Wheel of the Fates: Book Two of the Carolingian Chronicles

by J. Boyce Gleason

  He stormed out of his tent to find the Comptesse directing Gunther. The poor man was trying to erect a small table and two chairs for her. Pippin couldn’t imagine where Gunther had found them.

  “Comptesse,” Pippin said.

  She turned to face him and held up her hand for silence. She examined him, first up one side, and then down the other. Finally, she released him with an audible sigh.

  “I suppose that will have to do for now. Please sit,” she said. “I’ve asked your man to find us tea.”

  Pippin looked up for Gunther and found that he was already gone.

  “I don’t think you understand your situation,” Pippin said, trying to regain control of the conversation.

  “Don’t be silly,” the Comptesse snapped. “Of course, I understand my situation. It is you, milord Mayor, who has not bothered to comprehend yours. And please.” She waved the back of her hand at him. “Close your mouth when you're not speaking. You look like a buffoon. Didn’t King Liutbrand teach you anything while you were on the Roman Peninsula?”

  Pippin was so shocked that he closed his mouth. He had indeed spent much of his youth with the Lombards. Liutbrand even had adopted him as a son.

  “That’s better.” She sat and gestured to the seat across from her. “Since I am not a servant or a family member and I haven’t given you permission to use my Christian name, you, Milord Mayor, will address me as Comptesse or as Milady. Anything else would be disrespectful.”

  Pippin sat down. The hammering in his head hindered all attempts to recall his childhood lessons in civility.

  “Milady-” he started. The Comptesse nodded in acknowledgement. “Please, forgive me for having failed to greet you properly. You are free to make yourself welcome here in our camp so long as I have your word that you recognize your status as a hostage and that you agree you won’t try to escape.”

  Again, the Comptesse nodded. She seemed to expect more.

  “Ah-” Pippin searched for words. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Pippin, son of Charles, son of Pippin of Herstal. I am pleased to make milady’s acquaintance.”

  The Comptesse beamed.

  “Well met, Pippin, son of Charles. I am Catherine, Comptesse de Loches, daughter of Henri, son of Guy. May I present my daughter Charlene and my son Henri,” she said pointing to her two children.

  Pippin nodded to them and turned back to the Comptesse. “You may, of course, call me Pippin.”

  The Comptesse smiled in response but didn’t return the courtesy.

  Pippin sat back to reevaluate this woman. Tall and elegant, she had graying brown hair gathered into a bun at the nape of her neck. She sat on the edge of her seat, her back straight and her posture perfect. She had sharp angular features that on another woman would have looked manly. The Comptesse, however, radiated such confidence that she was, in a strange way, compelling and beautiful. Her eyes demanded attention. They were a cool, piercing blue, so sharp they could penetrate armor. Her smile had a confident smirk that suggested that she knew what kind of personal power she wielded. A big-boned woman, she had kept herself slim, despite the fact that she had given birth to the two children standing beside her. Pippin couldn’t put an age to her.

  “Comptesse, how did you know my father?”

  “Everyone knew Charles, milord.”

  “But you knew him personally.”

  The Comptesse smiled almost to herself and nodded only once.

  “How did you meet him?”

  Her eyes flickered away from him as if her thoughts took substance across the horizon. For the briefest moment, the Comptesse smiled before masking her thoughts. The corners of her mouth tilted downward, and she turned back on Pippin. Again, her eyes pierced right through him.

  “One needn’t bother with ancient history.” She cleared her throat. “I have come to bargain.”

  “Forgive me, milady, with what could you possibly bargain?”

  “My treasure.”

  “I already have your husband’s treasure.”

  “What you have is perhaps one part in ten of the whole. The rest is hidden.”

  Pippin’s breath caught in his throat. He braved the throbbing in his head to calculate the value of the holdings she described and found it worth the effort. It was a staggering amount, assuming she was telling the truth.

  “Why would you tell me this? Your husband could have bought your release with a quarter of such a fortune. And if I find it, I can merely take it as a fortune of war.”

