With his horse lathered with sweat from a hard ride, the messenger halted at the gate and addressed the guards in a solemn, booming voice. “A message from His Holiness Pope John, for Lady Melusine of Luxembourg.”
Breathless, Melusine hurried toward the rider. “I am the lady of this keep.”
The messenger glanced dubiously at her simple attire then looked to the guard for confirmation. When the guard smiled and nodded, the messenger saluted, dismounted, then handed Melusine a small scroll sealed in red wax.
Melusine took it eagerly. Such messages, carried in haste night and day from monastery to monastery, with fresh horses and new riders each time, reported only the most important news. In her impatience, Melusine almost ripped the parchment when she broke the seal. She read the missive.
An invitation to Rome? His Holiness and the emperor requested her presence for the crowning of young Otto II. Elated at the prospect of traveling and joining Sigefroi for such a grand occasion, Melusine laughed. Forgetting all about breakfast, she thanked the messenger, asked a passing servant to take his horse to the stable and pointed the robed man in the direction of the kitchen.
Melusine’s mind whirled. She had to prepare for a long journey. She must also ensure that everything at the castle would go smoothly during her absence.
“Alyx!” Melusine called as she barged into the women’s quarters. “Stop pining for your gallant and start packing. We are going to Rome.”
The young woman opened wild eyes. “We are?” Her smile told Melusine how much she welcomed the news. “What about the children?”
“They will remain here. We must make haste. The crowning is in one month.”
“A crowning? Will Thierry be there?”
“How could he not attend along with Sigefroi, and Gunter?” Melusine rejoiced for Alyx.
Later that day, in the midst of preparations, a disturbing thought assailed Melusine. She felt the tiny scar on her left hand throb. A Fae woman in Rome? Among bishops and prelates, in a city of many churches, holy water, and the Goddess knew what else?
Could she be so foolish as to throw herself into the maw of her worst enemy? What if she were discovered on a fated Wednesday? They would throw her in a dungeon and torture her before burning her alive.
She shuddered at the thought, but what choice did she have? None. The pope and the emperor had ordered it. Refusing to comply would raise grave suspicions. Already the bishops did not like her much.
Melusine must hide her fear and face the dangers in Rome. She took heart in the knowledge that Sigefroi would keep her safe. It had been a hundred and fifty years since she’d wandered that far from her home. The idea of warmer climates made her heart sing with anticipation.
Chapter Thirteen
The road to Strasbourg, three days later.
Invigorated by the exercise of riding all day, Melusine filled her lungs with the balmy summer breeze. She kept pace with the open cart, so she could converse with Alyx, who avoided the saddle in her condition. Despite the dust, Melusine thoroughly enjoyed the journey.
On the wide road, their retinue passed a merchant riding ahead of a slow train of loaded carts. A rich trader, judging by the quality of his clothing. Melusine wondered what he transported. Could it be spices from the orient, or Saracen carpets? Maybe Byzantine ceramics? Precious glass from Italy? Possibly olive oil, or rare silk? The handful of armed guards walking behind the merchant’s train leered at Melusine with undisguised lust, making bawdy remarks.
The captain of Melusine’s guard slowed his mount to let her catch up with him. “My lady, there is much traffic on this road.” He bowed slightly. “I respectfully suggest you ride side-saddle from here on.”
Melusine adjusted her wide riding skirt to hide a bit of leg above her riding footwear. “I will not switch saddle now. Do not worry, captain, your lord will not punish you for my reckless behavior when we get to Rome.” She laughed at his sour face but took pity on him. “I will join Alyx in the cart as soon as we come into view of the town.”
Alyx smiled from inside the open cart, where she sat wedged between two chests among furs and pillows. Her thickening waist bounced with each bump of the oak wheels on the uneven road. “My lady, what if one of these merchants reports you to the abbey where we spend the night? Could the monks refuse us their hospitality?”
“Fear not, dear Alyx. We are still in High Lorraine, and Sigefroi’s older brother is supreme overlord in these parts. Besides, abbots are easily swayed with a few coins.” Melusine smiled. “Perhaps you should marry Thierry as soon as we get to Rome. It might avoid some awkwardness later on.”
