The Prophetic Queen (Women's Biographical Historical Fiction): The Tumultuous Life of Matilde of Ringelheim

by Mirella Sichirollo Patzer

  “Wegeleben!” Thankmar’s voice rose.

  “If you wish, I can help organize your household,” I offered. He studied me, but did not nod or shake his head to accept my offer.

  “Wegeleben,” Heinrich reiterated. “It is a good offer.”

  “A compromise.” Thankmar paused, his features unmoving. “For your bastard.”

  Heinrich’s nostrils flared. “Do not speak that word in my presence again!”

  “But that is what I am.” Thankmar sucked in a frustrated breath. “I accept Wegeleben, but I ask again for the ancestral lands of my mother. Mother took me there several years ago when I visited her at the abbey. I breathed the air and touched the soil. She wanted me to love it as she did, and wanted me to inherit them.”

  “You would have, had your mother not lied and caused our marriage to be negated. By her falsehoods, she forfeited it. I am married lawfully now, and I must honor the children of this marriage. Only one son can be king, and that will be Otto.”

  A crackling log tumbled in the hearth. The room became stifling. I would not speak, at least until I found myself alone with Heinrich. Privately, I stood a better chance of persuading him to alter his decision.

  “So, I am not to succeed you? Because I am a bastard! No one of import! But a bastard could—and should—inherit his mother’s lands.” Bitter words steeped in pain and sarcasm. “I ask nothing more.”

  Heinrich shook his head. “I must keep my sources of wealth. When Otto takes his place in my stead, he must be strong, wealthy, and powerful. Otherwise the nobles will run roughshod over him.”

  “And if I am elected instead of Otto? What then?”

  “I am sorry, Thankmar, but my support will be for Otto. I hope you will stand by his side, aid him, and give him your fealty.”

  “Otto will possess lands rightfully mine?”

  “They are my lands. Merseburg belongs to the kingdom in our family’s name, as do other towns and cities.”

  “I am your firstborn! I’ve served you my entire life!” Passion flamed in Thankmar’s eyes. “Doesn’t that count for anything? Does my loyalty mean nothing to you?”

  Heinrich flinched. “I do not question your allegiance, but I cannot give you what you ask for.”

  “Then there is nothing more to be said. How can you deem yourself a just father when you prefer one son above the others?” Thankmar spat the words.

  I prepared to interject, to assure Thankmar of his father’s love, but had no chance.

  “Enough.” Heinrich roared in mounting rage. “My decision is final! You will accept it with no further argument.”

  “You ask too much of me.” Thankmar turned away.

  Heinrich caught his forearm and stopped him.

  Thankmar yanked his arm away as if his father’s touch were poison, his chest heaving.

  Heinrich let his hand fall away. “I pray your anger cools. Believe what I tell you. I love you. You hold a sacred place in my life, in my court, in my heart. Do not let this come between us or come between you and Otto.”

  Thankmar strode to the door, lifted the latch, and opened it. Face blazing with fury—and tears—he stared back at Heinrich. “Otto, always Otto.” He stormed from the room.

  I rose to my feet and placed my hand on my husband’s arm. “Heinrich, you must reconsider or you will lose his loyalty.”

  He shook his head and waved off my hold. “Nothing you can say will make me change my mind. It is the only way to keep the kingdom intact.”

  “And what of Heinz?”

  “What of him?”

  “Of all your sons, he was born after you became king, born a crown prince. He is more suited to reign in your stead. Not Otto, not Thankmar.” It was the first time I had spoken aloud my true feelings regarding succession, and I was determined it would not be the last. Heinz was the most charitable. At his young age, I had noticed his sense of fairness when at play with other children his age. In disputes, he was the peacemaker. Heinz would make a better king, of this, I was certain.

  Fists on my hips, I held my ground.

  “Otto is firstborn. Already, he shows good judgment and strength of character, the qualities of a king. Heinz, like Thankmar, will serve at Otto’s side.” He glowered at me. Then, as if to dismiss me, he lifted a map to study it.

  “You are wrong.” I remained stoic before him.

  His body stiffened and he raised his head.

