“Gregorios is dead!” Aurelia sobbed. “Primo! Tribune Gregorios has been executed in Opterg by Grimwald!”
“I am going there,” Primo said, more determined than ever. “I am going there and I am going to bring my brother back!”
Primo started looking by the docks for a proper boat to row up the Piave River, all the way to Opterg, and get his brother back from Grimwald. He found a boat, hopped on board, and kicked it off the docks, when Patriarch Cristoforo arrived:
“Primo! Primo wait! What are you doing?”
“I am going to get my brother, and I cannot believe you let him go!” Primo screamed at the Patriarch, holding him responsible.
“Primo, you cannot go up the Piave! It’s full of Grimwald’s Longobards up to the edge of the lagoon! You will never reach Opterg alive!”
“Then I will go the back way from Altinum. These are my marshlands! Those are my woods! I know them better than anyone! I can get to Altinum and then move toward Opterg until I find Polo! I am going now if it is not already too late!”
“Primo! What should the rest of us do?” Marcello asked.
“They won’t attack us anymore, because Polo surrendered himself,” Primo answered. “So you can go back and load the ships with salt!”
“But Primo!” The Patriarch protested. “Gregorios is dead! Polo is gone! We need you to stay! We need a leader for our people!”
The Patriarch’s words reached Primo’s ears, but he was not turning back. He was furiously rowing the keelless boat upstream, helped by a rising tide. He was not looking back.
Father Leontio and Saverio were sitting at the bow of the boat, while Polo was standing at the stern, maneuvering the single oar to navigate up the Piave River. They were not in a hurry, of course. No one was looking forward to this moment, but they also had a lot to talk about, so Polo was rowing at a leisurely pace.
They finally spotted the Longobard’s army, and Bertwalt stood out among the horsemen, waiting for Polo’s arrival.
“Are you Polo Licio?” Bertwalt asked.
“That would be me…”
“I am Bertwalt! I am surprised you came! But I am glad! I was not looking forward to fighting knee deep in this cold water!”
Polo approached the riverbank, and handed the oar to Saverio. He hopped onto the shore and turned around to say good-bye to his two good friends.
“Polo, I want to thank you for doing this for all of us!” Saverio said. “You are a hero, and we will always remember you for your courageous sacrifice!”
“My dear Polo!” Father Leontio added. “Remember, be strong! God is with you! I have faith in you, and I know you can make them reason! Don’t give up!”
Polo waved at them, and then turned and started walking up the steep riverbank toward Bertwalt. The Longobard commander handed Polo a horse’s reins, and once he mounted it, Bertwalt had Polo follow him escorted by three other Longobard warriors.
After a few minutes’ ride, Polo noticed that they were headed westward toward the sunset, while Opterg was north.
“Bertwalt! Aren’t we going to Opterg?”
“Opterg is no more, Polo… Right now our army is still stationed there, around the most gigantic bonfire I have ever seen… and believe me, we have set on fire a few towns before…”
“So, where are we going?”
“I am taking you to Grimwald. He needed some time by himself and decided to camp further to the west, at some ruins of what must have been an important town some time ago…”
“Altinum?”
“If you say so… I am not familiar with this land… I am from Beneventum!”
They kept walking, until sundown, and it was already dark when they spotted, glowing in the light of a small campfire, some white stone ruins. They had reached Altinum. Next to the fire, Grimwald sat eating a rabbit he had been roasting. Grimwald acknowledged them as Bertwalt and his men approached, bringing Polo with them.
“Grimwald! You have grown so tall!” Polo greeted him with a condescending remark.
Polo had no idea what Grimwald’s intentions were, so he figured he might as well make fun of the feared Longobard warrior, pointing out that Grimwald had obviously grown, since Polo last saw him when Grimwald was twelve.
“You may call me King Grimwald… Polo of Licio…”
Grimwald was in no mood for joking, and Bertwalt and his men sensed the intensity emanating from their King, so they dismounted and started setting up camp a little off to the side. They took Polo’s horse as well, leaving him on foot standing next to the much feared King of Italy. Polo decided to continue with a friendly approach:
“May I sit? King Grimwald?”
“Yes, you may…”
“May I have some dinner as well, King Grimwald?”
“No, you may not.”
Polo sat down and watched Grimwald leaving uneaten half a rabbit. Grimwald paused and then signaled to Bertwalt that there was enough food for him and his men. As Bertwalt took away the dinner from in front of a hungry Polo, Grimwald began to speak:
“Polo, do you know why I decided to spare your lagoon? You are aware that I could go over there and sink all those villages of yours, right?”
“Because you are a merciful king?” Polo replied.
“… no… it’s because six years ago you took me there and I realized something. I don’t know how, but you Venetians are managing to make a living out of that damp place, and I did see the potential.”
“Thank you…” Polo replied.
“If I conquered and destroyed you, that land… I mean, that marshland, it would be worthless to me. No Longobard in their right mind would settle there. And if they did, they would not be able to do what you are doing. That is, create a trade route for my Kingdom.”
“I am very relieved to hear that…”
“And do you know why I did not obliterate Ravenna the same way I did with Forum Popilii and Opterg?”
