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Medieval 5: Genevieve 6 Internal Twists, part 3 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

In 797, Charles and the Franks got handed Barcelona, the greatest city on the Hispanic coast. The Wali of the city and the Emir of Cordova had a falling out. In that same year, Angele turned seventeen and married William’s son, Gaucelm. William, Leibulf, and Louis arranged it all, and Genevieve had no say in the matter. William and Genevieve practically had a falling out.

Louis, wisely stayed away, having heard about Genevieve from his father and not wanting to suffer the woman’s wrath. William came with his wife, Witburgis. He spent no time with Genevieve except in gatherings where he passed pleasantries. She did take Witburgis for while one afternoon so William could spend some time with Guerin, Mother Oda being there to supervise. But most of the time she wanted to yell at William.

Gaucelm clearly preferred the company of his Gothic lieutenant, Sanila. She could not tell if the boy was gay, or what. She instructed Angele that if the boy refused to give her children, she should come home and she would have the marriage annulled. No doubt William instructed his son to do right by the girl, but it remained to be seen what would happen. William elevated his son to be Count of Roussillon as a wedding present, so that was something, anyway.

Guerin, at the end of 797, turned five and was a handful. Genevieve and her son nearly had a falling out as well when Angele married. Oda stepped in at that point and mothered the boy, even as she had done almost since she arrived, and Genevieve let her. In fact, at some point the boy stopped calling her Aunt Oda and started calling her Mother Oda. Oda and Leibulf practically served as Guerin’s parents through 798 and thereafter. That proved fortunate, because the following year, 799, was a momentous year in a bad way.

In the west, The Emir of Cordova reconquered Barcelona for the Umayyads. Louis, called the Pious, had been made king of Aquitaine by his father Charles some years earlier. But being only twenty-one, he turned to William and Leibulf for help and advice, and they raised the armies. William got the men from Septimania who were adjusting to his oversight, and this time, the Basques fought with them instead of against them. In 800, they marched over the Pyrenees and laid siege to the city. They would winter there. The city did not surrender until 801, over a year later.

In the east, on April 25, 799 Pope Leo III was attacked by a mob who tried to poke out his eyes and tear out his tongue. The Swabian garrison left in Rome by Charlemagne succeeded in their duty and quickly rescued the Pope. They dispersed the mob and arrested the ones who appeared to be leading the attack. The excuse first given was that Leo was not from the right social class to hold the office. Later, they made up stories about adultery and perjury, but it very much became a kind of he-said-she-said situation without any real evidence on either side.

Charles received the Pope at his camp in Saxony. He called for the ringleaders of the mob to testify, but nothing was clear, so Charles wisely called for a council of the church to decide the matter. They would meet in a year, in November of 800.

Genevieve also felt called to go because something felt terribly wrong in the events as described to her. She knew from history how once the lynch mob got sufficiently stirred up and began to act, the real instigators would back away and watch, and act like innocent lambs if they should be questioned. They could easily lie and say they were shocked and dismayed at seeing what transpired. The leaders of the actual mob were simply the most fanatic men that bought completely into the scheme, but they were not necessarily the masterminds. She also knew that since the attack failed, the ones who started it all would still be there, able to stand back, evaluate their failure, and come up with a better plan for the next time. She would have to investigate the matter herself to make sure there was no next time.

Genevieve escorted the Bishops from Lyon, Vienna, Embrun, Arles, and Aix. They sailed from Marseille in September, and Genevieve would see Charles again. Before she left, she hugged Leibulf and Oda, and smothered seven-year-old Guerin with kisses, whether he liked it or not. She visited Olivia briefly in June and encouraged her to begin a correspondence with her sister Angele.

“I’m not sure Angele will write back. I was terrible to her when she was young. I wanted to kill the girl, though the Masters did not care about her.”

Genevieve looked serious. “Believe it or not, that is a common, human reaction to suddenly having a younger sibling getting all the attention you used to get. Of course, in your condition at the time, you probably thought about the killing more seriously than most, but you did not do it. I understand your feeling of being replaced by another girl, and one that was Otto’s actual child where you were not. Of course, being daughter of the king has to be worth something.”

“Mother. Hush. No one knows that except the Mother Superior, and she is sworn to secrecy. I have made friends, and that was hard enough as the daughter of the margrave. I will lose them all if they find out the truth.”

Genevieve found a few tears and hugged her daughter. “I am so glad you have friends.”

Genevieve wrote to Angele in August outlining her reason for the trip and her thinking. She waited to send the letter because she did not want to get a letter in return saying she was crazy to put herself in such danger. If the culprits imagined she was on to them, her own life might be forfeit. She knew that and promised herself she would be careful.

The journey was uneventful. She got regaled with theology day and night, but the bishops mostly spoke of the trip and the weather with her, until they nearly drove her crazy with small talk. She decided she would rather talk theology, and that improved the voyage, and at the same time it allowed her to speak in favor of Leo and against the completely unacceptable and unchristian actions of the others.

When they arrive in Rome, Genevieve had four whole weeks to get her notes in order and ferret out the truth. It took more like eight weeks, and the council was four weeks into their deliberations by the time she found the truth of it. She found Charles just before the council began. His fourth wife had died, and he was on his fourth mistress, or concubine, a big-breasted young girl named Regina. He acted at first a little perturbed at her presence, but he agreed to see her in private when she insisted.

“Charles,” she immediately scolded him. “You are fifty-five or six. I am forty-five with my beautiful blonde locks turning gray. I am not here for that. I came to find out what you and a whole basket full of bishops would not find out in a million years. I am tracking down the real culprits—the masterminds behind the plot against Leo. I am close. When I have the truth nailed down, I will let you know and you can come arrest them or do what you want with them.”

“Why did we have to discuss this in private?” he asked.

“Because people in the court have big ears, and people with big ears usually have big mouths, too. If word gets out that I am tracking down the bad guys, they might come after me.”

“Makes sense,” he said, and she turned to leave but he stopped her with his words. “How is Olivia?” Genevieve turned again to look at him. He looked uncharacteristically contrite. “You know, you are not included in any record of my antics. I made sure of that to give credence to Olivia being Otto’s daughter. Only we know better.”

Genevieve said, “She is good. She is happy. She has made friends.” she began to cry softly, scooted forward and hugged Charles before she wiped her eyes, turned, and walked out without another word.

Medieval 5: Genevieve 6 Internal Twists, part 2 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Barely one year later, the Count of Toulouse was fighting in Vasconia and got captured by Adalric, the Basque duke. Arrangements were made to set the count free, but the count made certain concessions to the Basques for his liberty. Charles was not having that. He replaced the count with his own cousin, William, and made him a margrave with say over the counts in Septimania and all the coast to the Spanish March. By 790, William, the new Count of Toulouse, was raising an army to invade Vasconia.

Leibulf raised the army of Provence for his first time at twenty-five years of age. He would support William in Vasconia. Otto, who was completely bed ridden by then, wished him well. Genevieve and Angele could only watch as he rode off with his army to join William. Among others who joined them were the counts of Bordeaux, Clermont, and Septimania. They did not exactly have an overwhelming force, but they won their battle. Adalric was exiled from the land and Vasconia was subdued. Charles was much happier with that outcome.

Leibulf came home in 791 with a surprise. He married a girl named Oda. He was twenty-six. She was eighteen, roughly Olivia’s age, or a little older, and from Nimes which was practically next door to Arles. Apparently, they had been seeing each other on and off since she turned sixteen. Genevieve thought he made those regular trips to Arles to check on his property there and was surprised. Leibulf confessed he did not tell her sooner for fear of how she might tease him.

“I never would,” Genevieve told him, but she might have. She did not hold it against him.

Leibulf brought Oda to Aix so she could meet his father. He had a bad feeling that his father was not long for this world. He was right, but first Genevieve got a letter from William.

