“We will be fine,” Adalulf reassured. “You see… basically every warrior that was involved in the ambush Grimwald escaped six years ago, every single one wanted to take refuge with me, because they are all convinced Grimwald will recognize them.”
“I understand, and I think if your people practice a trade useful to the city, the assimilation will go smoothly.”
“Do you have any suggestions? We have essentially been warriors all our lives…”
“We are in need of blacksmiths…” Primo said.
“That’s something my men excel at! How else would we forge so may weapons! Heh, heh, heh…”
Primo looked at Adalulf’s son Trasoald who was staring at the thick reeds, hoping to spy the open lagoon through the tall grass.
“It must be tough switching from being a warrior to be a blacksmith…” Primo continued. “I mean, I am sure you would want for your son Trasoald to follow in your footsteps…”
Adalulf took a deep breath, and after a brief pause, he decided to answer, even though it meant explaining a bit more about himself:
“You see, Primo, I had five sons, and Trasoald is the only one left. My first born we had when Hermetruda and I were only sixteen…”
Adalulf smiled at his wife, remembering the beginning of their long journey together. But Hermetruda was staring at the water flowing to the side, a little melancholy for what Adalulf was about to recount.
“My first four sons were very close in age, and they looked up to me,” Adalulf continued. “They looked up to me a lot… Perhaps it was because I was too young to be a more balanced father, but I was too demanding with them, and quite ambitious as well.”
Primo was feeling a knot in his throat as he forgot to swallow while listening attentively to what Adalulf was about to say.
“I pushed them, and they wanted to prove themselves to me… Well, as warriors it can happen to lose a son in battle, but when it becomes four sons… whether it’s by the sword of a more experienced soldier… or by torture while imprisoned… or an errant Byzantine arrow… or a revenge murder by a rival clan… when it is four sons then… then you begin to think.”
Adalulf paused, and he looked away at a random distant point, as if he, too, had a knot in his throat. He then continued:
“So to answer your question: no. I do not regret that Trasoald will not be able to follow in his father’s footsteps.”
Hermetruda was now looking at Trasoald, and she tried to distract him, as she knew he was listening to everything while pretending to be playing with the oar sockets on the side of the boat.
“So, Trasoald!” Hermetruda addressed her son. “Aren’t you excited that you are going to meet new friends?”
“He is not going to make new friends if you call him Trasoald!” Adalulf interrupted.
Hermetruda looked at her husband a bit puzzled. After all, Adalulf was the one who chose that name.
“With Latins you have to add an ‘O’ at the end,” Adalulf explained. “Call him Trasoaldo. In fact, just call him Aldo for short.”
A dock crowded with boats was visible through the thick lagoon fog… or was it smoke from a cooking fire? Several soldiers and privateers were dining in a gloomy evening light illuminated only by the chargrill on the deck of Polo’s ship. This was the lagoon village of Cioza. At one table Tribune Gregorios, Polo, and Marcello were sitting together with wine cups in front of them. Behind them, at other tables, other familiar faces, like Saverio, Sabino, and Father Leontio, were also dining. Marcia, Claudio and Paulina were bustling about tables.
“Well, Polo…” Tribune Gregorios said. “If it wasn’t for your makeshift eatery, I don’t think we would have been able to have so many men stay here in Cioza, waiting for Grimwald…”
“I felt like it was my duty, Tribune Gregorios…” Polo answered with a straight face. “I was thinking of the community.”
“Yes, yes, for the community, sure… and so far paying for the soldiers’ meals has cost me a couple of gold solidi that I had in reserve for the winter… in order to pay for your ‘sacrifice’…”
Tribune Gregorios was savoring his wine, so he was not upset with Polo, as he was enjoying having a hot meal and drinks while camping in the open in the middle of winter. But he wanted to poke at Polo, as to say that he was aware of the monetary gains he was making.
