Night Blooming (30 page)

Karl-lo-Magne’s cheeks were flushed, and his blue eyes sizzled. “No man will laugh at me!”

“Certainly not,” said Alcuin quickly. “But Rakoczy’s observations are well-intended. It would be held as a failure in you if you should begin the canal—or canals—and then be forced to abandon them. It would appear that you had extended yourself too far, and that, in turn, would make you seem weakened. You know how much contempt the Longobardians had for Desiderius for his inability to complete his fortifications at Pavia. How could the Franks be less concerned than the Longobardians?”

“His men were stopped by the mal aria,” said Karl-lo-Magne.

“It doesn’t matter the cause,” said Alcuin. “In the end he did not do the thing he vowed to do, and his people turned away from him and favored you.” This was not as accurate a statement as either the King or the Bishop thought it was, but it proved to be persuasive.

“I had best work on these plans a little longer, so that when work begins on the canals, it will be finished in accordance with my orders,” said Karl-lo-Magne, and addressed Rakoczy. “You are a perspicacious fellow, Magnatus. Your abilities are endless.” The speculative light in the King’s eyes now made Rakoczy more uneasy than his previous ire had done.

“Hardly endless, Optime,” said Rakoczy. “But any poor skills I have are yours to command.”

Karl-lo-Magne continued to tap his fingers. “Yes. Yes,” he said as he measured Rakoczy with a piercing gaze.

“You have come from far away, and you’ve learned many things.” Alcuin tapped Karl-lo-Magne on the sleeve. “Do not put the Magnatus at any more of a disadvantage than you already have.”

“How can my favor be a disadvantage?” said Karl-lo-Magne with exaggerated innocence.

“You know better than that,” said Alcuin, glancing at Rakoczy. “There are courtiers who are jealous of the Magnatus, and you know it.”

“They are jealous of one another, too,” said Karl-lo-Magne mulishly.

“All the more reason to be circumspect,” said Alcuin. “You do not want to give them any more reason to become rivals. You are able to keep the worst of them in check, but it is still no easy matter to control them all. Do not tell me otherwise, for I have eyes and ears, Optime, and I know what transpires in Franksland.”

“If Rakoczy had kin to support him, things might be different,” said Karl-lo-Magne, unwilling to admit that Alcuin was right.

“But I do not,” said Rakoczy, breaking in to their wrangling. “Nor will I have.”

“True,” said Alcuin. “No Bishop would give you leave to marry, your land being in the hands of our enemies, though you are exiled from it.” He did his best to appear sympathetic, but this did not come readily to him. “You have great value, no doubt, but you are also one who must go about the world unbound by convention and blood.”

“Do you think so?” Rakoczy could not keep himself from asking. “It may seem so to you, but I have great loyalty to those of my blood still in the world.”

“Whom you admit are scattered and few,” said Alcuin.

“That’s so,” Rakoczy agreed, “and all the more reason for us to honor our bonds.”

“There you are right,” said Karl-lo-Magne. “A man’s first loyalty must always be to his blood, or all else fails. You can trust no one if you cannot trust blood.”

“Then there is no more to be said,” Alcuin conceded, looking away from the King.

“That woman—Odile?—is she still to your liking?” Karl-lo-Magne asked Rakoczy with a grin.

“She is a delightful creature,” said Rakoczy carefully. “It was most generous of you to arrange matters for me in regard to her.”

“She will be no trouble to you. If you should have any complaint, inform me and it will be tended to.” His tone was final. “You must not cling to anyone you do not want.”

“I would not,” said Rakoczy, wondering what this was all about.

“Hathumod is a fairly dull companion, once her initial youth and sweetness palls,” said Karl-lo-Magne. “In time, all women are boring, aren’t they?”

So Karl-lo-Magne was shifting his interest to Odile, Rakoczy realized. “I will keep this in mind,” he said to the King, and added to Alcuin, “I trust, Sublime, that I do not offend you.”

“I have known Great Karlus for many years. If I were going to be offended, it would have happened long ago.” He smiled wearily. “But I am grateful for your concern, Magnatus.”