  I met his glare without flinching.

  “When it comes to matters concerning our family and home, I have permitted you full authority. Regarding the kingdom, I shall make all decisions, and I have decided Otto will be the one to take my place one day. Nothing anyone can say will change my mind. Not even you.”

  “Then I’ll pray, for the seeds of discord between your sons are not only sown, but growing to maturity.” I turned on my heel and left him to his work.

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, I sat on a bench against the wall of the nave of the chapel reading my Psalter. I ran my hands over my initials that decorated the leather cover. A hundred or more lavishly illustrated psalms were written upon its vellum pages. My frustration over the argument of succession had cooled. Heinrich could be stubborn, but with time, gentle reasoning, and a great deal of patience on my part, I hoped to sway his decision.

  The baby in my belly kicked; its movements visible through my tunic. The birth would be any day. In preparation, I had relinquished my charitable duties to Sister Ricburg so that I might rest.

  At the creak of the door opening, I glanced behind me. I closed the book as Heinrich crossed the room to join me. Much more than king, husband, and father to our children, he was my entire world. He had worked hard to garner my love through the years, and, like a rosebud in slow bloom, my heart had opened to him.

  “May I join you?”

  “Your company pleases me.” I studied his expression. “You are pre-occupied. Is anything the matter?”

  “There’s an important matter I wish to discuss.”

  I set aside my Psalter, giving him my full attention.

  He paused. “I wish to offer Gerberga to Giselbert of Lotharingia in marriage.”

  “Gerberga?” I still thought of her as a child even though she was blooming into a beautiful young woman.

  “It is time to honor the promise I made to Giselbert of Lotharingia. He gave me the support he promised, and in return, I’ll make him duke. Through such a marriage, Lotharingia will be tied to my kingdom. Besides, she is twelve, the usual age for betrothal.”

  “I... I had not considered it.”

  “How could you not?”

  “Perhaps I hoped she would take the vows of the veil along with Hedwiga.”

  He frowned. “One daughter for religious life is enough. Gerberga must marry to strengthen our kingdom.”

  My thoughts returned to my own reluctance to wed when I was little more than my daughter’s age.

  “You must be remembering your desire for religious life.”

  “Yes, but thankfully our marriage turned out well.” My instinct was to protect my daughter, to allow her a voice so we could make the proper decision for her.

  “You married me when you were a few years older than Gerberga.” Heinrich paused, as if giving me time to absorb this point. “She has had plenty of education. We can bring her home from the abbey of Sankt Marien and introduce her to Giselbert. After a few months, when she is comfortable with him, we will hold the ceremony, and she can take her place beside him as Duchess of Lotharingia. If you wish, we can wait until Gerberga is sixteen before allowing them to consummate their marriage. Giselbert is a fine man of reputable heritage, and I have come to admire him. It is an excellent match.”

  I collected my considerations with a sigh. “I knew the day would come for me to relinquish my daughter to marriage, but I did not think it would be so soon.”

  “He comes from a noble family and his faith in God is strong. He has proved himself as fair and trustworthy. He will make a good, patient husband.
”

  I glanced down at the Psalter, abandoned in my lap. After a long pause I said, “I’ll resign myself to your wishes in this matter, but you must promise me one thing.”

  “I’ll deny you nothing.”

  “Promise me…if Gerberga doesn’t wish to marry this man, you will not force her, but will seek another suitable match.”

  He pondered my suggestion. “Your request carries the full depth of a mother’s love.” There came another pause as he studied me.

  I held myself stalwart under his piercing glare and returned a firm one of my own until he gave me his answer.

  “You have my word.”

  OUR THIRD SON and fifth child, was born after Vespers several days later, a process that nearly claimed my life. I labored unbearably for two days, often losing consciousness throughout. In the moments of lucidity, I prayed for death. Never had I experienced such an arduous delivery, not even with Heinz. The skill of the midwife triumphed, however, and in a gush of blood and fluid, my son entered this world.

