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

by Mirella Sichirollo Patzer

  With head held high and a calm expression, King Louis d'Outremer stood confidently beside Heinz, at ease with himself. An attractive young man, the only similarity between them was their fair hair. Louis' high cheeks bore the ruddiness of good health. A crooked nose confirmed it had once been broken. When he stopped in front of the dais, his eyes sparkled at the sight of Gerberga, who returned an assessing sweep of her own. Despite his tender years, Louis had proven himself a formidable foe and powerful king.

  Louis gave a gallant bow. “King Otto, I have come in peace to speak with you regarding your letter and the betrothal documents, and of course, to accompany your brother to you.” Beneath his silver breastplate, he wore a dark blue shirt embroidered at the sleeves with silver and azure fleurs-de-lis.

  “Welcome.” Otto’s gaze roamed from Louis to Heinz. “Both of you.”

  Heinz raised his brows as he eyed his elder brother. Then he relaxed.

  “Meet my wife, Eadgyth, my mother, Matilde, and my sister, Gerberga,” Otto announced.

  Again, Louis bowed. When he straightened, he observed Gerberga from head to toe, and by his broad grin, I knew he was pleased. “You are a fortunate man to be surrounded by such beauty.”

  “The women of Saxony are revered not only for their beauty, but for their wisdom and goodness of heart.”

  “As I have heard. Now the proof is before me.”

  “I trust your journey was pleasant,” Otto stated.

  “We made swift progress because we traveled light.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Otto rose and stepped off the dais, extending his hand to Louis, who grasped it. “We have much to discuss, but after such a long journey, you must be hungry. Rooms have been prepared and there is space in the armory for your men. Later, we will feast in your honor.”

  Otto crooked his fingers at a waiting serf. “Escort the king to his quarters and convey his belongings to him there.”

  Louis’s gaze rested on Gerberga once more. Then he swung around, exchanged a glance with Heinz, and with mantle billowing behind him, swept from the room.

  Otto turned his full attention to Heinz.

  My sons eyed each other in the strained silence. The moment seemed to last an eternity, their stances straight as boards, their scrutiny unwavering in a wordless contest. My palms grew damp as I gripped my chair’s armrests. Who would be the first to speak? I prayed for it to be Heinz. Only when he stepped forward to offer Otto his hand, did I expel my pent-up breath.

  Otto pulled Heinz to him in a rough, protracted embrace that brought Gerberga and me to our feet. My vision blurred with tears.

  “Forgive me,” Heinz said in a voice hoarse with emotion.

  They pulled apart, still gripping each other’s shoulders.

  Otto grinned.

  I hurried down the dais steps. Otto stepped aside to make room. My legs trembled, and my heart brimmed with happiness as I embraced Heinz, inhaling the scent of leather and horseflesh and wind.

  Heinz, now a man full grown, shuddered. “Mother,” he sobbed.

  Unable to speak, I cupped his chin with my hands.

  “Mother, I do not deserve your love after having caused you such offense. I beg your forgiveness. I implore you to allow me back into your favor, as I once enjoyed it. From the moment I caused enmity between us, my life has been difficult, at peril from a grave illness.” He wept.

  For the first time, I noticed how his arm hung at an awkward angle beneath his sleeve. I lay my hand atop the heavy wrappings. “Don't cry, my child. I cannot bear to hear such entreaties from you. May God be faithful and gentle to you; I love you as I did before.”

  Heinz raised my hand to his lips and kissed it.

  “It is behind us. Everything, my dower lands and coins and jewels, have been returned to me.” I reached for Otto who stepped closer. “Otto made me first in his kingdom and aids me in offering solace to the poor and constructing churches and monasteries.”

  Gerberga too, came forward. “It's good to see you again, brother.”

  “I am sorry, Gerberga,” Heinz said with a pained expression. “I regret what happened to Giselbert. We were the best of friends.” He embraced her. “Before he died, he spoke of you, your children, and of your happiness together.”