Karl-lo-Magne scowled. “I am only concerned that Rakoczy not be poorly rewarded for his service to me. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I Confess my sins and I accept the forgiveness of God and His Bishops. There is nothing I need repent that I have not—”

Alcuin held up his hand. “Yes, Optime. There is no reason to question your devotion to the Church and her teaching.” He glanced at Rakoczy. “Optime is no monk, and no one expects him to act as if he were one.”

“Of course not,” said Rakoczy, and took another step back, hoping that Odile would be pleased to know that she had finally caught the King’s eye. “Is there anything more?”

“Yes, there is,” said Karl-lo-Magne. “I am very pleased with all you have done for me, yet there are still a few matters for which I must ask your assistance.” He gave a direct look to Alcuin and went on forcefully. “I know your reservations, and I do not begrudge you a single one of them, but you and I must not be caught up in this dispute unless it is absolutely necessary. This cannot become a cause of the Church, either, for it is too divisive. If Rakoczy will make an evaluation, then neither you nor I need be required to accept this as our final decision, and it can be removed from the direct concerns of the Church. That is all to the good, for us and for the Pale Woman as well.”

“If only Bishop Freculf hadn’t insisted on a decision; he and Bishop Iso are at loggerheads, and many others have begun to take an interest in their dispute,” said Alcuin. “There are those who believe she is the Anti-Christ, because of her hands.”

“She should have been content to remain at Sant’ Audoenus, among the mad and crippled. No one would have questioned keeping her there,” said Karl-lo-Magne.

Rakoczy remembered the albino woman he had met on the road to Aachen. “Who is this Pale Woman, and what do you want me to decide?”

Alcuin answered. “Two Bishops are in dispute about her, and it must be resolved before the controversy spreads. This is not a time for division in the Church, or in Franksland.”

“I am not a religious, and I am not…” Rakoczy faltered, not knowing how to continue without putting himself in a compromised position. “Surely One of your kinsman would be a better choice?”

“If the Bishops would agree, very likely,” said Karl-lo-Magne. “But they will not accept any kinsman of mine, and other Illustri or Potenti are unacceptable for similar reasons. So it must be you, or someone like you. I intend to present your name to the Bishops for their approval.”

“And I will support his request, for you are not affiliated with any of the Bishops, or their kin,” said Alcuin. “Then the Church may be sure that there has been no slight.”

Rakoczy nodded, knowing he could not refuse. “Very well; I am at your service. When do I see this Pale Woman?”

“As soon as the Bishops can agree on a time.” Karl-lo-Magne grinned. “There is a conclave soon, and I will see that some arrangement for your inspection of her is made before it concludes, if it can be done. If not on this occasion, then at the next conclave.” His glance toward Alcuin was eloquent, making it clear that the Bishops were not yet inclined to hear the matter.

“Then it will not be at once,” said Rakoczy, relieved.

“It will not be much before the end of the year,” said Alcuin, “if then.”

Rakoczy managed to smile. “If I might have a month to return to my fiscs to supervise the work being done? My camerarius has been in charge, but there are many problems developing, and it is fitting that I resolve them before the next harvest.”

It was a trade, and Karl-lo-Magne recognized it. “You may have a month at the end of spring.” Satisfied with his night’s work, he waved Rakoczy away and went back to dealing with his maps and debating with Alcuin. As Rakoczy reverenced him from the door, Karl-lo-Magne looked up at him. “See you serve me well, Magnatus. What you have done so far is excellent, but you cannot rely on past glories.”

Rakoczy knew that this was more than a warning; he offered a second reverence, saying, “I understand you, Optime,” as the door was pulled closed in his face.

T
EXT OF A LETTER FROM
F
RATRE
G
RIMHOLD IN
R
OMA TO
B
ISHOP
F
RECULF, CARRIED BY
C
HURCH COURIERS, WAYLAID AND KILLED BEFORE THE LETTER COULD BE DELIVERED.

To my most excellent master, Sublime Freculf, the respectful greetings of Fratre Grimhold at the beginning of summer in the Pope’s year 798.

The Byzantine faction is gaining power. Already it is rumored that three of the Curia have embraced their cause and made common cause with the Patriarch of Constantinople, in anticipation of great rewards when Roma submits to Byzantium at last This is a very dangerous turn of events, and many of the Archbishops are reluctant to remain in Roma while the danger exists. Four have left already, to return to their own Archbishoprics with the intention of waiting out the peril. They have taken their monks and priests with them, planning to maintain the Church away from Roma, should it fall. Many of them depend upon Karlus Rex to protect them and preserve the True Church if there is trouble.