  Afterwards, when the midwife had cleared away the soiled bedding and linens, and servants had refreshed and dressed me in clean bedclothes, the midwife gave me a final warning. “Domina, you barely survived this birth. Another will surely kill you. I pray you avoid becoming with child again. With your permission, I would be happy to advise your husband of this too.”

  This was to be my last child. May God forgive me, but the realization did not distress me. I rejoiced in the knowledge that I now had just cause to avoid the marital debt, the memory of that Maundy Thursday still a raw wound yet to heal. I doubted it ever would. “I thank you for delivering my son and for saving my life, but it is I who should bear the burden of telling my husband.”

  Her eyes filled with sadness, she merely nodded and quietly left the room.

  I cradled my son and kissed his forehead. Heinrich and I had agreed to call him Brun, after his favorite uncle, long deceased. I pondered the future, this new life to unfold according to God’s destiny. Peace crept over me. Heinrich and I had agreed to give him to the Church. In Brun, I sowed my hopes that God would save us from the soothsayer’s prophecy.

  ON A MILD evening when stars sparkled against a darkening sky, I stood with Heinrich and Giselbert at the base of the tower house steps. Gerberga and her retinue rode through the gates and into the bailey. Torch-carrying servants lined the courtyard. A guard helped Gerberga alight from her horse. I had not seen her for several months. The hood of her dark blue mantle covered her golden hair. Eyes the shade of sapphires sparkled in a pleasant face flushed from the exertion of the journey. Beneath her mantle, she wore a pale blue tunic embroidered with silver flowers. Gerberga curtseyed first to Heinrich and then to me.

  The formalities complete, I could no longer contain my composure and embraced my daughter. “Welcome home.”

  “You look well, Mother.”

  “As do you. You departed for the abbey a mere child and returned a beautiful young woman.”

  Gerberga smiled. “You do me honor.”

  “What? No kiss for your Father?” Heinrich stepped forward with open arms. Gerberga flung herself into his embrace. He kissed her cheek and clutched her to his chest with his massive arms. “It is good to have you home. The abbey’s food must have agreed with you. You’ve grown taller by a hand since I last saw you.”

  “The experience was rewarding, but none can compare with such a fine homecoming.”

  I beamed at Gerberga’s compliment.

  Gerberga turned to face Giselbert, who all this time, had been observing her.

  Giselbert wore a striped mantle of crimson and green pinned with a brooch of garnets set in gold. A sword with a jeweled hilt shone from the scabbard. He stepped forward, bowed, and kissed her hand. “I am Giselbert of Lotharingia, my lady.”

  I held my breath. With a critical eye, I noticed Giselbert how captivated he was by her beauty, and how her eyes brightened when she assessed his handsomeness.

  “I am honored to meet you, my lord.”

  “May I have the pleasure of escorting you into your home?” Giselbert offered his arm.

  Our daughter blushed. “That would please me.”

  I sighed with relief while the couple climbed the steps into the tower house.

  Heinrich offered me his arm, amused. “May I have the pleasure of escorting you into your home?”

  “Oh, Heinrich, how kind of you,” I returned in good sport.

  “Believe me, kindness has nothing to do with it,” he whispered in my ear. “My motives are wicked in nature and pertain to later tonight when we are alone.”

  I tensed, angry with myself because I had not told him of the midwife’s warning. I had been churched after Brun’s birth, and now, with no religious impediments, Heinrich was eager to return to my bed.

  “Hush.” My cheeks grew hot. I glanced at Giselbert and Gerberga’s retreating figures paces ahead. “They might hear you.”

  “Ah yes, it is best to keep them innocent until they can learn firsthand the pleasures of a good marriage.” He gave my posterior a secret squeeze.

  I slapped his hand away and clasped it to prevent further mischief. I must tell him, the sooner the better.

  THAT NIGHT, WHEN Heinrich came to my bedchamber, passion radiated in his eyes as he came toward me.

  The memory of that Maundy Thursday still haunted me. Like a thief, it had stolen the pleasure of lovemaking from me. Now that I could no longer safely deliver a child, I took solace in the knowledge that I had endowed Heinrich with three sons and two daughters, and thus had fulfilled my duties as a wife. Intimacy that did not lead to the creation of life was considered a sin of pleasure by the Church. How would Heinrich respond? I prayed for his understanding.

