“Where is Sipontum, Lulfy?”
“It’s in Apulia, Trudy, but that does not matter… Instead, have you ever heard of Longobards going sailing? That’s the fishy thing! He was obviously murdered by an ambitious Grimwald, and the pirate story is just a cover up! He is going to come for me next, I know…”
“Lulfy, Lulfy, don’t be like this…”
Hermetruda went over to her broad shouldered husband and hugged him, as Adalulf began to sob and hugged her back. She then squeezed his biceps and continued:
“Oh Lulfy… look how strong you are! You are the brutal Adalulf, the dreaded Lord of Patavium! Your neighbors fear you! The Duke of Tarvisium and the Duke of Vicetia can’t even look at you straight in the eyes! And you are not even a duke!”
Adalulf started to giggle as Hermetruda had moved her hands from his biceps to underneath his armpits. And she continued:
“Lulfy… we made it through tougher times before… and you are an old fox, and I know you will think of something…”
Adalulf was recomposing himself, and while still hugging his round and middle-aged wife, he told her:
“Trudy, my love, I have already thought of something, but it’s more of an escape route… we might have to readjust our living standards…”
“What is it Lulfy? What is your plan?”
“I have invited Tiberio over,” Adalulf explained. “I have sent my guards to ask for him… He should be here very soon…”
There was a knock at the door, and one of Adalulf’s guards was heard saying from behind the door:
“Lord Adalulf! The guest, Tiberio the merchant, is waiting in the main hall!”
“Oh, not in that icy cold hall!” Adalulf yelled back. “That’s for formal business… have him come straight in here!”
Adalulf began composing himself, making sure there were no tears in his cheeks, that his back was straight and that his belly was tucked carefully inside his large leather belt. Hermetruda was puzzled. He had never invited anyone inside their domestic quarters, neither Longobards nor Latins. He had his formal hall where he intimidated guests, and he kept the dining area for family and servitude only. And then Adalulf whispered to Hermetruda:
“Trudy, call Fabia and tell her to come over too!”
There was again a knock at the door. This time it was Tiberio himself, and he had brought along Primo. They entered and Tiberio began:
“Lord Adalulf, I came as soon as possible. I hope you don’t mind, but I also brought my son-in-law Primo… he is rarely in town and he insisted in coming…”
“Yes, yes, I am glad you came! I didn’t know you were here, Primo! You are either up in the mountains or down by the sea…”
At that moment, Hermetruda returned with Fabia, and Tiberio greeted them:
“Lady Hermetruda! What a lovely home you have…”
Hermetruda played the role of the regnant, distant from her subjects, and nodded without too much enthusiasm for the compliment received. She was not quite sure of Adalulf’s intentions and of what role he wanted her to perform.
“Tiberio, I won’t keep you very long…” Adalulf explained, “It’s almost dinner time and I am sure you have plans to see your grandchildren for supper…”
Adalulf smiled while looking at Primo, as he was referring to Primo’s two children he had with Livia, Tiberio’s daughter. Adalulf was being very affable and he continued:
“You see, Tiberio, I hear that the lagoon’s population is growing and that it is very prosperous… And I am glad, and also proud because I contributed by allowing trade to flow through the Brint River!”
Adalulf smiled at his two guests, and they smiled back, though not sure where Adalulf was going with this uncomfortably warm and excessively well mannered reception.
“I will get to the point,” Adalulf continued. “Hermetruda and I would like to be able to visit the lagoon, and perhaps also temporarily stay during the warm season…”
Adalulf paused, not sure if he should have approached the matter in a less direct way. He was now studying the body language of the two Latins he had in his kitchen.
Tiberio then broke the ice:
“I think this would be a lovely idea! What do you think Primo?”
“I don’t see a problem,” Primo answered, after a slight hesitation. “In fact, I am on my way to the lagoon tomorrow, as we have Cimbrian traders and their cargo to escort. I will discuss it as soon as I arrive there, and I’ll make sure you have a proper reception.”
“And this way, Fabia over here,” Adalulf continued, pointing at Fabia, “…to whom Hermetruda and I are attached as if she were our own daughter… this way Fabia can get to see her other cousin more often as well!”
Hermetruda was genuinely attached to Fabia. She had borne many sons, who had all died in battle, except for little Trasoald. She still remembered the day that Adalulf brought home Fabia, the daughter they had never been able to have.
Polo’s ship was sailing down the coast from Heraclia all the way to the Lido Albo’s inlet. Sabino and Polo were on deck together with two young sailors. As they entered the inlet, they arrived at a much more developed lagoon, compared to five years before, right after the Opterg’s massacre. There were sheep and farmland on Lido Albo, and Olivolo was not a precarious campground anymore. Now there were wooden and stone structures. People were bustling about. They docked in the basin of the island then called Olivolo.
“Polo, the progress this area has made in just a few years is spectacular!” Sabino commented.
“Sabino, take a look at my carpenters over there! Look at those ships being built!” Polo replied proudly.
“And everyone is so young!”
