CHAPTER 1

Charles Arrives

QuierzyAD 741

Stepping into the darkness of the stairwell, Sunni inhaled themusty scent of aging stone and stretched out her hand as a guide.Although the stairs were steep, she climbed with ease, havingmade this journey to watch for Charles every night since her husbandleft for Narbonne.

She did this more out of duty than necessity. When the army'sbanners were sighted, news of their arrival would be shouted from therampart and echoed throughout the town. The fate of the entire courtwas tied up in Charles's success, and everyone from the lowest servantto Bishop Boniface would storm the staircase to see who had returnedfrom campaign and who had not.

The banners would appear above the horizon along the eastern road,advancing in successive waves of color. The ranks of cavalry and footsoldiers would follow. In time, the sounds of their march would reach thewalls, and the court would strain to see the knights' standards.

Because the absence of a standard from the ranks foretold a knight'sdeath, those who could see would call out to those who could not, and astrange dichotomy would take over the assembled crowd. Cheers wouldgreet the names announced while shouts for those unnamed were calledforward. "Where is Stephen D'Anjou? Can you see Stephen?" and "Whatabout Wilfred? Oh my God, not Wilfred!"

Sunni had seen families collapse in grief beside others who dancedin celebration. Sobs and laughter would blend on the rampart in adiscordant release until the hands of the celebrants stretched out tothose who mourned, and the court would grieve its loss.

Arriving at the top of the stairs, Sunni discovered she would not bealone. A dozen steps away, Charles's daughter Trudi stared out at thehorizon. They watched as the sun dipped low, casting a reddish glow tothe underside of the cloud cover. A cold blast of wind made the girl shiver.Without thinking, Sunni kissed the locket she wore around her neck toward off the night spirits.

"God help me," Trudi said. There was pain in her lament, but Sunniwas reluctant to intrude. Stepmothers, she knew, are not always welcome.She found her own place on the rampart to watch the eastern road.

Trudi had her own reasons to await Charles's return. She waseighteen, old for a maiden. Charles had declared that, upon his return,he would decide whom the girl would marry. Although Trudi had neverspoken to Sunni of this decision, her distaste was visible to any that knewher. Her body was coiled tight, her face a stew of emotions.

Sunni had argued for the girl, hoping to stop Charles from usinghis daughter as an instrument of his diplomacy, but he had insisted.Trudi would wed someone of noble blood. Charles would send her awayto marry a noble on the Roman peninsula, or in Alemannia or Frisia,wherever there was an alliance to solidify, a political gain to be made. Hermarriage would seal a bargain she knew nothing about.

She would be forced from the people she loved, away from the lifeshe knew. She would be alone. Sunni's eyes welled. It was not so manyyears ago that she had shared a similar fate. It was, perhaps, the onlything they had in common.

Trudi had her father's face, which, although a man's face, was stillhandsome on her. Unfortunately, it was not the only trait she hadinherited from him. She was tall for a woman, with broad shouldersand uncommon strength. Thank God, the girl had breasts and hips, Sunnithought, or she might be mistaken for a man. Trudi's hair was by far herbest feature. It cascaded past her shoulders in waves of brown curls thatSunni envied for their thickness.

To Sunni's frustration, Trudi rarely did anything to enhance herbeauty. Most girls her age were using the latest creams and powders.Trudi wore none. She refused to wear a dress, preferring pantaloons andvestments more suited to boys. Sunni had never seen her flirt. She hadnever seen her blush. The girl talked to boys her age the way they talkedto each other.

Sunni had, over the years, tried to involve Trudi with the other girlsat court. Such efforts, however, never kept Trudi's attention.

"They spend their time spinning thread and mooning over knights,"Trudi would say, her eyes rolling. "They talk about each of the boys asif he was a prized horse. `Look at his legs,' or `I just love his shoulders.'"Trudi preferred to find her friends among the boys her age.

Making matters worse, Charles had indulged the girl's fantasy ofbecoming a warrior. Against Sunni's objections, he let Trudi train withthe boys who would become his knights. Trudi strutted about courtin armor and dismissed Sunni's advice. Sunni gently persisted, only tosuffer the girl's continued rebuff. The one time Sunni's advice had beenwelcomed was when the girl's menses had set in. Even then, Trudi haddeclared it nothing more than "a nuisance."

"How do you stand it?" Trudi demanded, without turning to lookat her. Sunni jumped in surprise. She hadn't thought the girl was awareof her.

"Your pardon?"

"How do you stand being married to someone you don't love?"

"I do love your father."

Trudi turned to confront her. "It wasn't even an arranged marriage.He just took you."

"That's not true."

"Of course, it's true." Trudi turned back again to the horizon, recitingthe history. "When Charles stormed Bavaria, he deposed the crazedpagan duc—"

"Grimoald isn't crazed."

