The Book of Love (17 page)

“I have never done anything to him.” Matilda seethed. “Why does he hate me so?”

“Because he is jealous of you, and because he is the wicked spawn of an evil father and a dullard mother,” Beatrice responded acidly. “God help Germany when and if he ever becomes king. He isn’t even clever enough to lead the pigs to trough, much less govern Europe. And if he is this malevolent at six, the good Lord alone can imagine what he will be like when he is old enough to fully abuse his power and appreciate bribery. Or worse.”

Since the day of their arrival in Germany, the heir to the throne, the imperious young Henry, had been terrorizing Matilda with relentless fervor. He spent the days concocting ways to make her miserable, and he spent the nights putting those plots into action. Many of his activi
ties involved damaging her hair, which he had a particular obsession with. Sometimes he would follow her around and taunt her with a toy bow and arrow, screaming, “Look, I’m Bonifacio, the dead duke of Tuscany.” Then he would pretend to be shot in the throat and fall to the ground in dramatic, twitching death throes.

Matilda, who had been raised to believe in the power of love, prayed every night in despair:
Dear God, please forgive me for how much I despise him. I know you tell me to love my enemies, but this is too much.
She tried to work through her anger within the Pater Noster each night before going to sleep, as she had been taught by the Master. The lesson of the fifth petal, forgive us for our errors and debts as we forgive all others, was always going to be her toughest. Henry the Terrible gave her plenty of opportunity to work through that lesson.

His verbal abuse was nonstop and consisted of phrases that were usually variations of “Father says you are half barbarian and don’t deserve to be kept in such luxury, but he doesn’t dare throw you out into the street because you will attempt to rally your pagan hordes against his holy imperial person.”

Henry also said horrible things about Beatrice, things that he could not possibly understand at the age of six, about her unnatural and twisted marriage to her first cousin, Godfrey of Lorraine, and how that made her monstrous in the sight of God. Matilda had been locked up in a room by herself for over a week after she subsequently punched Henry in the face, doing serious damage to his delicate nose. It was the only thing on his vile, chinless, pudgy body that was delicate, and Matilda had made the mistake of saying exactly this to the queen when she came to her precious boy’s rescue. Agnes of Aquitaine nearly fainted from Matilda’s audacity and demanded the barbarian child with the unsightly flame-colored hair be locked out of her sight until further notice. Surely hair that color was unnatural, as was everything about this wicked, wild creature who tormented her precious lamb.

Beatrice washed the stickiness out of Matilda’s hair carefully, working through the strands with the heavy detergent from the soap. She breathed a quick sigh of relief: the honey was coming out and would
not harden into a substance that would have to be cut. There was some discoloration from whatever mixture Henry had devised, but time would restore the glorious red-gold color soon enough.

Once the hair debacle was resolved, Beatrice called for some reading material to be brought to them, along with her confessor, Fra Gilbert, who had been allowed to accompany them into exile as he was seen to be a loyal German subject. She requested the writings of Saint Augustine be brought in and presented to Matilda to read. If nothing else, she would see to it that her daughter’s education continued. She wanted her to have every possible advantage in politics when this particular nightmare ended, which Beatrice was certain would happen eventually.

Matilda sat down to study before her little statue of Saint Modesta, the one given by Isobel’s family to celebrate Matilda’s birth. Modesta was recognized as a saint within the Order and by the people of La Beauce in France, because she dedicated her life fearlessly to the teachings of the Book of Love. The statue was the only possession Matilda had been allowed to bring with her from Tuscany, and most of the time it was her only comfort.

That evening, Matilda and Beatrice were left to dine alone in a small, bare antechamber of the palace that was particularly chilly. Something was wrong, but they were not yet certain what it was. The family had not been seen all day, and Henry had not come by to gloat about his stealth mission to destroy Matilda’s hair. This was highly unusual, for the little wretch desired nothing more than attention for his misdeeds.