William praised Leibulf on the battlefield, though it was brief praise, and he concluded that Genevieve must have taught him well. He said he wanted to check up on her one last time before his duties in Toulouse took all of his time and attention. He wanted to visit with Leibulf and pay his respects to Otto, but his wife took sick with the pneumonia and passed away a month ago. Charles and the family already had a new wife picked out for him, and there is no avoiding it, he said, but he insisted that first he needed time to grieve. He escaped to Orange with the excuse of closing up his old home. He planned to stay in Orange until the spring bloomed. He knew it was asking too much, that she travel in the winter, but he would really like to see her again if at all possible.

Genevieve carried the letter around for two weeks, and Otto passed away. The house mourned, and all of Provence sent their condolences. It took two more weeks before he was buried. The Archbishop of Arles did the funeral and the Bishop of Aix assisted. The days dragged on, but basically, nothing much changed. Genevieve ruled in Provence, but Leibulf was beginning to take more and more responsibility. He sat down and wrote a large bequest to Lerins Abbey in his father’s name. He thought of his sister, Olivia, and wrote a note at the bottom, And for the convent in Cannes. The support of Lerins became a regular thing for Leibulf over the years, and his wife Oda went right along with him. She dearly loved Leibulf and he loved her right back.

Genevieve was happy about that, but she wrote to William and then packed her bag. She said she just wanted to get away for a bit, and Leibulf did not blame her. Captain Hector, now with some gray hair, took the duty upon himself to escort the Margravine with thirty soldiers to Orange where they arrived on the sixth of March. William greeted Genevieve warmly, and they spent two weeks together. They hugged and cried, and after two weeks, true to his word, on the spring equinox William reluctantly returned to Toulouse to marry.

Genevieve explained to Captain Hector. “He is my age, thirty-seven, soon to be thirty-eight. You are what, forty-eight?”

“About that.”

“For some reason William and I understand each other in ways it is hard to explain. Anyway, the loss of his wife, Cunegonde, was very hard for him. I think he is ready now to remarry. I only wish him well.”

“And what of you?”

Genevieve paused to think before she spoke, an unusual thing for her, but a habit she was developing as she aged. “The loss of Otto is hard, but I think in part it is because I spent so much time focusing on him over these last few years, especially when he got to where he could hardly get out of bed. I knew—we all knew it was only a matter of time, but it still came as a shock when it happened. I grieve for Otto. We had twenty good years together, but for me… Now, I don’t know what to do with myself. Now, I am left at a complete loss. Poor Leibulf has had to take over much of the running of the county since more and more of my time got spent on my husband. Poor Leibulf got the job whether he was ready for it or not. But for me, I don’t know. I imagine I will end up in some convent and fade away. Maybe I will go to be with Olivia.”

“Not so,” Hector responded. “I feel you still have much to do, and I felt that way since before I knew about your other lives and all your little ones that follow you around like lost puppies. The people of Provence could not love you more if you were their queen. They will grieve terribly when you fade away.”

“And you?”

This time, Captain Hector paused before answering. “I have loved you since the first moment I saw you. I will not deny that.” He stiffened his face and rode with his eyes straight ahead, not willing to look at her.

Genevieve chose not to respond to that. She knew it was so, but Hector was married and had five children, the eldest of which was a newly appointed member of the guard. She would never go there and spoke again only after a time of silence.

“Well,” she said. “William has moved on, and I have no doubt he will do great things under Charles’ son, Louis. He can be Louis’ Uncle Bernard and keep him pointed in the right direction. And I will go home and help Leibulf if he needs help, and encourage Oda to always love her husband, and find a suitable husband, eventually, for Angele, and let that be the end to it.”

Of course, that was not the end to it. Six weeks later, the midwife confirmed that she was pregnant. Leibulf kindly always accepted the child as his father Otto’s child, even if that meant Genevieve had the first eleven-month pregnancy in history. Leibulf would not hear otherwise, and Oda went right along with him. In some sense, Leibulf and Oda adopted the baby, and all the more as Genevieve aged and it looked like Leibulf and Oda would not have any children of their own.

Angele did not care about any of that. She was twelve and enamored with the whole idea of a baby.

Genevieve had a son, Guerin, a week before Christmas. She never wrote to William to tell him, though he eventually figured it out. Charles never questioned her. When he came through to confirm Leibulf in the position of Margrave of Provence, he said he was glad for her, though she complained that she was too old to have a baby. All the same, he was glad she had a son, and he played with the baby like a doting father. He never asked who the father might be, and she never told him.

Medieval 5: Genevieve 6 Internal Twists, part 1 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

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.

************************

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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Medieval 5: Genevieve 5 External Attacks, part 5 of 5

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Leibulf helped her return to her tent. For some reason, she was hungry and tired, which was unexpected because she just spent the last six days resting in a kind of suspension. She should just be one moment of time from when she stood in the back room in Aix-en-Provence. Margueritte did all the living and working over the last six days. All the same, she was tired and hungry.

When Leibulf left her there, all she could think about was Margueritte’s question. Who would be so evil as to let pirates into the city? She heard from Amphitrite. I could go and look if you want. She did want.

Amphitrite identified the culprit before she arrived in the city, and her arrival in the city was instantaneous. She found a woman—a nun, or one dressed like a nun standing by the river gate waiting patiently for the pirates to arrive. Amphitrite hardly had to probe the woman’s mind to know who was behind it. Abraxas, the so-called god who refused to go over to the other side at the dissolution of the gods, empowered this woman to be his hag. She traveled from Northumbria in the British Isles to Aachen, Charlemagne’s capitol, with the scholar Alcuin. She left the scholars and priests behind and traveled all the way to Provence on her own, not that a monstrous hag would have any trouble reaching her destination.

Abraxas was currently confined to the British Isles. He knew returning to the continent would be his death, but apparently he believed if the people invited him to come, that would negate the restriction and allow for his safe return. Abraxas was counting on the idea that there were still Moslem sympathies in Provence. When the people became confused between Moslem and Catholic beliefs, so they no longer knew what to believe, the hag could move in with word of Abraxas, a living god, and with enough converts he might get that invitation.

“Not going to happen,” Amphitrite decided before another lifetime of the Kairos interrupted her. Danna, the Celtic mother goddess said, This is my place. I am the one who put the restriction on Abraxas’ movements and confined him to my islands. I will deal with the hag. Amphitrite agreed and traded places with the mother goddess. Danna turned up her nose. The hag stood by the river gate surrounded by the bits and pieces of humans, all that remained of the gate guards.

Danna dressed herself in a plain dress and toned down the signs of her goddess nature to practically nothing, so she appeared as an ordinary woman, albeit an inhumanly beautiful one. She also gathered a half-dozen city guards to her side for appearance sake. They were window dressing, as she stood near the gate and shouted to the woman. “Servant of Abraxas. Why are you here?”

The nun who was not a nun looked up and looked surprised before she smiled wickedly and responded. “Since you know who I am, whoever you are, you should know your little soldiers cannot stop me. No weapon forged by man can hurt me.” With that said, she began to change from an old nun into a hairy seven-foot-tall monster who roared as a challenge to the soldiers.

“They cannot harm you,” Danna agreed. “But I can finish you. You do not belong here. Abraxas knows he cannot come back to the continent. To do so will be his death.”

“Who are you to say what will be?” the monster asked.

“I am the Kairos, the Traveler in time, the Watcher over history. You might not know me, but Abraxas knows me and he knows what I say is truth.” Danna sprayed the beast with the fires of her earth, and the monster’s roar strengthened. The monster burned, but it did not hurt the beast. The beast actually grew another foot taler and became stronger but then Danna lifted the beast with her mere thoughts and tossed the hag into the river. The hag screamed of death as the fire, suddenly put out, broke whatever bond of life existed between her and Abraxas, the would-be god. The monster melted in the water. She liquified, turning back into a liquid remembrance of the woman-nun, and floated off in the current toward the sea.