  He touched my hair, stroking it, letting it flow between his thick fingers. With his forefinger beneath my chin, he raised my lips to his and kissed me. As much as I loved him, I felt no desire in turn.

  “What bothers you, Matilde?” Heinrich pulled back from me. “Why do you behave as a virgin this night?”

  “I am sorry, but I cannot stop myself.”

  “I am your husband, and it has been far too long since we have lain together.”

  “I realize that.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “There is something I must tell you.” I tested my nerve.

  “Then pray speak.”

  I paused to gather my words to ease the impact. Beyond the danger the act of carnality posed to me, a yearning for chastity came from deep inside of me, and I would not wish him wounded because of it.

  “Is it something I have done?”

  Trembling, I turned away from him, walked several paces, and then faced him again. “I assure you, the fault is mine. There is no other way to say this, so it is best if I speak my mind.” I inhaled a fortifying breath. “The midwife advised that I cannot safely carry another child. To do so would result in my death. My years for bearing children have passed.”

  He had comprehended the deepness of my faith, yet he appeared puzzled. “I knew you had a difficult time with Brun, but I did not fathom it was so serious.”

  I said nothing to give him time to ponder.

  “I would do anything to protect you,” he said. “We will not have another child, but there are other ways for us to be together that would not result in a baby.”

  “I know, but it is my wish to live the remaining years of my life in service to God without carnal lust between us. I pray for your tolerance and understanding as I ask you to grant me my wish.”

  “You think of our joining as carnal lust? As a sin?”

  “I love you, but we can no longer love in that manner. Lovemaking is a sin if it is solely for pleasure.”

  “You are not a nun and I am not a bishop. We are married, sanctioned by God himself to love each other in that manner. Men articulate their love with our bodies: the will of God Himself ordains it. It cannot be a sin.”

  He motioned for me to sit on the bed beside him
. I complied. Then he put his arms around me in a most tender manner.

  “Please try to understand,” I said. “Over the years of our marriage, you told me many times you would deny me nothing. And I have asked for little.”

  Heinrich’s eyebrows rose.

  “Please, I ask you to grant me my wish. Release me from our marital debt.” Tears flowed. “Forgive me.”

  Heinrich clenched me to his chest, cradling my head onto his breast as I sobbed. How could I tell him that ever since the night of our sinful copulation, I could endure the act no more?

  With his desire scattered like autumn leaves in a bitter wind, words failed us. What remained was a sense of loss from which we would not recover. At last, in the blackest part of the night, I fell asleep in his arms. When I awoke, I found myself still in his warm embrace.

  TIME PASSED AND weeks turned to months. To my delight, a genuine fondness blossomed between Gerberga and Giselbert. Their devotion to each other reassured me and I was content in the understanding the fates favored them. At each meal, they sat together. They strolled arm-in-arm in the gardens between the fading daylight and darkness. Their laughter and breathless abandon echoed in the air as they rode their horses into the fresh mists.

  Two months later, Gerberga and Giselbert were married in Quedlinburg. As her dowry, Heinrich gave Gerberga a huge tract of land, which abutted the eastern marches of Saxony and the duchy of Lotharingia. A link meant to strengthen Lotharingia’s ties to our kingdom.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A.D. 926

  Quedlinburg

  BITING WINDS SENT swirls of snow blustering across the cobbled pavement. On a day fit for neither man nor beast, I wrapped my mantle tighter around me and wound my way through the crowded bailey. A frenzy of activity surrounded me—the madness of soldiers preparing for war again. Beyond the palisades and ramparts, thousands more warriors waited. Armorers made last minute repairs to shields and weapons; serfs and servants scurried about tending to last minute commands or requests. Horses snorted with impatience as blacksmiths hammered and nailed iron shoes into place. The wind carried the smell of burning torches and the excited banter of armed men marching to war. Amid tears, kisses, and last embraces, we women braved the weather to send them off to war against the brutal Magyars who had infiltrated our lands once more.