Night Blooming (41 page)

I am grateful to you for the time we spent together, for through your attention, my worth became apparent to Great Karl. I am also thankful that you did not leave me with child, or I would not be able to present the King with another child. For this and your many considerations you will remain in my prayers for at least two years.

You must not grieve that I am no longer your mistress; you yourself said that we would not remain together for many years, and you know that I am resigned to our separation, as you must also be.

Odile

Part Two

H
IERNOM
R
AKOCZY
, C
OMES
S
ANT’
G
ERMAINIUS

T
EXT OF A LETTER FROM
A
LCUIN OF
Y
ORK AT
S
ANT’
M
ARTIN AT
T
OURS TO
H
IERNOM
R
AKOCZY,
C
OMES
S
ANT’
G
ERMAINIUS, AT HIS FISCS NEAR
S
ANT’
C
YRICUS AND
S
ANTA
J
ULITTA ON THE
S
TAVELOT ROAD, CARRIED BY
C
HURCH COURIER.

To the most excellent Magnatus, Hiernom Rakoczy, on this, the last day of January in the Pope’s year of 800, the greetings of Alcuin of York, Bishop of Sant’ Martin at Tours, of Sant’ Josse, Sant’ Loup, Flavigny, Sens, Ferrieres, and Cormery, with the prayers that this finds you in good health and enjoying the continued favor of Karl-lo-Magne.

Magnatus, I have taken the liberty of writing to you in order to prepare you for the changes that may soon come upon you. I know Optime is not inclined to allow his people time to prepare for the work he intends for them. I think you would be better served knowing what has recently passed between the King and me in regard to you and your many skills.

Well do I know that you have been more devoted than most of those Franks who are his kinsmen, and that you have received more envy than thanks for all you have done. Therefore I am going to tell you what the King wishes you next to do: he will send you to Roma, in advance of his going there. He has certain unfinished business with his Holiness which must be smoothed unofficially, and that is the task he intends to wish upon you. At another time he might have sent me on such a mission, but he is now trying to keep the Church from any appearance of dispute as well as giving Pope Leo every opportunity to show his own power so that it will not be assumed that the Pope has become a Frankish puppet and not a Byzantine one, as some of the Cardinal Archbishops continue to hope.

Since Optime is aware that I am not in favor of his efforts to make himself Emperor, he has permitted me to remove myself from the contention in Roma, which I am grateful to him for granting me to do. The Bishops of Franksland are divided enough for many reasons; I have no desire to provide them with an excuse to be more alienated one from another. So some of my burden will fall on your shoulders. You, as a foreigner, need not uphold the honor of any kin, and this gives you opportunities most of Great Karlus’ Court do not, and cannot have. You may not think this a reason for rejoicing, but I must tell you that you perform a true service when you undertake this mission.

In addition to all the rest, the King will ask you to escort the Pale Woman, Gynethe Mehaut, to Roma so that the Pope may make a decision in her regard. As you may have been told, after due consideration, it was thought too dangerous to bring her to him while he was still recovering from his wounds, in case her bleeding hands are truly a sign of the Anti-Christ, and therefore sure to be harmful to Pope Leo. In Roma, surrounded by Cardinal Archbishops, the Pope will have fewer reasons to fear Satanic strength than he would have in Paderborn, where he lacks the support of the Cardinal Archbishops. If you are not troubled by her—and I have been informed you are not—then you would spare many clerics, and the young woman as well, the risks that many feel she represents. I hope you will pray on this, and meditate on all she may represent before you agree to escort her, for once she is in your care, you will not be able to walk away from her until she is in Roma, and by then, you may be damned. That would be poor recompense for all you have done, and an unworthy end to your service to the King and Church. If you decide you can endure her company, then God will surely bless your endeavor unless you succumb to the lures of diabolical forces.

Bear in mind, if you will, that this woman is not like others, and though she appears similar to most, she is apart from humanity, as much as she would be if she were an ape. Do not be deceived. You will have to protect yourself from any malign influences she may have, and it will be your duty to be sure that others are likewise protected. Your escort cannot be snared by her seeming helplessness, or you will not be able to travel safely. If it should be revealed that these wounds and her pale skin are signs of God’s Favor, then all who guide her may count themselves most blessed for the honor of being in her presence for so long as it takes you to escort her.

