Venetians

by Lodovico Pizzati

  Adalulf was completely immersed in a hot pool surrounded by old Roman ruins. Judging by the remaining structures, Aponus must have been an important center for the people of Patavium during the Roman period. Perhaps even before that. Adalulf had no understanding of what culture preceded the Longobards. He just knew that his people inherited a land devastated by the Goths and the Huns, a land once flourishing under the Roman Empire. To Adalulf the Roman civilization was only a remote concept, but it still pervaded so many things in his contemporary society. In these soothing moments of rest, while bathing in the hot waters he was staring at these statues, at these inscriptions on the walls he could not understand, and he could not help but ponder his own ignorance. Those Romans from antiquity were not there to challenge him, but they had left a legacy that still resonated. Adalulf was aging and he could not help wonder what legacy he would be leaving behind. He was not even sure if there would be a legacy for the Longobards. His friend, Duke Alachis, seemed to be the last uncorrupted vestige of what it meant to be a Longobard. He was the staunch defender of Arianism, the religion of their forefathers, and of all other customs their grandparents brought down from the deep north. But when Adalulf looked around, while the land was scattered by thriving Longobard villages everywhere, these Longobards were assimilating more and more with the local culture. The prevailing tongue was a mix between Vulgar Latin and his native Germanic language. Catholicism was slowly seeping in, and Adalulf himself, when he was forced to flee into the lagoon, had also assimilated. And he liked it. Old Adalulf was very different from the young Adalulf who fought by King Rothari’s side.

  Longobards aside, Adalulf wondered about his personal legacy. His military ambitions had slowly died after he lost his older sons. He caved in, and now all he had left was Aldo, his growing boy that the Venetians held as ransom to fend off Adalulf’s retaliation. As he was thinking about Aldo, a guard interrupted Adalulf’s thoughts:

  “Lord Adalulf, your wife has finally arrived!”

  Adalulf immediately rose from the hot steamy water. The air was gelid, especially in contrast with the thermal water, and he quickly wrapped his mantle around himself. As soon as he was covered, he saw Hermetruda entering:

  “Lulfy!”

  Hermetruda lunged at Adalulf and hugged him tight.

  “I cannot believe you survived!” Hermetruda continued. “I thought the worst had happened to you! I was devastated…”

  “I missed you too, Trudy! Tell me, how is Aldo?”

  “Last spring the Venetians had taken him with them down south.” Hermetruda explained. “They did not trust leaving him while they were gone.”

  “But he is still too young for those Mediterranean ports!” Adalulf protested.

  “Fortunately everything went well,” Hermetruda continued. “Primo had been taking good care of him, and Aldo is very fond of Primo. He looks up to him and always talks about Primo and how he wants to become a merchant too…”

  “I guess that’s good, I guess…” Adalulf conceded.

  “But now Primo has left for Constantinople. Polo has taken Aldo to Heraclia, but he was back in Rivo Alto very often this winter and I get to see our son all the time.”

  “I need to see Aldo again too…” Adalulf complained.

  “I spoke to Polo before coming over, and I asked if we can normalize the situation,” Hermetruda explained. “After all, you two are going to be neighbors along the Brint River, and Polo needs that river trading route…”

  “What did Polo say?” Adalulf enquired.

  “He is very diffident. He expects retaliation, so he is keeping Aldo. He is mistrusting of everything, especially since the relationship with Ravenna has irreparably soured…”

  “I know exactly what strings to pull with Polo…” Adalulf replied.

  Adalulf started smiling as he was still hugging his wife tight. By then he had figured out Polo. After traveling with him down to Kerkyra he knew all too well what Polo’s weak spot was. It did not matter how paranoid Polo might be about being attacked. Adalulf knew he would be seeing his young son Aldo very soon.

  “What do you have in mind, Lulfy?”

  “Trudy… you go back to the lagoon and tell Polo that I have fifty blond Bavarian slaves for him. The slaves, plus the reopening of the Brint River trade route. That is what I offer in exchange for having my son back.”

