“Lorsch Abbey is celebrated for its miracles,” she said. “While I’m there, I will pray for Otto and Heinz to reunite and be at peace with each other.”
“I would be most grateful.”
After a brief embrace, we parted. With the aid of our grooms, we both remounted.
“I have loved you like a mother.” Eadgyth grabbed her reins. “Tell Heinz…despite everything, his brother still loves him. I will miss you, Mother, and look forward to our reunion in Quedlinburg when I return.”
Never before had she addressed me as Mother, and I could not move for the elation of hearing the word. I watched until her entourage rode out of sight. God keep you safe, my child.
I gave the signal and led my entourage westward.
NEAR INGELHEIM, WE encountered a troop of imperial guards. I presented them with the document bearing Otto’s seal, which gave me permission to enter the town and fortress, and access whatever supplies I required.
The captain nodded and yelled a few commands to his men. They escorted me to their camp located at a safe distance from the town gates. I dismounted and placed my hand on the small of my back to stretch. From where I stood, I could see the town walls and the ominous sight of hundreds of Otto’s men encircling it. No one trapped within could hope to escape.
Four fortified towers stood sentinel at each corner of the surrounding wall topped by embrasures and battlements. At its center loomed the fortress, a large semicircular building two levels high with six round towers on the outside. The main gate was at the apex of the semicircular building. To the west, an adjoining hall appeared like a long northern wing. To the east was an apse-shaped building. Somewhere inside, my son hid from the arrows of his brother’s men.
The commander sent two messengers bearing white flags to the gates. It did not open, but a face peered down from the battlements, and a discussion ensued. Before long, the two men rode back.
“The queen is permitted entry, but she must approach with only two escorts and they must remain beyond the gates.”
I climbed back into my saddle. Flanked by the two men who still bore the white flags, they escorted me to the town. The gates slammed shut behind us as we rode forth. The site that greeted me nearly caused me to topple. Desperate, emaciated people halted to observe us. We came to a stop in front of the castle gates where I was to ride alone the rest of the way. I approached slowly, seated erect on my saddle, and reined my horse to a stop in front of the portcullis. Men on the inside pulled the chains to raise the creaking metal barrier. When it stood fully upright, with a gentle kick of my heels, I urged my mount forward. The creaks resumed and the portcullis was lowered, the scrape against the ground eerily final.
The condition inside the bailey was even more deplorable. From behind the fortress came the putrid stink of an over-used, over-grown midden heap. The mound was large, its refuse encroaching into the bailey. I dismounted and with the hem of my over-tunic raised, dodged the scraps and piles of horse dung, broken timbers and pulverized stones, rotting food remnants, plucked chicken feathers and entrails, bone scraps, and human excrement littering the entire space. Vermin scurried hither and thither. Filthily dressed guards, their faces weary and gaunt from the ravages of the long siege, observed me cross the area to the donjon’s front doors.
Archbishop Friedrich, his head hung low, his walk hesitant, stepped forth to greet me. As he straightened, I noticed he had lost weight since Easter. I could hardly bear the sight of him, for he sickened me. This deplorable reprobate had attempted to kill Otto. On no account could I respect him. I managed to push away my feelings of disgust. To antagonize him would prevent me from achieving my goal of bringing Heinz home, yet I wanted him aware of my disapproval.
“I welcome you, Domina.”
“Do you?” I was unable to bite back the venom creeping into my voice. I admonished him with a piercing glare until it forced him to glance away. “Take me to my son.”
He lowered his head and wordlessly led me into the semicircular building. We ascended stone steps to the upper floor. I followed him along a passage with doors on both sides. The thud of our heels treading against the wooden floor resounded powerfully amid the silence. A smell of unwashed bodies, stale floor rushes, and dirty linen pervaded. At the far end, a set of double doors were open. I entered into a vast room with a bed at its center. A glimmer of light passed through the closed shutters at the window. At my appearance in the doorway, a male servant bowed. Heinz lay in bed propped on pillows.
