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

by Mirella Sichirollo Patzer

  Otto gave me a warning look, and I fathomed the matter was too delicate to discuss any further.

  “I look forward to your presence at our court, Conrad.” I took my seat.

  I could not help but admire the boy. He was a handsome youth of twelve years with rich flaming curls touching his shoulders. Dark brown eyes glimmered with the same intelligence of his father. I understood why they called him Conrad the Red. Otto seemed fond of the lad and kept him at his side during the meal.

  Musicians struck up a gentle tune. Servants entered carrying platters piled high with roasted venison, a boar stuffed with bread and apple, pheasant sautéed in red wine, and myriad other delicacies. During the feast, Otto was attentive and polite, eager to distinguish which morsel of food pleased me more, which song lifted my spirits, whether my trencher needed refilling. Eadgyth filled my ears with ideas to enhance abbeys or donations to various churches; journeys we would make together; relics to collect. Around us, the room turned lively. Joyous laughter echoed between the columns.

  Time passed as if in a dream. My heart surged with elation at my reconciliation with Otto, yet I was also eager for Heinz to achieve peace with his brother. The gulf between my two eldest sons had never been greater, the void possibly too vast to overcome, at least not this night. No, this night was for celebration, for forgiveness, and the simple enjoyment of our reunion.

  There would be plenty of time to mark a new path for the future, one lacking thorns and upheaval. And with prayer, all things were possible. I would speak with Otto, without influence from advisors, or military commanders or chamberlains. Cautiously, I would guide our conversation, for my world would be empty, my joy incomplete, deprived of my beloved Heinz. He must return to stand by his brother’s side to govern together.

  I sipped my wine and leaned back in my chair.

  IT WAS TWO days later when I had my first opportunity to speak privately with Otto. We had departed for Aachen. A chill wind blew beneath gray, cloudy skies. In the surrounding pastures, the fields were bare, the harvest long over. Naked trees lined the road. Eadgyth had retreated to the shelter of the carriage and I braved the weather to ride alongside Otto, his ever-vigilant guards surrounding us. Our conversation had been lighthearted, about Otto's newest hunting falcon and a new pendant he was having designed for Eadgyth. When conversation paused, I seized my opportunity.

  “I wish to speak of Heinz.”

  He stiffened and stared at the road ahead. “What about him?”

  “He is your brother, my son–”

  “Who committed high treason against me,” Otto interrupted. His jaw twitched. “He should consider himself fortunate his head remains on his shoulders.”

  “But you didn’t order his death. Instead, you exiled him. That tells me you do not have the heart to cause him harm. You are the elder and the king. I beg you to offer peace.”

  “You ask the impossible.” Otto gripped the reins hard. “There is far too much anger between us.”

  “Anything can be mended with effort and compromise.”

  We had arrived at a stream and formed a single line to cross it. Otto traversed first and after his gelding reached the opposite side and climbed the bank, I followed, trotting up beside him.

  “You have already lost one brother. Must you lose another? Would it not be better to have his support instead of plotting against you?”

  “What are you proposing, Mother?” His voice carried a hint of frustration.

  Ever since childhood, Otto preferred directness to subtlety. “With Giselbert's death, there is no one to rule as duke of Lotharingia,” I blurted. “Offer it to Heinz.”

  He pressed his lips tight, his focus yet to waver from the path ahead.

  Undaunted by his silence, I said, “Many endorsed him for king during the elections.”

  “Among them, you.” A touch of bitterness laced his words as he gave me a pained look.

  “We must put the past behind us, for it is no longer significant. You are king now.” I paused and tempered my tone. “Heinz watched as you gave duchies and authority to others, but he received nothing. Your father would have given him something, no matter how small.”

  “And had he waited or offered me the slightest show of support, I would have granted him lands of his own to rule, but I was not ready to stir the ire of one of the dukes by stripping them of their duchy to hand it to my brother.”