“For the same reasons?”
“No… I want to expel the Byzantines from all of Italy… but the fact is – and this I realized only after conquering the throne – the thing is that we Longobards are dependent on Mediterranean trade, and our main foe is holding the keys to it! Unlike my predecessors, I am now strong enough to destroy the Greeks, but I can’t! …or at least not yet, not until…”
“Not until you have alternate access to the Mediterranean Sea!” Polo finished Grimwald’s sentence. “Before you go and destroy Ravenna you need another trade route, so you do not sever the commercial ties!”
“You are perspicacious, Polo… So, instead of annihilating the Venetian lagoon, I am having you become my subjects, vassals of the Kingdom of Italy.”
Polo was in no position to negotiate, as he did not know what to expect. He was still elated that his head was not rolling, and besides, all he cared about was to be able to engage in commerce. If he could be friends with the Longobards on the landside, and with the Byzantines on the seaside, that was the best possible scenario for a merchant.
“I accept your merciful offer, my wise King Grimwald!” Polo answered. “Only one thing… I am not in a position to decide in the name of my people, nor to give marching orders to the Exarch of Ravenna…”
“You go and tell the Patriarch and whoever else that this is the nonnegotiable condition. I decide who will be my vassal, not they. You will be my Duke for the lagoon, and that’s that!”
“As you wish, my King…”
“Good! I am glad you are not stupid… Now, let me see if Bertwalt has left you some dinner… I take good care of my vassals…”
Grimwald had purposely spoken aloud, and without needing to explicitly ask, Bertwalt had returned with what was left of the rabbit: just a little meat still dangling from the rabbit bones was all that remained. Polo was devouring what was left, when Grimwald surprised him with an additional
request:
“Oh, I almost forgot… I believe a Longobard by the name of Adalulf is vacationing among you people?”
Polo knew where this was going, and he was hesitant at first, but then he realized he had no options, and lying would be very ill advised in such precarious conditions.
“Yes…” Polo answered.
“Very well, as my vassal I want you to deliver him to me… alive!”
“Ahem, I will certainly do that, but he is also surrounded by his men, and I have not yet imposed myself militarily among my people… so it would take a little bit of time…”
“Don’t you worry. Right now I am taking my army east to defeat the Avars. I have a score to settle with them… They did kill my father in front of my eyes… Believe me, when I am done with them, you won’t hear about the Avars anymore…”
“…I don’t doubt that…”
“Anyway, I am not planning to be back until the end of summer, so on my return I expect you to deliver Adalulf to me. The fall is a better season for wolf hunting anyhow… heh, heh, heh…”
Polo did not reply. He was sucking on the rabbit’s bones and wondering how he could pull this one off. Back in Heraclia, he would have to give a different version, and then there was Adalulf… He would have to betray a person who was practically his guest and that had already provided a valuable service as an enforcer against Mauro and the Metamauco’s fishermen. But on the other hand he saw not only an unexpected safety for his family and community, but also so much potential for his commercial dreams… Polo then chose to change the subject:
“Grimwald… do you know where we are camped?”
Grimwald did not even take notice that Polo had forgotten to refer to him as ‘King’, because this strange question had distracted him.
“In the middle of a bunch of ruins, I guess? This probably used to be a city, much like Opterg?”
“Yes, this is Altinum, or ‘was’ I guess I should say. This, together with Opterg, Patavium and Ateste, used to be a great trading town, even before the Roman Empire!”
“Ok… if you say so…”
Grimwald was not too interested, but he had already concluded what he wanted to obtain from this encounter, so he let Polo speak his mind.
“And farther down in the lagoon there was the port of Altinum, which was essentially a city on water,” Polo continued. “You see, it’s a natural place for having a vibrant town: land meets water, river trade meets sea trade, north meets south. This is the natural meeting place for traders coming from all over the Mediterranean and coming down from north of the mountains…”
“I think I see what you mean… you want to recreate the old Altinum port!”
Grimwald was smiling at Polo, as he was just appreciating how different the two of them were. He was a king, a man of war, a man that conquered other men. Now he understood that Polo had a completely different set of interests. He was not an inferior person in the warrior scale of things. He was to be measured according to a different scale. He was a merchant, he liked trading, he was enthusiastic not about conquering, but about dealing and exchanging. Polo was staring into the fire, as if in a trance as he thought of his plans, his dreams.
“It’s only natural you see?” Polo continued. “People from around this marshland were great traders even before the Roman Empire, simply because of our location. We had to. Now, after decades, if not centuries of devastation, it is only natural that we return to be what we once were. For us Venetians, this is a second beginning…”
“It all sounds very graceful and poetic, Polo of Licio. So lyrical that you are putting me to sleep. I am going to rest now, and tomorrow morning you can return to Heraclia with the news about your vassalage.”
Grimwald got up and walked toward Bertwalt and the others who were sleeping on the ground using as blankets the furs they kept as horse saddles. Grimwald tossed a fur toward Polo, then got his own and went to lie down. Polo remained alone, sitting in front of the dying fire.