The King will provide escort of his own soldiers, which will vouchsafe his protection through all his realm. For that reason, you will not be needing your manservant, who may remain on your fiscs in order to act in your stead as he has done before. The soldiers will not tend to your wants beyond their mandate, but you do not need a servant to look after you at all times as some of the effete Romans do. Be sure to take such belongings as you will need in Roma, including a full ceremonial dalmatica for the coronation Optime is planning for himself. If you would prefer to purchase such garments in Roma, then be sure you take sufficient sums to pay for them; as much as Karl-lo-Magne shuns display in his general life, he insists upon it for ceremonial occasions, and no one is exempt from his requirements, no matter how great the cost may be.

I hope you will receive this in the spirit in which I intend it, for you have been a most exemplary Magnatus and therefore, in my opinion, deserving of a chance to prepare for the journey you will have to make. You are an experienced traveler, and that is to your credit. I pray that you will find the roads passable and free of bandits and other rogues, but that is in God’s Hands, is it not?

Alcuin of York, Bishop

By my own hand

Chapter One

R
ORTHGER SECURED THE STRAP
around the second trunk filled with Rakoczy’s native earth and tested it to be sure it would hold. “How soon must you depart?”

“The escort will be here tomorrow or the day after, if we have no more rain.” He looked around his upper room, the small windows ajar, his athanor still cooling from his night’s work. “There will be gold enough for the both of us for more than a year as soon as I can remove the crucible.”

“That is all to the good,” said Rorthger. “You will make another tour of the fiscs before you leave?”

“A cursory one, yes. I’m afraid I have to ask you to come with me, so that the villagers understand that your authority is my authority while I am gone.” He sat on the tall stool and opened an alabaster jar set on the table in front of him. “This is for all manner of stings, bites, and burns. Use it sparingly. And remember, it is no help against the bite of a mad dog.” He stared into the middle distance. “Almost nothing is.”

Because he had heard these instructions many times, Rorthger asked no questions; he watched his master, doing his best to read his state of mind in his behavior. “No. Almost nothing is.” He glanced toward the largest window, indicating the cloudy sky. “This is a wet spring.”

“Yes,” Rakoczy agreed. “And the water will be high, for a wet spring here brings an early thaw in the mountains.” He looked down at his Persian boots of black, embossed leather; the thick soles and heels were atypical for the design, but only Rakoczy and Rorthger knew that. “The earth in my soles should be replaced tonight.”

“I’ll attend to it,” Rorthger promised. “Will you see Waifar? His arm is fully healed and he is becoming unreliable.”

“Is he stealing?” Rakoczy asked.

“I think so. He’s also snooping about the villa. One of the women in Sant’ Fleur complained that he had tried to waylay her when she went to drive the sheep into the meadows.” Rorthger shook his head. “He has no gratitude to you, and no obligation.”

“I didn’t set his arm with that anticipation,” said Rakoczy, and went to his old, red-lacquer chest. “You know where I keep the sovereign remedy and the lotion for pustules. The drawing-paste is in the yellow jar, and the tincture for wheezing and coughs is in the tall bottle. The syrup of poppies is in the stoneware container. Linen strips are in the drawers. What am I forgetting?”

“It hardly matters, my master,” said Rorthger with a faint smile. “I know where you keep all your medicaments. The green box has the herbs to ease childbirth, and the covered scyphus has the liquor for bathing open wounds.” He approached Rakoczy and closed the doors of the chest. “How long do you suppose you will be gone?”

“I hope less than a year,” Rakoczy told him. “The King won’t travel south until he has spent much of the summer and fall on campaign. Then, when winter stops the fighting, he will come to Roma for his coronation, or so I understand from what the missi dominici said before they left yesterday.” He rubbed his face and encountered stubble. “You’d best shave me and trim my hair before I leave, as well; with no reflection, I can hardly trust myself with a razor or shears.”

