Timestruck (32 page)

In her pale blue silk dress, with her hair
piled up in the fashionable topknot style and decorated with two of
Lady Adalhaid’s gold combs, Hiltrude looked remarkably pretty. Her
cheeks were flushed with color, and she moved toward Audulf with
easy, smiling grace.

Gina’s gaze flashed from Hiltrude to
Fastrada. She didn’t think the queen recognized her erstwhile pawn
at first. But Fastrada did know Lady Adalhaid, and her beautiful
face swiftly assumed a fearsome expression. Gina noticed how the
queen s fingers clenched the arms of her chair. Fastrada must have
realized by then who the bride was, but she sat as if transfixed
while Alcuin, parchment scroll in hand, moved to stand facing the
young couple.

Alcuin began to read from the scroll while
Gina watched unconcealed fury mounting in the queen. The marriage
contract noted that Hiltrude’s original dowry, her inheritance from
her father, had been turned over to Chelles when she entered that
convent and could not be returned to her. In place of that dowry
Charles conferred a large estate on Hiltrude, which was given, the
contract stated, in return for faithful service to Francia. In
obedience to Frankish custom Audulf granted a portion of his estate
to his bride, thus completing Hiltrude’s transformation into a
great heiress.

Charles and Gisela smiled benignly at the
bride and groom as Alcuin beckoned to a servant to bring a small
table, ink, and quill pen so the copies of the contract could be
witnessed and signed. The king and his sister were the first to
sign after the bride and groom. Next, Lady Adalhaid took up the pen
and bent over the parchment.

“Count Dominick, Lady Gina,”’ Alcuin called
out, “will you come forward and make your marks?”

At those words Fastrada’s head whipped around
so she was no longer watching the bridal party. Instead, she
regarded Gina with cold malevolence.

Gina’s heart was pounding, but she wasn’t
going to let the queen know it. Keeping a smile pasted on her face,
she approached the table where the marriage contract lay. Alcuin
handed her the pen. Gina had never used a quill before, had never
even used an old-fashioned fountain pen. She saw Charles’s name
written in the shape of a cross, and Gisela’s neat letters in the
new writing style Alcuin was promoting. She noticed that on one
copy Hiltrude’s signature was marred by an ink splatter, probably
the result of nervousness. Gina made up her mind that she was not
going to add a sloppy signature. She dipped the point of the quill
into the ink bottle and began to write her name.

Gina of New York, The pen skimmed across
parchment three different times, and not a drop of extraneous ink
spotted any of the documents. Gina smiled at Alcuin in triumph. She
could have sworn he winked at her.

As Dominick took the quill from her and
leaned down to sign his name as the last of the witnesses, Gina
stepped back and looked around. That was when she saw Fastrada
rising slowly to her feet. The queen’s baleful glare moved from
Gina to Dominick, and on to Charles, who she must have known was
responsible for what was happening.

“How dare you?” Fastrada demanded in a low,
venomous tone. “Dominick of Feldbruck, a traitor and Hiltrude’s
former husband, to be a witness to her remarriage? This is an
outrage! No priest will bless a marriage so witnessed. The contract
is illegal. This so-called marriage is a sham.”

Dominick calmly finished signing the
contract, and Alcuin’s servant began to sprinkle sand over the damp
ink.

“Did you hear me?” Fastrada screeched at
Charles. “What are you thinking to lend your consent to this
abomination? Every bishop of the Church will condemn you for it.
The pope will declare the marriage invalid. Hiltrude is making
herself into a concubine, not a wife.”

“Sit down, Fastrada,” Charles ordered in a
terrible voice.

Confronting his furious wife, he heaved a
great sigh. The sound, as well as the expression on his face,
reminded Gina forcefully of the sigh she had observed after
Fastrada’s loud scene during the trial of the traitors.
Comprehension flooded over Gina, allowing her to understand the
full meaning of what she was seeing. That first, earlier sigh had
been the moment when Charles relinquished his marriage to Fastrada
for the sake of the Frankish realm. Fastrada’s unregal behavior in
the present moment merely confirmed him in his decision.

Fastrada didn’t know it yet. Caught up in her
anger and confident of her influence over her husband, she still
thought she held Charles in the palm of her hand – or the heat of
her bed – as she had held him for ten long years.