The following morning, news came that caused Matilda to know happiness for the first time in eighteen months. The German emperor and murdering thief, Henry III, had died very unexpectedly of a fever in the night. The fortunes of his family were highly uncertain, as Germany and the surrounding territories were instantly in chaos. Queen Agnes was given no time to mourn her husband, as immediate action
was necessary. She was declared regent and sole guardian to her son, who would henceforth be known as Henry IV.

Matilda and Beatrice were in limbo for several days, with no news being brought to them and no sign of Agnes or her child. On the fourth day, Godfrey of Lorraine, who had been plotting for just such an opportunity during the long captivity of Beatrice and Matilda, announced himself at the gates of Bodsfeld and presented an opportunity to the queen regent. He agreed that he would swear an oath of loyalty to her and to her son, as would the wealthiest vassals in Lorraine, thus unifying that region and creating some stability in their otherwise shaky kingdom. In return, Agnes would recognize Godfrey’s marriage to Beatrice as legitimate and restore Bonifacio’s property to them.

Trapped and confused, Queen Agnes agreed to do this. She was well over her head in terms of political strategy and had little time to seek advice in the rapidly escalating crisis of her son’s future. She was desperate to at least attempt to secure Lorraine and Saxony for her child in the chaos that would surely follow the death of her husband, an unpopular and unjust monarch who had ruled by fear. Her first priority had to be the protection of Germany and the immediate territories. Italy was the least of her worries at this stage, and Godfrey was savvy enough to seize upon that opportunity. In the mercurial world of European politics, timing was everything.

Matilda and Beatrice departed Germany for Florence in 1057 to begin their lives as the family of Duke Godfrey of Lorraine. Matilda refused to look back as she left Germany behind her, determined never to set foot in that godforsaken frozen land again, unless it proved absolutely necessary to the will of her Lord.

Tuscany was in tatters.

What four generations of Matilda’s family had worked to build—a land of prosperity where the people thrived and the natural resources were harvested with utmost care—had been completely undone by the
German king in less than two years. Henry had raped this land and stripped it of its wealth, leaving these proud people to live as little more than beggars. Piracy, with all the murder and thievery that went with it, had returned to the waterways, but this time it was sanctioned by an emperor’s crown.

As they made their way across Tuscany, the young Matilda was both sickened and terrified by what she witnessed. Gone were the vibrant, thriving towns and villages of her earlier childhood, places she had toured with her father, who had been hailed as a prince. In their stead were dingy structures where the inhabitants hovered nervously in the shadows, fearing the sound of hoofbeats on the roads. Horses brought conquerors and thieves, from which there was no protection, or mercy.

It was in one of these villages on the outskirts of her family stronghold of Canossa that the family stopped one evening for food and shelter. Matilda was exhausted physically by the journey across the Alps, but far more by the emotional toll of what she had been confronted with along the way. She did not, at first, understand what was happening as they entered the village. As one who had known captivity and abuse, she initially feared that the assembled crowd was a danger to her. But as their cortege drew nearer, she was able to make out the chanting of the villagers.

“Ma-til-da. Ma-til-da!”

A group of children carrying flowers ran to her and laid them at her feet. Their parents followed, hailing the return of their beloved countess. That evening, in the faded warmth of what had once been the grand banquet hall of a local lord, Matilda met with the inhabitants of the village. Many came to tell their shocking stories of loss and tragedy at the hands of a ruthless and greedy foreign monarch. At eleven years old, Matilda listened to each and every tale while sitting beside her mother and stepfather. The accounts of injustice against these beautiful people, her people, struck in the deepest places of her heart and spirit. She missed nothing and stored everything. She vowed silently that when they were settled into their new life, she would find a way to compensate each of these people for their loss.

The villagers came to plead to Duke Godfrey, who was now their feudal lord, to restore their holdings and aid them in rebuilding, while providing them with troops for protection. But most of all they came to see their legendary little countess, for she was Tuscan born and the child of a great prophecy. It was Matilda who represented the gleam of hope for the people of northern Italy. It was Matilda who would restore Tuscany to its former, glorious state of peace and prosperity.

The people were certain of it, and so was Matilda.

When the Families of Spirit come together on earth, there is great rejoicing in the house of El and Asherah. Those who recognize each other in this life live in a fullness that is unknowable to those who do not have this blessing.