  “I am glad you told me. Nothing can bring him back, but it comforts me to know he thought of us at the end.”

  Heinz wiped away one of her tears. “If you are to marry Louis, you will need your humor, for he is a man who laughs and jests. You are happy about the union, are you not?” He frowned and glanced over at Otto.

  “Of course, she is happy. If not, I would never allow it.”

  Heinz peered at her for verification.

  Gerberga sighed. “I cannot deny Giselbert’s death tore me apart with grief. It still does, but life must continue. He would want me to find happiness again.”

  “I pray you will find it.”

  She sniffled, then forced a smile. “Besides, you have known me all my life. When something displeases me, I am not one to sit back and not complain.”

  “That is true. I remember the time I stole into your bedchamber and placed a dead toad at the foot of your bed. You were angry. Though I begged you not to tell, you marched right into the Council Hall and interrupted father as he was judging cases. I spent the next few days honing daggers and swords at the whetstone for the guardsmen.”

  “What you didn't realize, dear brother, was I secretly brought in additional knives from the kitchen and those of the older warriors too. In that way, I was able to triple your toil.”

  “You knew of my punishment?” Heinz asked.

  Gerberga batted her eyelashes. “It was I who suggested it to Father.”

  Laughter rang through the hall, a balm to my spirit. It had been a long time since I heard such banter. “Come, everyone. It is time for Heinz to bathe. He smells as bad as a lathered horse on a hot day.”

  This brought another round of merriment intermingled with friendly jibes and taunts. As we made our way out of the Council Hall, my heart glowed with pride. How was I to know that no amount of optimism could prevent the troubles that would soon strike us again?

  I FOLLOWED HEINZ to his rooms for a moment of privacy with him before the evening feast. Servants came and went carrying hot water for his bath. I sat on the edge of the bed. “Show me your arm.” With a mother’s fear, I watched him remove his shirt. At the sight of his wrapped arm, my legs become weak. I pulled him down to sit next to me. With care, I unwrapped the bindings. Red, angry flesh surrounded a long gash the entire length of his left forearm. Several lumps were visible beneath his skin from wrist to bicep. The break to his arm was poorly set, leaving his arm with an unnatural curve.

  “Please bring me balm and fresh bindings,” I asked one of the servants after he emptied a bucket of water into the bath. The man bowed and left the room.

  “How did it happen?”

  A faraway look came over Heinz as he lowered his gaze to his arm. “I took a slash from a sword. It was a mere flesh wound at first, but then my horse shied and I was thrown. The bone pierced through my flesh. I lost consciousness when Giselbert set it.”

  “Giselbert?”

  “There were only the two of us hiding from Otto’s soldiers.”

  “I will send for the physician.”

  “I doubt there is anything anyone can do. In Paris, Louis called for the most experienced physicians in all of Francia. Everything that could be done was done, and I am grateful to God my arm did not putrefy. They saved my limb, barely, but warned me that it will always cause me pain and will never fully heal.”

  Thinking that Heinz could have died in battle against his brother was more than I could bear. The conflict between us had brought severe misfortune to them both, but by the grace of God, Heinz had survived.

  “You must promise never to enter into discord with your brother or anyone in our family again.”

  He scowled and glanced away.

  I grasped his cheek a
nd turned him back to face me. “Promise me.”

  His jaw clenched beneath my steady glare, yet he did not turn away.

  “Promise me,” I repeated more firmly.

  He nodded. “You have my word.”

  “I shall hold you to that.”

  “If I had been the one on the throne, none of this would have happened.”

  “But it did happen, Heinz. You must accept your fate. Weave your own path through this world. As Duke of Lotharingia, you will have the opportunity to do good deeds. Rule wisely, earn the respect of your vassals, and good fortune will be returned to you tenfold.”

  He shook his head and said no more. I left him to his bath, but as I walked away, I could not dispel the doubts that arose.

