Night Blooming (72 page)

“We have not done anything wrong,” called one of the older men.

“No, we haven’t. He murdered Ratrame after he raped her, and he attempted to rape Bleide.” Vulfoald stared at Rakoczy defiantly. “How can we do wrong to avenge our women?”

“You should have brought your complaint to me, or to the Abbott at Sant’ Cyricus,” said Rakoczy, his voice strong enough to carry in spite of his fatigue.

“The affront was to us, not to you or the Abbott,” said Vulfoald. “We have done what had to be done.”

“And it was right of us to do it,” said Gottmar.

“It may have been right, but you have exacted your revenge at great cost to yourselves,” said Rakoczy, his expression somber. “Tell me what transpired and I may be able to lessen your—”

“None of us ask for that,” said Vulfoald, interrupting Rakoczy without apology.

“I trust you don’t intend to let all your village answer for the acts of a few.” Rakoczy tried to offer a means of reducing the impact on Sant’ Trinitas. “If those who helped in the execution will own it, perhaps I can convince the Emperor to exact his sentence on those men only.”

“All of us were part of it,” Gottmar shouted. “For my daughter and for Bleide.”

Rakoczy shook his head slowly. “If you tell me this, I can do little to soften the blow that will fall upon you.” He directed his steady gaze at Vulfoald. “You must know that this has heavy consequences for you all.”

“Only if the King hears of it,” said Vulfoald.

“If I have heard of it, the Emperor will hear of it eventually, and then you and I will have to answer for it.” He studied the men. “Why didn’t you trust me to uphold your women?”

“A Magnatus defend peasant women? You haven’t summoned any of our women for your use, but you have been gone. How can we expect you to give any attention to our women’s misfortunes?” Vulfoald scoffed. “You must think we’re all fools.”

Rakoczy acknowledged the truth of what he said. “Yes. Many hobu would be willing to overlook the abuse of peasant women, or even abuse them himself, but I am not one such, and Karl-lo-Magne has said he is not such an Emperor. The protection of all his subjects is important to him, from the highest to the most common. If you will not allow him to see justice done, then you compromise everything he hopes to accomplish.”

“Fine words,” said Vulfoald, making no effort to conceal his contempt. “But the Potenti have used our women for their pleasure—”

“Have I ever done so?” Rakoczy cut him off.

“Not that I have heard of,” Vulfoald allowed. “But you have been away. Who knows what mischief you might have done had you remained here.” He took a step forward. “Either way, if we do not protect our women, they will all suffer.”

“And so will you,” said Rakoczy, glancing at Rorthger. “I am required to report this. I could have done so when I was first informed of it, without learning anything from you about the incident, but I wanted to give you an opportunity to protect your village. You have a chance to minimize the suffering imposed on your people; I hope you will make the most of it.”

“So you say,” Gottmar shouted, and was echoed by cries from a few of the men.

Rakoczy did his best to keep his voice level. “Your protection of your women will end if you are all sold into slavery for breaking the Emperor’s Law. Why should your children be forced to pay for your actions?” He waited, letting the men consider this. “You will be separated from your women and your children; you’ll never know what becomes of them, nor they of you.”

“It doesn’t need to happen,” said Vulfoald.

“No, but it is likely it will,” said Rakoczy, wishing he could find some way to convince the villagers of the danger in which they stood.

“Not if you tell the King nothing,” said Vulfoald, his voice heavy with meaning. “You could leave here and say nothing. Or you could not leave here.”

Rakoczy heard him out without a qualm. “It’s bad enough that you have killed a criminal, but now you propose to kill me and my manservant—you do realize you would have to kill him, too, don’t you?—and then whom?”

Vulfoald gave a lupine smile. “We would know nothing of it—you would simply disappear. There are outlaws in these woods, and who is to say that they wouldn’t kill you? Waifar was an outlaw who preyed upon travelers, as you know. Other outlaws could attack you. We wouldn’t have to know anything about it.” He looked around at the men behind him, one or two were faltering, the others seemed belligerent. “We’ve dealt with one man who wanted to bring disgrace upon us—what is to stop us doing the same with the two of you?”

“My mansionarii know where we are and they have heard rumors about our errand; so have the soldiers who guard my villa. The Abbott of Sant’ Cyricus knows what you have done, and he would report it to the missi dominici. Think,” Rakoczy implored Vulfoald. “You have already put yourself in danger, and now you compound your error.”

