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

by Mirella Sichirollo Patzer

  God go with you, Otto

  I reread the document. When Hedwig was born, Heinrich had promised me she could enter religious life if she did not wish to marry. We had set aside the funds for her to become abbess here at Saint Servatius. Otto was aware of our wishes in this regard. Now as the king, he sought a marriage for her, no doubt to advance his causes, whatever they were. Otto had consulted with neither Hedwiga nor me about this. How long had he been planning this? A betrothal was difficult to secure and this was the first I had heard of it. As monarch, he was within his rights, but I expected he would at least discuss it with me first, something Heinrich would have done—but Heinrich was gone, and Otto now ruled. Shock kept me speechless for several moments.

  “What is the matter?” Sister Ricburg’s voice rang with alarm.

  I pushed down my ire. “Otto has arranged a marriage for Hedwiga. I am to bring her to Aachen.”

  Sister Ricburg’s hand rose to her parted lips.

  “I must speak to her.” I slipped my tunic over my head and let it slide over my body. Slipping my feet into my shoes, I hurried to the partially completed abbey.

  I found her in her chambers staring out the window into the cloister. In her hand, she held a parchment that bore Otto’s seal. I knew its contents. Her gaze met mine when I entered the room.

  “Did you know of this?” She held out the sheet.

  I shook my head, and studied her face to discern her feelings, but she remained expressionless. “No, but I received a similar letter.”

  At eight and twenty years, my eldest child resembled me in appearance and character. She preferred austerity to the pageantry of court life. Her angelic face and gentle spirit endeared her to those blessed enough to know her.

  “Have you met this man, Hugh?” she asked.

  “He was married to Eadgyth’s sister Agiva, but has remained unmarried since her death. I met him a few times at official ceremonies and such, but I never entered into any conversation with him.”

  Her countenance fell.

  “I have heard he is a strong man. Wise and powerful, respected,” I added, not wishing to give her hope should she be averse to the marriage or should I fail to convince Otto to let her remain in the abbey. “He is a man who does not seek to become king, but wishes to restore the crown of Francia to the son of King Charles, Louis, whom he brought home from exile in England. Try not to worry. I doubt Otto would arrange a marriage contract if Hugh were cruel or wretched.”

  “I never pondered marriage.” Hedwiga spoke wistfully. “Now that the opportunity presents itself, I discover I am fond of the idea.”

  I drew her closer and kissed her cheek.

  “Oh, Mama, you and Father hoped I would become an abbess, but God has yet to call me. In my heart, I am meant to be a mother, a good wife, not an abbess tasked with the burden and responsibility of her charges’ souls.”

  “You would enter into this marriage willingly?”

  “Would that disappoint you?” Her beautiful brows rose.

  “Your happiness is all that counts. If destiny calls, no matter the path, you must follow your heart, for it will never play you false.”

  “I do wish to marry.” She gave me a smile filled with relief.

  How could I not be happy for her if this was what she wanted? I embraced her exuberantly. “There is much to do in order to prepare. Judging by the letter, we should leave as soon as possible after the snow melts.”

  We parted, but as I walked away, I could not suppress my unease. When I had left Aachen behind on the day after Otto’s coronation, he had just learned that several of the dukes were plotting rebellion. Despite my pleas, he had refused to give Thankmar his mother’s dowry lands. He had rejected Heinz’s clamor for a dukedom. Was he still angry with me for supporting Heinz over him for king? What deal had he struck with Hedwiga’s future groom, and what of Heinz? Had Otto made a place for him in the kingdom? Regret filled me once more. I had failed to put Heinz, who was more patient and tolerant, on the throne. I still believed he would have made a wiser king than his elder, hot-spirited brother.

  These questions and more raced through my mind. It was time to return to Aachen to make certain all was well. Little did I comprehend that the turmoil that would soon divide my sons and bring bloodshed and enmity to my family had already taken root.

