Curse of the Lost Isle Special Edition

by Vijaya Schartz

  As the prelate rode ahead with the captain of the guard, Melusine noticed that he looked just as comfortable on a horse as in front of a church altar. She suspected him to be a fine swordsman as well and found the thought disturbing.

  The convoy crossed several wooden bridges over the arms of a small river crisscrossing the town. The boat traffic looked as dense as the activity on the roads. Fishermen and traders sold their wares on the river banks.

  Later, as they rode through cultivated fields, Melusine thought of Sigefroi and shuddered. She still loved her husband despite what he had done, but she could find no excuses for his cruelty.

  Since she’d learned the truth, however, the nightmarish vision had fled her mind, as if the fear of the deed was stronger than the deed itself. Still, she refused to condone this kind of behavior and would confront Sigefroi in Rome. She intended to keep her anger alive and she would make him feel it.

  Soon, Melusine’s party came to the widest river she had ever seen. The majestic Rhine made her skip a breath. They dismounted as the road ended into a wide clearing. A number of small boats lined up onshore attested to the busy traffic on the river.

  Along the towing path at the water’s edge, Melusine watched as a team of hardy men advanced slowly to the rhythm of a monotonous chant. Bending forward, as if into a strong wind, they pulled the ropes harnessed to their foreheads. Behind them, in the river, the loaded barge advanced slowly against the current. The ropes squeaked and groaned under the men’s labored pull.

  Melusine had to wait as her captain hired several flat boats to ferry her party to the opposite bank. Soon, they made their way across, among other boats ferrying merchants and travelers. Larger ships, some with a square sail, others with teams of rowers, went up and down the river.

  Gazing through the deep waters, Melusine remembered legends of sirens and mermaids guarding ancient gold. Were these magic beings cursed like her, or from a different origin? In her monthly forays, she had never met a single one.

  As she stood by the railing of the flat boat, Adalberon approached Melusine. “We missed you at mass this morning, dear lady.” He looked almost like a knight in his elegant black and gold riding gear, with a sword hanging from his baldric.

  “I had to comfort a friend.” Melusine nodded toward Alyx who now dozed in the cart, probably exhausted from crying. “She and Thierry had plans to marry.”

  Adalberon raised one eyebrow, in a facial gesture that resembled Sigefroi’s just enough to make Melusine flinch. There was no mistaking his contempt for lowly servants. “What did you think of the Benedictines?”

  Taken aback, Melusine stammered. “Are you asking a woman’s opinion? After last night’s sermon in the refectory, I thought women were the embodiment of evil temptation and ignorance.”

  “I can recognize intelligence and education, even in a woman.” Adalberon cast her a sidelong glance.

  “Thank you.” Melusine forced a smile.

  “Although you do not behave like a proper woman... and I often wonder what sort of parents raised you to be so headstrong.” Here it was again, in the tone of his voice. A barely veiled threat. Did Adalberon dig up her murky lineage? No. If he had, she would be dead.

  Melusine struggled to sound light-hearted. “What about the Benedictines?”

  Adalberon gazed away toward the opposite shore. “They seem to embody the kind of discipline and holy rule I would like to see in all our religious orders.”

  The snorting of the horses punctuated the sound of the oars fighting the might of the river.

  Melusine followed the Bishop’s gaze and scanned the opposite bank. “Why do you want to change the religious orders?”

  “Too many monasteries are lax these days. Without tight supervision, they tolerate sloth and lust. Most monks are illiterate and only memorize shreds of Latin verses.”

  Melusine nodded. “I noticed.”

  “Holy Mother Church needs discipline in its ranks to overcome Pagan evil. Just like our armies protect our borders against the heathen tribes that would destroy us.”

  The Byzantine village Sigefroi had incinerated came to her mind, but Melusine pushed away the disturbing image. “Education might help. Why not teach them proper Latin?”

  “Aye.” Adalberon’s thin smile flashed and disappeared. “I believe in education for the ruling class and the religious orders.”