“At least mirrors are few,” said Rorthger, determined to shake off the first intimations of melancholy that were encroaching on Rakoczy. “I will tend to that when I have done your boots and your brodequins. Will you visit any women before you go?”

“You think I should, don’t you?” Rakoczy said. “I may. Will you be content to leave it at that?”

Although it was not the answer he hoped for, Rorthger nodded. “You have a long way to go, and in sunlight. It would be prudent to fortify yourself.”

“I don’t disagree,” Rakoczy said. “But with Waifar on the prowl, it might be wiser to find a woman at some other estate on my travels.”

“You will go from here to Attigny?” Rorthger asked.

“Yes, to get the Pale Woman. Then we’ll go south to Luxeuil, through Burguntly to Tarantaise, then east across the mountains to Lake Como.” He ticked these destinations off on his fingers.

“To your villa there?” Rorthger asked, supposing it would be his destination as a break on his journey.

“Yes, if there is no trouble with it. I have a Will from my supposed uncle, bestowing it on me. It will match with the copy at Sant’ Chrysogonus, and that should be enough for the local Potente to permit me to take possession of it; he does not know me. My native earth is in the foundation and it will certainly strengthen me.” He shook his head. “Old friend, please believe that I will not put myself in any danger that I can avoid.”

Rorthger was not convinced, but he said, “Of course,” and let the matter drop. “When did you want to make your rounds of the villages?”

“Soon, I should think. Have Hradbert saddle our horses—none of those I am taking with me; they need a day of rest and feeding—and we’ll set out as soon as I have a word with Bufilio.” At the mention of this mansionarius, Rakoczy saw Rorthger frown. “What is it?”

“He has gone to his uncle’s house. He left last night, a short while before sunset. He said there was something his uncle required of him, but I don’t know what it is.” Rorthger swore under his breath. “I think Waifar followed him.”

“To do him mischief?” Rakoczy asked sharply.

“I can’t say, but I worry. I should have mentioned it, but with all the activity of yesterday, I didn’t remember noticing until just now.” His scowl hid his chagrin.

“You needn’t castigate yourself,” Rakoczy told him. “I might not have noticed such an event at all.” He got off his stool. “So. Inform Hradbert that we will ride out shortly. I trust all is well with the horses; he has said nothing about any trouble.”

“All is well,” said Rorthger, relieved that he could offer Rakoczy some welcome information. “Livius’ new foals are thriving. We have three so far. You saw the two colts; there is also a filly.” He inclined his head. “I’ll go find Hradbert at once.”

“Fine,” said Rakoczy. “I’ll finish with my medicaments I’ll carry in my sack, and then I’ll come to the stable.”

“Shall I wait for you there?” Rorthger paused on the second stair beyond the door.

“Unless I am delayed too long.” He gestured toward the windows. “I’ll go get my leather mantellum, in case of rain.”

By the time they met again in the stable, Rakoczy had donned his black leather mantellum and had pulled on black gloves from Verona; these were very likely among the most impressive items of clothing he owned, for gloves were a luxury in Franksland, and simply wearing them would awe the villagers and peasants he would see. “I know,” he said to forestall the remark he could sense Rorthger longed to make, “but it is more effective than shouting or ordering beatings would be.”

“So it would,” said Rorthger as he climbed onto a big-shouldered bay gelding. “And much less trouble.”

Rakoczy gave a crack of laughter. “Am I so obvious?” His grey gelding minced and sidled as Rakoczy swung his leg over the high cantel.

Hradbert stood by the wide stable doors, shaking his head. “You only use those blunted rowels. You’ll never get any real speed from your horses without sharpened rowels.”

“That hasn’t been my experience,” said Rakoczy, and used his calves to urge his grey into a trot; the horse was fresh and wanted to respond, his forward action slightly exaggerated. “He’ll calm down in a bit.” Gathering the reins, Rakoczy started his horse toward the villa gate; as he passed out of the villa, he saw Waifar loitering around the corner of the wall and wondered briefly what the man was doing there. Then Rorthger caught up with him and they set off at a canter for the village of Monasten, keeping to the narrow roads rather than cutting across the newly planted fields.