Night Blooming (50 page)

“In time you will come to like it,” he said, going to the far side of the caladarium. “Choose where you would prefer to stand, or lean back and float.”

“I can’t do that,” said Gynethe Mehaut “Standing is all I can manage.”

Rakoczy laughed softly. “If you would like to try floating, I will help you, if you like.”

There was a long silence between them while Gynethe Mehaut settled into the pool. Finally she said, “If you would like to turn around, all you will see is my head.”

Rakoczy swung about, stretching out toward her, half-floating. “If you will let the water carry you, you will find the heat restful.”

“I may try, but not just yet.” She considered what he had said. “If you will show me?”

“Of course; this is how it’s done,” said Rakoczy and lowered his feet to the bottom of the pool, then gradually lay back, letting the water support him until he was on his back, his scarred abdomen almost completely exposed.

“Your injuries must have been … dreadful,” Gynethe Mehaut said, moving toward him as if impelled by the heat of the pool.

“They were, but that was a long time ago,” said Rakoczy.

Gynethe Mehaut stared at him. “No wonder you said you understood.… I thought you had dreamed or imagined … But this is…”

“And it is more than you see,” he said, his voice dropping to just above a whisper.

“How?” She came up close to him. “What did that?”

“Broad knives and hooks, for the most part,” said Rakoczy; they had been made of bronze, and tended to dull quickly, so that the edges of his scars were jagged, a reminder of those bronze knives. He resisted the urge to turn away or stand upright again. The day of his death, more than twenty-eight centuries ago, remained vivid in his mind, though it no longer repelled him as it had once.

“God and the Saints,” she marveled. “Do you never fear that people may become upset by those scars?”

“Yes; that is why I rarely show them. Unlike you, I can conceal my differences. But they are very real, nonetheless.” He held out his hand to her. “Let me see how you’re managing.”

She reached for him. “This is very nice. But my hands feel odd. They tingle.”

“The heat is probably—” He lifted her hands. “You are bleeding, but not alarmingly.” The nearness of her blood was intoxicating, reminding him of the satisfaction that he had missed for so long, that after his most recent encounter with Csimenae, he could not believe he deserved.

“Shall I remove the wraps?” She was staring into his face as if she had sensed something of his need.

“No. Not yet. Not until you are ready to get out.” He let go of her and took a step back.

“Why? Are you afraid the water will harm me?” She held up her hands. “What am I to do? If this blood is a sign of perfidy, as Bishop Iso has said, won’t you need a priest to bless this water, whether I keep my bandages on or not?”

“No,” said Rakoczy. “But I will put a little oil of primrose in the water, against contamination, as I do every time I use this caladarium.” He smiled at her, his own misgivings fading. “So long as the water is clear and hot, it cannot do you harm.”

She made a complicated little sigh. “So I pray.”

“Do you have any reason to doubt?” he asked, trying to understand her anxiety.

“… No.” She raised her arms and splashed them down. “No! I have nothing to doubt!” Her burst of laughter echoed eerily in the steamy room. “I may come to a bad end, or a good one, but just now, I will enjoy myself.”

“That would give me great honor,” said Rakoczy. “I thank you for—”

She put her hand to his mouth; he had to stop himself from licking her bandages. “No. Say nothing. Help me to enjoy this, but don’t explain if to me.” She ran her hand down his chest to the scars. “I will accept all you do here. You know what suffering can be, and you will not use that against me.”

Little as he liked having his scars touched, he let her explore the white swath; he made no effort to stop her, nor did he say anything. It was an odd experience for him, having his fatal injuries so thoroughly scrutinized, and he struggled to maintain his composure, thinking that Gynethe Mehaut had to endure much worse every day of her life. Finally he said, “It was all done long ago.” He waited while she considered this, then added, “After this, I was an exile.”

“Then your enemies did this,” she said.

“The enemies of my people,” he said. “They killed most of my family and made me a slave. Eventually they punished me.” He said nothing about his success in battle that had so frightened his captors that they dared not leave him alive to rally others around him.

“They used you cruelly,” she said.