  Hermetruda looked up at a smiling Adalulf a bit surprised about her husband having so many Bavarian prisoners.

  “You have fifty Bavarian prisoners!?” Hermetruda asked incredulous.

  “I need to go to Tridentum and get them from Alachis, but I don’t see any problems… I hope…”

  “Oh, Lulfy! Polo will definitely not refuse that offer! I can’t wait to tell him and see him salivate about the trading potential!”

  “What do you mean ‘you can’t wait to go back and tell him’? You are not going back just yet! We need to get reacquainted!”

  Adalulf dropped his mantle, turned around and hopped back toward the hot spring. Hermetruda laughed watching her old husband jumping into the natural pool, and followed him right in.

  There was a commotion at the Exarch’s palace in Ravenna. Merchants and sailors were just exiting the hall where they had met with Exarch Theodoros and his trusted advisor Ioannicio. They were very upset. Not only one of their peers had been unexpectedly murdered, but also one of their ships had been burned at high sea. As the group exited, the word ‘piracy!’ was being yelled, as well as ‘teach them a lesson!’ and ‘kill them all!’ They were used to having to contend with the Longobards on land, but the sea had always been their safe haven. It was all part of the Byzantine Empire, and the Venetian lagoon was only an extension of people that escaped from Altinum, Opterg and Patavium, their cousins, essentially. Maybe there was some piracy on the Illyrian side of the Adriatic, but having their back and forth trade with Istria disrupted? This was unacceptable.

  Inside the hall, Exarch Theodoros was pacing. He was all worked up by the meeting he had with the merchants. He could feel their anger and he impulsively wanted to act immediately.

  “I cannot believe it, Ioannicio! I cannot believe it! This is absolutely unexpected! How dare they do such thing?”

  “My Exarch, we most certainly cannot ignore such an insult,” Ioannicio responded. “We must notify the Emperor and ask for support as the Venetian lagoon has inexplicably turned to piracy!”

  “No, no, no! That would be silly, Ioannicio, please!” Exarch Theodoros replied. “I cannot bother the Emperor with such a minor issue! I am supposed to take care of these matters for him! He placed me here as Byzantine ruler for Italy. This is a military matter I must resolve myself!”

  “Yes, but it is the middle of winter,” Ioannicio explained. “Most of our military men are in Constantinople defending the capital. We would at least need to ask Byzantium to have our local soldiers back…”

  “What are you saying, Ioannicio? That Ravenna at the moment does not have enough manpower and ships to squash a few glorified fishermen!?”

  “My lord, when I went over there last spring, I realized how it might be a more difficult task. The water is shallow in unexpected points, even for fishing boats. Their main cove is literally in the middle of the lagoon…”

  “So what you are saying is that we can’t just go there with warships because we would not be able to reach their main village?” The Exarch asked.

  “Yes, in addition they have several villages. Bertwalt the Longobard burned everything down, but did not catch a single one of them, and now they are already rebuilding everything, even more than before!”

  “Fine, so we need a more permanent solution to squash them for good, but that would take more time…” The Exarch conceded.

  “Yes, if we have the Emperor ban them from Mediterranean ports, we cut their source of wealth…” Ioannicio insisted.

  “In
addition, if the Longobards allied with the Pope defeat Duke Alachis and the other heretics, we cut off the Venetians’ river trade…”

  “Exactly! This coming spring there will be a second offensive against Duke Alachis. King Perctarit is too pious of a man to be a decent general, but this time around it will be his young son, Prince Cunipert, to lead the offensive.”

  “Ioannicio… I don’t really care!” The Exarch shouted. “I understand we need time for a permanent solution, but I need to act right away and do something! I cannot let my merchants down! They want blood, and they want it now!”

  “Perhaps we can find a way to just punish this Polo Licio…” Ioannicio suggested. “It will not be immediate, but it will be a focused revenge!”

  “No, Ioannicio, I need to act sooner and publicly. I cannot settle for an ambush! I am the Exarch and I need to publicly squash them!”

