HEDWIGA AND HUGH arrived at midday with a large entourage. For the first time, I embraced my grandchildren Beatrice and Hugh, jubilant to see them as hale and hearty as their parents. Eadgyth and Otto moved to greet them too, but a handful of bodyguards tightened their stance around Otto. Puzzled, I cast my son a perplexed look, but he ignored it. Amid chatter and laughter, I led everyone indoors. Immersed in chatter, I forgot to ask Otto about the need for so many guards.
The next day, Gerberga and Louis arrived with Heinz. It pleased me to learn my daughter expected a child. Now past childhood, Wiltrude, and young Heinrich, Gerberga’s children by Giselbert, stepped forward to greet their mother and new stepfather. Alberade remained in Quedlinburg to be educated at our abbey, while young Heinrich trained with Otto’s military tutors. Despite barely knowing them, Louis was genuinely affectionate with both children.
Hedwiga greeted them, but Hugh was absent, refusing to greet his nemesis. He and Louis had become bitter enemies over lands and power Louis sought to reclaim.
Heinz stood next to Louis, still as a stone, his face solemn. My arms wide, he entered my embrace. “You look fit,” I said after we pulled apart. I glanced at his ruined limb, which was no longer bandaged, though it still hung limp by his side.
Like an ominous black cloud, I sensed Otto's presence behind us. I stepped back to allow Heinz to greet his brother. No less than four guards surrounded Otto. Another twenty or more encircled the circumference of the bailey, hands poised near their swords, studying the new arrivals. An unmistakable tension hovered over us, and I fought to understand why.
Otto held his ground as Heinz took a tentative step forward and knelt before him.
Otto gave him a harsh look. “Rise, brother.”
Heinz rose and in a voice filled with apprehension said, “It is good to see you again.”
Otto acknowledged him with a nod then turned and swept into the castle, guards in tow.
Heinz's jaw twitched at the rebuff. Louis and Gerberga exchanged a nervous glance.
“Please come inside,” Eadgyth said, an uneasy smile playing on her lips. “You must be fatigued from your journey.”
With a growing sense of apprehension, I followed.
I SAT ON the stone bench in the crypt. Beneath the grate at my feet lay Heinrich’s tomb. I entwined prayer beads between the fingers of my right hand. My left, I held over my heart. For three years, fate had kept me from Quedlinburg. To be near my beloved once more, albeit at his grave, was no small comfort. My grief resurfaced, and in the solitude, I unburdened myself to my husband’s spirit. Chief among them, my dream of Heinz about to strike Otto that lingered like an unwanted fever in my thoughts, an ominous foreboding I could not shake.
“Your sorrow is mine, my love. You never imagined such dissension between your sons. My worst fears have come true. God has taken Thankmar. Let there not be another son lost in dispute. I pray for you to keep watch over them, to keep them safe, as well as the rest of our family.”
Time became lost to me as I sat beneath the stone arches curling above the tall pillars in the narrow room. When the bells of Terce rang, I rose, blew a kiss into the grave, and left to join the rest of my family at prayers.
The once simple chapel had become the grandest of structures. Beautiful columns with ornamental capitals and rounded arches lined the vast room. The spacious interior and remarkable achievements of architects and stonemasons left me awestruck. Beyond the nave was a Treasury, filled with the work of goldsmiths and silversmiths, and stunning ivory carvings.
Eadgyth waited near the altar, as did the remainder of my family. I made my way to the front and bowed my head. The scrape of the doors opening behind us caught my attention. Armed guards, spurs jangling against the stone floor, swords swinging in their scabbards, surrounded Otto as he entered and made his way to where Eadgyth and I knelt. The men placed themselves around the nave beneath windows and blocked the doors to prevent anyone from entering or leaving. I exchanged glances with Eadgyth. Her expression was as confused as mine.
Gerberga leaned over. “Why are there guards everywhere?” she whispered.
I shrugged. “I am as puzzled as you. I have never seen Otto with so many men. These days, he goes nowhere without them.”
Louis and Heinz exchanged curious looks. Hugh crossed his arms and frowned in bafflement.