  “That is no longer the case. By swearing fealty to King Louis, Giselbert lost his claim to the duchy of Lotharingia. Many of the Lotharingian nobles are loyal to Heinz. Fill the ducal vacancy with Heinz. By doing so, you provide him with the opportunity to work with you instead of against you. Only then, can there be peace between you. Lotharingia is an olive branch and it is you, as king, who must make the first move.”

  “Even though Heinz is not capable of running a duchy?”

  “You do not know that.”

  “When it comes to Heinz, you are blind. He lacks maturity, patience, and is easy to anger. These are not the qualities of a good ruler.”

  “But he is also generous, ambitious, charitable, and willing to work hard. You cannot take loyalty for granted, even from a brother. He must earn your allegiance as you must earn his. With no one to rule Lotharingia, the duchy is vulnerable. What if Heinz, with Louis’ help, marches into Lotharingia and claims it for Francia? Then it will be too late.”

  Otto frowned and cast me a glance. He comprehended the situation; it was my awareness of it that surprised him.

  “You forget that I was queen for many years. I am aware of political maneuverings. Your father often sought my counsel and heeded my advice. It served him well.”

  “I cannot make any promises, but I will consider it.” Otto turned his gaze straight ahead once more and retreated into his thoughts.

  I said nothing more. It was not the first time I had waited for a king to decide the worthiness of my suggestions before acting on it. It would be no different with my son.

  ELEVEN DAYS LATER, we arrived in Aachen beneath a rose pink sunset. Servants lit torches in the bailey as we rode beneath the portcullis. Although I would forever consider Quedlinburg my true home, to return to the palace of Karl the Great brought a sense of familiarity and homecoming.

  My heart pounded when the vision of a solitary woman appeared at the entrance. Her dark veil lifted in the breeze; her face stark against the shadows of the coming night. It was my daughter. As soon as my feet touched ground, Gerberga ran into my arms. It had been four months since Giselbert had died. Gerberga’s had been a happy union, as had mine with Heinrich. I knew the sting of the death of one’s husband. When we pulled apart, I brushed her tears away.

  “Welcome home, Mother.”

  “It is good to be home,” I responded. “And the children?”

  “They are happy to be here in Aachen. Wiltrude is too young to understand, but Heinrich and Alberade miss their father.

  Otto strode up behind us and I stepped back.

  “Gerberga…I uh, I am heartily sorry for Giselbert’s death. It sorely grieved me, you must believe me. Despite our differences, I hoped to one day overcome them. We tried to save him as he was swept away by the flowing waters of the River Rhein, but our attempts were futile. We were too late. Please forgive me for having failed you and your children.”

  Gerberga ran into his arms weeping. At the sight, my spirit became lighter, elation filled me that they bore no ill feelings for each other. How proud I was of both in that moment.

  “Your journey was long and it is late.” Eadgyth stepped forward and entwined her arm into Otto’s. “Your chambers have been readied. A bath awaits each of you, after which a meal will be brought.”

  Before we went inside, Otto stood back. He stroked his chin and assessed his sister for several moments. Then, with a gesture of his hand, invited me to lead the way indoors.

  I could not help but wonder what he had been thinking.

  IN THE MORNING, Otto received me in his rooms. He was dr
essed in hunting clothes, a brown over-tunic adorned with a simple pattern of embroidery. A table was laden with sweet rolls, honey, and dried fruit.

  “I hoped we might break fast together and discuss Heinz.”

  I tensed, but did my best to disguise it. We sat, and after helping ourselves to the fare, Otto cleared his throat. “I have contemplated your suggestion regarding giving Heinz Lotharingia.”

  “I suspected you would.” I smiled with the confidence of a mother who knew her son.

  “Your suggestion has merit, but there is one flaw.”

  “Oh.” I placed a piece of dried apple in my mouth.

  “Were I to offer the duchy to Heinz, he might reject it.”

  “He might,” I said as I leaned back in my chair, “but I do not believe he will.”

  “There is nothing to stop him from joining forces with King Louis of Francia and taking Lotharingia with him.”

  “I pray it will not come to that.”

  “But you cannot deny it might.”