  EARLY THE NEXT morning, we met in a receiving room near the Council Hall to negotiate the betrothal. Gerberga and Louis sat at opposite ends of the long table. It pleased me to see them exchange a few curious glances and intermittent smiles. I inquired about Louis’ mother, Ogiva, also a widow.

  “My mother is of good health, Domina,” Louis answered. “She is eager for me to make an excellent marriage and can think of no better bride for me than your daughter.” His glance kept flicking to Gerberga.

  A tinge of pink flushed my daughter’s cheeks at the compliment.

  “You are fortunate to have such a wise mother. I have long admired her. Heinz told me of your affection for her, of how you treat her kindly and with much liberality. I believe the manner in which a man loves and respects his mother transfers to his wife. I trust you will care for my daughter if she becomes your wife.”

  Louis cleared his throat. “You have my assurance in that regard, but I fear you might change your mind after I tell you what I must.” He folded his hands on the tabletop. “I can’t pay a bride price at this time.”

  Silence befell us.

  What game was this? How could a king not pay a bride price?

  My glance fell on Gerberga who sat stiffly with a puzzled frown.

  Louis rested his palms on the table. “After my father’s death, and three successive usurpers to my throne, I inherited a damaged kingdom. I am king of a diminished realm limited to Laon and some areas north of Francia. My nobles feud against me, usurping my lands and industries. Courage, prudence, and shrewd planning are my weapons, which have helped me overcome many difficulties, but there is more to do if I wish to restore my kingdom to its former state. I have little to offer my future wife. I cannot pay a bride price, and hence, it is unfair to expect a dowry from you in return. I will understand if you withdraw the offer of marriage.”

  I glanced at Otto who sat rigidly with a neutral expression. Gerberga’s posture had relaxed; a tiny smile curled her lips.

  Honesty, which this man possessed in droves, was a valuable, rare quality.

  I respected him immensely, and I suspected so did Gerberga judging by her pleased expression.

  Before anyone could respond, Louis addressed Gerberga as if she were the sole person in the room. “All I can offer you is my heart, my protection, and the title of queen. What little I own is ours to share. One day, I swear to regain what I have lost, and you shall enjoy everything you deserve as my queen, and more. This I promise.”

  Otto leaned back, and with critical regard addressed Louis. “I have heard you govern fairly, and are bold, not rash. Despite your misfortunes, you are mindful of the importance of being a good king. These qualities gave you the strength to endure the conflicts you have faced. I have heard that you fight with royal spirit.” He steepled his fingers and paused. “I have no objection to a marriage without a bride price, but before anything is decided I would speak to my sister in private.”

  Louis nodded. “I understand.”

  “There is no need,” Gerberga interjected. “You have been honest and sincere. If we wed, I shall be a loyal queen, to you and to the people of your kingdom. I would be honored to be your wife.”

  Louis’ jaw dropped and he leaned back in his chair.

  Otto grinned at Louis. “So be it. No bride price is necessary, but I insist on giving Gerberga a settlement so she will have her own means, should she require anything. You shall have my assistance if you ever need my help.” Otto rose and offered Louis his hand.

  I prayed their bond would stay strong as I rose to embrace my future son by marriage. He raised my hand to his lips.

  “I am pleased to accept you as a son.”

  “You honor me. I have heard of your many kindnesses and your acts of goodwill, and now know them to be true.”

  I stepped back to allow Gerberga to address her betrothed. When she attempted to curtsey, he stopped her by taking her hand and raising it to his lips, kissed it. “I could not have found a better wife and future mother to my children.”

  LIGHTHEARTEDNESS FILLED OUR days as we prepared for the wedding. Linens, gold and silver goblets, furs, bolts of cloth, candles, and numerous items necessary to make a comfortable home, as well as coins, were gathered then assembled in wooden chests.

  On a cold autumn afternoon, beneath the spectacular dome of the Palatine Chapel, Gerberga and Louis signed the documents proclaiming them husband and wife, detailing her rights and those of her children.