Danna turned to the soldiers who stared, mouths open, but did not know what to say. “Tell the city that Margrave Otto was successful. The pirates are defeated and will not come here.” She vanished and reappeared in Genevie’s tent where Genevieve came back to contemplate what just happened. One day she would have to deal with Abraxas. The world did not need to be filled with hags—monstrous servants of Abraxas.

Genevieve decided to lie down. She had a restful and peaceful sleep for an hour and woke refreshed, though still hungry. After another hour of nothing more than sitting and waiting, Genevieve heard some noise in the camp. She thought she better see what was happening. She stood, slowly, and with a sight groan, put one hand on her belly, and waddled back toward the river. It was nearly noon, and she wondered if someone might be cooking. She smelled beef.

Leibulf found her and came running. It looked like the boy made some effort to clean himself up. He took her arm to help her walk over the uneven ground and brought her to Otto who was talking with a young, tall, dark-haired man who was explaining something.

“We came down the Rhone but turned off at Avenio. We followed the river road along the Durance until the turnoff for Aquae. We probably missed you by a day.”

“We got preoccupied,” Genevieve interrupted and turned to Otto. “I smell beef, and maybe lamb cooking. I’m hungry. You wouldn’t think so since I have been sleeping for the last six days, but is it time for lunch? You need to feed us, you know.” She took Otto’s arm and looked up at tall, dark, and handsome while she patted her belly. “Baby,” she said, and looked down at her balloon. The man appeared to suddenly understand.

“My wife, Genevieve,” Otto said. “William of Gellone,” he introduced the man who could not help speaking.

“You came all this way, and to a battlefield, in your condition, if you will forgive me asking?”

Otto and Leibulf both looked at Genevieve who shook her head to say no. “That is rather difficult to explain,” she answered. “You need to trust me. It was no hardship, for me to be here, I mean.” She looked at Leibulf. “Margueritte says she had some hardship.” Leibulf grinned and nodded.

“Well,” William did not know what to say, exactly, so he continued with his story. “We came to Massilia on the next day, but by the time we arrived, you had already gone. The sea was still burning a bit here and there, by the way. We found out where you were headed, and why. I made the decision to gather the ships to follow by sea. We arrived in time to catch the pirates on the riverbank. We caught the rest as they came racing to our side, begging to be taken prisoner.” He paused and looked at Otto. “What did you do to those men? I have never seen men, much less pirates act that way.”

“Ask my wife.” Otto grinned and looked at Genevieve.

Genevieve did not mind telling. She decided she liked this strapping young man, and he would likely believe her since he had witnessed the results. “The gnomes and fairies started with the arrows, and they don’t miss much. Then Leodek, the dwarf chief with a hundred dwarfs, a few ogres, and a mountain troll, attacked with their big clubs, hammers, and very sharp axes. I would hesitate to see that battlefield. Probably pieces of pirate spread all over the field.” She paused and let a few tears form in her eyes. “And seventeen of my little ones are dead or dying. I am grateful to the dwarfs. We were caught on the wrong side of the river. But I am so mad at them at the same time. Leodek has wisely started the march back to the Alpilles.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Now, I am hungry. Can we eat?” She blew her nose on Leibulf’s shirt sleeve.

Leibulf turned her toward the cooking fire. Otto and William followed. William kept speaking. “I brought some five hundred men from Aachen. I sent a hundred in three ships to assist your Captain Hector in Telo Martius. I hope things are well there. I left a hundred in Massilia to guard your prisoners while your men cleared the port from the burning hulks of Saracen ships, and I hurried here with the rest in five more ships to see if we could catch the pirates before they reached Arles. We arrived in the morning after they began to move up the river. We caught the ones left with the ships, mostly on the shore. Of course, we had no idea they had a small army of pirates. I never knew there were so many pirates, or at least I never heard of so many gathered in one place.”

They arrived at the cooking fire and found the most well-done piece for Genevieve to chew on while the rest of the beast cooked. Otto asked. “So, where are you headed?”

“Rome,” William answered. “Most of the men will relieve the troop left to guard the Pope. Cousin Charles raised mostly Swabians for that duty so he could keep his better trained Franks in his own lines.”

“Cousin Charles?” Genevieve asked.

“Distant. Not too close.”

Genevieve nodded that she understood. She showed a small smile and looked down at her lunch.

“So, you are a relief column,” Otto said.

“I am glad you came to our relief,” Genevieve added, and William returned her smile.

“And will you be staying in Rome?” Otto asked, not exactly happy with the eyes being shared between William and Genevieve.

“No,” William said and turned to focus more on Otto. “We are escorting a Northumbrian and his monks to see the Pope. They are concerned about a place called York and want it made an Archbishopric and the man confirmed in the seat. When his interview is finished, I will be escorting him back to Aachen.”

“Alcuin!” Genevieve suddenly shrieked. “Charles needs to keep the man in his palace to teach his children and the court. I need to write to Charles right away. Parma. That name is in my mind. He needs to meet Charles there. You need to keep Alcuin there until Charles can meet him.”

“They have already met,” William said softly.

“Seriously,” Genevieve continued. “Charles needs to keep the man. He is a teacher, you know. He teaches liberal arts. Both trivium and quadrivium. Oh, it is very important. You need to do what you can to make that happen. It is important.”

“Parma?” Otto asked.

“It is a town or small city or something in Lombardy, or Tuscany or somewhere in Italy, north of Rome. Seriously.” Genevieve paused to hear what William might say. He surprised her.

“I know who you are,” William said abruptly, imitating Genevieve’s outburst. “Charles calls you his guardian angel.”

Genevieve smiled and looked down at her lunch.

Medieval 5: Genevieve 5 External Attacks, part 4 of 5

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One pirate ship on Otto’s side pushed to the riverbank and quickly unloaded, thinking they could break through the line of archers and join up with the two hundred and fifty marching up beside the river. The last two ships in the back of the procession, saw what was happening and began to back-stroke. The current helped them, and they soon got out of range. Margueritte let out another quiet “Damn.” Nearly half of their ships will escape, and we still have a small army of pirates on the other side of the river.”

“No, Lady,” A fairy said as she fluttered up close on butterfly wings. “Leodek the dwarf brought his whole troop of a hundred down from the Alpilles. A hundred gnomes of Camargue brought their bows. And my people are not so many, but we brought our bows as well. The pirates stopped moving and looked for cover when the arrows began to fly. They panicked when Leodek and the dwarfs charged, though I think it was mostly the three ogres and the mountain troll that really caused the panic.”

“Yes, Lady Tamarisk,” Margueritte said, knowing the fairy’s name without having to hardly think about it. Margueritte tapped her shoulder, and the fairy beamed for joy at the invitation and carefully came to sit on the shoulder, hardly tugging at all on Margueritte’s hair to get comfortable, while Margueritte moved slowly to where she could see how things went.

“Well,” Lady Tamarisk continued. “Some of the pirates got chopped to little pieces. I cannot lie about that, but I did not have to watch. Some tried for the river. Maybe they wanted to let the current take them away from the slaughter, or maybe thought to swim across the river if they could. But every one that went in the water got pulled down into the deep and never came back up. That is sad. Some ran back the way they came. I think they escaped, but I am not certain.

“And the shipload that attacked the other side?”

“They were stopped. Some surrendered. A few got close to the slaughter and decided to turn around and surrender. I guess they decided it was no good trying to surrender to a berserker dwarf or an ogre.”

“No. That would not have worked.” Margueritte took a deep breath and thought hard to Leodek, the dwarf chief, to make sure he let the men go that ran away. He protested, but only a little.

