His eyes closed, Adalulf was envisioning his four sons reaching out to him, helping him get up. As he serenely walked toward them in a white, silent surrounding, Adalulf felt a warm and slightly dense liquid pouring over his face. He still could not hear a sound, and he wondered what kind of honey the angels were pouring on him. He opened his mouth to savor the angelic nectar. It was a familiar taste… it was blood! He opened his eyes and his vision was blurry. He still could not hear any sound. As his sight regained focus, he saw that it was blood gushing out of the slashed throat of the giant Bavarian who had collapsed over him. He was starting to regain his hearing when he noticed a foot kicking the massive Bavarian’s body off him and to the side. Despite everything around still sounding muffled, Duke Alachis’ screaming was so loud that Adalulf could hear the words:
“Now we are even, Wulf! I finally got to save your life too!”
Duke Alachis laughed while standing over Adalulf with his sword still dripping blood from the Bavarian giant’s neck. His face turned serious right away though:
“Get up, Wulf! We are not done yet!”
Adalulf rolled on his stomach, and with great effort, he pulled himself up to his knees. He looked around. Duke Alachis was fighting another Bavarian, but there were twice as many Longobards now, and the fate of the battle had turned. One leg at the time, with even more effort, Adalulf stood up. He was dizzy and everything was still spinning. He started walking and spotted a sword on the ground. He kneeled down again to pick the sword up and then got up again. He was staggering, with his beard still dripping blood from the Bavarian who almost had choked him to death. He was slowly regaining strength and focus, but by then the Longobards had won. Most Bavarians fled, and some, who were trapped inside the walls, surrendered and were being held as prisoners. Duke Alachis and his men were cheering:
“We did it! Adalulf, can you believe it!? We did it!”
“No, I cannot believe it…” Adalulf replied. “We cheated death, Alachis…”
A young Longobard warrior approached Duke Alachis and said:
“Duke Alachis, what do we do with the prisoners?”
“We don’t have space to keep them… just kill them!”
“No! Don’t kill them!” Adalulf interrupted, in a feeble voice holding his aching throat. “I know someone who will pay for them!”
“But to keep prisoners we need to keep men here to guard them!” Duke Alachis objected. “And we are not done yet! I must go defeat King Perctarit once and for all!”
“How many prisoners?” Adalulf asked.
“I don’t know… around fifty?” the young Longobard warrior replied.
“Tie them all up, put them in a hall, and leave twenty men here to guard them!” Adalulf ordered. “We are not going to lose a battle because of twenty men!”
“You are right! And there might not even be a battle…” Duke Alachis agreed. “I just need to show some strength and have King Perctarit plead for his life! Now let’s go!”
Duke Alachis gave the order for twenty warriors to remain and guard the prisoners. The rest hopped on their horses and started galloping down the valley.
They rode at sustained speed for about an hour until they spotted King Perctarit and his army in the distance.
“Alachis… They are still more numerous than us…” Adalulf warned. “They retreated to avoid a bloodbath, but if they are cornered they can be dangerous!”
“You might be right…”
“Alachis, we cheated death today! Let’s not taunt our destiny thinking we are invincible!”
“I tell you what Adalulf…” Duke Alachis replied. “If we advance too close, they will see we are in smaller numbers. I will stay behind with my men, barely visible in the distance. You gallop ahead alone, and request a negotiating meeting between King Perctarit and me.”
Adalulf did not even reply. He nodded and started riding toward King Perctarit’s army. As Adalulf was leaving, Duke Alachis yelled at him:
“Tell him I will wait at the northern tip of Lake Gard! It’s just west of here over those hills!”
Further down the valley, as Perctarit and his warriors were trotting away, a lone horseman was spotted advancing quickly toward them. Being by himself, Adalulf was not seen as a threat, and they imagined it was an effort to negotiate a truce.
As Adalulf became more visible and observable, they were all a bit shocked by his appearance. His scar from Grimwald’s sword was still visible: a vertical cut from his lip to his eyebrow with a visible slash on his cheek. More frightening was all the coagulated blood he had all over his beard and face. It appeared as if he had just feasted on some poor Bavarian body directly with his mouth. As he was getting too close, King Perctarit himself shouted:
“Stop right there and identify yourself!”
“I am Adalulf!”
“Adalulf who?” Duke Garipald asked.
“The Adalulf!”
Adalulf had always been well known among Longobards in the east. Even if not a duke, his lordship of a central town like Patavium made his presence known to the surrounding dukes. However, until a year ago no Longobard nobleman from the west would have known who he was. Now he was famous. He was the one that caused Grimwald’s death, even though officially Grimwald died of excessive bloodletting. He was now recognizable without specifying his hometown or Duchy. They were speechless because of his fearsome appearance, as he looked even more terrifying than they had imagined. Maybe Duke Alachis did not send Adalulf to negotiate, they feared. Maybe he sent a ferocious madman to fight everyone by himself. Adalulf eventually broke the awkward silence:
“King Perctarit, you should know who I am, since it is thanks to me that you are now King!”