The only joy greater than union…is reunion. There is an awakening that must happen here. You must awaken while in this body, for everything exists within it, and only through this awakening will you have eyes to see and ears to hear. Only through this awakening will you recognize and remember those with whom it is your destiny to reunite.

For those with ears to hear, let them hear it.

F
ROM THE
B
OOK OF
L
OVE
,
AS PRESERVED IN THE
L
IBRO
R
OSSO

Florence
1057

D
uke Godfrey chose Florence for their new home as he much preferred it to Mantua, where it was hard to compete with the local people’s memory of Bonifacio. From Florence, he could operate in a more cosmopolitan and politicized environment. Mantua, Modena, and Canossa were more provincial in comparison. He expanded and renovated an aging palace that existed in the center of the city, near the stunning octagonal Baptistery that dominated Florence.

Matilda settled into life in Florence, heralded by an emotional reunion with her beloved Isobel. Beatrice, who was now working hard to run the Tuscan holdings in her daughter’s name, was far too busy once again to indulge in maternal matters. While their time in Germany had brought mother and daughter closer than they ever had been, Matilda would always need and crave the nurturing that came from Issy.

Isobel was concerned about the edge that Matilda had developed while in captivity in Germany. She had lost a portion of her innocence and would be slow to trust anyone new who entered her life. And she had become restless and combative in her newfound passion for justice. Isobel and the Master realized that they would have to work hard to emphasize that the desire for justice must not be colored by revenge.
For while one was the work of the light, the other was the work of the darkness. As a leader, Matilda must learn to come from the place of love whenever possible. Love conquers all.

More to the Order’s purposes, Matilda had also not had any real spiritual education for almost two years, critical years in a child’s development. During her captivity, her only religious training had been the harshly orthodox scriptural interpretations that were the daily bread of the German royal family. Working to undo that damage was in itself going to be a challenge. As a result, the inner circle of the Order of the Holy Sepulcher in Lucca had come to the conclusion that emergency measures must be taken. The Master would relocate to Florence, where the Order had a base, a monastery at the edge of the river Arno which had been named for the Holy Trinity, Santa Trinità. A secretive and somewhat mysterious community of monks with ties to the Order had built a monastery there in the tenth century, under the patronage of Siegfried of Lucca, Matilda’s legendary great-great-grandfather. The monks were not only sympathetic to the origins of the Order, some of them were descended from the most powerful bloodline families themselves and were sworn members.

Here at Santa Trinità, Isobel and the Master would resume Matilda’s training in earnest. They would reclaim their child, their precious Expected One, and bring her back into the fold of the Way of Love. They would ensure that she was given every opportunity to fulfill her destiny. They would teach her that God had given her this trial of imprisonment and injustice for a reason, so that she would know and understand the pain of such treatment. She should use this learning to color her own decisions as a leader, to remember the humanity of each and every one of her vassals, to remember that the Book of Love taught that all human spirits were equal, with no man or woman having more value than another. Some might have destinies that appeared more exalted, but that was in human perspective. In the eyes of God, all souls were equal in value.

While Matilda’s lessons had been harsh for someone so young, the Master would emphasize that they were clearly a part of God’s plan for
Matilda’s destiny. They would shape her into the greatest and most benevolent of leaders.

Another cause for concern was that Matilda’s experience with the young Henry had tarnished her relationships with other children her age, particularly boys. The future would depend on her diplomatic abilities, usually with men, so this was an issue that had to be addressed. The Master decided to begin instructing Matilda in the presence of other children, starting with an orphaned boy who had been sent up from Calabria for training owing to his exceptionally quick mind and displays of leadership. He was of a similar age, and the Master believed the boy would be a worthy companion to their little countess. His name was Patricio, and at nine he was already proving to be intellectually and spiritually gifted. Patricio was a lovely child, blessed with a sunny disposition and yet also a strong will. He would be able to keep up with Matilda and even to challenge her; they were enough alike to get along but also to push each other. It was a perfect solution that could prove tremendously healing for Matilda.