  “If you can find it. Without my help, you would likely search for the better part of a lifetime and never uncover a single denarius.” Catherine held up her hand before Pippin could respond. She turned to her children. “Charlene, would you and Henri please stand over there by that tree? The mayor and I have some matters to discuss.”

  Charlene curtsied, Henri bowed, and Catherine rewarded them with a radiant smile. Turning back to Pippin, Catherine’s eyes took on a measure of heat. “As to my husband, I doubt he would put such a price on my freedom. In fact, he is probably somewhat relieved to find me in your care.”

  “Once you give me the location, why should I uphold my end of the bargain?”

  “Because you are Charles’s son. You will not be false with me.”

  Pippin, again, was puzzled. She continued to invoke his father’s name as if he were a close friend.

  “What do you want in return?”

  “I wish to start a new life. I am finished waiting for my husband to gain any sense and as long as he remains the Lord of Loches, I have little use for my family’s treasure. You, on the other hand, have need of treasure and can protect me from the wiles of my husband’s more juvenile inclinations. I, and my children, will remain in your household and under your protection, but will have the freedom to come and go as we please. Think of us more as members of your household than as guests. In addition, you will grant me an annual stipend of,” she pursed her lips, “four hundred gold solidi so that I may raise my children appropriately to their station. You will educate them in your household and enroll Henri in knight training. Is Fulrad still your weapons master?”

  Who was this woman? Pippin had never met anyone like her. “Fulrad still teaches the young knights, although his age impairs him. Tell me, why you would do this to your husband?”

  “The man’s a fool and an arrogant one at that. He’s the third son of a minor noble family and has done little to distinguish himself other than to become a hunting companion of Duc Hunoald.” She shrugged her shoulders angrily. “My father must have been very anxious about my prospects to agree to such a marriage.”

  Her face reddened and she looked away. “At twenty-five, I was quite old when the betrothal took place. My father saw the union as an opportunity to tie our family more closely to Duc Hunoald, and as I have no brothers…” she let the thought hang in the air. “Of course, whatever political advantage there was in such an arrangement, my husband quickly squandered it. His arrogance trebled when he inherited the title of Compte from my father. He dismissed those knights loyal to our household and in a drunken stupor he insulted Duc Hunoald, himself.”

  The Comptesse paused to look up at Pippin. “You might have found taking the castle considerably more difficult had you come when my father was alive.”

  Pippin grunted. Taking the castle had been easier than expected. For reasons he couldn’t articulate, Pippin decided that he liked this blunt-speaking woman. “I’ll give you two hundred gold solidi annually,” he declared.

  Her eyes squinted. “Three,” she said.

  “Done. Assuming the treasure is as large as you say, you will be treated as a guest within my household and your children will be raised there as if they were my kin.”

  “I believe Charles would find that appropriate.”

  Gunther appeared carrying a pot of boiling water and two cups. He set them on the table and rolled his eyes at Pippin. He was clearly frightened by the woman.

  Pippin was beginning to understand why
.

  ✽✽✽

  “It could be a trap,” Childebrand said.

  “That it could.” Pippin chuckled, thinking of his conversation with the Comptesse. “She is certainly capable of it.”

  They had taken ten trusted knights and left under the cover of darkness to hunt down the Comptesse’s hidden treasury outside Loches. Given the size of the horde, Pippin was taking every precaution to limit knowledge of the treasure to all but a chosen few. Wealth that large could tempt many a man and Pippin still lacked confidence in the loyalty of many of his knights.

  Loches lay within a two-hour hard ride of the army’s route north. Traveling at night, however, their progress was impeded, and Pippin began to worry that they wouldn’t return until after first light. Wheeling heavily laden carts into camp in full daylight would arouse significant attention.

  Pippin looked down at the small map drawn in the Comptesse’s sure hand. “For some reason, I trust her. She has more confidence in me than many of my knights.”

  “I wouldn’t trust her,” Childebrand said.