As if unaware of us, and as if it were the most natural thing in the world for a king to surround himself by a constant contingent of guards, Otto kept his focus on the altar as we waited for the Mass to begin.
Archbishop Freidrich of Mainz entered through a door situated to the right of altar. Tall and lanky, with a pointed chin and beak-like nose, I could not help but compare his appearance to that of a hawk. Rumors circulated about him; of his greed, his ambition for power, his fast accumulating wealth, his ruthlessness. With Brun at his side, he commenced. Beneath a raised eyebrow, Brun gave Otto a simple nod. No one else noticed the exchange but me. Could it be because Otto had captured and imprisoned the archbishop in Hammelburg for a while, but later pardoned him. Now, Friedrich officiated at our prayers, living proof reconciliation was possible. Or was it?
In every movement, in every breath, tension hovered over us like a malignant odor. I could not understand it, but was determined to learn why.
When Mass ended, Otto took Eadgyth's elbow, and exited the chapel with his guards. I must speak with him immediately. Nothing less would appease the warning roaring in my thoughts. But as each day passed, no opportunity presented itself. Otto’s behavior continued to be odd. He went nowhere without the large entourage of armed men. Most alarming, no less than three food tasters appeared at each banquet to test and approve each dish set before him. He barely spoke with Heinz and his conversation with the Archbishop Freidrich was strained, but polite, and always trivial.
Witnessing these precautions, family and guests became uneasy. Meals in the Great Hall lacked the boisterous laughter usually present. Hugh and Louis never spoke, and avoided each other whenever possible. Awkwardness developed between Gerberga and Hedwiga too, because of the growing rift between their husbands. Only the children seemed oblivious to any strain.
Easter morning dawned gray and gloomy with steady rain. Our family gathered for Mass in the chapel then we convened in the Great Hall for the feast. Otto entered with Eadgyth. Far too many guards encircled them once again. We sat according to rank, Gerberga, Louis, and me at the high table beside the Otto and Eadgyth. Heinz shared a table with the archbishop, Hedwiga, and Hugh.
I glanced around the room. The number of guards spread across the room had multiplied. More waited outside. After the somber Lenten period, everyone’s spirits should have been uplifted as Easter was a day for celebration. Yet the atmosphere was as eerie as the calm before the first crack of thunder in a storm.
The aroma of roasting venison filled the Great Hall. Servants carried platters of food to the tables. Others tapped casks of wine and ale to keep pitchers filled. Guests remained watchful as the food tasters at Otto’s shoulder sampled every piece of food placed in his trencher. Satisfied the king’s food was safe, they took their places on a bench behind the head table, visible to everyone lest they suffer any adverse effects. Otto kept everyone waiting before he commenced eating. A hum of conversation began, but remained restrained, failing to gain momentum, despite the wine and ale that flowed freely.
I picked at the food on my plate. Something was amiss. I tried to recall recent dreams, but only the portent of Heinz striking Otto came to mind. Still, I could make no sense of it. Otto appeared serene and did his best to converse with Louis and the rest of us at the high table. At Heinz’s table, I saw him lean toward the archbishop and whisper in his ear. The archbishop glanced at Otto then turned away. Heinz glanced nervously around the room before staring at his food.
When the meal ended, Otto rose to make a speech. He spoke of the virtues of family, praised Heinz and Brun, and even thanked the archbishop for his presence and loyalty.
Loyalty? His magnanimous words, so full of praise, smacked with sarcasm. Was I the only one who had detected it? No one else seemed to notice, so I shrugged off such thoughts.
Celebrations continued as afternoon carried on into night, but ended earlier than usual because many of the guests planned to depart at dawn.
When I lay in bed, tired as I was, sleep eluded me. I listened to the wind and rain beyond my window trying to make sense of the last few days, recalling each strained interaction or awkward exchange between my sons. Eventually, sleep overtook me, but it was a broken rest; distorted with sporadic dreams, dark and disturbing. Sometime during the hours before dawn, I heard horses galloping away from the bailey. I rose and hurried to the window. Whoever it was had already ridden beneath the open gate and had disappeared from sight.