“So I think,” Rakoczy agreed. “But it was a long time ago.”

She shuddered in spite of the heat and took shelter in his arms. “For this little while, will you pretend that I am just like any other woman, and you like any other man?”

He stroked her neck. “Yes, Gynethe Mehaut. I’ll pretend.” And saying that, he bent to kiss her.

T
EXT OF A DISPATCH FROM
K
ARL-LO-
M
AGNE AT
S
TRASBOURG IN
A
LEMANNIA TO
H
IERNOM
R
AKOCZY AT
L
ECCO,
L
AKE
C
OMO IN
L
ONGOBARDIA, CARRIED BY AN OFFICIAL
K
ING’S COURIER AND DELIVERED ONE WEEK AFTER
R
AKOCZY AND HIS BAND LEFT FOR
R
OMA; FROM THERE, CARRIED BY
C
HURCH MESSENGER FROM
S
ANT’
C
HRYSOGONUS TO
B
OBBIO IN
L
ONGOBARDIA AND FINALLY DELIVERED FIVE WEEKS AFTER IT WAS WRITTEN.

To the most excellent Magnatus, the foreigner Hiernom Rakoczy, Comes Sant’ Germainius, the greetings of Karl-lo-Magne, King of all Franksland, on this, the beginning of May by the Pope’s calendar in his year 800.

Magnatus, it is my intention to extend your right of paravareda, so that you may requisition horses and lodging as you need them in your journey through Longobardia, where my Will is recognized by all as being the equal to any Longobardian King, and therefore as binding on the Longobardians as it is upon the Franks and all the people of Franksland.

I am relying upon you to arrive in Roma as soon as you may, and to establish yourself there within the walls, so that you may always be reached quickly if the Pope’s staff should require that you present the Pale Woman to the Papal Court. You are not to leave her unguarded at any time, nor are you to permit her to travel abroad without your escort to ensure no mishap befalls her. It is still my intention to arrive in Roma by the end of October, but if I cannot make good time, or if my enemies keep me here for months more than I have anticipated, then perhaps it will be up to you to reassure Leo’s Court that I will indeed arrive in time for the ceremony we have arranged. The Pope’s own difficulties we may have hit upon a way to relieve, but I will consult my Bishops and Archbishops before I consider the matter settled When I have had the full benefit of religious council, I will inform you of how we will progress. I will not ask you to take an active role in this unless it becomes necessary, in which case, I will dispatch men to help you maintain the Pope’s authority, should that flag in his absence. If you should hear of anything that may compromise the Pope more than has been the case thus far, I ask you to send me word of it with all haste. Use an episcopal courier from one of the Frankish Bishops or Archbishops, for only they may be relied upon to bring me a full and true account of your concerns.

If you cannot find the means to maintain a proper household within the city walls, then I instruct you to put yourself in the protection of Archbishop Hesengarius, who will house you until I come. I would prefer that you keep your own establishment, but the Pope may not permit this, for he may feel the need of keen ears in Roma upon which he can repose confidence. You will be expected to do your utmost to act in Leo’s interests so long as it also coincides with mine. However you must carry on, I want you to strive for independence; the climate of Roma is rife with politics as it is with the mal aria. It is not an environment that I would like you to become entrapped in, let alone participate in. Leave that to the good Bishops and Cardinal Archbishops of the Church.

It is being arranged for Leo and I to meet north of Roma and to enter the city together, which suits me very well. I am convinced that this show of unity will tend to persuade the Byzantines that the Church of Roma will stand any upheavals, and that all of Europe will band together for the sake of the Church. The Pope will be absent from Roma until I may accompany him there, although many of his Cardinal Archbishops will visit him at Spoleto to settle matters that need the Pope’s attention, and cannot wait against my arrival. Leo is an apt pupil of the affairs of state that impinge upon the Church, and for that reason he is keeping abreast of all that transpires in Roma during his absence.