“I know! We are in our early twenties, and we are among the oldest around here! It’s sad because it reminds us of the Opterg massacre, but it is encouraging for the future…”
As Polo and Sabino disembarked, they met Primo and the Cimbrians.
“How is the new ship holding up? Seems pretty good!” Primo asked as he embraced his brother.
“It holds, but it is too slow. It’s able to go back and forth to Istria, but we would never reach Constantinople with it…”
“Then let’s copy one of those Byzantine ships!” Primo suggested.
“They don’t hold enough cargo… we need something in between…”
“I think I know what needs to be done…” Primo replied, smiling. “The new ships being built should do the trick. But first, let’s conclude some transactions with the Cimbrians. They have already deposited all their merchandise.”
“Fine, Primo, tell them that we also have plenty of olives this time around…”
Boiorix interrupted Polo, who together with Gaesorix and Lugius had approached Polo and Sabino at the dock.
“I can understand and speak your tongue now, Venetian!”
“Venetian!?” Polo answered, taken by surprise.
“Yes, that’s how the Cimbrians call us now,” Primo explained. “They need to distinguish us from the Latins under the Longobards’ heels, so they name us based on the Byzantine word for these coasts: Venetikà.”
“I like it…” Polo replied. “I like it… ‘Polo Licio the Venetian’… it sounds much better than ‘Policio the Heraclian’… that made me sound like a Greek!”
“And much better than ‘Policio Anafesto’!” Primo added.
“Why Anafesto? It’s the first time that I hear it…” Sabino asked.
“It’s the family name of our father, of Primo and me,” Polo explained. “It was written on a parchment I rescued from the farm we grew up in. And Father Leontio confirmed.”
“Anyway, back to us, Venetian…” Boiorix continued. “I had to learn your tongue, because that’s the only way we can negotiate for a better deal!”
“I am happy to give you a better deal. I have several barrels
of olives…”
Polo signaled to one of his sailors to bring down a basket of olives, and then continued:
“They are still somewhat bitter now. Rinse them with water frequently, and up in the mountains you do not have scarcity of water, and in about a month they should be perfect.”
The basket of olives arrived, and they all tasted some of them.
“I prefer the olive oil you had last year, but even if this is bitter… I still like it!” Gaesorix commented, while chewing.
Polo walked a few steps away with Primo.
“Primo, I left about a dozen barrels in Heraclia for the Opterg market, and I have four twenties in the hull of the ship. I say we take twenty to Patavium to your father-in-law, Tiberio. We have your cousin Justo come and pick up another twenty for Ateste and the Athesis route all the way to Verona. Another twenty for Tarvisium and the rest of the Sile trade, and the remainder of what the Cimbrians don’t take we keep in Rivo Alto in the new emporium.”
“Sounds right!” Primo agreed.
“They are salted, so they can last all year long! So it’s a good item to keep in storage.”
“Do you want to come see the shipyard now?”
“Give Sabino a tour, it’s part of the reason I brought him here. And if you don’t mind, I will borrow your small boat…”
Polo hopped into the small slender boat, and before he departed, Primo asked him:
“I have something important to discuss with you aside from the ships…”
“Can it wait tomorrow?”
Primo watched as Polo had already pushed the boat off dock… and so Primo nodded as if to say ‘we will talk tomorrow’.
Polo was standing on the boat, holding the long oar. He was venturing into the same wide canal where he had re-encountered Primo five years before. Here a bustling village was being built. Wooden houses on stilts stood on the high bank side of the canal. Here was the heart of the new town of Rivo Alto that was emerging.
Polo docked the boat in the same place where five years before he camped out with Primo. On that spot, there was a house, and he saw Marcia at the doorstep smiling at him. She turned toward the inside of the house and called out:
“Orso, come! Your father is back!”
Chapter 11
PROFITING FROM WAR
The next morning Polo and Primo were walking side by side in the bustling shipyard of Olivolo, and Polo was asking his brother:
“…so, if we manage to finish these four ships by this winter, we might be able to sail down the Adriatic by next spring. Hopefully all the way to Constantinople, but maybe we can do all our business beforehand in one of the many Greek ports…”
“Next spring will definitely be our year!” Primo agreed. “I cannot wait… ugh, Polo… there is another matter that I need to talk to you about…”
“Tell me.”
“Before coming down to Olivolo, I had a meeting with Adalulf, because he requested to speak to Tiberio…”
“Old Adalulf! I don’t know if to still hate him for what he did in Altinum, or to thank him for what he did for us in Opterg.”
“Whatever he does is for his interests, so let’s not thank him too much for Opterg.” Primo pointed out.
“Agreed!” Polo concurred.
“So, the reason he wanted to talk to us is because he wants to come down here…”
“What do you mean come down here? Is he going to invade us?” Polo did not understand. “A Longobard on a boat? Ha!”
Polo laughed at the idea of Adalulf capsizing his boat as soon as he stepped into it.
“No, not to conquer us, he wants to visit. He says he wants to come down with his wife Hermetruda, and with Fabia. He wants to be able to spend some time here during the summer months.”