Alyx blushed. “Aye, m’lady. ‘Tis a grand idea.”
“I’ll let you borrow one of my gowns.”
The girl’s green eyes lit up. “Aye?”
“Or, perhaps we can purchase silk or muslin veils with silver threads in Verona or Florence.” The Italian names rolled like exotic pearls on Melusine’s tongue.
As they negotiated the crest of a low hill, a walled city came into view a few short miles ahead, dominated by a tall Roman cathedral with three belfries, almost as imposing as that of Trier. Outside the golden Roman walls, a prosperous town spilled its many buildings in a wide crown surrounded by a gray fortification of more recent construction.
The captain glanced at Melusine as if torn between duty to his lord and obedience to his lady. “Strasbourg, m’lady, where we will spend the night. Tomorrow we cross the Rhine River and shoot east, toward Augsburg.”
Alyx winked. “M’lady, you better join me in here, before the good captain dies of embarrassment.”
“Soldiers do not get embarrassed, Alyx. Believe me, he’s more worried about Sigefroi’s reprimands.” She motioned to the captain who stopped the small convoy. Melusine dismounted, gave the reins to a lad then climbed the steps into the open cart.
As the train resumed the ride, Melusine propped her back against a chest and arranged the furs and pillows around her. She glanced at Alyx who looked comfortable enough. “How can you stand such a bumpy ride in your condition?”
But Alyx didn’t seem to hear. She frowned as she glanced up. “Why are we going east tomorrow? Italy is south, is it not?”
“Aye.” Melusine smiled. “But south of us is the kingdom of Burgundy. Those barbarians would kill us all without a thought. It’s safer to remain within the empire’s borders, where people are civilized, and our local lords and abbots can provide food and shelter.”
They entered the busy city through the Northern gate. Strasbourg was well named, the town of roads. No wonder it was a merchant’s paradise. Four major trade routes ran through its center. Everywhere she looked, Melusine saw stone cutters and masons, building churches... so many churches!
The abbot of the new monastery where they stopped for the night received his important guests with enthusiasm. “My lady, you will be pleased to know that your eminent brother in law, Bishop Adalberon of Metz, is also visiting, along with Archbishop Henri of Verdun, and both are eager to meet with you.”
“Really?” Melusine stiffened at the news. What was Adalberon doing here? But she refused to be intimidated by the presence of Sigefroi’s brother. She forced a smile. “I’ll be delighted to see them.” Her hand flicked a dusty sleeve. “But only after I change into something more presentable.”
“I understand.” The abbot nodded.
“Would it be too much to ask for hot water?” Melusine smiled to soften the demand.
The abbot bowed respectfully. “That can be arranged, my lady.”
Melusine didn’t mind sharing the same cell as Alyx for the night. The girl had a happy disposition. After Alyx helped her scrub the grit from her skin and hair, Melusine let her use the bath water. Meanwhile, she donned a simple shift and covered her hair with a bonnet for modesty.
Moments after they finished dressing, the two women responded to the bell and followed the congregation to the refectory. Thanks to the rule of silence, Melusine did not have to speak to
Adalberon, who sat with the abbot and the archbishop at the opposite end of the high table. The portly archbishop of Verdun looked like a sour man, and Melusine disliked him on sight.
The friars bowed their heads for the blessing of the food, then a monk stepped up to a lectern and read a sermon that echoed under the high-vaulted ceiling. Lay servants ladled steaming soup into the wooden bowls and soon the friars ate quietly.
Some broke the bread and soaked it in their bowl, others slurped the broth or munched on the bread thoughtfully. A meager fare to be sure, but such was monastic life for the Benedictines. Alyx frowned at the thin broth in her bowl. Melusine hoped the guards would fare better. Soldiers needed strength.
The sermon recited overhead warned of the evil nature of women, from the memoirs of a long dead archbishop now considered as a saint. Melusine shuddered. Such bishops had persecuted her mother in Strathclyde, and later set a price on the head of the ondine sighted in the Moselle River.