  “Yes, my lord… as you wish,” Ioannicio conceded. “I will have all able men prepare for a punitive mission…”

  Ioannicio turned around and, while holding on his crutch, he limped out of the room. As he was leaving and not facing the Exarch, his expression was visibly disappointed. He understood Exarch Theodoros needed to make a public show of force without the help of the Emperor. But Ioannicio was just over there, in the Venetian lagoon, and he knew the perils. He was very doubtful that the Exarch’s frontal confrontation with the Venetians would be successful.

  Chapter 26

  THE RANSOM

  It was a busy winter in Olivolo and Rivo Alto. Venetians had a lot to rebuild since Bertwalt had set their villages on fire. In just a few months, they had done immense progress, in part because Polo was paying well for supplies and labor. As a consequence of the higher pay, Cimbrians had ventured downstream bringing pine wood even during the winter, and Polo had also been paying peasants around Patavium and Ateste to come and help rebuild. It seemed also as if their villages were reemerging and merging into one larger town, with more people and more dwellings.

  Polo and Marcello were bustling about with carpentry work.

  “You know, Polo, I was thinking…” Marcello started.

  “What were you thinking, Marcello?”

  “I was thinking that being independent is rather expensive!” Marcello continued.

  Marcello started laughing as he came to that realization. Polo was not following, and asked:

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, when we were just an extension of Ravenna…” Marcello explained. “Sure, we had to pay taxes, but it was way less than the rebuilding and defensive costs we are incurring now!”

  “It’s not that Ravenna was going to pay for the rebuilding…” Polo objected.

  “I know, but we were paying taxes to Ravenna for their protection…”

  “We were under Ravenna’s protection when the Longobards raided my farm in Altinum, or when they flattened Opterg… twice!” Polo objected again.

  “Sure, we were paying little and we were receiving little in return, because we did not count much,” Marcello conceded.

  Marcello was quiet for a while, but he kept thinking. He still felt he had a point to make. When they were subjects to Ravenna, they had less responsibilities and costs. Now that they were on their own, the price of independence felt greater than the tax burden they had as subjects.

  “Now that Ravenna is our foe, we have additional defensive costs…” Marcello began to explain.

  “If we do not have enough manpower,” Polo interrupted, “we can hire Longobard mercenaries!”

  “But that’s exactly my point!” Marcello exclaimed. “We have to pay Longobards to defend us… We did not have that cost when we were obedient to Ravenna!”

  “Hmmm, I think I see your point. We might end up paying more for Longobard mercenaries than what we would have had to pay Ravenna in taxes…”

  Now Polo started smiling too, now that he saw the irony of their situation. So much effort not to be commanded by a neighboring port, and now the cost of their independence was greater than the cost of being servants. But after a moment of silence, Polo replied to Marcello with a better answer. He did not know if it was true, but it was his merchant’s nature to find the silver lining and sell a product no matter what. His product was his independence, and this was not just a private conversation with Marcello. Everyone there was preoccupied for their lives and for their families. Everyone was probably thinking the same thing: ‘Was it worth it? Why are we following this young Duke and not the Exarch?’

  “You know what, Marcello?” Polo began to explain. “Sure, right now, especially at the beginning, it might be more expensive. But I see it as an investment…”

  “An investment? Like us building a ship to reach Kerkyra?”

  “Precisely! You see, without a ship we cannot trade any farther than Istria. Without independence we cannot trade beyond a couple of lucky seasons!”

  “Why?” Marcello questioned.

  “Because as soon as they find out how much gold we make, they want a big piece of it. They won’t tax us the same as if we were poor fishermen…”

  “They wouldn’t? They will not just want a fair portion of our riches?”

  “Of course not!” Polo exclaimed.

  “Why not? It is still a lot of gold!” Marcello objected.

  “Yes, but we are making so much gold that we pose a threat to them. We can basically buy an army and rule over them!”

  “I think I see where you are going with this, Polo…” Marcello admitted.