“Mother!” His voice was weak and strained.
The fear I had fought to keep buried arose inside me as I rushed to his bedside. His swollen arm, blue in color, rested on a pillow beside him. His face had become thin and gaunt. When I placed a hand on his forehead, the heat of a raging fever burned against my palm.
“Good to see you,” he muttered, his lips barely moving.
“How long has he been in this condition?” I demanded of the archbishop, anger stark in my voice.
“Only a few days, Domina.”
“Has a physician attended him?”
“The imperial guards permit no one to enter.”
“Send for one instantly. Tell the king’s men it is I who command it.”
“I shall attend to it,” he said in a meek voice. He bowed then hurried from the room.
“Fetch a basin of fresh water, broth, and new linens to press against his forehead,” I instructed a nearby servant. The young man hesitated. He was about to say something, but I stopped him. I suspected he was going to tell me there was no meat or vegetables to make a good broth, so I added, “A supply wagon of food waits outside the gates. Have it sent into the castle.”
He left the room to do as bid.
“I doubt anything will be provided,” Heinz said weakly.
“It will. Your brother commands it, as do I.”
Heinz closed his eyelids. When he reopened them, they were moist with the pain of his ordeal. “God must have answered my prayers, for he sent you, his angel, to me.”
“Hush,” I whispered. “All will be well.”
The words fell easily from my lips, but I fought back my doubt. I gazed at Heinz who once promised me to live in peace with Otto. How disappointed I was in him. “First, we must get you healthy.” For Heinz, the road towards forgiveness would be a long and arduous one. I prayed this would be the last time he would have to travel it.
IF EADGYTH HAD indeed prayed for a miracle while she was in Lorsch, I had no doubt I was witnessing it. After three days of ministrations from me and the physician, Heinz’s fever abated, as did the swelling in his arm. Another week passed. With each day, his health improved, but his spirits remained bleak, defeated. This manifested itself in an obvious lack of energy and a sense of hopelessness. I permitted him to indulge in his melancholy, but for only a few days. He had amends to make.
Since my arrival, I had requested additional servants, food, and supplies, all of which had been granted, but in limited amounts. Conditions within the fortress had improved slightly, but in the town, not at all. Five men and seventeen children died of hunger and illness. This day there would be more. Otto had provided a brief reprieve. It was up to Heinz to take the next step towards reconciliation, and he had to do so soon.
We sat in the Great Hall having just finished a bowl of pottage with no bread when I decided to broach the subject of his return. “Heinz, this cannot continue forever. You must bring an end to this suffering.”
He put down his spoon and leaned back in his chair. “I’d rather die by my own hand than that of my brother.”
“He forgave you before, and he will again.”
“You seem certain.”
“I am. Can you not see it is you who forced his hand in this?”
“He stripped me of Lotharingia and after I supported him, he refused to reinstate me. Did he believe I would sit back and not retaliate?”
I beheld him squarely. “You brought this on yourself by your actions. Had you not attempted to
assassinate your brother, Otto would not have taken such action against you.” I paused. “If the situation were reversed, you would have done the same. Otto wanted you to re-earn his trust. Instead, you collaborated with Archbishop Friedrich against him.”
He stared at his food.
“Confess your sins then return home to seek forgiveness from Otto, or this will end badly for you.”
“And what of Friedrich?”
“He will be punished, as he deserves, but I doubt he will be made to pay with his life. Your brother has already proven he is a merciful king and does not wish to antagonize the Church.”
Heinz pinched his lips together and rubbed his chin.
I grew impatient. “There is no alternative.”
He nodded. “I know.”
I sighed with relief, but could not leave it at that. “This time, you must repent and it must come from your heart. You must never raise arms against your brother again. If you do, not even God can help you.”
SEVERAL DAYS LATER Heinz and Archbishop Friedrich walked forth from the fortress gates. The king’s men immediately surrounded them. At my wishes, Heinz was to accompany me unfettered to Quedlinburg where Otto waited. Friedrich remained in Ingelheim under arrest, and good riddance to him. I could conjure little sympathy for a man who preached the word of God but was capable of committing heinous sins.