  “It’s odd. She seems almost happy to be going with us to Paris.”

  “Who else but a spy would want to be a hostage?”

  “She seems to know quite a lot about my father.”

  “Everyone knew Charles,” Childebrand said.

  That Childebrand’s words echoed those of the Comptesse so closely troubled Pippin. “She seems to have known him rather well. Did you ever meet her before?”

  Childebrand looked away. “I’m just saying we should be careful. We’re out here in the dead of night with only ten men, hunting a treasure that may not exist, at the bidding of a woman who’s married to a man whose castle you just burned to the ground.”

  Arnot rode back to their position and pulled up alongside Pippin.

  “Huh-yah,” Pippin called as the man approached.

  “Huh-yah,” came the response. “Milord, the graveyard is up ahead to our left.”

  “Any sign of ambush?”

  “No, milord. We’ve scouted in every direction. There’s no one here but ghosts.”

  Pippin smiled at Childebrand and spurred his horse forward. Just to be sure, he kept Arnot and the scouts circling their position while Childebrand assigned men picks and shovels. Pippin walked among the headstones tracking the Comptesse’s family backward in time.

  “She wasn’t lying,” he called to Childebrand. “Her family does date back to the Romans.”

  Pippin found the headstone he was looking for and ordered two of his men to dig. The knights knelt before the burial mound and offered a fervent prayer asking forgiveness. They made the sign of the cross and raised their picks high against the moonlit sky and sank them deep into the earth. The gravesite was soft and the work quick; within two hours the men were shoulder level deep in the earth and covered in mud.

  “Nothing, milord,” one of them reported.

  Pippin replaced them with two fresh hands. It was already two bells; they were running out of time. The shovels hit something solid and the men below scurried to unearth a small wooden coffin, the size used for a child. Ropes were lowered and the coffin lifted out of the grave. As soon as it was free, the two men resumed their positions and began to dig again.

  By three bells, they had uncovered three more coffins, each full-sized and heavier than the last. It took all ten of his men to lift them out of the ground with ropes. Pippin laid them side-by-side and ordered the men to open them. Again, hands lifted to foreheads to make the sign of the cross. When the lids were open, Pippin was faced with one dead child and three very large treasures.

  The Comptesse had told the truth.

  Childebrand whistled. “I had no idea she was that wealthy.”

  Pippin eyed his uncle. “Where would she get this kind of treasure?”

  Chapter Six

  Regensburg

  Trudi followed Tobias back to the castle in silence. It was a formidable building, built by the Romans three centuries earlier. The southern gate, overlooking the roiling Danube, was typically the busiest entrance for merchants, farmers and visiting nobility. It opened to an interior courtyard that served as the primary marketplace for the city where only favored merchants were allowed to sell their wares. All else had to content themselves outside in Trudiville.

  After the confrontation with Theudebald and the priest, Trudi pointed them towards the northern entrance to avoid further notice. She had had enough controversy for one day. Before they reached the gate, however, Trudi had a sudden thought.

  “Do you think he’s right?”

  “Who?” Tobias said.

  “The priest. Do you think I need protection?”

  Tobias stroked his chin, a habit he had picked up since starting to grow facial hair. “It wouldn’t hurt to have a guard or two with you. As much as you are being celebrated at court, there are many who despise the Franks’ rule and still associate you with your father.”

  “But am I in danger?”

  “No. As long as Odilo is alive no one in Bavaria will threaten you.”

  “And if Odilo dies? It took less than three months after Charles’s death for Carloman to send Sunnichild to the Abbey at Chelles. Who will protect me?”

  Tobias shook his head. “The baby will succeed Odilo. They’ll need you to act as regent until he is of age…assuming it’s a boy.”

  “And assuming he lives,” Trudi whispered. “And Theudebald.” Trudi shuddered. “He’s a threat. He is already calling me a traitor.”

  “But he’s not Bavarian.” Tobias assured her. “Our people trust Odilo. His half-brother is Alemannian. And we don’t like Alemannians.”

