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

by Mirella Sichirollo Patzer

  Heinrich watched me. I had not anticipated such a decree. As my shock subsided, I smiled with gratitude.

  Brother Rufus continued. “I further announce the Queen shall receive a substantial widow’s endowment at my death.”

  It was typical for a king to name his queen as regent, to protect any heirs too young to assume regal responsibility. I smiled as Brother Rufus read on.

  “By royal decree, Prince Otto shall become co-regent with his mother. He and those he permits may control holdings or maintain armies. Heretofore, it is unlawful to conspire or protest the actions of Duke Otto or any member of the Liudolfing family. Such actions are treasonous. Perpetrators and their families will face execution. Duke Otto or his delegate alone may enforce the law and collect taxes within the kingdom.”

  At first, there was no sound, no movement. As they grasped the impact of the king’s words, a murmur built. The decree designated Otto as co-regent, but granted him the full powers of kinghood while rendering me, as regent, powerless; a deliberate act to prevent Heinz from being elected king over Otto. He had transferred all holdings to Otto, leaving his other sons with nothing, making Brun, Heinz, and Thankmar too weak to stand against their brother. How long had he been planning this? I clenched my hands within the folds of my gown.

  Otto remained stones faced and Eadgyth blushed, her expression one of pride. Arnulf’s eyes bulged, his face crimson.

  Before any further discussion, Heinrich rose and left the room. I was obligated to trail after him to the Great Hall where a feast awaited. Otto and Eadgyth followed, as did the others. Servants arrived with trays of food and pitchers of ale and wine as the hall filled with dinner guests. Across the room, a group of men gathered around Heinrich, conversing and laughing. As if he sensed me observing him, his attention came to rest on me. I had already seated myself at the high table, a clear break of protocol. No one could sit before the king did. For a moment, it was as if the rest of the world had disappeared. We beheld each other, his expression triumphant, mine furious.

  Heinrich stopped a passing servant and whispered to him. With a final turn of his head to glare at me, he announced, “My honorable guests. Please enjoy yourselves. Partake of the food, wine, and enjoy the entertainment. I am pressed by certain matters and I must leave.”

  His abrupt departure stunned me. I had words to exchange with him.

  A servant approached and interrupted my reflections. “The King wishes you to join him in his chamber.”

  “I cannot abandon our guests. Please have a servant attend my husband instead,” I responded with curt politeness.

  “Nay, Domina. His command was that you come to him. No one else.”

  I clenched my teeth and followed. I could not refuse the king’s request. If Heinrich desired a heated confrontation tonight, then so be it. Better now than later to demand he amend the decree to include all his sons.

  His bedchamber’s door was ajar. After composing myself, I entered.

  Heinrich sat on his bed.

  “You requested I attend you.” My tone was cold.

  “We must talk.” It was more of a command than a request, albeit gently spoken.

  “Yes, we must.”

  “Come sit beside me.”

  “I prefer to stand.”

  “I did not ask you what you preferred. Come sit beside me.” His tone was unyielding.

  I sat expressionless, some distance from him, and smoothed my gown to avoid looking at him, but I noticed him all the same—the familiar broad shoulders and hard chest, strong arms that had often embraced me. A mighty, masculine hand clasped mine, bit I shook my hand free.

  “I summoned you so that we might speak.” This time, his tone was yielding.

  “It would be better if I had time to allow my emotions to cool first.”

  “I understand why you are angry with me.”

  “Do you wish me to forgive your bad judgment?” I hurled the words I knew would begin the argument.

  Heinrich sat ominously silent before responding. “There is no other judgment to make. Otto is the most qualified to succeed me, and, if you search your heart, you would also realize it.” He rose, walked over to a table, and raised a goblet. “Share a cup of wine with me?” Without waiting for an answer, he poured.

  I shook my head.