If they knew Melusine was that legendary ondine, these seemingly peaceful monks would throw her in a dungeon without a second thought. The Goddess be thanked, they suspected nothing of the sort.
Melusine wiped her bowl with the last piece of bread and, following the monks’ example, sat straight and waited. At the end of the sermon, the reader clapped once. All the monks rose and filed out of the refectory. Imitating them, Melusine and Alyx returned to their cell.
A friar approached them. “Our Lord Abbot would like you to join him and the bishops to share a glass of wine in his study.”
Melusine nodded. “Thank you, I will.” She turned to Alyx. “You may go back if you like. I will join you later.”
“Don’t mind if I am asleep by the time you return, m’lady. I will fall like a sack of grain and not move until morning.” Alyx curtsied and left.
Melusine followed the monk to the study. There, the two princes of the church and the abbot, ensconced in thick padded chairs around a sturdy table, already sampled the wine.
The abbot rose to meet Melusine. “Glad you came, my lady.”
Adalberon nonchalantly offered his ring for her to kiss. “Dear sister-in-law, I am delighted to see you again.”
Melusine genuflected as the custom demanded, hating the abasement of the gesture, and touched her lips to the gem.
Archbishop Henri of Verdun, who looked older, eyed Melusine curiously. He offered his own ring without leaving the chair.
“Your Grace.” Melusine disliked his superior attitude but she controlled her anger, genuflected and lightly kissed the ring on the pudgy hand. Why did she, a noble lady, have to kneel before sitting bishops?
She rose and addressed her brother in law. “Adalberon, what a coincidence to be visiting the same city at the same time… and be staying at the same monastery while there are so many in Strasbourg!”
The abbot pulled a chair for Melusine and she sat at the round table.
Adalberon offered a condescending smile. “My presence here is no coincidence, dear sister.”
Melusine’s heart almost stopped. “How do you mean?”
“I am also on my way to Rome for the crowning of our German cousin. So is Archbishop Henri.” Adalberon’s thin smile widened but remained cold. “I shared his escort since Metz, but I have been wanting to know you better for some time. I thought I would join your traveling party. What better opportunity for us to get better acquainted?”
Archbishop Henri made a wry face. Decidedly a big man, he looked petulant as a child. “I should have known the house of High Lorraine would shun my company. What else can you expect from upstarts whose ancestors resorted to assassination as a means to ascend to power?”
Surprised and disturbed by the open attack on Sigefroi’s family, Melusine did not respond. Wasn’t one of Sigefroi’s brothers liege lord of Verdun?
Adalberon snorted. “You can see why I would rather travel with a relative?”
Melusine froze. Adalberon’s presence would certainly take the fun out of this journey. For a moment, she felt tempted to use her powers of persuasion to change his mind, but a bishop might be able to sense and recognize magic. She could not risk discovery.
“Wine, my lady?” The abbot smiled as he offered Melusine a silver goblet. Obviously he had known of Adalberon’s plans and enjoyed her surprise.
Melusine took the goblet and thanked the abbot without looking. She must not give in to panic. Weeks on the road with a bishop? In a close proximity that did not allow for privacy? How would she escape Adalberon’s scrutiny on her next fated Wednesday?
“I was expecting more enthusiasm on your part, my lady.” Adalberon seemed amused by her shock. Did he suspect anything amiss?
Sipping the wine to hide her uneasiness, Melusine found it sweet and fortifying. “Forgive me, Adalberon, I had a long day. I feel a little dazed.”
In her head, she already concocted a plan to escape the bishop on the road, but she didn’t even know exactly how far her party would have traveled by Tuesday. Many delays could happen on such journeys.
The abbot returned to his chair and sat facing Melusine with a satisfied expression on his face. “I have sheltered your men in the stables. They are being fed in the kitchen as we speak.”
Melusine nodded. “Thank you, Lord Abbot. I would appreciate if they were given a little more food than the monks. Perhaps some cheese or meat if you have it. I will compensate you generously.”
The abbot nodded. “Aye, my lady. Your captain voiced the same concern. I already made arrangements to his satisfaction.”