  “Have you heard any more rumors suggesting Odilo isn’t the baby’s father?”

  Tobias nodded. “I’m afraid that one will always be with you. You announced your condition so quickly after the marriage it almost begged the suggestion. It will get worse when you deliver the babe early.”

  The thought hung in the air between them. Trudi swore under her breath, furious with herself for falling into such a trap. Thank God she could trust Tobias. Without him, she would have no one in which to confide. He was the only one who knew the babe wasn’t Odilo’s.

  She tried not to burden him with such talk. If they were overheard, it could mean the death of both of them. But he was the only one who shared her grief over Bradius. Her sorrow was still like an open wound that wouldn’t heal. Her hand strayed to her stomach as a sudden wave of sadness swelled in her. “Do you still think of him?”

  Tobias nodded, clearly knowing of whom she spoke. “Bradius was my general. I owed him my life. At least now, I can honor him in service to you and his child.”

  Trudi grimaced. “Sometimes I think how simple my life would be, had I never met him. I left home to be with Odilo. I thought he was the love of my life. If I hadn’t known Bradius, I could have been so happy being Duchesse of Bavaria.”

  “And now?”

  “I’m deathly afraid that I will be found out – that my child and I will be cast out.”

  Tobias put his arm around her shoulder. “I will keep your secrets, milady.”

  “My marriage to Odilo is based on a lie.”

  Tobias chuckled. “Aren’t most noble marriages?”

  Trudi grunted. “I suppose you have the right of that. I just miss him! Bradius changed me. He took me outside of myself – outside of the life I had known. Before Bradius, I never once thought about what my father did, or what Carloman did for the sake of the kingdom. I never questioned their decisions. I just assumed they were right. How could I not? The Church was behind them. They always were successful in getting what they wanted. I couldn’t understand why people opposed them! I imagined all pagans as savages – as people who didn’t understand the true nature of faith or the divine right of kings.”

  “People can do despicable things in the name of their gods,” Tobias said.

  Trudi nodded. “But Bradius had no ambitions. He just wanted to stop Carlom
an. Carloman desecrated their sacred tree and forced people to choose between their faith and their lives. I’ll never see Carloman again in the same light.”

  Tobias nodded. “The Fates spin their wheel with the thread of our lives. They don’t ask our permission. You changed Bradius as well. He was a broken man, intent on a violent end to a life filled with violence. He didn’t expect to fall in love with the sister of his enemy.”

  A tear escaped from one of her eyes and Trudi wiped it away with the back of her hand. “God help me, I loved him! He made me feel so alive. I never hungered for anyone the way I hungered for him.”

  Tobias put a comforting hand on her arm. “You must let him go, Duchesse. As much as you loved him, your life is here now. There is no going back. Bradius is dead. You must think of this child as Odilo’s. If you think of it as Odilo’s, it will be Odilo’s.”

  Trudi nodded, trying to steel her resolve. “I know. There’s only one path forward. And Odilo deserves better from me. None of this is his fault. He was my first love and now he is my only love.

  “I just wish I could talk him out of this war with Carloman. He doesn’t understand how ruthless Carloman can be.”

  ✽✽✽

  Odilo provided more grist for the mill when she arrived home.

  “I can’t believe you would ask this of me,” Trudi said. “That man called me a cunt in my own home. He said you should have been abandoned as an infant.”

  Odilo tried to reach out for her. Trudi batted his hands away. “I want him out of our home.”

  “I need him, Trudi. I need Alemannia in this war.”

  “From the sounds of it, he doesn’t need your encouragement. He’s ready to fight Carloman with or without you.”

  “But if we don’t fight in concert, Carloman will take us one at a time. There is only one hope I have in defending Gripho’s claim, and it’s with Theudebald.”

  “Why must you defend it? I know for a fact that Gripho wouldn’t come to your aid if the situation were reversed. You’re using Gripho as an excuse to war on Carloman."