She approached the men in the three front ships and the two ships that edged up to the riverbank on her side, one being before the blockade and the other being beyond. Her four hundred surviving soldiers had nearly a hundred and fifty prisoners. She imagined Otto saved most of his hundred and fifty and maybe had fifty more prisoners. She also imagined there might be two hundred pirates and five ships where the river met the sea, and they would escape. It was a terrible toll for the pirates to lose more than half their ships and more than half their men, but you never know with pirates. All it might do is make them plan more carefully next time, and maybe not try to bite off such a big target.

“Thank you Lady Tamarisk for your information. I am sorry there are so many men around here. Maybe you should return to your troop. Please thank them all for their help and thank the gnomes too.”

“And the dwarfs?” Lady Tamarisk asked.

Margueritte sighed as she nodded. She blinked and missed the sight of the butterfly that flew from her shoulder. Her eyes were taken by the vision before her. It was Leibulf. He found her at the edge of the river. He came up, his sword drawn and dripping with blood. He looked painted with blood, and he was smiling. Margueritte could not hold back the tide. Genevieve yelled in Margueritte’s head until Margueritte relented and let Genevieve return to her own place and time, and right in front of a bunch of men. Genevieve immediately slapped Leibulf hard on his cheek and turned her yelling on him.

“Men died. Maybe bad men, but they died. I don’t ever want to see you smiling about killing. Not ever. You owe God an apology. And you owe your father an apology as well. You did your duty. Good for you. But you were not supposed to even be in the fighting.” Genevieve found some tears, and no one disturbed her in her grief. Leibulf gave her a quick hug and wisely went to find his father.

Genevieve sat right there on the ground overlooking the river and thought of nothing. She decided her armor felt really comfortable, even when she was in her eighth month. She might wear it more often, but then she might just get some fairy weave that she could make to look like a dress. Fairy weave had the remarkable ability to stretch to fit and be comfortable no matter how big she got, not that she could exactly be comfortable in her eighth and ninth months, regardless. She remembered from last time.

She had to get a passing soldier to help her up when she saw someone she recognized. It was not who she expected, but it was also no surprise. She followed behind the man who walked trapped between two guardsmen, a lieutenant of sorts leading the way.

They stopped short of Otto, who was presently instructing the men in the cleanup of one ship stuck on the riverbank. Genevieve thought of converting the pirate ships to merchant vessels, but they would have to be pulled up into dry dock and given a good look. Some appeared hardly better than salvage.

The prisoner who stood between two soldiers looked around when Otto turned to them to listen. The lieutenant spoke.

“This man claims to be friends with your wife, from Breisach. He claims to be a poor merchant whose ship got caught up in what he thought was a trading expedition. He swears he did not know they were pirates. He says they killed most of his crew and replaced them with wicked men. He says the only reason they kept him alive was because he knew his own ship and could navigate.”

“Please. You have got to believe me…” the man begged, and Genevieve remembered the grating voice as she recognized the man. He was older, perhaps older than Otto, but not so changed that she would not know him.

“Liar,” she shouted.

The man spun around and shouted her name. “Genevieve!”

“Signore Lupen.” She named the man. “You have been a liar from the beginning.”

“No. You know I am quick to take advantage of the chance to make money, but legitimate money. I did not know these men were pirates. I swear.”

“Liar,” Genevieve repeated herself. “Is Antonio with you, and Baldy, what’s-his-name.”

“Berlio? No, they are home, looking at other venues.”

“Charles is not here,” she said abruptly. He tried not to grin, but it was enough to convict in Genevieve’s mind.

Mister Lupen looked down at the ground and muttered very softly, “Mercy.” The guards loosened their grip and he sipped a knife from his sleeve. The guards were not that lax, however. He did not get far, and one of the men in the crowd that gathered to watch hit the man on the back of the head with the pommel of his long knife. Mister Lupen’s knife fell to the ground.

“God may have mercy on you,” Genevieve said. “But down here, you are a danger to yourself and others, too dangerous to let live.” She frowned. “At the risk of sounding like the Queen of Hearts, off with his head.”

The lieutenant looked at Otto, but Otto did not hesitate. “You heard my wife. He may be the first, but he won’t be the last of these pirates to lose his head.”

The guards gripped Mister Lupen tightly by his arms. He was not going anywhere except to the chopping block, and he knew it, but he had one more thing to say.

“Charles is not the only target.”

Genevieve was not surprised by that revelation. She gave Otto a quick kiss when she turned her back on the man and the soldiers dragged him off. Otto looked dirty, but not splattered with blood like Leibulf. “I may lie down for a bit,” she said. Let me know if anything exciting happens.

Medieval 5: Genevieve 5 External Attacks, part 3 of 5

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Margueritte took Leibulf with her into the Camargue. She could not go far until she saw what the pirates did and where they landed, but she wanted to talk to the sprites in the Marshlands when others were not around. The water sprites in the shallow, briny inland seas were a different sort of water babies. They still had the shape of little gelatin looking gingerbread men, but they looked dirty, being colored by mud and sand, and had prickers on them, much like a cactus. Their voices were still child-like but not exactly baby-sweet. For once, Margueritte did not feel like picking one up and hugging it. They looked rather like little swamp things, and Leibulf took one step back on seeing them.

“Our sea cousins report that they have not overheard any serious plans the pirates may have. They have talked about landing at the base of the Grande Rhone where they will decide what to do, but that is it.”

“Thank you, my friends. Keep the brine churning for the birds and the flowers,” Margueritte said.

“We will,” they shouted joyfully and went back to their work which they thought of as the best kind of play. Margueritte turned to the gnomes that oversaw the fields, and the horses, cattle, and sheep that covered the land.

“We have moved our wild and manade charges away from the coast,” the chief gnome started right up. “But we have no more idea what the pirates intend than the water blobs.”

Margueritte shook her head. Her various little ones did not always think or speak kindly about one another. Water Blob was not exactly a loving description, but she spoke on a different thought. “So you know, men will likely fight and blood will color the ground red. I know you will take care of all the birds and animals in the Camargue, only be careful. I would not wish to see any of you get hurt.”

The gnomes smiled at the idea that their goddess was concerned about them, to not want them hurt. They bowed and disappeared mostly blending into the landscape but with a judicious use of invisibility so the humans would never know they were there.

“So, we have to wait?” Leibulf asked.

Margueritte shook her head. “We bring the army down to the salt works, what will one day be Salin-de-Giraud, and we will send spies out from there to see if we can discern or discover the enemy’s plans. We will at least be in a position from there to cut the river and keep the pirates from sailing up the river to Arles.”

That movement took most of the next day. Otto sent riders to the Benedictines and Cistercians in the Camargue to warn them of the potential danger, and then they camped north of the salt works. Otto had requisitioned every boat and river ship and barge he could find in Arles. They carried his troops downriver, and then they would be used to block the river if the pirates chose to sail up the river toward the city. Once again, they waited.

By the time they set their camp, the first pirate ships were landing in the mouth of the river. No one expected any movement in the night. All the same, Margueritte posted sentries to watch for any movement in the marshes and fields. The moon was half-full and the sky sprinkled with clouds so it was not easy to see much in the dark. Margueritte just hoped movement might be seen if the enemy got close.

The army got up well before dawn and ate well, expecting to get in the midst of a fight before noon. The pirates, in contrast, had no idea an army was waiting for them just up the river. They probably imagined by the time the people of Arles realized they were coming they would practically be at the doorstep of the city. If they arranged for a traitor to let them in, they just might succeed.

Margueritte had to think about who might be willing to betray the city in that way. All she could imagine was Moslems in Marseille, Pagan and Orthodox pirates in Arles and Catholics in the countryside. That would throw Provence into a massive struggle and confusion. It was only two generations since Charles’ grandfather, Charles Martel threw the Moslems out of Provence entirely. She imagined there might still be some sympathies there.