“Thank you.” Melusine turned to Adalberon, struggling to sound casual. “It will be good to see Sigefroi after all these months, and Gunter, and Thierry...”
Adalberon stopped mid movement, his goblet not yet to his lips.
Archbishop Henri chuckled. “You haven’t heard?” He sounded sarcastic, almost smug, as if enjoying his knowledge of something of importance.
Melusine decidedly hated the man but did not let it show. “Heard what?”
Sighing, Adalberon set down his cup and looked away. “Our victory on the Byzantines came at a high price. I thought you knew. Sigefroi lost over two hundred imperial knights.”
Archbishop Henri scoffed. “Many of them from my personal guard. I wonder how he intends to compensate me for that loss.”
A cold stone weighed Melusine’s chest. “How many knights from Luxembourg did we lose?”
Adalberon stared down at the rushes covering the flagstone. “Too many.” He raised his gaze to meet Melusine’s. “I am afraid young Thierry, whom we just benighted in the spring, did not survive. I know Sigefroi took a liking to the lad.”
“Thierry is dead?” Melusine barely breathed, hoping she had heard wrong.
Adalberon nodded sadly.
How could the Goddess have allowed such an injustice! The boy’s roguish smile flashed in Melusine’s mind. A vise crushed her chest. “Such a loss. Sigefroi had tutored him from childhood.”
Adalberon sighed. “I am sorry, Melusine. But be certain your husband did avenge the young man’s death. He buried Thierry under the ashes of the village responsible for his demise.”
“Sigefroi burned a village?” Bile rose up Melusine’s throat. The vision that had haunted her nightmares took hold of her once again.
“Aye, and killed almost everyone in it.” Adalberon didn’t seem to mind the bloodshed. “He made an example no one will soon forget. Thanks to my brother’s efficiency, the rebellion is squelched, and His Holiness is immensely grateful.”
Melusine’s head swam. It had all been true. The senseless killing, the maiming, the massacre of women and children... and she had witnessed it all.
She rose to leave the room. “Excuse me, my lords. I feel unwell.”
As the abbot walked her to the door, Adalberon followed them and touched Melusine’s arm. “Will you join us for mass in the cathedral in the morning, my lady?”
Visions of baptismal fonts and holy water swirled in Melusine’s mind, sickening
her further. She instinctively covered the small scar on her left hand with her sleeve. “I will have to excuse myself, Adalberon. This trip is sapping all my strength. I will need a long night sleep. I hope you understand.”
“Of course.” Only Adalberon’s tightly set mouth betrayed his disapproval.
From inside the study, Melusine heard the archbishop sneer at her excuse. But she didn’t care. Nothing would make her get close to holy water again. Nothing.
Back in her monastic cell, Melusine found Alyx snoring softly on her pallet. She did not have the heart to wake the girl with the terrible news. Let her enjoy one more night of blessed innocence. Melusine had none left.
How could she face Sigefroi after that bloody massacre and share his life? How could she take a mass murderer to her bed? Although she did not know the details, she could never forgive him. What had started as a happy journey to Rome had just turned into a nightmare. Her anger flared, but with no other release than tears.
Falling upon her pallet, Melusine muffled her sobs in her sleeves. She wasn’t sure whether she felt sorry for the loss of her illusions about Sigefroi, for Thierry who didn’t get to live past nineteen, for Alyx who must face loss and unwed motherhood, or for the babe who would never know his father. She just couldn’t stand all the grief and ugliness around her.
* * *
The next morning, Melusine delivered the news of Thierry’s death to Alyx. The young woman wailed and heaved, and her morning sickness returned. Melusine comforted the girl as best she could, caring for her own servant, but she didn’t mind.
Alyx had long become a friend. Melusine helped the listless girl climb into the cart, then the cortege left town. Now in a daze, Alyx reclined under a heap of blankets, rocked by the uneven road. She stared in the distance and silent tears rolled from her reddish eyes.
Melusine refused to ride side-saddle, even for Adalberon’s sake. It was a long way to Rome, and she would not suffer more than she had to on this dreary trip. The bishop had frowned but did not fight her decision.
Curse of the Lost Isle Special Edition Page 61