  AFTER EASTER, I set forth for Aachen with Hedwiga and Sister Ricburg. Thirty armed guards escorted our entourage of servants and baggage carts laden with clothing, supplies, and gifts for the abbeys where we would take shelter along the way.

  Two days into the journey, we encountered a band of fifty or more soldiers riding towards us.

  One rider carried the Liudolfing family standard of a black eagle against a golden background. Otto’s men!

  The commander of my guards exchanged words with their leader. From where I sat, I could not hear what they said.

  As I prepared to alight, their leader approached my conveyance.

  He was approximately forty years, with an unpleasantly scarred face and a brawny build. “King Otto tasked me with escorting you to Aachen.”

  I nodded with gratitude, but unease niggled at me. Was there something more behind their sudden appearance? Otto knew I had guards aplenty. Why send more? “Is there some danger?”

  He hesitated before answering. “There is no danger, Domina.”

  “Then why so many men?”

  “The king ordered me to take charge of your entourage. I am to take control of any valuables you carry and ensure they are conveyed to Aachen.”

  Although he spoke calmly, his words stung. My heart raced as blood coursed wildly through my veins. The items I had brought with me to donate to religious foundations or the poor along the way came from my personal wealth. Otto had no right to lay claim over them. I gripped my reins tight. “No, you shall not. They are mine, gifts for the abbeys where I will be taking shelter on my way to Aachen.”

  From a pouch hanging from his saddle, he retrieved a scroll and handed it to me. “Domina, I am sorry, but the king orders it, and I have no choice but to do as commanded.”

  I unfurled the document.

  It bore the royal seal and signature. As I read, outrage burned inside me. I handed the missive to Hedwiga to read then addressed the guard. “I am to be taken into custody if I refuse to relinquish my possessions?”

  The man shifted in his saddle. “That is the king’s command.”

  If a dowager queen could not deal as she wished with her property, what chance would other widows have?

  Over the years, Heinrich and I had gained the respect of the Church through donations of land and treasure. If need be, I felt certain the Church would support me.

  I straightened my back, set the reins over my saddle, and offered him my hands, palms up. “Then you must arrest me, for I will not relinquish what is lawfully mine.”

  Hedwiga emitted a gasp. “Mother, no! Please do as he says. Save your arguments for Otto.”

  I paused and glanced at Sister Ricburg, who gave me a barely discernible nod. I could not argue with my daughter’s logic, and so heeded her prudent words. “Because my son commands it, I will comply, but I do so against my wishes.

  Relief washed over the guard’s face. The others returned to formation and we set off.

  As we continued forth, the overly large entourage drew more attention than usual. It was an alarming display of force. Eighty men to escort a dowager queen, her daughter, a nun, and a handful of servants!

  Humiliation stung me at each abbey who sheltered us, for the commander provided me with only a meagre purse of a few silver coins to offer as payment for our lodgings.

  The king’s men had seized all the items I had brought as gifts. I would confront Otto when I greeted him.

  OUR CUMBERSOME ENTOURAGE made slow progress and took nearly a month to reach Aachen. I had not seen my former home for nearly a year. To ride through the familiar forest abounding with game, where Heinrich and I had spent many days hunting
with our falcons, brought a rush of bittersweet memories. We traveled a road running east of the Meuse River through the Carolingian heartland. A few leagues from the gates, we encountered yet another troop of imperial guards to escort us the rest of the way. Over a hundred men now rode with us. As we drew closer, a steady stream of carts and people shared the road: merchants and serfs, courtiers and beggars. All provided or sought a service from the palace. All gawked at the outlandishly large retinue. So many men might stir fears of attack.

  Soon, the stronghold loomed before me in all its glory. Memories of happier days came to mind. Beyond its parapets, we rode past the gynoecium and barracks that housed hundreds of sentries and men-at-arms. Outside the timber hospice, people watched the mass of guards around my carriage as we rumbled past. We had known such love and happiness here, but that had all changed when Heinrich died. His death had brought turmoil into our family, scattering my loved ones across our lands and beyond like petals in a windstorm.