“MATILDE, IT IS morning, and time to rise.”
I emerged from my slumber. Sister Ricburg hovered at my bedside with a worried expression. “The king summons everyone to the Great Hall.”
Maidservants were already at work in the antechamber of my room, rummaging through chests and preparing the water for my ablutions.
My mind snapped into alertness. “Did he give a reason?”
“Only that he wanted everyone present.”
“But the bells of Prime have not yet rung.” A shiver of apprehension coursed through me.
In the passage, I encountered Gerberga and Louis. “What is this regarding, Mother?” Gerberga asked.
I shook my head. “I do not know.”
We hurried into the Great Hall. Eadgyth sat in her place at the high table, while Otto paced behind her, a scowl on his face. Hedwiga, Hugh, and Brun were already there. Heinz and the archbishop were missing, as were several other noblemen. Had the clatter of hooves I heard in the night been evidence of their departure? A ball of stone settled in the pit of my stomach as I took my seat.
Otto nodded to two guards who closed the doors. He faced the crowd and cleared his throat. “What was to be a joyful celebration turned into one of dissension! A plot to assassinate me has been uncovered. Out of respect for my mother, I took no action and did not prevent those responsible from leaving.”
Eadgyth gave me a pained look. Otto must have told her about this already.
I clutched both armrests of my chair in anticipation, fortifying myself. My mind screamed my son’s name. Heinz! Logic told me not to panic, but in the core of my being, I knew the truth.
“My guards are pursuing those responsible. They will be caught, hanged, or imprisoned according to the part they played in the attempt to murder me.”
“Who are they?” I groaned these words.
Otto knelt at my side, and grasped my hand. “Heinz is among them, as is Archbishop Freidrich of Mainz. I am sorry.”
A ringing exploded in my ears. My body trembled. And I finally understood my dream of Heinz about to strike Otto.
NO ONE KNEW of Heinz’s whereabouts, but Otto unleashed an army to find him and the archbishop. They searched every corner of the kingdom.
I did not want to believe Heinz capable of such a plot, but could not deny it. His sudden flight made him appear guilty. Why? Was it because of his humiliation over losing his duchy? Likely he was angry at Otto for having refused to reinstate him as duke after he had supported Otto in battle.
To plan his brother’s assassination was a crime tenfold worse than his previous rebellion. Had his ambitions swelled to the point he would murder his own brother to achieve them? Historically speaking, it was not the first time one brother killed another to acquire a throne. Otto stood between Heinz and the Saxon throne; and men who would kill for money were always at hand. Because I had favored Heinz, had I brought to life the evil aspirations within him? A knot of worry sat like a rock in my gut.
Otto must have learned of the conspiracy before Easter. It explained why he had surrounded himself with guards and food tasters. Praise God Otto was alive! Gratitude whirled in my mind. Otto’s wrath would be boundless. My disappointment in Heinz knew no limits. I sunk deep into melancholy and utter anguish waiting. Daily I prayed at Heinrich’s tomb or in my private chapel. Sleep eluded me. The taste of food became abhorrent on my tongue. It felt as if God had forsaken me and I wept for His forgiveness. I blamed myself for favoring one son over. Each day passed wretchedly. Acts of charity, once a balm for my spirit, were lost to me.
Finally, we received word Heinz and Archbishop Friedrich had been located in Ingelheim. Otto’s troops surrounded the town and laid siege to it, barring wagons of food, water, and other supplies from entering. Similarly, no person could enter or leave. I pleaded with Otto not to harm Heinz, and to enter into discussions with him, but he gave me no answer, made me no promises.
Eight long months passed, and the blockade continued with no end in sight. Otto remained in Quedlinburg the entire time. My hope for a successful conclusion and for my sons to be reconciled began to die a slow, dreary death.
Chapter Thirty
A.D. 941
November
Quedlinburg
OTTO SAT ON the stone bench at his father’s tomb, elbows on his knees, and chin resting on his fists. I came upon him quietly and sat beside him. He turned to me, dark circles beneath his tormented eyes. At nine and twenty, the crown weighed like a boulder on his shoulders. He had been king for four years, with each year more unsettled than the last.