We arrived in Quedlinburg on Christmas day. It was late afternoon and as we passed the Great Hall to take the stairs to the upper level of the donjon, the smell of roasting meat and the industriousness of servants as they prepared tables and accoutrements greeted us.
We found Otto in his bedchamber. He had finished dressing for the feast. He wore a brown woolen over-tunic; its hem and sleeves embroidered with delicate crosses in gold thread. He appeared healthy, and stood with dignity as he waited for us to enter. I was happy he had agreed to see us privately instead of in the Great Hall before courters and guards. It was a good sign and my optimism surged.
Clad as a penitent in sackcloth, Heinz entered the room behind me, his body rigid with tension.
Otto glared at Heinz, raking him from head to toe as he took note of his humble clothes. Then he turned his attention to me. He said not a word as Heinz dropped to his knees.
“Otto, my brother, I beg your forgiveness.” Heinz’s voice was steady as he met his brother’s harsh gape
“After your rebellion, followed by your desire to have me assassinated, do you believe you deserve my forgiveness?”
I held my breath and bit my tongue. I did not expect Otto to make it easy for Heinz, but neither did I wish him to draw out Heinz’s humiliation.
“I have suffered greatly because of my actions against you.”
“Your own doing.” Otto clenched his jaw.
“It is true.” Heinz extended both hands to Otto. “In exchange for your pardon, please accept my oath of fealty.”
Otto turned his back on Heinz and paced to the hearth.
My heart sank. “Otto, please,” I pleaded.
He spun around and faced Heinz. “As I recall, I have forgiven you once before, and it gave rise to more evil maneuverings on your part.”
“Which I will regret for the rest of my life.” Heinz’s voice quavered as he waited for Otto to accept his proffered hands. “I repent my dissension. Please, I beg of you, receive my pledge. For as long as you live and breathe, I swear you shall not regret it.”
Otto stepped closer to Heinz, his countenance hard and unyielding. “You understand, although I accept your oath, it will come with no lands or duchy. You must earn my trust and prove your worthiness, for however long it may take.”
Heinz’s cheeks reddened as he pondered Otto’s words. A long silence ensued.
I sensed Heinz’s anger. On our journey here, we had discussed that possibility. Heinz knew there was no choice but to submit to whatever terms Otto demanded. I released a breath when he nodded his agreement.
From a wooden chest, Otto removed the leather bag containing the saints’ relics I gave him when he had ridden off to battle for the first time. It touched me that he had kept them all these years. It had protected him, and he chose this symbol of my love, for his brother to swear his fealty upon. With reverence, he placed it into Heinz’s hands then kept both hands over those of his brother.
Heinz gazed unwavering at Otto. With pride, I listened as he recited the words I had helped him prepare. “By the Lord before whom these relics are holy, I will be true and faithful, and love what you love and shun all you shun, according to the laws of God and the order of the world. Nor will I ever, with will or action, through word or deed, do anything unpleasing to you. I promise on my faith and these relics I will be faithful to you, never harm you, and observe my homage to you against persons in good faith and sincerely.”
“Rise, brother.”
Tears blurred my vision when they embraced. A noticeable tension faded; the enmity between them slayed. An inherent knowledge that my sons would no longer be at odds came to life. With gratitude, I silently acknowledged God’s hand in this.
This was not the only omen of good fortune I received. As I left the bedchamber to bathe and dress for the Christmas feast, a servant placed a scroll into my hand. It bore the seal of King Louis. I carried it to my bedchamber and by the light of a candle, read with joy that Gerberga had delivered a son, an heir for Louis. They named him Lothair.
Chapter Thirty-One
A.D. 942
January
Quedlinburg
EADGYTH AND I sat before a roaring fire in her chambers. I pulled my needle and thread through a tapestry, while Eadgyth raised the altar cloth she was working on to examine it. “There, it’s done. Do you approve?”