  Official decrees declaring Heinz as Duke of Lotharingia, and bestowing on him the appropriate lands, residences, and taxes, were also signed. My son had assumed his rightful place in the kingdom. The promise of peace between my children filled me with hope—Otto and Heinz in support of each other, Brun who would take his place in the Holy Church one day, and our daughters happily wed. This was Heinrich’s dream. How proud he would have been.

  I stood with Otto and Eadgyth in the inner bailey to bid farewell to Louis and Gerberga for their return to Francia. Heinz would travel part of the way with them. As I watched them ride away, our troubles waned against promises for a rich future.

  Eadgyth linked her arm with mine. I placed my other hand over hers. “I am so pleased.”

  I squeezed her hand. “I thank you for your persistence and all you did to bring my sons together.”

  Otto joined us.

  “And I credit you too, my son.”

  He placed his arm around my shoulder. “Come, it is cold. Time to go inside where there is warmth.”

  Together we entered the palace. Little did I know that the winds of war would soon rise to strike deeper into the heart of our family, and tear us apart again.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  A.D. 940

  Aachen

  TRUE TO HIS word, Otto no longer interfered in my charitable duties. Rather, he joined me in many endeavors. Architects drew up plans for several new churches and abbeys, not only in Saxony, but in other duchies as well. Having heard of an Episcopal vacancy at Regensburg, I traveled there with Otto and Eadgyth who were to help choose the new bishop. For once, Otto had no particular man in mind.

  The night before we arrived, a strange dream came to me, which I described to Otto. He listened as I gave him my interpretation. “My vision foretells that the first person you meet when we arrive, will become the next bishop.”

  He stared straight ahead, silent; a sign he was considering my advice, despite its outrageousness. I had come to trust my dreams, but my sons preferred to let logic rule over blind belief. We spoke no more about it.

  We arrived at the monastery at St. Emmeram. By the locked gates, it was obvious the monks were not expecting us. The first person we encountered was the porter, an old frail monk named Gunther, who admitted us.

  Otto dismounted and addressed him. “Brother Gunther, what could you offer if you become bishop?”

  I sucked in a breath.

  The old man’s withered lips formed a grin. It was obvious he thought Otto was jesting because he raised his bare, calloused foot from beneath the hem of his cassock. He wiggled his short, stubby toes. “My shoes!”

  We laughed at his good-hearted jest. Otto and I shared a discerning look, and I did not bother to hide the tiny smirk rising on my lips.r />
  We shared a meal with the clerics. After the table was cleared of platters, and only cups and flagons remained, the electoral discussions commenced. Of all the men in the room, it was Brother Gunther whom everyone unanimously supported. Just as my dream prophesized, he became the next bishop. Eadgyth made the sign of the cross the moment it was announced. Amid booming applause, Otto and I exchanged expressions of wonderment. God is never wrong.

  This was one stop of many on our travels through the kingdom.

  One night, we received a messenger from Hugh, Hedwiga’s husband who was at odds with King Louis again. Louis was laying claim to his paternal lands that Hugh held in his possession. We knew little else, other than Louis had raised an army against Hugh. Louis was defeated. To bring peace between my daughter’s husbands, Otto sent troops to Francia. Louis was driven back and found refuge in Burgundy.

  We received no word concerning the dispute from Heinz or Louis and Gerberga, but this was expected due to the winter weather. I waited for spring, when the roads would become passable again and the flow of messengers in and out of the palace would resume. In the meantime, I would pray for peace.

  BRUTAL WINDS BLOW black clouds across a desolate valley. I stand on the crest of a hill staring at a barren dell void of color and life. Otto is poised atop a solitary boulder. Mist swirls at his feet. In his hand, he carries the Holy Lance. The wind buffets his mantle as he glares blindly ahead.

  On an opposite hill, a young man appears with a troop of men behind him. I try to distinguish his face, but he is too far away. Unease sweeps over me. His troops lunge forward, descending into the valley and gliding through the mists, the wind howling around them. They advance toward Otto who seems unaware of their approach behind him.