King Perctarit felt more comfortable. Although he was fleeing a battle he was supposed to win, he just had been called ‘king’, and so he found the courage to reply:
“Adalulf, do you have a message for me?”
“Yes. Duke Alachis would like to meet you to negotiate. It has to be a small meeting without armies. This to avoid a potential conflict.”
“Very well, I shall meet Duke Alachis.”
“He is waiting for you at the tip of Lake Gard. It is a short ride exactly east of here.
“My King, what if it is an ambush?” Duke Garipald admonished.
“We will take our precautions…” King Perctarit reassured, “…and Duke Garipald, why don’t you come with me to this meeting… It is late afternoon now. We shall meet Duke Alachis there, first thing in the morning…”
It was early morning at the northern shores of Lake Gard. Four horses were visible, enjoying each other’s company. Nearby, four men had just met, and they were enjoying their company a little less. It was King Perctarit and Duke Garipald on one side, and Duke Alachis and Adalulf on the other.
“So, Duke Alachis, what is it that you propose?” King Perctarit asked.
“King Perctarit, I am offering to not chase you all the way to Papia or Midland, or wherever you reside, and dethrone you…”
“That’s very generous of you…” King Perctarit replied, accepting Duke Alachis’ humor. “Now, just because you won a battle you think you can march into my territory and conquer everyone?”
“King Perctarit… yesterday just my men from Tridentum have defeated your army and the Bavarian army. When I come to conquer the western lands, I will bring with me the Duke of Friuli, the Duke of Ceneda, the Duke of Tarvisium, the Duke of Vicetia and the Duke of Verona. All of us put together… yes I am confident we can defeat you Catholics…”
“Very well, and in exchange for being so kind and not chasing me to Papia, what do you request?” King Perctarit asked.
“The Duchy of Brixia.”
King Perctarit and Duke Garipald looked at each other a bit surprised. Adalulf was surprised himself. He had not even had a chance to ask what his plans were, but
Duke Alachis made it sound as if he were the second coming of Grimwald. Then he just had such a modest and relatively insignificant request… It was almost hard to believe.
“So… you want the Duchy of Brixia…” King Perctarit double checked. “…Meaning just the Duchy west of the Duchy of Verona… this one, on this side of Lake Gard?”
King Perctarit pointed to the west side of the shore of the lake they were standing by.
“Yes, we all know what the boundaries of the Duchy of Brixia are…” an annoyed Duke Alachis replied. “…so, no need to discuss the details.”
“Very well then, you shall have the Duchy of Brixia…” King Perctarit conceded.
After King Perctarit and Duke Garipald left, Adalulf could not help but ask Duke Alachis:
“Alachis… Yesterday you were unstoppable! It seemed like you would have chased King Perctarit to the end of the world. It was a sounding defeat for them… I think they would have conceded more, because you made some very credible threats!”
“Ah, Adalulf! The other dukes would have never followed me anywhere! It’s a life time that I have tried to organize them, but if they came on an expedition with me, it would be to have a chance to stab me on the back!”
“Fine, I see that an expedition to conquer the whole Kingdom would not have been feasible… but you could have still asked for more than just Brixia… You just gave him a resounding defeat!”
“You see, Brixia is right next to my domain, so I can easily control it. And we are taking land from the Catholic Longobards! Any further and it would have been impossible for me to manage, and I cannot really trust any other duke…”
“Well said and well done, Alachis! That’s why you are a Duke! You know how to handle yourself not only in battle but also at the negotiating table!”
“Speaking of dukes, you are duke material. We shall make you Duke of Patavium!” Duke Alachis suggested.
“There was a time that my ambitions asked just for that…” Adalulf replied. “…But with time I came to accept just being under the Duchy of Vicetia. I was the undisputed lord of Patavium anyhow, so the title does not matter much. De facto I was never a subject to the duke of Vicetia…”
“How about now? Now you are an important warrior! No one would question this!”
“Again, titles are not important to me anymore…” Adalulf dismissed Duke Alachis suggestion once more. “But I do need your help, and that’s why I ventured all the way up to Tridentum. I need to take Patavium back, and I need you to back me up…”
A Ravenna ship was anchored in front of Metamauco, and the ship’s launch-boat was returning on board with Mauro in it. He was meeting with Ioannicio, who was visiting the lagoon.
“Sir Ioannicio, welcome to Metamauco,” Mauro greeted. “I am sorry we do not have a proper dock for you to land and come visit. It’s just a modest village…”
“That is fine, Mauro…” Ioannicio replied. “I am mostly interested in seeing the damage of the fire, and we need a local to navigate the inner shoals…”
“It is my honor to be your guide.”
As they approached the basin in front of Olivolo, Mauro signaled the ship captain that that was far enough.
“I haven’t navigated such a large ship so deep into the lagoon,” Mauro warned. “I am not sure how shallow the water is here, so we better not go any further or we risk running aground.”
“But the locals are clearly able to dock,” Ioannicio objected.