"Grimoald married his own brother's widow, flogged a priest, andperformed pagan rituals over his own son."

"His son was dying. The doctors couldn't save him," Sunni said.

"So Charles got rid of Grimoald, put your uncle Odilo in his place,and married you, a Bavarian princess, to bear his third son. Am I missinganything?"

Sunni's face flushed. She looked down at her hands.

"So how do you stand it?" Trudi repeated.

How dare the girl? Of course, Sunni knew the stories. She had helpedspread most of them. She was the "price" for making young Odilo ducde Bavaria in place of Grimoald. She had been "tamed" by Charles, whosubdued her pagan upbringing through his iron will and firm hand.

The truth was that Sunni had seduced Charles from the start. Shehad seen the reality of their situation. The Bavarian royal family was indisarray, and Charles's army was too large to resist. Poor Grimoald wouldnever be acceptable to Charles or his alter ego, Bishop Boniface. And analliance between her family and the Franks offered not only a solution,but a tremendous advantage to both families.

The day she met Charles, Sunni knew she would have him. Tall,strong, fearless, Charles had been forty-two and a widower for a yearwhen he came to Bavaria. He had a light in his eyes that made everyoneelse's seem dull. He was magnificent.

And he looked at her in that way that a man does when he needs tobury himself between the legs of a woman. In less than a week, she hadbound him to her. He was bound to her still.

Now at thirty-two, she played the part of the "tamed" Sunnichildfor Boniface and the court. She said all the Christian words, performedtheir rites so that she could have Charles. But she was no Christian. Shestill had her cache of herbs. She still prayed to the morning sun and thephasing moon. She still communed in secret with her brethren. She evenshared some of their rites with Charles. Wedding Charles Martel hadbeen her choice. She hadn't lied to Trudi. She did love the man.

"Hiltrude," she said, "mostly I find that men's stories tend to be aboutmen. I do love your father. And if truth be told, I chose him. Womenare not powerless, despite what you think. I wasn't powerless when I metyour father any more than you are powerless now."

"What do you mean?" Trudi turned abruptly.

"Rarely do men tell you anything about the role that women play intheir stories."

"No. Why do you say that I'm not powerless?"

"Because you are not."

"You of all people should know my plight," the girl said.

"Women are never powerless," Sunni said. "Perhaps when you arebetter prepared to listen and less prepared to judge, I will tell you aboutit."

Sunni started for the stairs. She could feel Trudi's stare follow her.

"If anyone is interested," Trudi called down after her, "the army hasarrived."

Back on the rampart, Sunni saw Boniface raise a green and redsignal flag to let Charles know there was urgent business to discuss. Shegroaned inwardly. To Charles, matters of state always took precedenceover his family. She and Trudi would have to wait until Boniface hadhis say.

She turned her attention to the approaching army and saw Carloman'sbold red banner with the white cross and the lion of St. Mark. Charles'seldest, at least, was safe. Although, she had never been close to Carloman,Sunni liked the serious, young man he had become. Her only reservationwas Carloman's rabid devotion to the Church. Boniface had been namedgodfather to both Charles's older boys, and the bishop had taken therole to heart. He had taught them the catechism and imbued in thema strong foundation of faith. Of the two, he was closest to Carloman.The young man willingly accepted the bishop's counsel and shared theman's passion in Christ. At twenty-seven, Carloman had grown into aformidable warrior and a clever politician, but it was Boniface who pulledhis strings. And that made Sunni nervous.

Charles's second son, Pippin, was another matter. In many ways, theyoung man was a mystery. He had spent six years being educated on theRoman peninsula in the court of King Liutbrand and become so close tothe Lombards that Liutbrand had formally adopted him as a son.

Sunni took solace in the fact that Pippin was very much like hisfather. Pippin looked like him, swaggered like him, commanded troopslike him. And much like Charles, there was a sullenness that clung toPippin that oft times made him combative and cruel. Sunni enjoyed acloser relationship with Pippin, but she had to admit that the young mancould exhaust her. One Charles in her life was more than enough.

Pippin's green banner with the white eagle flew alongside the bluehawk of Charles's stepbrother, Childebrand. Carloman's son, Drogo, flewhis banner next to Charles, as did Gripho, her son by Charles. Sunni atlast let herself smile. Gripho was safe. All the heirs were safe.

Sunni descended to the main hall, but, as she suspected, Charleschose to meet with Boniface to discuss the priest's urgent news. The twodisappeared with Carloman into Charles's private chambers off the mainhall. Never one to be left out, Sunni went up to her quarters and stoledown the back stairs into the servants' quarters. She snuck through thekitchen, stopping to taste the evening's stew, and stepped into a closetthat bordered the room where Charles and Boniface met. Years ago, shehad bored a small spy hole into the wall.