In this difficult period, any gesture of support you might make to aid the Archbishops and other high Churchmen will redound to your benefit when Roma triumphs. This is a very good time to devote yourself to the goals of the Church and to ally yourself with the great men who aid the Pope. It will not only advance the Church for you to do this, it will also make it possible for you to advance your own position within the Church, and that must be part of your considerations, for there is no shame in following your own cause while defending the True Church.

The mal aria has already come to Roma, and the fevers are everywhere. Pope Leo has offered daily Masses for the preservation of the people and for Heaven’s willingness to heal those already afflicted. The Pope has ordered that a mass grave be dug in anticipation of more deaths. He has blessed the ground so that anyone who dies of this malady may be assured of Heaven’s blessing, whether the dead perished shriven or not There are many churches in Roma that have elected to keep Hours all through the night both Nocturnes and Vigil, so that the dead need not lie in the streets where dogs and swine will gorge upon their flesh.

It is a terrible thing, to see this city under so many ills, and some see it as a sign that the Church is failing. It is truly a hard thing to hear their fears spoken in whispers. Others say that this is the final test of faith before God comes in Glory to judge the world. It may be that the End of Times is upon us. I cannot help but wonder how Christ would see His Church in this perilous time, and how He, Who suffered so much for us all, would view those who have turned away from the Church when a little adversity is put upon it For this reason, unless you order me to leave, I will remain here, in Sant’ Pier’s See, for the purpose of supporting the Pope as you have ordered me to do, and I will advance you within the Church for as long as I have breath in my body to do God’s Will.

Be certain that I will send you word when the fevers have passed, or when the Byzantines have committed some indignity that exceeds what they have done thus far. In that regard, you may have heard that Empress Irene has assumed the control of the Eastern Empire; her son, Constantininus, has been blinded and imprisoned on her order and his place wholly usurped by her. I have had it confirmed that this is truly what happened, and that the Empress Irene is determined to hold the Empire within her command with the help of the army. With all of this upheaval, it would be dangerous to rely too much on any promises made by the Byzantines, and so I advise you to be circumspect about them. If Great Karlus should seek your opinion, keep in mind all I have told you. It could save you and the King many difficulties.

In every assurance of my devotion and continuing loyalty to you and the Church, I ask your blessing and prayers for deliverance from the mal aria.

Fratre Grimhold

Chapter Twelve

T
WO OF THE
B
ISHOPS HAD GOT INTO A CLUMSY FISTFIGHT
, both of them drubbing at one another ineffectively, for they were too drunk to do any real harm to anyone; they scuffled and tottered about the space between the dining tables, oblivious to their fellow Sublimi, each trying to remain upright. Most of the rest of the company was in a similar condition, and a few of them egged on the hostilities. The two long tables at which the nineteen Bishops sat were spattered with the remnants of the huge meal that had been served and was almost finished; now the scullions were trying to keep the Bishops’ cups filled with wine or beer.

Bishop Iso swayed on his bench and reached for the last meat clinging to the boar’s ribs sticking up like an unfinished bridge in the middle of the table; he was tipsier than he had intended to be, but not so inebriated that he was behaving as badly as some of the others. Pulling a scrap of meat from the bone, he popped it into his mouth, chewed quickly, and swallowed, washing the lump of pork down with another generous amount of beer. Watching the fight degenerate into occasional shoves, he laughed, taking consolation in the certainty that in the morning none of them would remember the battle or its cause. He licked his fingers and then wiped his mouth on his silken sleeve. At least, he thought, he was not sitting anywhere near that arrogant fool, Bishop Freculf. Plenty of time to deal with him in the morning, he decided. For now he would make the most of the evening. While a scullion refilled his cup, he helped himself to the honied fruit that the mansionarii were bringing out from the kitchen.

“Sublime,” said Bishop Dagoberht, slurring the title; he sat on Bishop Iso’s left, his dalmatica stained all down the front, and the alb smirched with grease and a red stain from the Longobardian wine he preferred. “Sublime, how can you suppose that those two will be able to settle anything, carrying on like that?” His censure was ruined by a belch.