Then Gina saw the grief etched on Charles’s
handsome face, and noticed how quickly it was hidden, and she knew
he loved Fastrada still, in spite of all her wickedness. Charles
would hide his deepest feelings, and he would go on, for he truly
was the good ruler that Dominick and Lady Adalhaid believed him to
be, but he’d go on without Fastrada. Her days of power and
influence were over.

The revealing moment ended quickly, and then
Charles was kissing Hiltrude on both cheeks and congratulating
Audulf. A few minutes later they were all trooping out of the
palace and along the road to St. Peter’s church for morning prayers
and to hear the marriage blessed.

As if she had never uttered her loud
complaints about the marriage arrangements, or perhaps in
expectation of yet another emotional scene when her prediction came
true and a blessing on the marriage was refused, Fastrada took her
place beside Charles at the head of the procession. Already Gina
could detect the cool formality in Charles’s manner toward his
wife. She wondered how long it would be before Fastrada was aware
of it. The woman was no fool; she’d figure it out quickly. And when
she did, she’d see to it that someone else paid for her
misdeeds.

Contrary to Fastrada’s passionate
declaration, there was no problem at all at the church, and after
the new marriage was blessed by Father Theodulf, the head priest at
St. Peters, morning prayers proceeded smoothly. The queen stood
quietly at Charles’s side, a glowering presence who could not
dampen the innocent joy of either the bride or the bridegroom. When
the wedding party returned to the great hall, Fastrada claimed a
sudden headache and retired to her chambers before the feast began.
A surprising number of her ladies chose to remain in the hall.

“They remind me of politicians,” Gina said to
Dominick. “They can spot a loser a mile away, and they don’t want
to be associated with one. They’re probably making secret bets on
whether or not Charles will pack Fastrada off to a convent.”

The wedding feast was over by early
afternoon, and the guests waved Audulf and Hiltrude off on their
journey from Regensburg to Audulf’s home at Birnau.

An hour or so later, back at Dominick’s
house, Lady Adalhaid sank down upon a bench, leaned her shoulders
against the wall, put her feet on a nearby stool, and tossed down
the large goblet of wine Gina handed her. Then she expelled a long
breath and held out the goblet to be refilled.

“Just like every other mother of the bride,
once the wedding is over,” Gina said, teasing her.

“You were remarkably kind to my girl. I won’t
forget it,” Lady Adalhaid responded.

Turning her attention to Dominick, she said,
“You did invite me to remain here for as long as I like. However, I
have no desire to stay near a court where Fastrada is. I will
impose upon your hospitality only until our meeting with Charles
tomorrow. On the day after, unless Charles has other plans for me,
I will leave Regensburg and go to live at the country house near
Trier that was settled on me when I married Hiltrude’s father. I do
think I ought to allow the young people some time to be alone
before I visit them,” she added with a wistful smile.

“You are always welcome in my home, whether
here or at Feldbruck,” Dominick told her, and he sounded as if he
really meant it.

Gina couldn’t work up much concern over the
meeting with Charles. He had been so kind to Hiltrude and so
obviously annoyed about Fastrada’s scheming that Gina was convinced
he wasn’t going to punish either Dominick or herself. She believed
Charles was planning to grant Dominick permission to return to
Feldbruck. She would go with him, back to his peaceful estate with
its views of mountains and forest and stream. She could hardly wait
to see it all again.

She didn’t think it the least bit strange
that there were no guards sent from the palace to escort them to
Charles, as there had been since the treasonous plot was revealed
and Dominick placed under house arrest. But the plot was over, the
traitors were punished, and things were returning to normal in
Regensburg. There was no longer any danger, though a nobleman
usually wanted an attendant or two. Dominick called on Harulf to
act as their escort.

Leaving their maidservants at the house,
Gina, Lady Adalhaid, and the two men set out for their appointment
with the king. This time they weren’t heading for the main palace
gate. Instead, they took the street that ended at the square in
front of St. Peter’s church. At one side of the square was the
palace entrance Gina and Dominick had used with Deacon Fardulf,
which provided a direct route to Charles’s private apartments.

They had reached the square and were starting
across it when Gina noticed Fardulf also crossing the square,
headed for the front door of the church. She waved to him, and
Fardulf waved back.

