William of Gellone

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

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

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

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.