I could not help but admire the long narrow strip of linen she had been working on for several weeks. “It’s beautiful.” She possessed a delicate hand and her work was of fine quality.
“I cannot wait to present it to the abbot of Saint Maurice in Magdeburg. Perhaps I’ll go on the morrow.” Eadgyth lowered the cloth to her lap. “If you are free, would you accompany me?”
“It’s cold and there is snow, but not enough to make the roads impassable. I would be happy to join you.” I set aside my embroidery.
“I am so pleased. It is a short journey, no more than two days. The golden chalice I commissioned as a gift is finished. It will replace their old pewter one and I want to present it to the abbot in time for Lent.”
How fond I had become of Eadgyth. She had matured from the young, covetous woman I was once disenchanted with, to a charming queen with a generous heart and an infinite capacity for love. “You have been a comfort to me, Eadgyth. I could not have wished for a better wife for Otto.”
“And you have been like a mother to me. You have taught me much since I came here. I’ve been blessed with a good family and thriving children.”
I smiled at her. “When should we leave?”
“Early in the morning so we can arrive before nightfall on the second day of the journey.”
EADGYTH AND I lingered at Magdeburg’s abbey for several days, but were eager to return to Quedlinburg. We would depart on the morning of the twenty-sixth day of January.
During the night, a thick layer of fresh snow had fallen, but the skies were clear and dawn’s light reflected off the snow with sparkling brilliance. Our retinue consisted of eight guards and several packhorses, their burdens considerably lighter than when we arrived. Our breath curled into the cold air in a white mist, but our woolen riding clothes and fur-lined mantles kept us warm.
Eadgyth rode beside me, her cheeks rosy. “I’m eager for our return home. I’ve missed Otto and the children.”
“If we ride at a steady pace, we should arrive home before dusk.”
The wide trail we followed narrowed into heavier brush and dense trees. We traveled in single column with two guards in front and six others behind us.
A sudden rustle in the trees forced the lead guard to rein his horse to an ab
rupt halt. A loud squeal sliced the air as a wild boar ran grunting and snorting into our path. The guard’s horse reared. The man lost his balance and slid off. He landed on the neck of the startled horse behind him. That animal reared backward into Eadgyth’s mare. She teetered to keep her balance.
The boar charged into the scuffle.
Eadgyth’s mount pawed at the air as the two lead horses continued rearing and backing into hers. At once, her position shifted. I knew something awful was about to happen. She had no time to free her leg when one of the horses shoved her mare hard. It stumbled and fell. I screamed as Eadgyth tumbled to the ground beneath a mass of stomping hooves. Her horse lay on its side, gasping, making vain efforts to rise. In the confusion, the world became a blur of blood and screams. A guard grabbed hold of my horse’s bridle. It was as if time had stopped. Profound terror ripped through me.
Eadgyth lay buried beneath horseflesh, her face white as death. I slid from my horse and ran to her, but a guard blocked my way. “Not yet, Domina. Give us room to free her.”
The mare gasped for breath. The man tugged at the reins to try to get her to move off Eadgyth. The mare struggled to rise on its front legs, quivered, and again fell on its side on top of Eadgyth.
His face hideous with exertion, the guard tugged harder on the reins while others tried to push the equine off their queen, but the horse failed to rise. It dropped its head and gave the guard a woeful glance.
“I think the horse broke its back,” the guard said.
The commander nodded in agreement.
With a loud rasp, the guard unsheathed his sword. I glanced away before he plunged it into the creature’s neck.
With the horse lifeless, the man knelt and lowered his head over Eadgyth’s nose. He straightened, stricken, as he sadly shook his head.
“No!” I screamed as I shoved the guard who restrained me. “Let me by.”
He held me in his powerful arms. “Domina, nothing can be done. The queen is dead.”
The Prophetic Queen (Women's Biographical Historical Fiction): The Tumultuous Life of Matilde of Ringelheim Page 45