  He shrugged then swallowed a long gulp. “From the day of Otto’s birth, his destiny has been clear to me. Since then, my every act was dedicated to help him fulfill that destiny.” He drank another long sip of wine and returned to the bed. “I understand how you feel. You believe Heinz should rule in my stead when I am long gone, but the boy lacks ability to rule. Otto will make a wiser, stronger king. He already demonstrates these qualities in battle and in the council chambers.”

  My anger nearly burst. I bit back my tongue. “That is your opinion, Heinrich. Otto is older, but Heinz’s abilities will soon become evident. The law grants all sons an equal share of a father’s inheritance. Elections decide who becomes king. It would have been fairer to divide the kingdom equally between them so they each can stand strong in an election. Instead, you gave everything to Otto! From the day Heinz came into the world, you have forced him to live in Otto’s shadow.”

  “I cannot stray from what I have worked so hard to achieve.”

  “And is it your dream to alienate your other sons?” My voice shook.

  “Brun belongs to the Church. There, he will rise to power and stand by Otto’s side when he comes of age. Heinz lacks the astuteness and intelligence of an able ruler. At best, he can become an advisor to Otto, but nothing more. I’ll make him a duke, but Otto will rule over him. I’ll not weaken the kingdom by dividing it into equal portions.”

  “Is there nothing I can say to change your mind?”

  “No. My decision stands.”

  I rose to leave, but he caught my wrist and held it in his grip.

  I flashed him a glare and he released me. “If you deny Heinz the means to stand equally against his brother in an election, then you bring division to our family and place our sons in competition with each other. Do no more damage. Amend your decree to include Heinz. I beg you.”

  He grabbed my shoulders in a controlling hold. “Don’t you understand? I will not change my decree.”

  “Then you must bear the responsibility for the destruction you will cause.” I stared into his eyes; deeply enough to see the man he had become. “You are changed. You have become obsessed with power. The Holy Lance has worked its evil wizardry on you, encouraging your unbridled lust for power. Why are you never satisfied? Your decision today will forever stand between us.” I turned and stormed from the room, then came to an abrupt halt. In the corridor, walking briskly away was Eadgyth. How much she had overheard?

  LIKE A BLACK crow heralding doom, the aftermath of Heinrich’s diploma hovered over our marriage. Several days passed with unease.

  We departed from Eldern separately—Heinrich to vanquish the Slavs who had laid siege to Walsleben, and I to Quedlinburg with Otto and Eadgyth to await the birth of their child.

  On our journey, I noticed Eadgyth’s cool attitude towards me. Wherever we stopped for the night, Eadgyth avoided my company. She was also absent from formal appearances. At first, she used her condition as an excuse, but I sensed there was more to it. In my presence, she diverted her glances and spoke little. Everything seemed changed between us. It was not until Eadgyth immersed herself in charitable activities in direct competition to mine that I knew I must find a way to resolve the distance between us.

  I learned she was founding a religious house for women near Magdeburg at the same time I was founding one in Quedlinburg. The houses were too close in proximity, and this annoyed me. Moments after I learned of it, I searched her out and found her in her bedchamber.

  I caught her by surprise when I swept into her rooms. A maidservant was helping Eadgyth write, another stoked the fire, and yet another hemmed a gown. They bowed at my unexpected presence.

  I accepted
their deference and thanked them. “You may leave. The duchess and I’ll not require anything further.” I paused a moment to compose myself.

  “I was not aware of your coming, or I would have ordered refreshments.” Heavy with child, Eadgyth tried to rise.

  I gestured for her to remain sitting. “I’ll stay only a few moments.” My response was assertive, meant to remind her of my rank.

  “Then I am most anxious to attend you.” Eadgyth’s voice, although polite, did not convey warmth.

  “I came for one purpose—to dissuade you from building the abbey in Magdeburg.”

  “Why? Surely you cannot deny the town is in need of a religious house.”

  “No, Magdeburg could indeed benefit from it, but because Magdeburg is little over a day’s ride away, there is no need to found an abbey in both locations. I ask you to refrain from proceeding. This is the town of Heinrich’s ancestors, and our plans cannot be thwarted.”