When the pirates began their trek to Arles, Otto and Margueritte were both surprised. Roughly half of the pirates, around two hundred and fifty, were sailing up the river in eight ships. That was not unexpected. The river was perfectly navigable up to Arles, baring times of flooding. The other half, however, were marching up the far side of the river and appeared like they had every intention of ignoring the salt works and the monasteries and heading straight for the city.

“They must have arranged a way to get men into the city,” Otto concluded what they all thought at that point.

“But who would do such a thing?” Even Leibulf wondered.

“Not the first time a commander has guessed wrong,” Margueritte said of herself. “Let’s see if we can keep this from turning into a disaster.”

“I would guess they plan to attack the docks first thing and open the river gate,” Leibulf added for his father, and they scrambled to use their riverboats to ferry men across the river before the boats were needed to block the river. They got about a hundred and fifty men across, and Otto opted to lead those men.

“I get easily seasick,” he said as his excuse.

Margueritte struggled to get the riverboats lined up, stretched across the river. She tied some together where the current was strongest and anchored them to keep them from slipping downstream but she wanted to tie them all together to fully block the way. There was no time. At best she could loop them together in a poorly knitted fashion. She got some two hundred and fifty men into those boats, so they would match the pirates in numbers, but that left her with roughly two hundred and fifty on the wrong side of the river.

“Line up,” she yelled at the men that remained on her riverbank. “Get your bows to the ready.” She probably did not wait long enough, but as soon as the pirate ships came within range she yelled, “Keep your heads down and fire.” Nearly two hundred and fifty arrows came from the reeds and bushes along the riverbank. Some were a bit slow, but soon enough the soldiers had to pick their targets. Some pirates got cut down before they all ducked. For the ones closest to the western shore, the ships had to practically row blindly, not daring to raise their heads.

“Damn,” Margueritte mumbled quietly to herself. She should have arranged for flaming arrows. She should have had bowmen on both sides of the river. “Damn,” she said it again.

Otto should have arrayed his men in the best defensive position he could find, but the pirates marching up the bank of the river were coming on slower than the ships. They were being careful to not run into some marsh or bog. Otto gambled and turned his men to the river. Thus, Margueritte did get her bowmen on both sides, and the pirate ships became a death trap. When they reached the riverboat wall, against all orders, the soldiers of Otto and the men of Arles swarmed out of the boats on to the first three ships like ants at a picnic. The fourth, on Margueritte’s side, crashed through Margueritte’s poor knitting job, but barely went further.

The current in the river proved stronger than the pirates imagined. Rowing the twenty-some miles to Arles was not going to happen. About the time they realized they were not going to escape and began to drift back down the river Margueritte got her water sprites to make something like bridges that her men could walk across to the ships. The one that broke through her barrier and was lazily drifting back in her direction, and another one following the first three was also taken. In fact, when the pirates saw the men of Provence walking on the water, many threw down their weapons and surrendered. Some, not very pirate-like, fell to their knees and wept fully believing that God Almighty must be on the side of the Provencal people.

************************

MONDAY

The pirates are stopped, but Margueritte (and Genevieve) wonder what sort of traitor would actually open the gate to Arles. Until then, Happy Reading

*

Medieval 5: Genevieve 5 External Attacks, part 2 of 5

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It took most of the day for Otto’s troop to ride to Massilia. They arrived between three and four in the afternoon. The foot soldiers would still be stumbling in at dark, but between four and dark there was plenty of time for Margueritte to make her special brew. Genevieve had three pumps and hoses built two years earlier and kept in a warehouse by the docks. Margueritte got them out and properly mounted them on the bows of three ships. Otto wanted to object at first because they were his ships and he said three on twenty-three was not a good idea. Even after she explained, he wanted to object because his ships might catch on fire.

“It is real Greek Fire, the real thing,” she said.

“I thought that was a closely guarded secret kept by the Eastern Romans,” Otto responded. “I thought… How did you learn the secret?”

“Nicholas was there. He escorted Kallinikos to Constantine IV and learned directly from the inventor.”

“Nicholas?” he asked.

“Me,” she answered with a smile. “What is more, Nicholas designed and built the pumps and hoses that will be attached to your ships. He built them in his toy shop.”

“Of course,” he said. “You.” He thought about it. “This is a great thing for Charles and all the Franks.”

“Oh no. I’m sorry,” she answered. “I have been careful in putting the ingredients together. The formula needs to remain a secret. I will not do anything that will threaten the future. I have told you. My primary job is to make sure history comes out the way it has been written. The formula remains a secret. We are just borrowing it this one and hopefully only time.”

They waited. They got some sleep and waited some more.

The Aghlabid ships all came into the bay before dawn. They had lanterns, mostly torches, so they could see and not crash into each other. It made them easy targets for her catapult men, but she guessed they hoped to catch the city asleep. They would be surprised. She had big hollow glass balls made and filled them with her mixture. Each had a carefully tested fuse. She had nine catapults, four glass balls for each, trained men to work them, and a few men who were excellent at judging speed and distance. By the time the enemy ships got half-way to the docks, half of the ships were burning and the other half were in danger of sailing over the burning sea. When her three ships that had been anchored half-way again beyond the docks began with the pumps, effective flamethrowers, the opposing ships were already trying to reverse course. Sadly, in the days of sail, it was hard to stop the forward motion, turn around, and sail in the opposite direction, especially in a confined space such as a port. Margueritte guessed maybe six or seven ships escaped back out to sea, but the rest burned and sank along with most of the men.

Otto had his soldiers lined up along the shore to capture any swimmers, and they did take over two hundred Saracens which they later ransomed. Leibulf pointed out that he counted twenty-nine ships, not twenty-three. They found out later that the twenty-three from Telo Martius were joined by six more from Valencia in Al-Andalus. That made for interesting negotiations. The Emir of Cordoba at first refused to acknowledge his own people. In the end, some heads got chopped off, but most got returned for a proverbial pot of gold.

“Maybe we can make enough to pay for the one ship of mine that burned,” Otto grumped.

“The pumps worked just fine,” Margueritte defended herself. “But they are only as good as the men working them.”

Otto sighed. “I am not angry. We just defeated a fleet of Saracen ships and over a thousand soldiers with hardly any casualties. I will smile about it when we get to Telo Martius and see what devastation they have done there… What?” he asked because Margueritte was shaking her head much like Genevieve.

My source, the sea sprites, say six ships left Ragusa in Illyria, four from Bari and one ship from Taranto in Apulia, all Eastern Roman territory. Apparently, they had good spies. They waited in Sardinia until the Saracens attacked. Now they appear to be headed toward Arles and no doubt assume we will be heavily occupied fighting off the Saracens.

“Arles?”

“Yes, but I don’t know how they expect to come up the Camargue, unless they sail straight up the Grande Rhone. And I don’t know how they expect to enter the city unless by trickery or some traitor lets them in. They have eleven ships, which is about five hundred men, six hundred at most, and that is not nearly enough to take a city like Arles. We will have to see when we get there.”

“Maybe they only plan to ravage the countryside and the villages with the abbeys, and steal the salt,” Leibulf suggested.

Margueritte smiled and patted the boy on the cheek. “I know why Genevieve likes you. You use your thinker and pay attention. The Norsemen raided mostly villages and smaller towns.

They especially liked the monasteries, full of gold and silver and monks did not tend to fight back.”

“When was that?” Otto asked, thinking maybe he missed something in his history lessons.

“About a hundred years in the future,” she answered, and Leibulf laughed.

Otto had to leave half of his troops in Massilia to guard the prisoners. That left fifty men on horseback and roughly four hundred and fifty on foot. Otto only asked then where all his horsemen ended up, not having noticed or counted before.

“I sent Captain Hector with a hundred riders to spy on Telo Martius,” Margueritte confessed, “Or Genevieve sent them. My report said the Saracens left about a hundred men and three ships in the town. I suspect they wanted us to ride to Telo Martius with the army, and that would occupy our attention long enough for them to sail in and take Massilia. Even if they figured they would not be able to keep the city, they would have plenty of time to tear down our hard work and set the fortification project back ten years, not to mention the expense of starting from scratch.”