The two brothers kept on walking in silence. They did not exchange another word for some time. They were both thinking. In part, they had unresolved issues with Adalulf and they were only barely tolerating him for commercial convenience with the Brint River route. In part, they were not sure what good could come out of it, if there was a commercial advantage for them, of some sort. But most importantly, they were trying to figure out what would be in it for Adalulf. After some thought Polo broke the silence:
“Well, if he is bringing his wife his reason is not to run away from her. We can rule that out, right?”
“Right, and on the positive side we must also think that we will get to see Fabia much more often…” Primo replied.
“That’s for sure, and you know what? Just for that, I can tell you already that I am in favor and I will convince everyone else. But I still want to figure out what Adalulf has in mind…”
“There might be some political problems he is trying to escape, maybe?” Primo suggested.
“Impossible! Adalulf overpowers the neighboring dukes, and I highly doubt he has rivalries within Patavium… And at this time there is no king strong enough to control him…”
Polo paused. Then he had a revelation.
“Primo! I think I know, I definitely think it is Longobard politics, and you know how Longobards settle their political differences…”
“Fine, but we don’t really care. The thing is, how will he be accepted? What do we have him do?” Primo wondered.
“I think if he does something useful, it will be easier for the others to accept a Longobard guest here in the lagoon. When you get a chance, tell him he is welcome.”
“Yes, and in the meanwhile, let’s spread the word. If people talk about it already, they get used to the idea,” Primo added.
Primo and Polo were interrupted by Sabino, who met them at the shipyard:
“Primo! Polo! I cannot believe the industry you are developing over here! If my father Saverio finds out he will surely want to ask you for more taxes!”
Sabino was being friendly, but he was also puzzled. Why wouldn’t Polo try to keep these activities hidden from the taxman? Why would he invite Sabino to witness everything that was going on?
“Heh, heh! That’s true, that’s the risk I am taking by having you here…” Polo answered. “But I also wanted to share with you the excitement, and… perhaps instead of continuing your father’s boring and thankless activity, perhaps you might want to help us out instead!”
“Help you out? But Polo, I am neither a carpenter, nor a sailor…”
“You see… commerce is growing… it’s growing beyond what I can manage… Let me get to the point, Sabino: I need someone who can count. Someone who can count properly. You know, God is in the details, and I want to run a tighter ship… I am being too imprecise with too many things…”
“I don’t know Polo, it sounds fascinating, but who is going to help my father…”
“You don’t have to give me an answer now! In fact, you can tell me ‘no’, and I will just ask you again a few months from now.”
Polo laughed to show Sabino that he was joking, and to put him at ease. Then he continued:
“But to make a well measured decision, you must also try out being a taxman! And that’s why I am escorting you to Metamauco!”
“But I thought you were going to do the talking with those belligerent fishermen! I thought my father Saverio asked you to mediate…”
“I am just going there to see if they want to buy my olives! I am minding my own business! I am just courteous enough to give you a ride!” Polo replied.
Sabino was looking anxious and worried, so Polo explained himself better:
“Listen, Sabino… You can’t decide whether you want to be a taxman unless you try it firsthand. It’s not enough to stand there, behind your father all the time. You need to get your feet wet, see how it really is. Then you will know if it is for you.”
Sabino took Polo’s word of encouragement to heart.
“Fine, I think you are right. I will do the talking,” Sabin
o agreed.
“Good! Give me a couple more days here in Olivolo and Rivo Alto — just enough to conclude some business — and then we will be on our way to Metamauco.”
Polo, Sabino and the two sailors on board were all sailing on Polo’s ship toward an outer bank island. They approached a fishing village on the lagoon side of the island, where a few fishermen were sitting by their boats, and they appeared to be fixing their fishing nets. This was the fishing village of Metamauco.
As they approached, Mauro, Metamauco’s village leader, shouted:
“You get any closer with that floating tub of yours, you are going to get stranded. The lagoon bed near shore is too shallow for bulky ships like yours!”
“Thank you for the warning!” Polo yelled back. “We will come ashore with our ship’s launch-boat!”
“You stay where you are! We have not invited you here, and you are not welcome here!” Mauro warned.
Mauro, sitting on an upside down bucket, was shouting his warnings without even lifting his eyes from the fishing net he was tying together.
Sabino then found the courage to speak, anticipating any of Polo’s sweet talking:
“I come on behalf of my father, Saverio of Grado! I come to collect taxes due by Metamauco for the Exarch of Ravenna!”
Mauro laughed contemptuously, completely ignoring Sabino. Then he shouted at Polo:
“Ha! So now you ferry taxmen around the lagoon? I guess if you are not good at fishing or farming, there is not much left for you to do!”
“I actually just came to see if you were interested in some fine olives I have just brought over from Istria!” Polo defended himself.
Polo was trying to break the ice and recuperate from Sabino’s abrupt introduction. He held out a basket of olives to show. Mauro and the other fishermen ignored him, wanting to discourage Polo, and force him leave. Polo decided to toss an olive over the water to Mauro.
“Here! Have a taste!”
The olive landed on the sand right next to Mauro. He picked it up, rinsed it on the salty water, and then took a bite.
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