  “I apologize, but I cannot put a stop to that which I have already promised.” Then Eadgyth brightened. “Perhaps a better solution is for my father by marriage to join me in my endeavor. I desire it. Nothing would make me happier.”

  “I am Queen. It is not for you to decide whether to invite the king to assist you. It is my place to found a religious house with my husband. In the name of God and the King, I command you to put a halt to your plans for Magdeburg.” I forced out the words then chastised myself. Never before had I spoken to anyone so curtly. My uncharitable behavior distressed me.

  “If you command me, I shall not found the religious house. I’ll found one in another deserving town.” Eadgyth sat more erect. “In return, I ask you not to interfere in our lives.”

  Her boldness galled me. “What words are these? Explain yourself.”

  “I overheard you speaking with the king on the day he named Otto as co-regent. You argued for Heinz, not for Otto. Do not believe for one moment I do not recognize why you did it.”

  “So, you did eavesdrop! What right do you have to intrude on the private conversations of your king and queen?” My tone rose in pitch.

  Eadgyth paused before replying. “I did not intend to. I was walking past and could not help what I heard. I am fortunate I did, or I would not have learned of your resentment toward Otto being named as heir.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but Eadgyth interrupted me.

  “Please do not deny it. We both realize I speak the truth. In fact, I believe you suffer guilt from these feelings.”

  “Do not presume to recognize my feelings. You understand nothing of me and even less of Saxon ways.”

  “I comprehend more than you know.”

  I clenched my fists, having taken a harder stand than intended, and with harsh words. How unlike me, but I could not help it, not when it came to charitable works, not when it came to Heinz. I turned on my heel and swept out the door.

  IN THE GRAY mists before dawn, I walk alone through the forests of Quedlinburg. My mind churns with vague uncertainty. The nebulous mist swirling around me matches the cloudiness of my thoughts. Confusion turns to fear at the realization I am lost. Behind me, a twig cracks, and I stop.

  The roar of a wild beast drives panic deep into my core. A momentary glance behind me reveals a strange animal who tracks my every step; the ferocious creature raises itself on its hind legs to threaten me. It bellows a horrendous roar. Its breath steams then fades into the murky haze of the cold morning air.

  Before I can turn and run, the beast drops onto four legs and glares ominously, disdainfully, at me. Then, with no warning, it darts into the brush and withdraws into the mists.

  In the distance, I hear the shout of hunters. I run after the creature, but each step takes too much effort and leaves me feeble. Then I hear the flit of arrows through the air and see the hunters.

  “Stop! Do not shoot!” I scream, but it is too late. The beast falls to the ground.

  I run towards it and study the brown heap. The beast lies mortally wounded, yet still breathes. When I bend for a closer look, I see it is Heinrich. I scream.

  “MATILDE?”

  My eyes flew open, and I found myself gazing into the alarmed face of Sister Ricburg.

  “Forgive me, but you screamed in your sleep.”

  I attempted to sit up, but found myself entangled in the bed covers. I tugged the blankets hard and cast them aside. This time, I managed the second attempt. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

  Knowing of my prophetic visions, Sister Ricburg bore a worried expression. “You had another dream. Do you wish to tell me about it?”

  I shook my head and wiped sweat from my face with a corner of the bedcovers. I had tried to keep the images to myself. Heinrich, Sister Ricburg, and no one beyond my family knew of them. If a servant learned of my dreadful nightmares, rumors would circulate. It would be best not to call any attention to us. “Perhaps in the morning. Please do not worry. Return to your bed and take your rest.”

  She chewed her bottom lip. “You must vow to summon me if you change your mind.”

  I nodded and gave my best effort to give her a reassuring smile.

  Her features tense with concern, she left my chamber.

  I rose and went to the open shutters to observe the peaceful night.

  I lost track of time as I stood there, regaining my composure, letting my mind overrule the terrible visions during my restless slumber.