  Nodding in approval, Melusine didn’t want to antagonize Adalberon from the start. The prelate could be just as ruthless as a warrior. After all, he had been raised fighting like his brothers before purchasing the bishopric of Metz twelve years ago. If any chance remained to make him an ally, Melusine would certainly try.

  She managed a smile. “We live in dark times and much of our past knowledge was lost for lack of records. Why can’t we make pottery and glass as fine as that of the south? Why can’t we manufacture our own silk? Or grow the spices we import from the orient at high cost?”

  Adalberon clicked his tongue. “So many secrets to be learned. If you like knowledge, dear lady, you will love Rome with its fine artists and craftsmen. So many scholars, so many books and scrolls to study. Unfortunately for you, most of these libraries are in monasteries where women, even of high rank, are not allowed to tread.”

  “Women being lusty, evil and ignorant.” She didn’t quite manage to sound amused.

  Adalberon’s brow shot up. “Oh, there are a few exceptions among women of high rank.”

  “You mean like Jeanne, the woman pope over a century ago?” Melusine still remembered the shock among the clergy when it was discovered at her death that she had been a woman who had passed herself as a man all along.

  “Nay.” Adalberon shook his head. “That is pure legend. No woman could ever ascend that high in the hierarchy of Holy Mother Church. The weaker sex just does not have the intellect for it.”

  Melusine silenced a sharp retort. Adalberon’s tolerance was only skin deep and full of contradictions. Such narrow-mindedness could make him even more dangerous. He might embrace the fanatical bent of the Church and its fear of Paganism. How could she escape his ever suspicious eye?

  * * *

  On Tuesday afternoon, Melusine’s train reached the fortified city of Augsburg. Brand new walls and buildings, reconstructed after the Hungarian siege eleven years earlier, gleamed in the sun. Her plan to escape for an entire day still seemed sketchy.

  As they dismounted in front of the monastery, she asked Adalberon. “I hear the good monks here have a well-preserved library. How would you feel about staying an extra day to study a few scrolls?”

  Adalberon raised an enigmatic brow. “We still have a long road ahead.”

  “One day will not make a great difference. What do you say?”

  “I hate to keep His Holiness waiting.” Adalberon’s features relaxed. He seemed to warm up to the idea as he removed his riding gloves. “I do enjoy a good read.” He offered a faint smile. “In spite of your education, I did not picture you as a scroll worm.”

  Melusine patted her white mare’s neck. “A woman’s thirst for knowledge can be a driving force.”

  “Well, why not?” Adalberon relinquished his horse to a stable boy. “I will advise the abbot and see you at dinner time.”

  “I feel tired and will have supper brought to my cell tonight.” She resisted the urge to lower her gaze as she lied. After sunset tonight she would be nowhere to be found.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow morning in the library, then.”

  “Aye.” Melusine needed to speak to Alyx. Thank the Goddess, she could count on the girl’s loyalty.

  Later in Melusine’s cell, Alyx asked too many questions. “Where are you going, m’lady? I know you are devoted to your monthly prayers, but isn’t it dangerous to go about in a strange city without an escort?”

  “Do not worry, Alyx, I will be fine. And no, I cannot tell you where I am going. Just tell Bishop Adalberon tomorrow that I am indisposed. Can you do that?”

  Alyx sighed then s
miled. “Aye, I can do that.”

  “And remember to unbar the garden door for me before supper.”

  With some misgivings, Melusine took her cloak and went out the door. Once in the deserted hallway, she hid herself under a veil of glamour and left the monastery through the garden door without attracting attention. She had just enough time to run out through the city gate and reach the Lechfeld River before sunset. She hoped her simple ploy would work.

  * * *

  The next morning, Adalberon wondered why Melusine, who had requested a full day to study, did not show up at the library. When her lady servant came to tell him that her mistress was indisposed and would remain in her cell all day, Adalberon observed the trembling of the girl’s chin and the avoidance in her clear green eyes.

