Genevieve had another girl she named Angele. Otto wanted a second son, but he was not unhappy with a girl. He said his life was now complete, having a son and a daughter of his own. He wanted to count Olivia, but she was so uncooperative, she made it hard. In those days, Otto stayed home. He limped around the palace and often sat by the window, staring out into the distance. Genevieve imagined he was remembering his youth, and probably his first wife and their love affair. Genevieve did not mind. She did her best to make sure his days were quiet and peaceful.

Genevieve went back to her fortification project, but not with the same fervor as before. After losing so many men and ships, the Saracens got the message and stayed away from Provence, at least while Genevieve was alive, and the pirates, what remained of them, decided to pick on other hapless shores.

Genevieve, herself, got very busy. She was concerned about the poverty and standard of living in her county. No one in Provence would know or even guess the poverty in which Genevieve had been raised, but from her upbringing, Genevieve developed a soft heart toward the poor. Too many people lived ragged lives and did not always have enough to eat. The county had fallen on hard times since the Romans left. The merchants had all gone away, and the river traffic down the Rhone Valley had all but stopped. She decided what she needed was merchants, salesmen, and sailors. Provence had olives and olive oil, wine, and grain that still grew in the Rhone Valley. She needed a way to market these things, and so she arranged things with Charles.

She imported several communities of Jews from Italy. The Jews were the ultimate middlemen and merchants in those days, and they built small communities attached to her five main ports, the places she called Nice, Frejus, Toulon, Marseille, and Arles. Arles especially got all that river traffic. Then her ships got built, at last, and she worked with the Jewish community to open trade all over the western Mediterranean, in the islands, in Italy and Southern France, in Barcelona and Hispania, and even with the Saracens of North Africa.

With all that effort, the standard of living in Provence grew, but slowly, very slowly. She cried to think that in her lifetime there would still be a majority of people in Provence struggling with the hard and rocky soil to make their daily bread. The poor you will always have with you, she quoted to herself.

In 783, when Leibulf turned eighteen, Otto granted him the domains and palace in Arles. He made it allodial land, so Leibulf would not be responsible to any other noble apart from the king. He would inherit Provence when Otto passed away, unless the king was unhappy, but this way he would have something if the king decided to appoint a new margrave for the county. It was Frankish-Germanic tradition to divide the inheritance between the sons. It was a good way to keep the boys from fighting. Everyone got something. But it was bad in the sense that the kingdom got continually broken into smaller and smaller pieces, and often the boys fought anyway to gain a bigger piece of the pie.

In this case, Otto only had the one son, but sometimes kings were not pleased and replaced those who they felt were not doing a good job. In his old age, Otto did not worry about that much. He did not worry about anything much. Genevieve, for all practical purposes, ran the March of Provence, and the various knights, barons, counts, city councils and town elders soon learned to listen to her. Her word was law, and they jumped to it. It became easy for them, however, because clearly Genevieve loved all the people, and most of these men and women, and the people in general loved her in return. Her word might be law, but they knew she only wanted the best for them, and that mattered most.

In 787, Charles came through on his way home from Benevento. William, who had taken up residence in Orange, met him in Aix where he said he wanted to see Genevieve again, and see how she was getting along. She turned thirty-three, and William said he was the same age. They smiled for each other, but then walked away. Charles did not mind. In fact, he placed Cousin William in Orange at the bottom corner of Burgundian territory where he could keep one eye on Genevieve and the coast, including Septimania, and the other eye on Toulouse that faced the Basques and the Spanish Marches.

Otto got up for the king, but he still stayed mostly in bed. Leibulf, who was twenty-three, was excited the whole time. He spent most of the time from the first year after the pirate raid to the present in school first learning his grammar, logic, and rhetoric, and second studying arithmetic, geometry, music, and astronomy. Alcuin sent a student of his, Albinus, and the girls were not let off the hook, though Angele was still too young, only being seven when Charles came to visit. Genevieve had a school built like a boarding school and brought in the children from the other noble families in her territory, so her own children, and Leibulf might have friends.

Olivia did not make friends. Genevieve encouraged her, but Olivia did not appear to want any friends. She turned fourteen and showed no interest in boys, either. She hated Charles. Genevieve reminded her that Charles was her birth father, but it did not matter. She hated Charles and did not cooperate with anything. Charles asked what was wrong with the girl, but Genevieve could only shrug and say she was a teenager.

There was more to it than that, and it all came out one night when Olivia snuck into Charles’ room with a knife. Charles was not so easily taken. He got cut in the arm but got the knife from Olivia’s hand and made enough noise so people came running. By the time Genevieve arrived, Olivia was in the corner screaming threats and horrible words and wracked with tears. Genevieve went to her, but she scooted back on her seat and would not let Genevieve touch her. She said something that made sense.

“Mother, help me. They are torturing me. The pain is unbearable. I am losing my mind. Help me.”

“What can we do?” Charles asked as Leibulf and Angele came in, helping Otto to a chair. They all, guards included, looked at Genevieve who found some tears in her own eyes.

After a good, long scream, Olivia spoke again. “Mother. I have to kill Charles. I have to kill William and Leibulf. Mother! Mother, I want to kill you. The Masters want you dead.” She got up to run at Genevieve, her hands extended like claws. The two guards in the room grabbed her, but it took both of them to hold her as she struggled with unnatural strength.

Genevieve had a face full of tears when she said to Charles. “The nightmare.” It took him a minute to remember, but by then, Genevieve was no longer there. Amphitrite, the Queen goddess of the Mediterranean Sea came out of the past to fill her shoes, and she continued to speak to Charles and the rest of the people in the room. “I am going to try and force her to trade places with herself in the far future.” She did not say if it would work, but after a moment, something changed.

Olivia still looked more or less like Olivia, and yet she did not look right. Her eyes bugged out. Her mouth was full of missing teeth. Her hair was longer, uncut, and sticking out in every wild direction. She looked like she never bathed, or cut her nails, and her mouth could only scream. Something came from the girl like miniature lightning and the two guards were blown back from her side. She had death in her eyes, but she could not move further. Amphitrite had her frozen in place.

“I am sorry Genevieve,” Amphitrite spoke through a few tears of her own. “I am sorry Charles. I am sorry, my poor future child.” She closed her hand and the wild Olivia was crushed into a ball of flesh and bone, the blood squeezed out to stain the floor.

Amphitrite waved her hand and the lump of flesh vanished while Olivia came back to fall to the bloody floor and weep. Amphitrite saw the wisps of darkness that hovered over the girl. They might never leave her alone, always being there to tempt her and torment her for the rest of her life, but they would not be able to enter into her or torture her. It would be a hard life.

Amphitrite went away and Genevieve came back to rush forward and fall to her knees, to hug her daughter and cry with her. Olivia no longer felt the need to kill anyone, but she was not entirely safe. She even told them they could not trust her. It was decided to send her to the convent near Cannes, to build it up with an endowment, and let it be under the watchful eye of Lerins Abbey. Genevieve visited often enough and let the Mother Superior know that Olivia was not to leave the convent under any circumstances, no matter how good, kind, or loving she might become.

“And I hope she may find love, and above all, peace,” Genevieve said.

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MONDAY

Internal twists continue as Otto takes to his bed, Leibulf goes off to war with William of Gellone, then Genevieve visits William as well before someone tries to assassinate the Pope. Happy Reading

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