discount them. She also spoke bluntly of Pepin’s feelings about Fastrada and said she thought Pepin was justified in disliking the queen. Gina didn’t think Charles would be angry with her for being honest. Surely he knew what kind of person Fastrada was.
“There is a general feeling of resentment against the queen,” Dominick said quietly when Gina was finished.
“I have heard the complaints about Tassilo’s fortune,” Charles retorted impatiently. “I do not want to hear them repeated yet again.”
“It isn’t just the treasure,” Dominick said. “I thought it was, until I came to Regensburg and began to listen to what your nobles are saying amongst themselves. Fastrada is too selfish and cruel ever to exercise power fairly. While you were away in Bavaria, and Fastrada ruled in your name, she undertook the ruin of all who disagreed with her on any subject. Nor did she cease her machinations after you returned home.”
Dominick halted there, not mentioning what Fastrada had tried to do to him. The sharp look he gave Gina warned her to say nothing of his marriage and divorce. After a moment of reflection, Gina decided he was right. If Dominick brought up his own situation, Charles could dismiss his observations, claiming he had a personal complaint against the queen.
But Gina feared that Dominick’s remarks would make no difference. Charles was emotionally attached to his wife, and he wasn’t likely to institute divorce proceedings just because his nobles didn’t like her.