The next morning Polo was abruptly awakened by Bertwalt grabbing Polo’s blanket and tossing it back onto the horse that carried Polo the day before.
“Wake up, Venetian! We are taking off, and you are on your own!”
Polo had had trouble falling asleep the night before and he must have slept just a couple of hours. As he was getting up, he noticed that the Longobards had already mounted their horses, and they were carrying away his horse.
“What about me? Are you leaving me without a horse?” Polo asked.
“We are going northeast toward Opterg to meet the rest of the army,” Grimwald answered. “You are going southeast toward Heraclia. We are going in different directions, and the horse is mine. Remember, you are the vassal. You give me things, and not the other way around!”
“Or he can also actually swim directly from right here! I hear he is a specialist at that!” Bertwalt added mockingly.
The group of Longobards laughed at Polo as they departed. They were already a few hundred yards away when Grimwald turned around and yelled at Polo:
“Duke Polo! Remember the second part of our deal! I will be back from Avar land at the end of summer, and I need my prey ready for wolf hunting!”
Polo watched them disappear over the horizon. He then started slowly walking toward the lagoon. Perhaps he could find an abandoned boat and row to Heraclia. That would definitely be better than walking. He reached the edges of the lagoon and he indeed spotted a boat. It appeared as if there was someone aboard sleeping all curled up, wrapped in a wool cape. He came closer and woke up the passenger:
“Primo?”
“Polo! I found you!” Primo exclaimed, still waking up.
“What in the world are you doing here?” Polo asked.
“Yesterday evening I came to rescue you, but I came toward Altinum to avoid the Longobards around the Piave. But last night was so dark without the moon, that I was better off waiting for morning light before proceeding…”
“Well, you did find me, so I guess technically you did rescue me, so… thank you!”
“How did you escape? How are you still alive?” Primo asked.
“We are a few hours away from Heraclia… I have plenty of time to tell you…”
Polo hopped aboard, took the oar and started rowing while Primo was still lying down inside the boat.
“But I tell you right away…” Polo continued, “…we won’t be able to tell the full story to the rest. We need to give them an alternate explanation, because I am not sure they would accept…”
The two brothers navigated southeast toward Heraclia, with the early morning sun in their eyes.
Chapter 15
VENETIANS ON SPRING BREAK
Exarch Theodoros was pacing agitatedly around the hall of his palace in Ravenna. He was trying to dictate a letter to his notary Ioannicio, who was sitting at his desk with a feather in his hand. Before him lay a leather parchment.
“This is ridiculous!” Exarch Theodoros thundered. “I mean, I understand the new Emperor’s strategy to appease the Pope, but this reply we got from Pope Vitaliano is quite unacceptable!”
“Well, that’s what losing the independence of Ravenna’s diocese implies…” Ioannicio explained. “The Pope cannot only pick new bishops in our land, but essentially he will control the tax system, the judicial system and the town’s stock of wheat and other cereals…”
“Leaving me with only the military duties is like giving me the burden of the expenses without having control of the revenues!” the angry Exarch Theodoros blustered.
At that moment, the Exarch’s aide entered.
“Sorry for interrupting, my lord, but there is a peasant that would like the privilege of having a moment of your attention…”
“Since when can peasants walk up to the palace and expect to speak to me!? Send him away! I have important matters to resolve…”
> “Yes, my lord. It’s just that he traveled from another jurisdiction…” The aide continued. “He is a fisherman from Metamauco, at the edges of the Venetian lagoon…”
“Why won’t he go bother Tribune Gregorios?” Exarch Theodoros snapped back. “Bah, there might be some news from those gnat-infested marshlands… but I don’t want to meet with a fisherman!”
“My lord, would you like me to receive this fisherman?” Ioannicio offered. “I can screen him for you…”
“Yes, good idea, why don’t you do that, and in the meantime I will think of what to reply to the Pope… I must be diplomatic, but firm…”
Ioannicio got up with some difficulty, leaning on his crutch, but as he was stepping away from the desk, he replied to the aide:
“You can bring this fisherman into my office, but have him wait a half hour first.”
Ioannicio slowly limped out of the hall and his crutch clicked along the stone floor.
The aide entered Ioannicio’s office to announce the fisherman. Mauro of Metamauco arrived, while a distracted Ioannicio sat at his desk.
“Please sit! What brings you all the way to Ravenna?” Ioannicio began.
“Thank you for taking the time to receive me, my lord. My name is Mauro from Metamauco…”
“Mauro, I am not the Exarch. I am his notary Ioannicio, but you can tell me your issues and I will report them to the Exarch…”
“Yes, I am very troubled with what is happening in the lagoon… You see, we are infested with Longobards that are offered protection by this scoundrel, Polo of Heraclia…”
“Did you say Longobards ‘in’ the lagoon? Or did you mean sieging the rivers that flow into the lagoon?”
“No sir, I mean living in the islands in the lagoon. Polo of Heraclia and his brother are offering them protection. They use Longobard mercenaries to enforce their will on us poor fishermen. These Longobards came onto my island and pillaged my village…”
“That is unacceptable! But shouldn’t you report this to Tribune Gregorios?”
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