“Only if it is discovered,” Vulfoald insisted, but with less impetus than before. “Men disappear from time to time, and no one but God knows why.”

“I wouldn’t be one of those.” Rakoczy held up his hand. “I have a sworn duty to the Emperor, just as you do. But I have no desire to see all of this place razed and the people scattered. Give me the opportunity to act on your behalf. It is better to lose four or five men than to be completely dispersed.”

“You cannot do that,” Vulfoald challenged him. “You are a foreigner, no matter what privileges the King gives you, and you have little say in what becomes of us.”

“Without your help, I can do nothing about what becomes of you,” said Rakoczy. “Believe this: if you will not give me an account of Waifar’s trespasses, then you will have to take the brunt of the Emperor’s Law.”

“And if we tell you all he did, how can we know that you will report it aright?” Vulfoald demanded, his hands on his hips.

“You have my Word,” said Rakoczy simply.

“Is that all?” Vulfoald asked.

“Do you need anything more?” Rakoczy countered, watching the villagers narrowly.

Vulfoald lowered his head in thought. “How would you present our actions?” he asked at last.

“I have parchment, water, nibs, and an ink-cake with me. I will write down what you say as you say it, and that will be included with the report I am obligated to prepare.” Rakoczy saw the villagers staring at him. “I am no cleric, but I can read and write.”

“So you say,” Vulfoald repeated. “You might do anything and call it writing, and who are we to question you?”

“Fetch a monk from Sant’ Cyricus if you doubt me,” said Rakoczy, beginning to lose patience with these stiff-necked men.

“What monk would question a Magnatus?” Gottmar asked, looking to Vulfoald for support.

“An honest one,” said Rakoczy, and waited with such a calm demeanor that the villagers began to back off from him, unnerved by his composure. “If you need to have the assurance of the Church, choose any monk or priest you prefer to witness what I write. I will wait until the monk can be brought, if you insist upon it, and I will permit the monk to write down all he hears.”

Vulfoald shook his head. “Fetch Fratre Larius from Sant’ Cyricus. He will watch all you write and attest to its accuracy.”

“That is satisfactory to me,” said Rakoczy, and motioned to his companion. “If you will carry one of the villagers to the monastery, we can begin to take down the account of Waifar’s activities and the manner in which you addressed it.”

Vulfoald shook his head. “Our man will ride one of our ponies.” If he recalled that the ponies originally came from Rakoczy, he gave no indication. “It will be better for him to ride separately, in case they should be pursued.”

“As you wish. But if the Fratre is to be fetched tonight, it would be wise for my man and yours to leave shortly.” Rakoczy was growing weary of the resistance he found in this small village. “Rorthger, help them to saddle a pony.”

“I will have Gohewin ride with you,” said Vulfoald, and pointed to the young man with a scraggly beginning of a beard. “He is my cousin and he will act for me.”

Rakoczy nodded. “As you wish.” He finally dismounted and walked up to Vulfoald; the Magnatus was half-a-head taller than the Majore, and he lifted the well-bucket. “My horse is thirsty.”

“Let him drink,” said Vulfoald, aware his permission was not needed.

“Thank you,” said Rakoczy, and dropped the bucket, listening to it splash into the water.

“If you would like to drink, there is beer and some new wine,” said Vulfoald angrily.

“It is very generous of you,” said Rakoczy. “But it is unnecessary. I would rather you give some of the wine and beer to your people.” He began to draw up the bucket.

Vulfoald was torn between feeling insulted that the Magnatus would not accept his hospitality and satisfaction that the people of the village would be allowed more celebration. “What can we do to show you honor?”

“Give me a full account of your dealing with Waifar and I will be satisfied. I would like that better than food or drink.” Rakoczy also thought that if the men were slightly tipsy they might be more candid in their reports than if they were wholly sober and resentful.

Vulfoald glared at him, suspecting subterfuge. “We have work yet to do before sundown,” he said.

“Then do it. While my man and yours go to Sant’ Cyricus, you may complete your daily labors. I will accompany you into the forest to see how your clearing of trees is coming, that I may include your industry in my report to the Emperor.” Rakoczy hoped that this would serve to put the villagers more at ease; he put the bucket under his grey’s nose and held it while the horse drank.