  She was lying.

  He also noticed that Alyx must be with child under her bulky clothes, and he immediately remembered her reaction to young Thierry’s death and the fact that they were planning to wed.

  Sin flourished in the empire at all levels, and Adalberon must crush all evil and cleanse the good people of God’s kingdom for their own redemption. He had long nurtured the suspicion that Melusine was not who she claimed, but without tangible proof he had no case to present to Sigefroi, or to Pope John, for the annulment of their nuptials.

  And now, she pretended sickness... but for what purpose? He must find out.

  Waving away the girl, Adalberon returned to the study of a scroll on ancient legends. According to the scroll, some ondines only took mermaid form on certain days and lived as regular women the rest of the time. A fascinating premise, devised by one of Charlemagne’s bishops who claimed to have observed the transformation on a river bank at sunset on a Tuesday, many decades ago.

  Of course, who could see clearly at twilight, with the play of light and shadow? Adalberon had no doubt the bishop believed what he saw, but was it fact or distorted vision? Still, if such creatures existed they could threaten the very core of Christianity.

  After lunch, he decided to pay Melusine a visit in her cell. It would baffle the monks to break their strict rules separating genders, but he was family, and a bishop of his rank could ignore a few rules.

  When he knocked on the cell door and received no response, Adalberon let himself inside. It was empty. Where had Melusine gone? If he waited long enough, he could ask her when she returned. Adalberon believed in patience, a virtue often rewarded.

  * * *

  Shivering, her hair and body still wet under her clothes, Melusine hurried toward the city gate, invisible under her glamour veil. She had to reach the town before the doors closed. Although the sun had already set, a few straggling serfs drove the last carts heaped with today’s harvest toward the safety of the city walls.

  It took many fields to feed a large town, and Melusine took mental notes of what crops they carried, and what kind of tools hung from the side of the carts. Someday, Sigefroi’s many towns would grow this large, and he would need her expert help to run them.

  Melusine breathed easier as she crossed the gate with the last harvest carts, just before the guards would lower the doors and lock up for the night. Once in the narrow streets, she didn’t feel the need to hurry. She watched as the shopkeepers closed the weather-boards on their displays. The smell of cooking fires reminded her that she was famished.

  Melusine did not need to maintain her glamour all the way to the monastery. The less magic she used in proximity of the holy men, the less chances of raising suspicion. She entered the monastery through the garden door Alyx had left unlocked for her.

  She encountered no one in the garden since it was supper time. Despite her hunger she did not dare appear at the table disheveled, so she quickly made her way to her cell to freshen up and change clothes.

  Her heart almost stopped as she pushed open the heavy door.

  “Ah, Melusine.” Adalberon seemed to enjoy her surprise.

  “Why are you here?” The presence of a man in a woman’s cell was highly irregular.

  “I was worried about your health, but I see you look quite recovered.” He looked her up and down as if taking notes. “What happened to you? You look wet as a moat rat.”

  Melusine cringed inwardly. “I felt better, so I went to the public baths to cleanse my body from the remnants of fatigue. The monks’ tubs are so small.” She hoped Adalberon’s nose would not pick up the scent of the river in her hair.

  “I do not approve of public bathing.” He shrugged as if shaking off sin from his shoulders. “The immodest practice is conducive to lascivious sins.”

  “How long have you been here? You are missing supper.”

  “I prayed here all afternoon.” He narrowed his eyes on her. “Did it take you that long to bathe?”

  All afternoon? Dear Goddess. What now? Melusine took a slow breath.

  “First I went on a special errand I am not at liberty to discuss with you.” It was all Melusine could think of in a cinch.

  “Secrets?” Adalberon hovered over her, almost menacing. “One should have no secrets for God’s representatives. Are you sure you are not hiding a more ominous sin?”

  Melusine shuddered. “And what, pray tell, might that be?”

  “A woman who rides like a man then disappears to wander in the town without chaperone might indeed have grave sins to hide.” Adalberon’s slow words sounded filled with menace. “Some might wonder about her virtue.”