I am grateful to you for your undertaking this mission. There is no one in my Court on whom I can rely more than on you, at least in this situation. You can do more for me by being apart from my Court, and you are skilled enough to know how perilous Roma is. I ask you not to lose sight of this, no matter what blandishments might be offered to you. Keep your head, and think of the difficulties that the Pale Woman faces, for she, more than you, could suffer for being caught up in the maneuvering of the Church. Also, you comprehend the subtlety of the Byzantines, and you do not underestimate their capacity for intrigue. Nowhere in the West is that more apparent than in Roma.

The Pope is concluding negotiations with Constantinople regarding the matter of my title in a most secret manner, for the Byzantines have not been willing to consider any of our requests. They have resisted allowing me Emperor and Augustus, but Leo is a clever man, and more tenacious than any of the Greeks know. I am confident this will be settled long before I leave Franksland to journey to Roma. If Leo should call upon you in this capacity, then I will release you from your assurances that you will remain aloof from such dealings. If you are required to venture to Spoleto, inform me of it before you leave, so that I may know at what stage these processes are. I am certain that you, being a foreigner, may move about the Papal Court more readily than the Frankish Archbishops, who surely are being watched by the Greeks. So, allowing for the exigencies of circumstances, I give you leave to decide what is best: you can put yourself in Pope Leo’s service for this, and this alone.

The matter of my title rankles. I have no wish to war with the Byzantines over it, but I also have no desire to capitulate to their demands. The Pope has suggested that I unite with him by being Emperor of the Church, which is Universal, thereby expanding my realm beyond being King of the Franks and the Longobards. We are agreed on Most Serene Augustus, Crowned by God, Great, Peace-giving Emperor. The Pope wants the addition of Imperial Governor of all the Romans, and I suppose I must comply, for that would clearly make me Emperor in the West, by virtue of the lands included, but it falls short of making me a Roman Emperor, one with the Caesars and therefore heir to their Emperor. But I know that the Pope is right, and the Greeks would not accept such a sweeping title without a battle, so I will leave it to my successors to reclaim the Roman Empire on behalf of the Church. When that dream is finally realized, all Europe will rejoice. If I were twenty years younger, I might still take on the Greeks over this title, but I have wars enough to last me until I die, and I do not wish to vitiate my armies with yet another campaign. Leo may confer this upon me and I will accept it without cavil, and say we all Amen.

Be stalwart in your purpose. Do not yield in your dedication to my cause. I will reward your fealty just as I will punish any lapses on your part. You are my secret advantage in Roma, and I require you to uphold that obligation or face confiscation, imprisonment, and death. Earn my high opinion, Magnatus, and the world will know of your trustworthiness.

Karl-lo-Magne

King of all Franksland

by the hand of Fratre Perquitus

Chapter Five

B
Y
T
ERCE
R
OMA WAS ALREADY HOT
, the morning light shining off the toppled marble stones that marked the old Forum and the ancient, tumbled temples to old gods no longer honored in this city. The sun was a brassy smear halfway up the high-clouded sky, lending a glare to the morning even while it robbed the shadows of their sharpest edges. A number of little chapels were open to the many pilgrims who wandered the Roman streets, a number of them with small crucifixes sewn onto their shoulders to show their penitence to the world. Gangs of slaves moved through the avenues with wooden sledges, collecting tumbled blocks from old buildings; these were being used to repair the three largest breaches in the walls as well as to rid the city of rubble.

To the rear of the Pantheon, a party of Frankish monks were reciting their prayers, the great dome with its central opening drawing their eyes toward Heaven. The odor of incense hung in the air like dust motes, almost covering the sweaty presence of the monks. There was almost no one about but the Franks; one of them, a maimed, blunt-featured fellow named Lothar, kept his attention on the glowing aperture, his face suffused with rapture. The others with him prayed, too, but without the ecstatic delight Fratre Lothar felt. Beside him, Fratre Egicaberht droned the prayers of the Little Hour, doing his best to disregard Fratre Lothar’s excesses. When the Office was finished, all the monks but Fratre Lothar prepared to leave the venerable building.

“Fratre,” said Prior Ricimar, touching Fratre Lothar on the sleeve of his white Roman dalmatica. “Terce is over.”

Fratre Lothar blinked. “What?” He frowned. “Oh. I was preoccupied. This church—”