  The amiable friendship between Heinz and Louis was no secret “No, I wish I could, but I cannot deny it.” I did not care for the direction this conversation was taking. Beneath the table, I gripped my gown.

  “It would be best to make the offer in a way that will create peace between me and my brother, and also bring Francia into the fold.”

  “Peace between countries is something to strive for.”

  “I am pleased to hear you say that.”

  “What have you planned?”

  Otto paused as he was about to take a piece of liverwurst. “I want to betroth Gerberga to King Louis.”

  A piece of sweet roll I held dropped from my hand. “It is too soon. She is newly widowed and still grieves.”

  “It is never too soon. Three years ago, Hugh, Hedwiga’s husband, brought Louis back from captivity in England and placed him on Francia’s throne. If Heinz allies himself with Hugh and Louis, I will be at war over Lotharingia. But if I offer Lotharingia to Heinz, and Gerberga marries Louis, Lotharingia remains within our family and there will be peace.” He came to stand at my side, taking my hand in his. “I have heard Louis is kind and generous. Gerberga and her children would be well treated.”

  It sounded easy, but doubt troubled me. It was too simple. “Have you spoken with Gerberga regarding this?”

  “I thought we might speak with her together. Once she understands the political significance, I believe she will agree.”

  “And if she does not?

  “You have my word I will not force her into the marriage.”

  It was a good solution, but after solving one conflict between my children, would this raise another? I was unsure how Gerberga would respond; her union with Giselbert had been a happy one. Perhaps it was too soon to expect her to enter into another. And what of Otto? He seemed sincere in his promise to allow Gerberga her say, but I knew the powerful lure of his ambition. If she refused, could I trust him not to compel her? And yet I must, for I had no choice.

  GERBERGA LISTENED attentively to Otto, who paced as he spoke.

  “But Louis is nineteen years of age, six years younger than me,” she argued.

  “I will ensure your wealth is independent of his—yours to do with as you wish, and if you should ever require assistance, in any way, at any time, you need only send word to me. I vow to protect you.”

  Gerberga twirled the stem of her silver goblet. “Queen of Francia,” she whispered tentatively. She set the chalice on the table, and then stared at her brother.

  Otto grinned. “A well-deserved title.”

  “And you, Mother? Are you in favor of the union?” Gerberga inquired.

  “You are far too young to remain a widow or spend the rest of your life in an abbey. Otto’s suggestion is a good one. King Louis may be young, but he is fair and beloved by his people and respected by his vassals.”

  I sipped from my goblet, savoring the sweet taste of the honeyed pomegranate juice against my tongue. Her silence encouraged me to continue. “Your strength and wisdom will balance with his youth and inexperience. With Otto’s assurances that he will provide you with wealth and keep a vigilant eye over your marriage, there is little risk. It is a chance to end the enmity in our family, and you will be nearer to Hedwiga in Paris. However, it is for you to decide. Otto promised he will not force you to marry if you do not wish to.” I gave Otto a pointed glare in reminder.

  He responded with a nod.

  “And what does King Louis think of the union?”

  Otto’s lips tightened. “He is far too wise to refuse the offer. The only consequences are good ones.”

  “I have heard good things about Louis from Hedwiga, who is fond of him,” Gerberga said. “I agree it would be a good match, but…”

  “But you have concerns?” Otto pulled a chair up close to the table and straddled it.

  “My children…they have lost their father, and my daughter, Gerberga, is of the age to commence her education in an abbey.”

  “That shall not change. As for my nephew Heinrich, he can stay here with me and undergo military training,” Otto offered.

  “But my two youngest…” Gerberga’s voice faded. “It would be best if they accompany me to Francia.”

  “I shall make it part of the betrothal contract,” Otto assured her. “Whatever you wish, I will include in its terms. If Louis is as shrewd as everyone says he is, he will not hesitate to accept.”

  “Marriage does appeal to me…” She rose to gaze into the fire blazing in the hearth.

  Long moments passed. Otto glanced impatiently in my direction; I raised my palm to signal endurance.