“Yes, they know the turns of the underwater canals. I know how to move around with my fishing boat, but I am hesitant to try with such a large ship… Anyway, as you can see, there is nothing much to see. Everything has been flattened…”
“That’s it? I don’t see anything but burned down wood! I cannot imagine people making a living in such desolate islands!” Ioannicio said astonished.
“You must believe me, sir,” Mauro assured the Ravennate, “just until before spring there were three bustling villages close to one another. Together, it was like a town, a trading town!”
“I believe you. I know what they must have made with trade…” Ioannicio replied. “It just seems like the Longobards have already taken care of them… But where are the villagers?”
“They have fled mostly to Torcellum and Equilium. Until the traders come back, I don’t believe they will set foot back here.”
“Very well, let’s go see Torcellum and Equilium!”
“Not with this ship!” Mauro warned. “Those villages are reachable only with smaller row boats. With this ship we can just exit the inlet and reach Heraclia and Grado by sea.”
With his lame leg, Ioannicio did not feel comfortable in small row boats. He already chose not to land in Metamauco as he did not even want to board the ship’s launch-boat. He was also going to skip Torcellum and Equilium, so they sailed out the Lido Albo’s inlet, and then ventured toward Heraclia.
In Heraclia, Father Leontio spotted a Ravenna ship approaching port. It was not a cargo ship, and he did not have a good feeling about it. The Byzantine presence in Heraclia had always been of tribunes, and although technically they were under the Exarch of Ravenna, there had never been the need for direct contact. Communication had always happened via the Tribune, but now that Tribune Stefanos was gone, their defense was precarious. He decided to go see Aurelia and walked hurriedly to her house:
“Aurelia!”
“Hello Father Leontio, what is the matter?”
“I think it’s a great day to go visit your mother in Equilium!”
“What is happening?”
“Nothing, but just a precaution. There is a Ravenna ship approaching port, and we have absolutely no defense. After what happened in Rivo Alto, I just do not want to take any unnecessary risk!”
“Fine, I was planning to go there sooner or later this summer anyway. Paulina is there as well…”
“I have a row boat ready. Get Manlio and Clelia and meet me at the canal. Don’t worry about packing. There is really not much time.”
Once they docked in Heraclia, this time Ioannicio disembarked the ship. He was still unimpressed as the port was just as desolate, with very few people and no soldiers. It was completely unprotected, but there was also very little to protect, it seemed.
“Mauro, this is not what I was expecting…” Ioannicio was perplexed. “There are still stories from last year about Venetian traders in Kerkyra. This is little more than a fishing village!”
“Believe me, when the men are here the town has a different feel. It is definitely becoming a rival to Ravenna.”
“There is not even anyone here to greet us, no priest, no Bishop, no… ‘Duke’!”
“I am telling you, sir Ioannicio, that self-proclaimed ‘Duke’, Polo Licio… he is a menace…”
“Perhaps, but I don’t see it,” Ioannicio replied. We will spend the night here in Heraclia, and tomorrow we will deal with Grado.”
The next day Ioannicio reached Grado, and Patriarch Cristoforo and Saverio coldly greeted him.
“Patriarch Cristoforo! It is a pleasure to meet you in person!” Ioannicio introduced himself.
“Likewise…” Patriarch Cristoforo indifferently replied.
“As you may know, as the official notary of Exarch Theodoros, I chose to come and deliver these two parchments directly to you for a very simple reason…”
“Which is?” Saverio asked.
“Well, we have never heard any replies from the previous orders from the Exarch!”
“I do not take religious orders from a military man,” Patriarch Cristoforo replied, “and the Exarch is only the military commander of Byzantine forces in Italy…”
“I understand that this island of Grado is more on the Illyrian coast, rather than on the Italian peninsula,” Ioannicio interrupted, “but are you suggesting the Exarch’s domain does not include Grado?”
“No, I am stating that I do not take religious orders from the Exarch!”
“Patriarch Cristoforo,” Ioannicio continued, “I am very familiar with the content of those letters, because I drafted those parchments myself! Now, all the Exarch had stated was that it is the wish of Emperor Constantinos IV that all patriarchs in Italy are to be subjects to the Pontiff of Rome!”
“Well, then I will wait to hear directly from Pope Vitaliano and see what his new directives are, but also I will wait to hear directly from Emperor Constantinos IV and hear specifically if the Patriarchate of Grado was included in his request!”
“Ha! Well it is implicit!” Ioannicio protested. “If the Exarchate of Ravenna militarily controls all the lands from Ravenna to Istria, including the Venetian lagoon and Grado, it follows that the Emperor implies all patriarchs under this same jurisdiction!”
“It is not that obvious to me,” Patriarch Cristoforo objected. “But again, I will correspond with the Pope only on religious matters, and with the Emperor only regarding how he perceives Grado: is it a Patriarchate of the west, or a Patriarchate of the east.”
“What do you feel? If I may ask,” Ioannicio inquired.
“Of course we belong to the east!” Patriarch Cristoforo quickly replied. “We have a lot more affinities with the Patriarchate of Constantinople than with the Pontiff of Rome! Historically that’s how it always has been!”
Venetians Page 30