Through it, she could see Boniface to her right with Charles andCarloman facing her. The bishop appeared to have just finished relatinghis news. Silently, Sunni cursed her tardiness.

She heard Charles reply, however. "Tell him, no."

"It is a tremendous opportunity, worthy of a great deal of considerationand debate," Boniface said.

Charles dismissed this with a wave of hand. "We're not going toRome."

Sunni's mind raced. Rome?

"It's a perfect opportunity," Boniface pleaded. "By aligning yourhouse with the pope, you elevate it above all other families. It grantsyou stature with churches in every region. The pope is in a desperateplace. The Lombards threaten him from the south. The emperor inConstantinople won't help. His ancient ally Eudo of Aquitaine is dead.You are the only power who can come to his aid. He's offering you theprotectorate of Rome."

"No."

"We may not get this opportunity again," Carloman said.

"We're not going, Carloman. We just returned from war in Provence,and there's trouble in Burgundy."

"We crushed Maurontus and the Saracen," Carloman said. "Weplundered half of Provence. And it will only take a small force to handleBurgundy. We could do it with half our troops."

"If the Saracen are committed to campaigning on this side of thePyrenees as they did with Maurontus," Charles said, "we will need theLombards' help ourselves. Or are you so anxious to become a followerof Muhammad?"

Carloman looked insulted. "We could split our armies. Leave Pippinat home, and I'll ride with you to Rome."

"I think you underestimate the threat, Carloman. The Lombardsare formidable."

Sunni couldn't agree more. Liutbrand was a strong and clever ally,but if Charles marched on Rome, the king would become a strong andclever enemy. Charles spent years cultivating relations with him.

"If we turn up in Rome," Charles continued, "Liutbrand will unite hiscousins against us as a common foe. No, they won't be so easily mastered.It will take more than a title like `protectorate of Rome' for me to turnon them."

"How about `king'?" Boniface asked. Sunni held her breath.

Charles squinted. "Did Pope Gregory say that?"

"Without a Merovingian on the throne, and with you controlling allrealms of the kingdom, it's the next logical step."

"Did he say that?" Charles insisted.

"The subject can be raised."

"Then there will be too many strings attached."

"Father, this isn't like you!"

"We're not going, Carloman."

Sunni turned to go. She had known Charles long enough to knowthis conversation was over.

* * *

Trudi ducked under the sword and spun right, away from her attacker.The thrust had been clumsy. She positioned herself to his right, wherehe could do the least damage. Ansel, she knew, was better with his rightarm. She would have better luck defending against a backhanded blow.

He came again. This time she parried, feinted right, and spun left,going for the back of his right knee. He dropped his shield to take theblow and chopped downward with his sword toward her shoulder. Again,he was too slow.

Trudi had been training with the warriors since the age of eight. Shehad started a year later than most of the boys because it had taken hera year to convince her father to give his permission. Ultimately, Charleshad relented and given her a sword made by the Saracen. It had a curvedblade that was lighter and more flexible than the broadswords the boysused, though it had only one edge and tended to break against the largerblades.

Her armor too was different. She didn't wear the heavy chain mailthe older boys draped over their torsos. She favored the Saracen leathersprotected by small armor plates strapped to her chest, shoulders, legs, andarms. She could move more quickly than they could and had developeda number of spinning moves that gave her an advantage over them. Theboys liked to challenge her because she presented a different kind ofswordplay. It required more than brute strength to beat her.

She and Ansel often sparred at the end of the day on the practicegrounds, choosing to compete again after the others had finished. Today,the air was so thick and hot that her armor felt like it weighed threestone, and her leathers stuck to her skin like tar. Waving for a rematch,Ansel stripped to his waist and grabbed a lighter practice sword. Trudialmost wept with relief and doffed her small plates of armor to fight inher leathers. At nineteen, Ansel was massive, his muscles shining withsweat in the heat of the day. Trudi noticed that he was smiling—not ather, but to himself. Clearly, he was doing more than staying cool; he wastrying to limit her advantage.

Ansel picked up a small shield. Trudi picked up a second but shorterpractice sword. A shield would help her little against Ansel. He was sostrong that he'd break her arm if she tried to withstand one of his blows.Speed was her only ally.

They circled inside the practice ground wall, each looking for anopening. After several feints, Ansel rushed her, hoping that the forceof his larger body would unbalance her. She spun to her left. As helumbered past, she tried but failed to trip him. They circled once more.

Trudi feinted and kicked to make Ansel overreact. The slightestopening could be exploited when fighting with two swords. Ansel blockedeach legitimate threat and refrained from reacting to her feints. Trudiswore under her breath. He knew too many of her moves. They circledagain.