“I am modestly just recuperating the costs incurred, Tribune Gregorios, nothing more…” Polo justified himself. “But now the pantry is dwindling… how long has it been? Two weeks?”
“Yes, almost two weeks that we are waiting to see if Grimwald attacks, but no news so far, not from Ravenna, not from Ateste, not from Patavium…”
“My father should be back from Ateste by tonight, he will have definite news,” Marcello interrupted Tribune Gregorios.
At that moment, a commotion was heard from the nearby men. They were welcoming a new arrival. Primo’s boat was docking, as he had finally arrived in Cioza as well. Primo joined Polo, Tribune Gregorios and Marcello at the table. Polo greeted his brother:
“Primo! We thought you would be staying in Patavium for the winter! Let me bring you a hot plate of food and some wine…”
Polo got up and headed toward the chargrill to bring food for his brother. Primo sat down and began to update Tribune Gregorios.
“Tribune Gregorios, remember I mentioned we might have Adalulf as our guest this summer?”
“Yes, I think we owe him that, given that he has delivered Opterg for us…”
“Well, they decided to anticipate their ‘visit’, and he came with the rest of his troops from that Opterg ambush… and families…”
Polo returned, knocked a plate of food on the table, right in front of Primo, and set a full cup of wine next to him.
“Adalulf is in Rivo Alto!? Right now?” Polo asked surprised.
“I don’t know if I like this…” Tribune Gregorios commented. “One Longobard family is one thing, but a whole troop, and while we are all the away in Cioza?”
“I have placed them in Canareclo,” Primo explained. “They are camping there. It is across several canals from Olivolo and Rivo Alto, and they are a bit disoriented being surrounded by water. They are no threat, if anything I think they need some help to adjust…”
“Oh, it’s a good thing! It’s a good thing!” Polo added. “I am glad they came early, and even better that he brought some warriors with him…”
Tribune Gregorios was looking at Polo a bit perplexed, trying to figure out what he was thinking now, and then he asked Primo:
“But what are they going to do?”
“I suggested that we need blacksmiths, and they were eager to get started…”
“Oh, I know what they can do…” Polo thought out loud.
Tribune Gregorios turned and looked at Polo inquisitively, suspicious of Polo’s intentions. Polo got up quickly with the excuse of cleaning up the table, and in that way avoided being questioned by the Tribune.
There was another commotion from the surrounding men. ‘Justo is back! Justo is back!’ was spoken with trepidation by the men. Justo arrived and now stood in front of Tribune Gregorios giving the update:
“Grimwald has spared both Ravenna and Patavium, and all the towns and ports in between! He is heading to the Longobard capital Papia!”
Everybody cheered, as they were tired of the wait and ready to return to their villages. Tribune Gregorios stood up and announced to the crowd:
“Tomorrow morning we sail back!”
Back at the table, Marcello asked his father Justo:
“Father, why would Grimwald change direction? I was sure he would try to finish off Ravenna and then come for us!”
“Marcello, there is a power struggle for the throne of the Kingdom of Italy, and apparently Grimwald, with his forces, is going to be the kingmaker.”
Tribun
e Gregorios had already sat down and listened to the rest that Justo had to say, and then replied:
“He goes to Papia and becomes even stronger. He has just postponed his tour to these lands for a season or two. But he will be back for us, and he will be much more powerful. We have just bought ourselves a bit more time, nothing more…”
As Tribune Gregorios was looking very pessimistic, Polo called Primo to the side.
“Primo… tomorrow we all go back. I will stop in Rivo Alto for a day. You have to bring me to Adalulf… I have something for him to do…”
A massive army was moving along the Padanian Plains in North Italy. Toward the front of the armed forces, there were the leading horsemen. It was Grimwald, heading at a leisurely pace toward Papia, the Longobard capital. His right hand man Bertwalt approached on horse.
“Duke Grimwald! The Duke of Turin, Garipald, came to greet us!”
“Let him approach, but we keep on moving,” Grimwald replied.