“Good morning, my lady,” Fardulf called.

Then, in a split second, the deacon’s smile
of greeting changed to a fearful look, and he abruptly altered his
direction.

“No!” Fardulf shouted, breaking into a run
and heading directly for Gina. “Beware! Dominick – no!”

At first, Gina was perplexed by Fardulf’s
peculiar actions. It wasn’t until she heard Lady Adalhaid’s cry of
terror and spun around to ask what was happening that she saw the
horsemen bearing down on them. She hadn’t heard their hooves on the
damp, muddy street, but Fardulf had seen them and had guessed at
once what they intended.

There were at least six heavily armed men,
though from the instant she first saw them everything was so
confused that Gina couldn’t be sure of their exact number. She did
notice that each horseman was wearing a rounded metal helmet with a
noseguard that effectively disguised his identity.

Even as she began to wonder why they were all
riding so fast through the center of a busy town, and whether they
were going to swerve in time to miss her and her companions, she
realized that the horsemen were heading directly toward Dominick’s
group – and it was clear they had no intention of changing
direction. They were set upon riding down every person who stood in
their path.

The other pedestrians in the square scattered
fast, heading for doorways or the church steps to get out of the
way of the charging hooves.

Dominick was basically unarmed, having only
his eating knife thrust through his belt in obedience to the rule
forbidding swords to be worn within the palace confines. Harulf,
who expected to await his master outside the palace entrance, was
armed with both sword and knife. Gina and Lady Adalhaid carried
with them the dainty eating knives that ladies used, worn in
decorated sheaths at their belts. In no way were those paltry
weapons a match for the flashing broadswords in the hands of the
onrushing horsemen.

“Run, Gina!”

She heard Dominick shouting and tried to do
what he commanded, only to discover that her feet would not obey
her brain. She heard Fardulf yelling and panting for breath as he
raced toward her. Then the horsemen were upon them in a clamorous
rush, and Gina looked up at the gleaming edge of a raised
broadsword that was mere seconds away from descending on her
head.

Suddenly, everything went into slow motion.
Gina saw Dominick slash with his knife at the hindquarters of the
horse carrying the man about to kill her. The animal reared upward,
unseating its rider. Dominick caught Gina around the waist and
pulled her away, hurling her into Fardulf’s arms.

“Take her to the church!” Dominick shouted,
and he turned to meet the next horseman.

Gina heard Lady Adalhaid screaming and saw
the unhorsed rider who had tried to kill her raising his sword
again, this time over her friend. Without thinking she pulled the
eating knife from her belt and jabbed at the assailant s sword
arm.

He was wearing chainmail that reached only to
his elbows, and she struck his forearm. It was enough. He cursed,
dropped his sword, and whirled on her, cold blue eyes furious. When
he saw Fardulf in his clerical robes beside her, the man turned to
retrieve his sword.

“Lady Gina, please,” Fardulf coaxed, tugging
at her sleeve, “come to the church as Count Dominick ordered.”

“I can’t leave Dominick!” she cried. “Let me
go, Fardulf!” She pulled away from the deacon, seeking the one man
who mattered to her.

Dominick and Harulf were shoulder to
shoulder, fighting off the horsemen as best they could, but Gina
saw that it was hopeless. Their opponents were too many, and there
was no way for barely armed men on foot, no matter how brave they
were, to win against well-armed, mounted warriors.

So much shouting and violent action could not
go unnoticed for long, and, after the many disruptions of recent
weeks, the king’s guards were bound to investigate any suspicious
uproar. Or perhaps one of the fleeing pedestrians had reached the
main gate of the palace and there sounded the alarm.

Without warning a band of men-at-arms erupted
around the corner of the palace wall. They were on foot, wearing
chainmail, with their swords drawn and ready for battle, and they
wasted no time setting upon the horsemen. There were so many
men-at-arms that hope blossomed in Gina’s bosom. Surely sheer
numbers would overcome the advantage the attacking riders had so
far held over their opponents. She saw horsemen dragged from their
mounts to fight on foot, while the riderless horses reared and
neighed in panic, thus adding to the noise and confusion. In the
resulting tangle of men and horses, Gina lost sight of
Dominick.