  Gerberga’s gaze did not waver from the flames. “I agree to the marriage.” She swung around, her body straight, her expression as blank as if she were purchasing a psalter. “But you will ensure I have full say over each detail of the betrothal proposal before it is presented to King Louis and that I must give my approval should he have any amendments.”

  Otto rose to embrace her. Then he held her at arms’ length. “You would make a formidable opponent; one I would hesitate to cross. You have made a wise decision; one I am certain you will not regret.”

  “I had better not, dear brother.” Gerberga squeezed his chin playfully before giving his cheek a slap. “You may be king, but you are my younger brother and I can still defeat you in a game of chess.”

  “Never again!” He rolled his eyes. “I have no desire to suffer another thrashing at the game board.”

  I exhaled with relief at their good humor, yet I remained cautious. We had made great gains, but our plan had yet to be set in motion. After all, a streak of stubbornness ran through the veins of my late husband’s sons.

  I SAT ALONE at a writing table in my bedchamber, a blank sheet of vellum, inkwell, and quill set before me. I had yet to write a word. My thoughts swirled with a thousand words I longed to say to my beloved son after my time of exile.

  Outside, the snow fell gently on the bare trees and naked earth, painting the world in brilliant purity. If only my family were as untainted as the virgin snow. Fires crackled in two braziers, radiating comforting warmth as I took up the quill and dipped it into the inkwell. With the heartfelt longing of a mother for her son, I began…

  Heinz, my beloved son,

  It is with great joy that I write to inform you of my return to Aachen at Otto’s behest. We have made peace over the events that caused my separation. He has restored all that he seized and has increased my wealth twofold. With his blessing, I have resumed my charitable duties, but my joy cannot be complete. Return to me.

  Otto is prepared to make you Duke of Lotharingia. You have only to come back nd seek his forgiveness to resolve the discord between you—you for the rebellion you participated in against him, and he for not finding you a place in his kingdom when he became king. I implore you to make peace with Otto. You belong at his side. To bring peace between our kingdom and Francia, Otto has offered Gerberga in marriage to King Louis, and s
he is amenable to the match.

  Return home to me. It was your father’s wish for you to aid your brother. It is time to set aside bitterness and embrace a future of peace and hope.

  I cannot describe how much I have missed you and how our separation has pained me. I pray you will journey to Aachen where I await our reunion.

  Your loving mother, Matilde

  I folded the letter and secured it with a purple silk ribbon. With a hopeful heart, I delivered it to Otto. Together, with his personal message to Heinz and the offer to Louis proposing marriage to Gerberga, he handed the three documents to a messenger. A troop of ten imperial guardsmen rode out to bear them to Francia.

  A MONTH PASSED without word from Heinz or Louis. I blamed the weather. Early snowfalls and inclement weather made the roads impassable. Then on a bright cold morning, Heinz and Louis arrived surrounded by a cavalcade of soldiers, the banners and standards of Francia snapping in the cold wind.

  My heart yearned to run and greet my son, but because of King Louis’ presence, I was obliged to follow the protocol for visiting dignitaries. I sent servants scurrying to prepare for their arrival and summoned Gerberga. Then I swept into the Council Hall and walked through the vast room towards the dais at the front where Otto and Eadgyth already occupied their thrones. We greeted each other then I accepted my customary seat to their right.

  I stilled my tremulous hands as I waited for Heinz to appear. I prayed to see him safe and healthy, recovered from his wound. My heart leapt when I saw a flash of movement; Gerberga hurried into the room. She gave me a nervous smile before adjusting her garments as she sat beside me. Her violet over-tunic and matching veil enhanced her flushed cheeks and enhanced the brilliance of her blue eyes.

  Six unarmed imperial guards escorted Louis and Heinz into the hall. The click of spurs against the stone floors echoed among the arches and beams of the high ceiling. My breath hitched at the sight of my beloved son. He strode into the room, his expression tense. Beneath his mantle, he hid his wounded left arm. His golden hair fell to his shoulders. Now twenty, he was taller—lankier, too, likely due to his illness. He observed me for a brief instant and then studied Otto.