“While we retook Telo Martius and then force marched to Massilia, they would have had enough time to kill plenty of people and burn down the churches, if not the whole city,” Otto agreed.

Margueritte also agreed but changed the focus of their thinking. “Now we have pirates, and then I pray to God we may have peace for a time.”

Otto pushed the men, but it still took two and a half days to reach Arles. Once there, Otto added some two hundred men to his little army, so he at least outnumbered the expected five hundred pirates.. Most of the city, the city watch, and the archbishop’s guard, decided to stay and guard their homes. Otto did not blame them. Five hundred pirates would not be enough to breach the walls, if the walls were manned, but they might find another way into the city and then there would be a real battle. Most people found the idea of pirates scary. Only Margueritte thought of the future and once again said to herself, “They think pirates are bad? Wait until the Norsemen get here.”

Medieval 5: Genevieve 5 External Attacks, part 1 of 5

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Genevieve gave birth to a girl she named Olivia. The baby was a perfect, normal, healthy baby, and yet Genevieve felt there was something wrong from the beginning, something she could not quite name. She did not let it bother her and loved Olivia as much as she could. Charles came through briefly in 775 on his way north to invade Saxony. He praised her for being such a good mother, and Otto praised her as well. Leibulf was just glad to have a baby so he could pretend to be all grown up.

Genevieve treated Leibulf like a baby brother, not really a son. He responded well to the treatment. He called her Mother in front of his father Otto, but Genevieve at other times. She did not mind, and she did tease him some when he got older and became interested in girls. First, though, when she turned twenty and he turned ten, they did learn to ride. Otto rode with them sometimes, but often enough the two of them rode together and talked of many things, or rather, Genevieve talked and Leibulf became a good listener. Genevieve figured that would be a good skill when Leibulf married.

Genevieve took charge of the fortification project. She got some of what she envisioned. She got the ports improved and did get something like walls or improvements to walls around the cities and most of the coastal towns. She did not get many ships built, but she got some, and more were built when she opened trade with Italy all the way down to Amalfi in the east, Corsica in the south, and Narbonne and Barcelona in the west. The Rhone and Dubis river systems still brought plenty of trade goods down from Burgundy to Arles and the coast.

Charles agreed to take Corsica. He saw the opportunity, but Sardinia and the Balearic Islands were not going to happen in 774.

The Saracens still controlled the Mediterranean, in particular the Aghlabid Dynasty out of the old Visigoth Kingdom and Carthage. The pirates in Corsica were subdued, but there were Greek-Byzantine or Eastern Roman pirates out of the Adriatic that seemed especially interested in Provence. The Moors from Al-Andalus were also quick to take advantage of any weakness in Provence seeing the sea as an outlet for gain where they were otherwise being continually pressed by the Franks and Basques pouring over the Pyrenees. Genoa and Pisa plus Rome in Italy had large fleets that helped to keep Corsica in the Frankish orbit and kept the pirates and Saracens at bay. So, again, they gravitated to Provence as the weakest link. Genevieve worked hard to make Provence more difficult for the Saracens and pirates and to clear the sea lanes for trade. She had some success and only cheated a little.

In 778, Genevieve heard about the battle in Roncevaux Pass, and cried all night for Roland. She heard from her immediate past life as Margueritte. Roland was a grand nephew, named after her husband. Margueritte honestly cried, but Genevieve felt the loss.

In the fall of 780, Genevieve finally became pregnant with Otto’s child. She felt happy about that but Olivia, at age seven, said she hoped the baby was a boy so Leibulf could feel threatened. Leibulf actually said he would not mind a younger brother. He could teach and care for a boy. He was not sure what to do with Olivia. They did not get along. Olivia did not get along with anyone.

In the spring of 781, even as Genevieve began to look like she swallowed a balloon, the Saracens, and maybe also the pirates, figured out what she was doing to strengthen the county against them. They did not want anyone taking away what they considered their breadbasket. They sailed into the port of Telo Martius (Toulon) with twenty-six ships of the Aghlabid fleet and overran the town.

Genevieve got angry, not only because of the rampant killing and desecration of the Christian churches and shrines, but because Telo Martius was one town that did virtually nothing to improve the defense of the city and port. She hired the finest military architects and engineers to draw up plans for each town and city in Otto’s domain, but Telo Martius was the most stubborn against doing anything. The council there treated her like a silly little girl who did not know what she was talking about. Now, she supposed there was no point in saying “I told you so.” The ones she would want to say that to were probably all dead.

“This is why we are here,” Otto said as he hobbled in, finely dressed in his armor. “Charles will expect us to drive the Saracens back into the sea,” He reached up to play with his collar. She gently tapped his hand and straightened the collar for him before she called.

“Leibulf.”

“Mother?” Leibulf said as he came in, tugging and squirming a bit in his new armor. He needed to wear it some to break it in.

“You are sixteen,” Genevieve said and slapped his hands down before she adjusted his armor a bit. “You are old enough to go and watch and learn, but you are too young to participate. You are not to draw your sword and put your life at risk, is that clear?”

“Aw… Father.”

“You heard your mother,” Otto said and turned his head a little to not show the smile that crept into his face. He coughed to get serious. “I have left a solid guard here. You and Olivia will be safe while we kick the Saracens out of Telo Martius and make them think twice before they come back… What?” He asked because Genevieve shook her head.

“We are headed for Massilia. I heard from the sprites in the Mediterranean, specifically the Sinus Gallicus, that the Saracens have left a hundred soldiers and three ships in Telo Martius, and they are taking their twenty-three ships to attack Massilia. We will meet them there and have a surprise for them.”

“We?” Otto put his hand to her enlarged belly.

“Not for another month, almost two,” she said with a smile before she turned to the one guard still in the room. “Go and check to make sure my horse is saddled and ready,” she said, and even as the guard saluted and left the room, she traded places through time with Margueritte. Her Frankish was northern dialect and a bit old fashioned, but she was fluent. She would have to depend on Genevieve to understand the peculiar Provencal idioms. She did not speak Occitan at all but she was fluent in Latin and that made up for most of it.

Margueritte came dressed in the ancient armor of the Kairos and immediately said, “No sword.” The sword vanished from her back. She kept her long knife, defender, that rested across the small of her back, and the short knife, Cutter, that was sheathed at her side. She honestly did not know the sword well enough to risk it, but she was acceptable with the knives. Genevieve was excellent with knives. That came from her growing up butchering the beasts and doing all that cooking.

“Yes,” Margueritte mumbled out loud. “But I can hit a target with an arrow.” Genevieve protested in Margueritte’s head. I can hit the target if it not too far away, at least most of the time. Margueritte laughed.

Otto and Leibulf stared, and Otto spoke first.

“You are the same height.”

“Five and a half feet is tall enough for a woman.” Margueritte smiled for him.

“Your voice has changed, and your lovely golden blonde hair has become straight black. You look and sound like a very different person.”

“I am a completely different person, but still me,” Margueritte said, and turned to Leibulf who seemed to be studying her.

“It’s your eyes,” Leibulf said. “They are green, not brown.”

“Mud brown,” Margueritte used the words Genevieve often used to describe her own eyes.

Leibulf nodded. “But your eyes. I can still see Genevieve in there, somewhere.”

“Where?” Otto asked and tried for a closer look.

Margueritte nodded. “This is my Genevieve’s time and place. I am just standing in for her for a bit. Maybe a few days. She is always front and center in my mind, you see?”

“Not really,” Otto admitted.

“We should go,” Margueritte said and began to walk, but slowly so Otto could keep up. “One more advantage I have over Genevieve is I have been riding my whole life and even rode into battle.”

“Honestly?” Leibulf sounded impressed.