I stared deep into the grate at Heinrich’s tomb. I kept my silence, pondering how to breach the vast chasm dividing our sons.
“There are days when I think Father will come walking around the corner with that grin he always wore, but then I remember he is no longer with us.”
Otto’s tone was wistful, tired, and it gave me hope I might influence him towards a peaceful reconciliation with his brother.
“I too, have moments when I believe he is alive. It is difficult to believe nearly five years have passed since we lost him. I mourn him still.”
Otto remained pensive. I let the silence to prevail until he spoke again. “I wonder what he would think about all that has happened these past few years.”
“He would not be pleased, but I am certain he would be proud of you.”
He beheld me with surprise.
I boldly continued. “Another king might have executed Heinz for his previous rebellion, but you spared your brother, and even forgave him. This gives me hope you will do so again. It is what God would wish. It is what your father would want.”
“And it is what you would wish.”
“Yes, it is.”
He rubbed his right fist in his left palm, his regard never straying from the grate. “The path of kingship is a solitary one, fraught with conflict at every turn. It would have been better to have had my brothers by my side instead of fighting against me.”
“That was your father’s intent, and it might have been that way had it not been for me.”
“You?” He pinched his brows together and cocked his head. “You cannot bear Heinz’s burden alone.”
“If I had not pushed for Heinz to be king, he might have been content to be second. But I raised his hopes, sought the necessary supporters, and made him believe he would be the better ruler.” I paused. “I was wrong.”
“It always bothered me that you favored him above me.”
“I have prayed a million times for God to forgive me, but my instinct to safeguard Heinz was too strong. He was born under a cloud of misfortune, so I felt he needed more protection than any of our other children.”
I could not reveal the exact circumstances of Heinz’s birth.
How could I speak of Heinrich’s drunken sin that night so long ago when he had taken me by force? These were not words for a mother to speak to a son. “Perhaps I treated him differently because I knew his destiny would not be a good one.”
Otto stroked his chin. “The people of Ingelheim are suffering because of the siege. Food supplies have dwindled and no one has been allowed through the town gates, yet my brother and the bisho
p refuse to surrender.” His jaw twitched. “Tell me, what would Father do in my place?”
“Your father would ask me to go there and use my influence to negotiate a truce. Eadgyth and I are planning to visit Lorsch Abbey. Ingelheim is nearby.”
Otto rose. “Go to Heinz, then. You are the only person who can reason with him.”
A glimmer of light amid the darkness! I cried with relief as Otto walked away until the click of his heels striking the stone floor faded.
SERVANTS, GUARDS, HORSES, and carts filled the bailey in preparation for our departure. Beneath a cool gray sky, Eadgyth and Otto walked hand in hand around the perimeter with their children, Liutgarde thirteen, and Liudolf eleven. The laughter and chatter of their happiness carried on the late autumn breeze, filling my ears with splendid melody. Otto stopped to kiss Eadgyth’s cheek, and then she embraced her children. I smiled when Liudolf glanced away embarrassed, a trait I recognized from when my sons were the same age.
We mounted our horses, and rode through the protective gates. Filled with pleasant conversation, our journey progressed peacefully, uneventfully. Eadgyth and I would journey together until Russelheim where we would part ways. Eadgyth would ride south to Lorsch Abby with gifts and donations, and I would travel west to Ingelheim. The abbey at Lorsch was a favorite of Eadgyth’s. Its basilica housed the relics of Saint Nazarius, martyred in Rome. Pilgrims came from everywhere to visit the shrine and Eadgyth had spent many months there when Otto was away putting down rebellions.
It took us ten days to reach Russelheim. We dismounted to stretch our legs and shared a midday meal in a clearing on the outskirts. I felt at peace with the world, for soon, I would see Heinz and help end the hostility between my sons. After having eaten, our arms linked, Eadgyth and I walked to where the grooms waited with our horses.
The Prophetic Queen (Women's Biographical Historical Fiction): The Tumultuous Life of Matilde of Ringelheim Page 44