  I rode beneath the gates. A cool evening breeze stirred. The dimness of dusk had already befallen. Torches lit the interior of the bailey to shed a welcome ambience for our weary entourage. Smoke swirled from the numerous louvers of the palace, sending the aroma of cooking fires and burning wood into the air.

  Queen Eadgyth waited in front of the grand entrance doors; her violet over-tunic with gold embroidery was resplendent against the torchlight. My former crown adorned her head above a white silk veil. She smiled nervously. Our last parting had not been amicable and she must have known of Otto’s demands upon my personal wealth.

  My heart leapt with joy at the sight of Brun, who bore a big grin on his face. I could not believe my youngest child was already thirteen years. Ten-year-old Wilhelm, Otto’s son by the Magyar woman, Aranka, stood beside him. My grandson and son were still under the care of my cousin, Baldericus, the abbot of the monastery in Utrecht. They must have come to Aachen for Easter and had yet to return to Utrecht. How happy I was to see them both!

  I descended from the carriage, and as protocol dictated, Eadgyth stepped forward to greet me. Eadgyth’s son, nine-year-old Liudolf, peeked at me from behind his mother’s skirts; his younger sister Liutgarde stood beside him. I cocked my head and frowned in jest, raising my arms in a voracious way as if to catch them. They squealed in delight and hastened into my embrace.

  From the pouch at my waist, I removed four bags and handed one to Brun and each of my three grandchildren. “I brought your favorite honeyed nuts,” I said with a wink. They opened their gifts and popped a sample of the treat into their mouths.

  “And Otto?” I asked of Eadgyth after I had greeted everyone. “Does he not come to greet his mother?”

  “He sends his apologies. He has been locked in the Council Hall with his advisors all afternoon. Let us go inside. A bath will be readied for you, and afterwards we will feast in your honor.”

  “I thank you, Eadgyth, but I wish to speak to Otto first.”

  At the firm insistence in my voice, she opened her mouth as if to speak, but closed it again.

  My frustrations simmered. Hedwiga’s sudden betrothal, the interference with the building of the abbey, the seizure of my goods. I would spare none of the words that burned in my mind the entire length of my dreary journey from Quedlinburg to Aachen. I swept through the grand entrance and the gallery toward the Council Hall, eager to confront him.

  Two guards swung open the doors for us, and with Eadgyth trailing behind me, I strode into the vast chamber. Twenty or so men milled around in groups with tankards in their grips, a sign that formal discussion had ended. Heads turned in my direction. Conversation gradually ceased as men bowed when Eadgyth and I passed by.

  Otto stood in the center of the room surrounded by a handful of advisors. His sapphire-colored over-tunic glistened against the torchlight. His loose golden hair cascaded to his shoulders. At six and twenty years, he was handsome and tall. This was my first glimpse of him as king. He appeared healthy, with color in the cheeks of his narrow face. He tensed as I made my way to him. “Mother!” He stepped forward and embraced me.

  “I must speak to you now,” I whispered in his ear before he released me.

  He pulled away, then he declared the gathering over.

  I waited until the last man departed. After the doors closed, my exasperation erupted. “I demand an explanation.”

  “It is good to see you, too, Mother.”

  His sarcasm annoyed me. “Truly? If so, your words do not match your actions. A loving son does not treat his mother with such disregard. What crime have I committed that I deserved to have my belongings seized and an army of guards surrounding me as if I were a wretched prisoner?”

  “Your spending has spiraled out of control since Father’s death. I am merely protecting you and our wealth.”

  “Our wealth? It is my own coin I use, not the wealth of the kingdom, so it is none of your concern. I have sold my jewels and used the resources left to me by your father on his death. I no longer bear queenly duties and wish to devote myself to my charities, as your father intended.”

  “I have allowed you to indulge in your charitable pursuits while I kept my reservations to myself. I sent numerous advisors, experienced in matters of architecture and finances, to counsel you. Yet, you heeded nothing of what they recommended.”