“Yes. That was back when Charles’ grandfather faced the Saracens at Tours, though I suppose actually the Princess did most of the riding because I was still healing from an arrow wound.”

“Wow,” Leibulf said, and the same word formed on Otto’s lips but he did not actually say it out loud.

Medieval 5: Genevieve 4 Troubles Averted, part 2 of 3

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In the last couple of days before the wedding, at the very end of April, the Bishop of Basel moved the priest from his rooms in the church so Genevieve could have them to prepare for her wedding. Things got hectic and Genevieve reached the point where she could not think straight. Good thing she had Margo, Nelly, and Edelweiss looking after her.

Mother Ingrid, Ursula, and Gisela got invited to the wedding. Genevieve fretted about that along with everything else, but they decided not to come. They gave plenty of excuses. Genevieve felt glad they would not be there, but then she felt guilty about feeling glad.

The day before the wedding, Genevieve felt sick. She feared her wedding dress would show the baby and her life would be ruined. It was early enough in her pregnancy so she did not show anything at all, but her imagination ran away with her. She did not sleep that night, wondering what she could say to the man for the next however long. He was a nice man, as Bernard told her, but in some ways she lived such an isolated life.

Genevieve knew how to cook and clean. She knew how to sew and weave, and even how to hammer the shingles back on when the wind took them. She knew nothing about high society, or how to be part of the nobility. She could not imagine tea and crumpets with the ladies. She did not even know what crumpets were, but maybe she was getting a few centuries ahead of herself. All she really knew was Mother Ingrid, Ursula, and Gisela were not good role models.

She feared she would be really bored with servants to do everything for her. She would probably have to get a nurse, or a nanny for the baby, so even that would be mostly out of her hands. She could learn to read and write and do her arithmetic. She probably ought to learn to ride a horse. She imagined Margo and Nelly could teach her to shoot an arrow. Hunting was acceptable, though she was not sure about women hunting.

She imagined herself weaving tapestries all day, every day. She imagined making small talk with the ladies, talking about the weather. That would drive her mad. and that brought her back to wondering what crumpets were, anyway.

She wondered if Otto would be happy with her. She wondered if she could make him happy. She feared he might get as bored with her as she got bored with the high life. She had no real, honest idea how to rule a household. As she thought, Mother Ingrid was not a good example, but she had no other example. She knew even less about ruling a whole province. She never even had any say in her own county, and never knew which properties around Breisach she actually owned.

She imagined the sophisticated ladies of Aquae, or Aix, as she thought of it would eat her alive. And that did not even cover her relationship with Leibulf, the eight-year-old son. Who knew what direction that might go?

Mostly, she worried about what Otto would say when he discovered she was the Kairos, the Traveler in time, the Watcher over history. He knew nothing about the other lives she had lived, much less about how she could call upon them in time of need. He would inevitably find out unless circumstances always turned in her favor. Like when did that ever happen? More immediately, she worried about what he might say when he discovered she had responsibility for all the liitle sprites of the air, fire, water, and the earth, such as elves and fairies, and including dwarfs and even dark elves that most people called goblins. She had responsibility for trolls, ogres, imps, and gnomes of every shape, size, and kind. The number of little ones had to be counted in the billions. She tried not to think of that lest she suddenly be overwhelmed with exactly how many.

Genevieve instinctively knew that her life as the Kairos would rise up and bite her. Something would happen to threaten history, like yet another attempt on Charles’ life—Charlemagne’s life, and she would have to act. She already had space aliens hiding in the Jura Mountains. She already had a plot by the Masters to kill Charles and her, and maybe several plots if Darky and Blondy were Masters inspired and not just working for Desiderius, King of the Lombards. Something would come up. He would find out, and what would he think? What would he say? What could she say?

She spent a lot of time in prayer. Being in the rooms normally occupied by the priest helped.

When it came time for the wedding, she had not slept for thirty hours. Naturally, the Bishop decided to speak for well over two hours. Genevieve mostly stayed awake. She was surprised an unmarried man could have so much to say about marriage. She vaguely understood after the fact, that much of it was about his own upbringing and the example of marriage his own parents set. She honestly could not concentrate while he was speaking for all that time. All together the wedding took over three hours and Genevieve figured the congregation had to be mostly asleep by the time they finished. Poor Otto had to kneel so long, with his bad leg and all, he had a hard time getting back up when it was time.

After that, everything became a blur. She remembered eating something and saying thank you a hundred times, at least, for all the well wishes and congratulations. She drank the wedding toast but could not remember drinking anything else. First chance she got, she fell into a very inviting bed and passed out. She slept the rest of that day and the full night. Otto said he mostly sat in a chair by her side and watched her and smiled. She felt bad for him. She told herself she would make it up to him.