  “You think I met a lover?” Melusine laughed at that and found it relaxing. “No, dear brother-in-law. I am perfectly content to love my husband.”

  That was the truth, although her love had recently faltered upon the news of Sigefroi’s cruel streak.

  Adalberon did not look convinced. “Who is your confessor, Melusine?”

  “I have none. Our family does not need one.”

  “Well, I am family, too, so let me help you on this journey. Let me be God’s forgiving ear for you.”

  Ice gripped Melusine’s insides, but she remained silent.

  Adalberon sighed. “Tell me all your sins so God can forgive you.”

  “You would be disappointed, dear brother-in-law. My sins are few and quite common. Another day, perhaps. For now, I am starving and I need dry clothes, if you do not mind giving me some privacy.”

  “Of course.” Adalberon lowered his eyelids as if consulting a higher power. “Then I shall see you in the morning as we take the road again.”

  Melusine nodded and watched him leave. He reminded her of a patient fisherman baiting his next meal. The chill that seized her had naught to do with her wet hair or the cool summer evening.

  Why did the Bishop enter her cell against the rule? Although she would not need to disappear again until they reached Rome, Melusine’s insides swam with uneasy waves. Something had changed in the prelate’s attitude... as if he held a dangerous secret.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rome, three weeks later.

  The priest in white robes escorting Melusine through the pontifical palace stopped at the imposing portal of a wide open door. A towering guard in Roman armor blocked the entranceway.

  Melusine had hoped for Sigefroi’s presence when she voiced her important request, but he was encamped with his troops outside of Rome and involved in a military council with the emperor. She had not seen him yet in the three days she had been in the holy city.

  “His Holiness is ready to see you now.” The priest bowed and left quietly on sandaled feet.

  The guard hit the marble floor with the butt of his lance twice, then moved to the side to let her pass.

  Drawing a calming breath Melusine walked through the open portal and crossed the expanse of mosaic floor. At the center of the dome-shaped room, Pope John sat on a high throne while talking to two richly adorned prelates seated on both sides of him on lower chairs.

  To conquer her fears, Melusine reminded herself that the future of Luxembourg was at stake. Besides, the request was her idea and she must see it through.

 
At her entrance, the three princes of the Church glanced up from their chairs set on an elaborate Byzantine rug of blue, white and gold.

  Framing the pope, Melusine recognized Adalberon and the fat Archbishop Henri of Verdun. While Adalberon remained unreadable, her keen senses detected fierce animosity from Archbishop Henri. As for Pope John, his smile seemed benign enough.

  Although she had requested a private audience, Melusine understood that the pope’s time was precious. He probably conducted several orders of business at the same time. She caught herself worrying the ribbons braided into her long hair as she walked.

  Why would she be nervous? The pope, after all, would not last a week on St Peter’s throne without Otto’s support, and Otto favored her request.

  A quick glance around the room revealed a bubbly water fountain off to the side. Holy water? A cloying scent of incense and Myhrr lingered in the air. In the center of the overhead dome, a round skylight brightened the vast room with sunshine.

  Melusine halted in front of the pope and genuflected. When Pope John XIII touched the top of her head, she shuddered, wondering whether his hand held holy water. But when she rose she felt fine.

  The pope’s rotund face displayed only kindness. He rearranged his gold-threaded white robes. “You wanted to speak with me, child.”

  It had been a while since anyone had called Melusine child. She smiled. “Aye, Your Holiness. I have favors to ask.”

  Pope John raised both eyebrows and amusement danced in his small eyes. “More than one?”

  “Aye.” Melusine glanced toward Adalberon for help, but her brother-in-law kept a bland face.

  Pope John straightened his sleeves. “Speak, child.”

  Melusine cleared her throat before reciting her rehearsed request. “Over the past few days, I have visited several monasteries and consulted their libraries. I found various useful documents and I would like to have them copied, so I can take them back with me to Luxembourg.”