  “You allowed me!” My voice rose with indignation. “The abbey at Quedlinburg was your father’s dream, his legacy to the women of our family, a safe place for them to receive their religious teachings, which he entrusted to me to complete on his behalf. He ordered his architects to draw the plans to his exact specifications, and he bequeathed me the funds necessary to see to its construction. Now, you countermand your father’s wishes. I will not tolerate it.”

  “Your grief and need to finish the religious house Father wanted compels you.” Otto’s voice became tender. “But I believed when the abbey was built, you would be satisfied. Instead, you have already begun plans to found other abbeys. There is no end to your aspirations. Costs continue to rise, and they must be curtailed.”

  “Everything has been done according to your father’s wishes, and I will continue to honor his memory by founding monasteries and making donations in his name.”

  “But I am king, and you must seek my approval first.”

  There it was – a glimpse of his lofty ambition and taste for power – the qualities I least admired in him. To have my son speak to me as if I were a child was more than I could bear. “I am your mother, and only respecting your father’s wishes. You have a duty to me, and to your father’s memory.” I paused, waiting for a reaction, but he remained stoic. “This is retribution because I backed your brother instead of you for kingship, is it not?”

  His jaw twitched. “This has nothing to do with whomever you did or did not support. It is about your lavish spending that is draining the Treasury faster than it can be replenished.”

  “My wealth is not part of the Treasury, or do you wish to take it from me because you need it to build your armies because rebellion is likely?”

  His face reddened. I had touched a nerve.

  “Until there is a full accounting, I forbid you to spend another coin.” His stern tone rang with bitterness.

  Eadgyth stepped between us, placing her hand on Otto’s arm. “Let this be a happy reunion. Surely such matters can be discussed tomorrow?”

  “There are other ways to garner peace,” I continued. “Your father faced similar defiance among the dukes when he became king. He spent his time and energy putting down rebellion. A great many lives were lost. This, I do not wish for you. Do not allow discord and hate to taint your rule.”

  His shoulders slumped. “It is my wish too, but it may not be possible.”

  “And what does Heinz think of these measures against me?”

  “I do not care what Heinz thinks, but I am certain he will agree with me when he sees the full measure of your expenditures. You will be happy to learn I have summoned him back from Me
rseburg. He should arrive tomorrow.” Otto paced back and forth. “As your eldest son and king, you and your wealth are my responsibility. I cannot permit you to continue to spend so much or you will exhaust the kingdom’s resources.”

  “It is God’s work I do.” My words were heated.

  “You must be tired, Domina,” Eadgyth interjected. “Please let me accompany you to your rooms to refresh yourself before the feast.”

  Otto’s brows remained furrowed.

  I gave my daughter by marriage a nod of acknowledgement and faced Otto anew. “Your wife speaks wisely, Otto. But I will not rest until this matter is settled between us.”

  Otto’s jaw twitched. Disappointment clogged my throat as I turned my back and retreated from the room.

  THE NEXT MORNING, after attending the prayers of Prime in the Palatine Chapel, I hurried to the Treasury. It was located in a tower adjacent to the Great Hall on the north side of the grounds. There, somewhere among the diplomas and royal correspondence, I would find the scrolls confirming my wealth and its independence from the kingdom.

  Two guards stood on either side of the door. They snapped to attention and crossed their spears to bar me. “My apologies, Domina, but no one may enter,” said the elder of the two men.

  “Pray tell me why?” As queen, I was one of the few people permitted to go in. “I must speak to the Chancellor to retrieve a document from the archives.”

  “The Chancellor, along with the Treasurer, the Seneschal, and the Chamberlain, are in the Curia meeting with the king and his brother.”

  “I shall seek them there.” A chill spread through me as I spun around and walked back in the direction from which I came. Heinz must have arrived in the night. After returning from a journey, he always came to greet me first, yet in this case, he had not done so. Why?