Vulfoald frowned. “If it is your wish, it is our duty to accommodate you.”

Gohewin reverenced Rakoczy. “Magnatus. I must go fetch one of the ponies.”

“Yes. Do it,” Rakoczy said, and watched the young peasant hasten away.

“You are determined to stay here until the Fratre is brought,” said Vulfoald, making it an accusation.

“Yes. The Emperor requires it of me when I have discovered a possible crime. I must remain where it was said to occur to make sure any of those who could have participated do not flee.” He met Vulfoald’s irate gaze with a look that bordered on sympathy. “As you have your duty to me, so I have mine to the Emperor. I wish you could comprehend that.”

Vulfoald laughed angrily. “A fine excuse. What does the King know of us, and why should he care what happens here, particularly to a man who rapes and murders?”

“Great Karl has set rules for his empire, and if any portion of his rule fails, it all fails,” said Rakoczy.

“You sound like the Abbott and all his high-flown praises of the Bishop.” Vulfoald made a sudden gesture of frustration. “You pretend that what we do is watched by the great ones, the Potenti and Optime himself, but they do not care what we do so long as they have their revenue.”

Rakoczy agreed with Vulfoald but he said, “It has been thus, but Great Karl is trying to return to the ways of the Romans, putting law above men.” He set the bucket back on the rim of the well.

“No man does that, so long as he has relatives and obligations to his family.” Vulfoald turned as the clop of hooves heralded Gohewin’s return, a small speckled mare on a lead. “The saddle is in the barn.”

“I’ll attend to it Majore.” He handed the lead to Vulfoald and rushed off to get the one riding saddle the village owned.

“When he brings the Fratre, we’ll be ready to tell you all we know,” said Vulfoald. He held up the lead to Rorthger and walked away without waiting for Rakoczy to give him permission. “Everyone return to your work. Don’t be lax because the Magnatus is waiting here. Be back at sundown. We will eat and drink to the King’s honor, and the Magnatus’ good fortune.” The villagers hurried to obey him, moving out of the square quickly, as if ashamed to be seen there now.

Rorthger, still mounted on his copper-dun, looked down at Rakoczy. “What do you think will happen to these people?” he asked in Greek.

Rakoczy answered in the same language. “You know as well as I do: at best the men will be made slaves; at the worst, all of them will. Nothing I say can stop that. The Emperor will declare that justice has been done, and this land will be given to peasants from other parts of Franksland.”

“Then why must you—” Rorthger began, then stopped. “Of course. They will Confess it, and the monks will report the incident, and then their punishment will be worse.”

“Exactly,” said Rakoczy. “This way, I should be able to persuade Karl-lo-Magne to be lenient on the women. It will be hard for them to manage without their men, but at least they will have their children and a place to support them. It isn’t much, but I cannot do more.”

“Do you think the Emperor will take your advice in this matter?” Rorthger inquired. “How can you be sure he will listen to your plea?”

“I hope he will. He has declared himself beholden to me for my service to him. I will make my request for mercy contingent upon my past service, and he may decide to honor my recommendation.” A slight frown flicked over his face. “This is a hard thing to do—asking Great Karl to show these villagers the same considerations that he grants to the hobu.”

“Do you think you will succeed?” Rorthger asked, then said, in the Frankish of the region, “So, you are ready to depart?”

Gohewin put the saddle on the mare’s back and tightened the girth in a quick jerk. “I am, almost.” He had a bridle hanging from his shoulder, and he put this on over the rope halter the mare wore. “Now. I am ready,” he announced, and climbed into the saddle, pulling the reins in and reaching out to claim the lead from Rorthger.

“We will return as quickly as possible,” said Rorthger to Rakoczy.

“I will be waiting for you,” said Rakoczy.

“Are you certain you stand in no danger?” Rorthger asked in Greek.

“No; but it is not so great that I am afraid,” said Rakoczy in the same language, then added in Frankish, “The Emperor will welcome anything I can tell him about the nature of this place, and how the villagers have done so much to make the most of the land.”

Rorthger turned his gelding’s head toward the narrow track that led to Sant’ Cyricus. He signaled to Gohewin, saying, “Walk out.” As the two of them moved off, Rorthger drew his sword, holding it at the ready.