Florence
1059

“M
OTHER
, I wish to be trained as a warrior.”

Beatrice set aside the accounts she had been examining as her daughter, now thirteen and exceptionally beautiful, addressed her from the doorway.

“Come in and speak to me properly, Matilda. I cannot have you shouting such things from the hall where the entire household can hear our business.” Beatrice smiled at her to indicate that she wasn’t really displeased by her daughter’s typically impetuous behavior. She not only expected it, she found it charming. “Sit down, my dear. Now, what is this fancy of yours and whence does it come?”

“I have been studying the law of inheritance.” Matilda sat opposite her mother on a bench at a wooden table made of rough-hewn beams.
It was a dining table, but Beatrice preferred to work here as there was plenty of room for her to view all of the accounts in one place. She had become, by necessity, a shrewd and effective business manager for both her husband’s and daughter’s interests.

Beatrice gave Matilda her full attention. She was clearly intent on pursuing this subject, and when Matilda was serious, she would not be denied. By anyone.

Matilda continued with customary passion. “And while the law says that a woman cannot inherit such properties as we hold, it is specific as to why. It says that a woman cannot perform military service, and that the lords who control property must be capable of military service in defense of those lands. So…I would take up the sword and prove that I can lead an army. If I am capable of military service—and I intend to be as capable as any male warrior or more—then there is nothing I can see in the law to block my inheritance. I am already more skilled on a horse than any man in Tuscany, and Godfrey says that my understanding of strategy is greater than that of many of his advisers. I just need the skills in weaponry to become a complete warrior with the capability of defending my own lands.”

Beatrice nodded thoughtfully. If Matilda had been born male, there was no doubt that she would already have been well on her way to being the most accomplished military hero of her time. A genius at strategy, she had delighted her stepfather Godfrey with her skill in chess and in the military games that he devised for her on paper. He even allowed her to sit in on his meetings when the regional Tuscan chiefs came to Florence to give their reports. While the duke of Lorraine was generally considered to be a hard man, he had learned to love both of these extraordinary women in his life and treated them like the family they had become. With Beatrice, he had discovered a solid and worthy partner in the complex ruling of an extensive kingdom. While their marriage was necessarily unconsummated, they had established a fondness for each other that was based first on respect but later on warmth and emotion. In several legal documents pertaining to her life, Beatrice referred to Godfrey fondly as “my man.”

The duke had developed a special weakness for Matilda’s strength
and intelligence and had come to treat her like his own child, and with no small degree of respect. Beatrice considered this now and replied, “Your stepfather is indulgent of you, but he may not allow this. Lorraine is a far more conservative place than Tuscany. He must think of his reputation in both locations.”

“He will allow this. He must. And with both of us insisting on it, he will have little choice but to give in. We are the two most convincing women in Europe, doesn’t he say so himself?”

“I do dare say. You have thought this through, I see, and no surprise. Tell me, does Isobel know that you intend to train as a warrior?”

Matilda nodded. She had discussed her strategy with both Issy and the Master. “They do not object to anything that could ensure my inheritance and protect our ways. My strength is their strength. They know that I will use it to preserve the traditions along with my rights. And they feel that God will grant me special protection in battle.”

Beatrice nodded. Nothing from this child of the two greatest families in Europe would ever surprise her again. While she was not herself a follower of the prophecies revered in Lucca, she was more certain each day that her daughter had been born for a special destiny. Perhaps she was indeed the child of the prophecies of which the Tuscan people had whispered since her propitious birth. She was certainly unique in her strength, beauty, and flourishing wisdom. Beatrice was proud of her and was certain that Godfrey would be impressed by Matilda’s astute grasp of the law. No doubt he had given her the legal documents to review himself and wouldn’t be terribly surprised at her savvy interpretation.

“So be it. I will raise a warrior daughter if that is what you wish. And I will speak to Godfrey tonight when he returns. He will need to find you an appropriate weapons master, and sparring partners who—”

Matilda cut her off. “Who will what? Go easy on me? I think not, Mother. What good to train in weapons if it is only against weak boys who have been told to be gentle with me? I want the best men in Tuscany, and the most hardened. Nothing less.”

