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Rosvita glanced toward the other princesses, Henry’s daughters. Sapientia was, of a mercy, behaving circumspectly today, holding her temper, her tongue, and her enthusiasm in check. She sat as still as she was able and watched the proceedings with a dark and avid gaze, as if soaking it in, as if playing herself in the role of queen. The pool of stillness that surrounded Theophanu was of a colder kind; she had no expression on her face, nor did she react when each judgment was passed. Even young Ekkehard, who half the time looked as if he was about to fall asleep, had jumped and murmured in surprise at the clemency Henry had shown to Duke Rodulf’s heirs. Next to these three handsome and robust children, Tallia was a colorless bloom, lost in the glare of her mother’s ambitions.
“I have nothing to say,” said Sabella.
Henry’s wrath was evident though he did not lose himself now to his anger. “You have conspired against the rightful king of Wendar and Varre, anointed by the hand of the skopos, named by our father, Arnulf, as his heir, confirmed as such by the great princes of the realm. This is treason, and the punishment for treason is death.”
A gasp from the multitudes, quickly stifled. Every soul crowded into the hall strained forward. The air itself seemed not to breathe or to allow for any breath, for even the rise and fall of a single chest might stain the clarity of sight and hearing that reigned within the hall.
“But we are kin, and you wear the gold torque of the royal house.” Henry did not touch the one he wore at his neck, but Sabella—as if involuntarily—reached up to touch hers. “I will not stain my hands, nor the hands of my children, with the blood of my kin. But this I will do. This judgment I will pass.”
He rose.
“Your child, Tallia, I take as my ward and remove to my custody. Your husband, Berengar, duke of Arconia, I judge unfit to rule, and I strip from him his rank as duke. He will retire to Hetsford Monastery, where the holy brothers will care for him as is fitting. And you, Sabella—”
No one moved. No one spoke.
“From you also I strip the title of duchess, and from your heir I take this title, for all time. The duchy of Arconia is without a duke, and so it comes to me to dispose of this title and the authority it grants. I give it now into the hands of my sister, Constance, Biscop of Autun, and you I give into her custody, as you once held her unwillingly in yours.”
The crowd could no longer restrain its astonishment. They burst into a haze of noise so loud Rosvita could scarely hear herself think. Sapientia, echoing the crowd, leaped to her feet and a moment later, sheepishly, with her brother tugging on her sleeve, seated herself. Theophanu had not stirred, but she had a thin smile on her face.
Sabella said nothing, showed nothing except a deadly and bitter anger, but there was nothing she could do. She had gambled and she had lost. Duke—no longer duke!— Berengar was blowing his nose onto his sleeve, and at once his servingmen led him away. Poor man. He would be better taken care of in the monastery, Rosvita supposed. Tallia was crying. Tears made her fair skin blotchy and her nose red. Sabella turned and snapped angry words at her daughter, but it was too noisy for Rosvita to make them out.
What a great roar of sound there was in the hall, shouts of “Henry! King Henry!” and others, acclaiming Constance as duke and biscop—an unprecedented act, to combine the two titles in one person. But Constance was being rewarded, of course, for her constancy. And the people of Autun were clearly happy about it; they loved their biscop.
Except Rosvita could not understand why she heard the sound of hounds barking so loudly and a sudden edge to the ovation of the crowd.
“Clear the way!” someone cried.
“Out of the way!” shrieked a woman.
“Lord protect us! Devil’s spawn!”
Quickly, guards hustled Sabella and her retinue aside.
Into the hall came a most astounding procession, the last fugitive, the only one unaccounted for after the battle: Count Lavastine and his famous black hounds. With him walked his captain and a finely-dressed youth caught in that twilight between boy and man.
King Henry blinked several times, but that was the only sign he gave of his astonishment. The count walked boldly forward and stopped below the king’s dais. He did not kneel.
“Last year,” said Lavastine, “you sent an Eagle to request my presence on your progress. I have come.” This was so brash that Henry almost laughed. But the situation was too grave for laughter.
“It is late, and the summons was long ago,” said Henry, “and you rode all this way in strange company, Count Lavastine.”
“So I did, Your Majesty, but not of my own will. I have witnesses to prove that another’s hand controlled me and that I did not march with Lady Sabella because I wished to, but because I was compelled to.”
“It is a good excuse, Count Lavastine. Indeed, an elaborate and cunning one, now that Biscop Antonia has already been accused of other condemned acts of sorcery.”
These words were spoken so harshly that Rosvita expected Lavastine to respond in kind, but for once he restrained his famous irritability. “I will give sworn testimony before your clerics,” said the count. “I have others who will bear witness in my favor including, I hope, my kinsman Lord Geoffrey, whom I treated very badly while under this compulsion.”
“Your testimony will be sent south with the party who accompanies Biscop Antonia to the skopos,” said Henry. “But I will tell you truly, Count Lavastine, that I know you withdrew your forces from the field of battle while the tide still flowed in Sabella’s favor. This will tell in your favor, when I come to pass judgment on you. But tell me, we all thought you had escaped. Why do you come before us now? I know you have no love for me.”
“I am not a conspirator, Your Majesty, and I intend to clear myself of these charges. I have nothing to hide. But I do have a boon to ask of you.”
“Ah,” said Henry.
“Ah,” whispered Theophanu, her mouth parting slightly as she leaned forward, intent now.
“He wants something,” murmured Sapientia wisely to Ekkehard. “That is why he has come here now when he could have escaped back to his own lands.”
“Hush,” said Constance.