Bertwalt gave a signal, and escorted by a couple of Grimwald’s horsemen, Duke Garipald approached.
“Grimwald, the great Duke of Beneventum! It is finally a pleasure to meet you!” Duke Garipald then introduced himself.
Grimwald barely acknowledged Duke Garipald’s words and returned the greeting with minimal courtesy.
“Likewise…”
After a moment of awkward silence, Duke Garipald continued:
“I am stunned by the size of your army! I don’t think King Rothari’s army was this large!”
Bertwalt began to reply to Duke Garipald, since, knowing Grimwald, he figured he was not going to entertain the other duke with small talk.
“It’s not just Beneventum, on the way up the armies of the Duke of Spoletium and the Duke of Tuscia conceded to submit and follow Duke Grimwald north…”
“Oh! I am glad you decided to come to Godepert’s aid,” Duke Garipald replied, “…and that all the dukes down the peninsula decided to join in!”
Neither Bertwalt nor Grimwald replied, so Duke Garipald continued after another awkward pause.
“You see, Godepert’s brother, Perctarit, established a parallel regal court in Midland… you see, Perctarit is supported by the Catholic faction, while Godepert is supported by the Arians…”
Grimwald could not care less about all these useless details about the political factions behind the two spineless heirs. And he was starting to lose respect for Duke Garipald for bringing up such pandering talk. Duke Garipald sensed Grimwald’s displeasure, so he decided to change topic.
“Duke Grimwald… in order to thank you for your support, King Godepert has decided to offer his young sister as your bride…”
Grimwald finally was intrigued enough to reply:
“Hmm! What’s her name?”
“Her name is Giselberga… and she is a beauty!”
The massive army arrived in Papia. Grimwald, followed by Bertwalt and Duke Garipald, and a swarm of warriors, walked through the King’s palace. Regal guards were clearing the path. Grimwald entered the hall where King Godepert was waiting, and kept walking. Duke Garipald attempted to announce him, but he was also a bit nervous by the lack of formality:
“King Godepert! Duke Grimwald has arrived…”
“Duke Grimwald! It is a pleasure to…” King Godepert began to reply.
King Godepert was interrupted by the fact that his personal guards were blocking Grimwald to advance with so many soldiers too close to the King. Bertwalt gave an order, and Grimwald’s warriors quickly neutralized the regal guards. Grimwald continued toward King Godepert, he took out his sword, and sliced the King with a mortal blow. Godepert was so taken by surprise that he had not even had a chance to put up a decent fight.
Grimwald took off the crown from the head of Godepert, who was lying motionless on the ground. He put the crown on his head and sat on the throne. He then looked at Duke Garipald:
“Duke Garipald?”
“Yes my King?”
“Go to Midland, and tell Perctarit that I give him a head start to flee and take refuge with the Franks across the Alps.”
“Yes, my King!”
Duke Garipald turned around and started running out the palace hall, in complete shock for the abrupt ending to months, if not years, of useless squabbling over the throne. He came to an immediate stop and turned around when he heard Grimwald calling:
“Oh, Duke Garipald! Another thing…”
“Yes, my King!”
“Before you go, have my bride Giselberga come over. I would like to meet her before our wedding.”
“Right away, my King!”
It was an early spring afternoon with a clear blue sky, and the fishermen had long returned to their villages. The sun was shining on the choppy waves crashing onto a wild beach. Seagulls took off in flight, disturbed by horses galloping on this secluded part of the outer banks. They were armored horses, carrying Longobard warriors armed to the teeth. It was Adalulf and a dozen of his men. They were heading toward the small fishing village of Metamauco visible at the end of the long sandy island.
As the warriors entered Metamauco, screaming villagers attempted to flee the pillaging by finding refuge on board the fishing boats. The warriors were destroying anything they could. They set a hut on fire. The men who did not manage to flee were beaten and held down to the ground, while a few screaming women were dragged inside huts.