  “You see, Marcello? You tax the little people. You take some fish from the fisherman, and some grain from the farmer. You do it mostly to create a bond! The little people almost need you to tax them. It makes them feel secure! They are paying their lord in exchange for protection, even if the lord never lifts a finger!”

  “So you are saying that you will end up taxing us too?” Marcello provoked Polo.

  Marcello smiled at Polo to check and see what the Duke thought about his peers, if he believed them to be needing a strongman.

  “I don’t have time for that, but perhaps you are right,” Polo dismissed Marcello’s jesting. “I don’t tax because it’s nothing compared to the revenues we make by trading. But perhaps to create a lasting bond? Who knows… But anyway, that’s not the point!”

  “What is the point, Polo? I lost track…” Marcello asked.

  Marcello was adjusting a board he was cutting, as they continued to work as they were talking.

  “The point is that Ravenna taxes the little people, but the merchant that gets too rich, that one you have to squash and regulate.”

  “And that’s why they wanted us to stop in Ravenna every time we plan to venture south. To ask permission,” Marcello added.

  “Exactly. You see, they just want us to be jolly fishermen that wave at them as they sail by with their ships full of riches. They don’t want competition from us! No way!”

  “So, independence might be costlier, but it is inevitable and it pays because we are going to get filthy rich,” Marcello concluded.

  “That’s the point!”

  As they were finishing placing some boards on a new structure, they saw Claudio arriving by boat with Marcia on board.

  “Were you planning to stay here in Olivolo for lunch, and eat at the shipyard?” Marcia asked.

  “I was planning to!” Polo replied. “We were just going to have a quick bite and continue working!”

  “I thought so! That’s why I came over to convince you fellows to come have lunch in Rivo Alto!” Marcia stated.

  “What are we celebrating?” Polo asked.

  “Well, Hermetruda is back from Patavium, and she is bringing word from Adalulf…” Marcia explained.

  “Uh-oh, is it bad news? Now we have to defend ourselves on that front as well?” Polo asked.

  “Hermetruda won’t s
ay… she wants to talk to you… but I got it out from her that it was about an offer…”

  “An offer! Oh boy! Move over, Claudio, I am rowing!” Polo exclaimed.

  Polo dropped everything and advanced toward Marcia’s boat. Without waiting for Claudio to moor, Polo jumped aboard making the slender boat rock perilously. He then bumped Claudio forward toward the bow and had him sit next to his sister, Marcia. Polo then grabbed the oar and before rowing, he shouted to Marcello:

  “Marcello, hurry up! Are you coming?”

  “I was going to stay here and finish up…” Marcello replied.

  “What kind of magister militum are you? This has to do with what we were talking about! Come and watch me counter offer about the mercenaries we need!” Polo insisted.

  “Mercenaries? What is going on?” Marcia asked.

  “Don’t worry, Marcia, we will explain over lunch…” Polo reassured. “Marcello, run aboard, or I’ll make you swim in this icy water!”

  “Coming!” Marcello replied.

  Polo, Marcello, Marcia and Claudio departed for Rivo Alto, which was just about ten minutes by boat through the canals. Polo was rowing fast. Despite being tired from a long morning of carpentry, he could not wait to hear what Adalulf had to offer. Polo lived for this kind of dealings.

  Soon enough they arrived in Rivo Alto. They had already moored the boat and they were entering an indoor dining hall they had just finished building. It had a fireplace so they could stay extra warm during the cold winter. It was wide enough with a large table at the center in order to host several families. Paulina, Livia and Lucilla were setting the table, while Hermetruda was sitting down next to Fabia and Aldo. Livia’s children were running around with Orso and Paulina’s toddler.

  “Hermetruda! You are back!” Polo said as he entered. “I am so glad to see you!”

  “Hello, Polo…” Hermetruda replied.

  Hermetruda smiled at Polo, but not too enthusiastically, because she could see through Polo’s excessive pleasantries. After all, he was the one keeping her son Aldo as hostage.