Charles and the Frankish army left right away. They planned to gather just before the pass that would take them into Italy. Desiderius was gathering the army of Lombardy on the other side of the pass once he knew where Charles would be coming through the mountains. Desiderius imagined setting a trap for the Franks, but Lord Evergreen watched and figured out how to turn the trap on the Lombards. He also kept track of Bernard via the fairy grapevine. Charles would not move until Bernard reached the pass of Great Saint Bernard.

~~~*~~~

Genevieve and Otto stayed a week in Basel while the armies of Aquitaine, Burgundy, and Provence gathered in Geneva and Lausanne. It was a very different sort of honeymoon week than the week she spent with Charles. Charles and Genevieve spent much of that week in bed. Otto and Genevieve spent much of that week getting to know each other and eating. It was on the fourth day that Genevieve had to confess herself.

They picnicked on the Rhine in a secluded garden with plenty of trees and spring flowers. Captain Hector always made sure two soldiers kept an eye on the Margrave and his Lady, but they stayed out of the way. Margo and Nelly were also there, somewhere near in case they should be needed, but they did not intrude. At first, everything was quiet. Genevieve feared she might actually be running out of things to talk about. She felt the shy coming on, but that got interrupted by the sound overhead. A small Ape shuttle slowly floated over the water. It made no effort to hide. The occupants were clearly looking for Genevieve, and Genevieve had to excuse herself. She did not give herself a chance to worry about it.

Medieval 5: Genevieve 4 Troubles Averted, part 1 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

It took two more weeks for Charles and Bernard to so-called figure it out. Obviously, Genevieve had to marry, and the sooner the better, but the pregnant Countess of Breisach could not be married to just anyone. Bernard came up with the solution. Otto, the Margrave of Provence was in his late forties. He had an eight-year-old son, Leibulf, whose mother died in childbirth, and Otto had been a widower since that time. It was not ideal but Bernard said Otto was a very nice man and would never treat her badly.

Bernard fought alongside Otto in the old days under King Pepin the Short. He called Otto a brave and noble gentleman, like Genevieve’s father. Back when Charles’ grandfather drove the Muslims out of Provence, he made the province a March to watch the Muslims in Septimania, and piracy on the coast, and to watch the Lombards in the east. Otto’s father was the first Marquise, or Margrave in the German tongue.

Otto served faithfully for years and was in on the fight when they finally drove the Muslims out of Narbonne. Now, he apparently raised a little army all on his own and was anxious to go after the Lombards. “The problem is he was wounded on the battlefield and needs a cane to walk,” Bernard concluded.

“He will be no good to us in Lombardy,” Charles said. “Nor would I take a cripple into battle. I’ll take his army, but he needs to stay home.”

“It will help everyone if you keep him home during the fighting,” Bernard said. “I will come to gather the men who are presently in Aquae. They can move up to Geneva and meet us in Lausanne where the Burgundians will gather, and we will see what Aquitaine sends. Then we will move into Italy through the Great Saint Bernard pass.”

“We will see what Burgundy raises,” Charles said as an aside.

“Charles will take the main Frankish army through the pass of Monte Ceneri and we will see what Desiderius comes up with.”

“You’re leaving me in Lausanne?”

“Geneva.”

“You’re leaving me in Geneva?” Genevieve whined.

“Not abandoning you. You and Otto will have full escorts all of the way down river to Arles and then across the coast to Aquae. You will be fine.”

Genevieve squinted at Charles. “The pass of Great Saint Bernard?”

Charles grinned. “Fitting, don’t you think?”

“Ha, ha,” Genevieve said without laughing.

“Charles insisted,” Bernard said with a look of resignation in his eyes. He changed the subject. “Otto will be good to you. He knows about the baby and has pledged to raise your child as his own. He is agreeable on all points, and besides, he says his boy, Leibulf, needs a mother’s influence,” Bernard finished and they waited for her response. It was not what they expected.

“I always wanted to have a baby brother. Mine died when he was two.”

“So, is that a yes?” Charles needed to know.

Genevieve paused but did not let the tension play out too long. “If Otto is all that you say he is, then yes. But if he mistreats me or my baby, you will get a knock on the door.” Genevieve understood that she really had no other choices.

“Of course,” Bernard mumbled. “Of course.”

First thing after that they got everyone moving to Basel. Genevieve got introduced to the people in Basel as the Countess of Breisach. The people, basically strangers, deferred to her and she got some slight bows and curtseys. Genevieve was used to the people back home where she grew up and all the people knew her. Back home they liked her well enough, but this was different. This was a heady experience, but she understood it was mostly Charles or Bernard that got the special attention. No telling what they said behind her back, Charles being married and all. No doubt some of the words were not so nice.

Charles and Genevieve tried to be as discrete as they could. It was easy when Charles got busy building his army. New men came into town every day in April, and as the month progressed, Charles got more and more busy. Genevieve had to content herself with Margo and Nelly for companions, and Edelweiss when she was around. Edelweiss got excited because she found her flower.

“I thought they did not bloom until May, or later, like July,” Genevieve said.

“Apparently, they bloom when Edelweiss tells them to bloom,” Margo responded, and Nelly shrugged.

When Otto and a small contingent of men arrived, his eight-year-old son Leibulf in tow, Genevieve thought she was prepared. She was not. She felt awkward and withdrawn. She hardly knew what to say to the man and tended to look down at her boots. At least she got her own boots.

Otto said, “Bernard, you did not do justice in your description. She is lovely, beautiful, very fetching, I must say. What do you think, Captain?” Otto asked his Captain, Hector.

“Very nice, but rather shy and quiet.” Charles and Bernard laughed until Charles got tears in his eyes and Genevieve bumped him with her elbow.

Genevieve and Otto got to know each other, though they avoided talk about the baby. Genevieve did open up after a short while and found the man was as nice as reported. She decided that being married to the man would not be a terrible thing, and she got along well with Leibulf, the son, almost from the beginning. Of course, he was eight going on sixteen so he was not about to do what Genevieve told him, but she expected nothing else. She indeed saw him as the younger brother she was not allowed to have and only hoped she would not tease him too badly when he started showing interest in girls.

“Lady, lady,” Edelweiss came flying into Genevieve’s room when she was packing to move into the church rooms before the wedding. “Lady.” The fairy was excited and Genevieve knew enough not to interrupt before Edelweiss told her news lest she distract the little one and make Edelweiss forget why she came. “I saw Blondy. I saw Blondy.”

“Where?” Margo asked, pulling her head out from the wardrobe.

“When?’ Nelly asked from the floor in the midst of pairing up Genevieve’s socks.

“What was he wearing?” Genevieve asked last.

Edelweiss let out a little shriek, like her little brain could not answer all those questions at once. She chose to answer Genevieve. “He was dressed like a soldier.”

“When did you see him?”

“Just now. I came straight here.”

“Where did you see him?”

“In town. In front of town hall and the church,” Edelweiss said and took a deep breath, pleased that she remembered and got it out before it flitted from her thoughts.

Margo added a question. “What was he doing?”

“Just sitting there.” Edelweiss flew up to Margo’s face. “He was not doing anything.”

“Genevieve?” Nelly called, but Genevieve was already leaving the room. Her face looked determined. Her steps were deliberate. The others followed.

Edelweiss sat on Genevieve’s shoulder as she marched into town. Like elves who could wear a glamour to appear human, fairies also had ways of being around humans without getting big and looking inhumanly beautiful, which might attract the wrong kind of attention. Most often, people see fairies as birds of some sort so people mostly ignore them. They often appear in the corners of the eye, like some movement in the peripheral vision that vanishes when looked at directly. When people do look directly at them, they naturally projected a kind of perception filter which makes them appear like a spot of light or shadow, or something not quite clear. Even when people concentrate on them, they can be difficult to bring into focus. They often present multiple unclear images where the eyes have to dart around the small area in front of the eyes to see anything at all, and even when they see, it is a faded, unclear picture, like someone moving around behind a translucent veil, unless the fairy wants or is willing to be seen. Of course, the people who get to know the fairy can see the fairy perfectly well. Magic can also pierce the veil, and that was what happened with Blondy.

Genevieve arrived at the town hall at the same time Charles rode up with a small troop of soldiers, mostly captains of some sort come for a meeting. Blondy stood, which got Genevieve’s attention. He had two throwing knives in his hands. Edelweiss chose that moment to squirt from Genevieve’s hair and shout.

“There he is.”

One knife headed toward Charles, but the other headed toward Genevieve, though the fairy got in the way. Genevieve reacted like it was an attack on her fairy. Something like lightning poured from her hands. The throwing knife got knocked to the ground. People got shoved back and out of the way. The electrical charge went straight at Blondy. He may have tried to put up a magical shield, but that would have been like a single grain of sand trying to hold back the ocean. Genevieve was not presently an ordinary young woman, but goddess of the little ones and filled with the power of creation itself.

Charles ducked. The knife cut him in the upper arm, but it was no more than a scrape as it essentially missed. Edelweiss threw her hands up to her face so she would not have to watch. Genevieve let out a shout of surprise. The lightning stopped instantly and she threw her hands up to cover her mouth. Blondy was reduced to a smoking cider of what used to be a man.

“Let me,” Genevieve heard the words in her head. Amphitrite, or Salacia as the Romans called her, asked to take a look. It only took a moment. Amphitrite appeared in Genevieve’s place for one quick moment to look. Genevieve came back to her own time and place well before Charles approached her.

“Interesting, whatever you did,” Charles said with a sly smile, pointing at the smoking flesh that used to be Blondy.

“That wasn’t me,” Genevieve said quickly. “I mean it was me, but it was that part of me that watches over the little ones.”

“Your Kairos.”

“Yes,” she said and raised her voice a bit. “He attacked my fairy.”

Charles looked around, but Edelweiss had rushed to Nelly’s shoulder and presently hid in Nelly’s long dark hair. “Good thing that little one and I are friends.”

“Oh, you have nothing to worry about.” she put one hand on his chest to draw on his strength. She killed a man and needed the strength to hold back her tears. She did the deed whether she admitted it or not. She wanted to cry about it, but instead, picked up the throwing knife from the ground. “You are hurt?” They both looked at Charles’ shoulder. Charles had to twist his arm and head a bit to see.

“Only a scratch,” he said. “But say, how would you like to do that on the battlefield?”

“No, that would not work on the battlefield. Little ones in battle face the same chance as any other soldiers. Sometimes they die and I am not allowed to change that. Meanwhile, I checked if you are interested.”

“You mean that other woman in your place? I blinked and almost missed her.”

Genevieve nodded. “Amphitrite,” she called her, thinking Salacia was a name that might be recognized in that post-Roman province. “Mister Lupen, Antonio, and Baldy are still in Lombardy and have no immediate plans to come this way.”

“Good to know,” he said as he pecked at her lips and went to check on his men. Genevieve turned and walked slowly back to her rooms where she finally let herself cry and finished packing.