  A strange sense of foreboding seized me. Peculiar dreams unnerved me each night, a clear warning the future held something dark and menacing. I returned to bed determined to rest, but sleep did not come. When morning came, I found myself unrested—staring at the ceiling.

  OUTSIDE EADGYTH’S BEDCHAMBER, I smoothed and straightened my over-tunic before knocking. Otto’s voice bid me to enter. I lifted the latch and opened the door. Eadgyth lay in bed. Otto stood next to the cradle gazing at his child. As I approached, I noticed the pastiness of Eadgyth’s face. At the far end of the room, the midwife and her assistant packed away herbs and bundled soiled linens into a basket.

  “You have a strong, healthy grandson.” The midwife gave me a pleased look.

  I handed the woman a pouch of coins. “Thank you for your care.”

  “It was an honor to serve you and your family.” The woman tucked it into her vast cleavage and left the room, her assistant in tow.

  I went to Eadgyth’s bedside. “I am pleased you are well.” Despite the discord between us, my words were sincere.

  “Well, but exhausted,” she replied with a smile, which I returned wholeheartedly.

  The conflict between us remained unresolved, and though we did our best to avoid each other, we behaved cordially in each other’s company.

  “Come and meet your grandson, Mother,” Otto invited me nearer with a gesture of his head.

  I filled my soul with the vision of my grandson. “He is beautiful.”

  “That he is.” Otto touched the tiny hand of his slumbering baby.

  “Have you named him?” I whispered as I lifted my grandson into my arms.

  “His name is Liudolf.”

  “Liudolf—a fine name. It is fitting for your son to bear the name of your ancestors.”

  This child who slept in my arms captivated Otto. I returned the babe to the cradle and smiled at Eadgyth. “I’ll notify the bishop so he may announce the birth. Rest and I’ll have warm milk sent to you to help you sleep so you may regain your strength.”

  Otto kissed me on the cheek, and we parted.

  As I prepared to close the door behind me, Eadgyth called out to me. “Mother!”

  I halted and turned with surprise at the endearment.

  “I am happy you came to visit me.”

  Her words, spoken with such gentle sincerity gave rise to a soothing warmth in my chest. “There is nowhere I would rather be. Rest and I’ll return later to check on you and the baby.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  A.D. 932

  Quedlinburg

  AFTER SEVERAL YEA
RS, two more new lives came into our lives. Eadgyth gave birth to a second child, a daughter named Liutgarde, and Gerberga bore Giselbert a son they named Heinrich.

  Occupied with the founding of a monastery and two abbeys, I had been away for several months. As I rode to Quedlinburg with my entourage, eager to greet my new granddaughter, I reflected on the tension between Eadgyth and I since our argument over her founding a religious house in Magdeburg. Why did Eadgyth feel the need to compete with me in charitable work when it would please me more to work together as a mother and daughter would? I was determined to do all that I could to bond with her.

  I rode through the open portcullis, past the guardhouses and armory, and into the bailey where Otto and Eadgyth waited to greet me. My son embraced me with exuberance. Eadgyth welcomed me with the cordiality of a loving daughter by marriage, but beneath the gracious smile, I sensed awkwardness.

  “You are both a vision of happiness. I am anxious to meet my new granddaughter.”

  “And you shall, but first, a hot bath awaits you in your bedchamber,” Eadgyth said. “When you are ready, I’ll bring Liutgarde to you.”

  I chewed my lower lip, disappointed I would have to wait to greet the newest member of my family, but Eadgyth was right; the water would ease my aching muscles and refresh me. Besides, it would be ill advised to meet an infant with the dirt of the road and the aroma of horse upon me. “I would like that very much. My gratitude for your thoughtfulness.”

  “Later tonight, I have planned a grand feast in your honor,” Otto announced as we climbed the tower steps to the keep.

  “Your father, is he here yet?” I had received word of Heinrich’s arrival, and my heart beat painfully in my chest when he was not there to greet me.

  “Yes, several days ago. He is hunting, but should return soon.” Otto linked my arm with his and we went inside.