Near the shore, three small sailing boats approached, and at the helm of one of them was Marcello, Justo’s son, who yelled:
“What is happening? You are being attacked! Do you need help?”
From the village several voices were heard screaming ‘Yes! Help!’ Marcello gave orders to the three sail boats to moor by the village, and eight young men disembarked. They pulled out their swords and attacked the Longobards. At that point, Adalulf yelled to his men:
“Retreat! Retreat!”
All Longobards jumped onto their horses and galloped back the way they had come. Marcello and his men attempted to chase them on foot, but they could not advance too far on the sandy terrain. They turned around and offered some help to the people of Metamauco. However, at one point, after only a few minutes, Marcello announced:
“We are going to sail to the other end of the island and intercept their boats! They will not escape!”
Marcello and his men then boarded their sailboats and departed as quickly as they had come.
At the other end of the island, by the inlet across from Lido Albo, Polo’s ship was anchored very close to shore in a small cove. Half of his deck was removed, leaving a wide ramp to the hull. The deck boards were resting on the edge of the ship to create a ramp to the sandy shore.
Adalulf’s gang arrived and without slowing down very much they climbed onto the ramp and disappeared inside the hull. Once the ramp was brought on board, the two sailors pulled up the anchor and they sailed off toward Canareclo.
The sun was setting behind a low-lying island covered in reeds. There was a campground with a few open fireplaces. There were livestock and horses grazing among the reeds, and Polo’s ship was anchored near shore. This was Canareclo, where Adalulf and his people settled. Adalulf and Polo were sitting around a fire.
“Polo… I felt obligated to provide this service, given your hospitality toward my people in the lagoon…”
“And it is our pleasure to have you among us!” Polo replied.
“But if I may offer my advice, this is not the right setting for this kind of action. The lagoon protects you from outsiders, but it does not protect you from each other. You are all vulnerable to retaliation.”
“Yes, but Mauro had it coming…” Polo replied.
“Listen to me, I speak from experience. You either go all the way and kill off the whole village, and by the way, it would be even easier to organize, or you solve your matters in a peaceful way.�
��
At that moment, Marcello arrived.
“Marcello! How did it go?” Polo greeted the youngster.
“I think they got scared pretty good. No casualties, but lots of damage!” Marcello replied.
“How did they perceive you?” Polo asked.
“They were happy to see us, but we left almost right away, I did not feel comfortable staying there…”
“Great job! You are going to be the defensive force of this lagoon. I know it! Now, I hate to leave you right when you just arrived, but I need to head back to Heraclia before Mauro gets there, and tonight there is a good breeze. But, Marcello, stay for a while and talk to Adalulf. You have a lot to learn from this man about the art of war.”
They saluted each other, as Polo boarded his ship and sailed to Heraclia.
Polo, Aurelia, Clelia and little Manlio were dining around their table in their house in Heraclia.
“Polo, so are the new ships done?” Aurelia asked.
“Just about! It’s still early in the spring, but we should have them sailing in a couple of weeks.”
“And then where do you go? Istria?”
“As a first stop, for sure, but if they hold well and travel fast, the plan is to at least go down to Dalmatia… and perhaps further down the coast.”
“Aren’t you afraid of pirates?” Aurelia asked.
“I am planning to bring armed guards as well!” Polo reassured.
“Armed guards!? You are taking Longobards onto the sea?”
“I was hoping to bring Venetian armed guards. You remember Marcello, Justo’s son… he has the right personality for it…”
“So you will sail down the Adriatic and we won’t see you until fall?” Aurelia complained.
“No way! I plan to take all of you to Istria for the summer!”
A Byzantine guard approaching the house interrupted Aurelia and Polo:
“Polo Licio! Tribune Gregorios wants to see you immediately!”
“Uh-oh… here we go!” Polo sighed.
“Here we go, what?” Aurelia asked a bit confused.
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