“Of course you do.” Her mother was justifiably nervous that Matil
da’s bravado might get her into trouble. But she was equally certain that the girl would have her way in this, as she did in everything. “And that is what you shall have, if Godfrey consents to it.”

“Thank you.” Matilda rose, curtsying gracefully and with respect. “And Mother, it is for you that I do this as well. Never again will anyone take anything that belongs to us. And never again will a German king ravage Tuscany, steal our resources, and terrorize our people. Never.”

Beatrice looked at the strikingly beautiful girl who stood before her. The set of her daughter’s jaw—pure Tuscan warrior—put her so much in mind of Bonifacio that it brought tears to her eyes.

“He would be proud of you, Matilda.”

Matilda’s own eyes welled up immediately. Not a day went by when she did not miss her father. Indeed, she spoke to him every night when she said her prayers. “He sees me, Mother. I know he does. And I will make him proud.”

It would be a mistake for any man in Europe to assume that this petite and fine-boned female could not and would not defend what was rightfully hers. Godfrey of Lorraine would not make that mistake. He agreed to Matilda’s request with surprising readiness, and personally oversaw the selection of her primary military instructor. He knew just the right man.

The knife hit the target squarely in the center, and with such force that it shook the tree. The fearsome warlord who had hurled the weapon turned to face Godfrey of Lorraine with the full force of his wrath.

“Do I look like a whimpering nursemaid to you?”

At the moment, Conn of the Hundred Battles could not have looked any less like a nursemaid, whimpering or otherwise. He stalked toward the target to withdraw his knife, moving with an uncommon grace for such a gigantic man. It was the hottest time of the day and his broad chest was bare and dripping sweat. His long hair, an extraordinary ginger color that matched his beard, was tied back with a leather thong,
giving Conn the look of a Celtic god from ancient legend. This giant did, in fact, hail from the magical and misty lands of the Celts and had come to Florence several years prior, for reasons he chose not to reveal, in search of a mercenary command.

“Not a bit, Conn,” Godfrey replied with no small degree of amusement. Here was a man whom he counted as one of his most loyal warriors and a trusted friend. During their first interview, Conn had been guarded about his personal history. But Godfrey was an astute judge of a warrior’s character, and he could see that there was intelligence and something else behind the pure brute force that confronted him. Over the three years that they had been allied, the duke had discovered extraordinary layers in the man who fought beside him with such strength and loyalty. He also knew that on the surface, Conn was too proud, arrogant, and harsh to consent immediately to instructing Matilda, and certainly not within earshot of his men, as he was now. This would be a bit of a struggle, but one Godfrey was certain to win. Because he knew something else about Conn. The Celtic giant had a soft spot for the girl and often commented on her extraordinary skills as an equestrian and how mythical she looked perched upon a horse and riding like the wind.

There was nothing soft about the glare that Conn turned in Godfrey’s direction as he wrenched his weapon from the target. He lowered his voice as he addressed the duke.

“You will make me a laughingstock with the other men. I won’t do it.”

“You can handle the other men, methinks.” But then Godfrey nodded, looking more serious. “I understand your concerns, Conn. But I need you. You are the best warrior and strategist in Tuscany. This is not a fancy for Matilda. She is deadly serious about her training. It is of the utmost importance that she be as prepared as possible in terms of real war. I cannot lose her on the battlefield because she is ill-equipped to survive. It would destroy her mother, it would imperil the future of Tuscany…and it would kill me as well.”

Conn grunted, shoving the knife into his belt as he did so. Godfrey placed a friendly hand on the warrior’s shoulder.

“Incidentally, this is a high-paid commission. And if that is not enough to sway you, think of it this way.” Godfrey was fully prepared to use all his wits to garner Conn’s acquiescence, in this case playing to the love of his Celtic heritage. “When Matilda is the most legendary warrior queen who ever lived, you will be remembered as the great man who trained her.”

He had him. The promise of both wealth and legendary honor was too much for a man of such heritage. Godfrey could see in the big Celt’s eyes that he was actually relishing the idea. He closed the deal.