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The Plot

Dieter had lived in Köln for almost a year, working with a cadre of young noblemen supported by journeymen and apprentices. He’d even purchased a substantial house in an effort to convince his co-conspirators of his commitment. The news from Lothair was discouraging. Defeated by Heinrich’s army, the duke had been sentenced to death, then reprieved and pardoned after swearing allegiance to the emperor.

But Dieter’s faith in him never wavered and he urged the continuation of the resistance when Lothair’s sincerity was questioned.

Now, at long last, the rebels had gathered in the library of Dieter’s home to discuss final details of a plot he’d suggested weeks before to break Heinrich’s blockade of the Rhine. Without access to the mighty river, the town’s prosperity was collapsing. Thirsting for freedom from the empire, incensed by the destruction of Bonn and Julich, and resentful of the Anglo-Norman child who had been crowned empress, they finally accepted Dieter’s proposal. They planned to kidnap Matilda and ransom her in exchange for their town’s freedom. They would make their way to the smaller court of Trier, overpower Matilda’s guards and spirit her away.

The tension in the library thrummed in Dieter’s veins. As the men chosen for the task prepared to leave on their mission, a prominent nobleman approached him. “Can we trust Lothair to back us?”

Dieter owed allegiance to his duke, but he had to be evasive. There was much he could not reveal to Magnus Braunschweig about his overlord without risking Lothair’s life. “He’s been fortunate in expanding his own lands through inheritance.”

Magnus eyed him suspiciously. “I know you are his man, Dieter. It was he who made you Graf when he extended his authority into the north and west. But isn’t he in the emperor’s pocket now?”

Lothair had effectively transformed himself into the head of a Saxon nation, but Dieter knew his plan was to be perceived as a supporter of Heinrich—the prodigal who had seen the error of his ways. He was, in fact, incensed by further heavy taxes imposed by the emperor. Dieter was ambitious and saw great benefit in being of service to his duke. It was one of the reasons he had bowed to Lothair’s request to leave his home in Saxony and come to Köln. The clandestine nature of his activities on the duke’s behalf appealed to his darker side. It had been relatively easy to scheme his way into a position of trust among the disaffected citizens.

The decision to leave Wolfenberg had been difficult. His home was filled with bitter memories of a loveless marriage. But his son was there, in the care of his grandfather, Marius. Johann was the one good thing to come from the terrifying years of his wife’s erratic behavior. Madness had eventually driven her to take her own life. Now, his son was motherless, but that was preferable to the future he would have had at Fredericka’s hands.

Johann was a bright, happy boy who exhibited no outward signs of his demented mother’s lunacy, though Fredericka had seemed sane when she and Dieter were betrothed as children. If he were to marry again, he’d choose someone like Blythe FitzRam. He scarcely knew her, yet she haunted his dreams and was never far from his thoughts. It was foolish to hope he might catch a glimpse of her in Trier.

It came to him as he wrestled with his memories that several of the conspirators had drawn close, anxious to hear his reply to Magnus’ question. It was imperative he get his mind back on the business at hand. He must consider his words carefully. “We owe the duke our fealty and I trust his judgement. In any case, this endeavor is our plot, not the duke’s. It falls to us to free Köln from the blockade.”

A few nodded, others mumbled; Magnus remained silent. However, most seemed satisfied and anxious to embark on the mission. He breathed more easily. The sooner Köln was freed from the emperor’s domination, the sooner he could return to Wolfenberg.

He and a score of handpicked men left the city under cover of darkness. Clad in the black tunic, hauberk, leggings and boots he typically favored, he had left off the long white cloak he often fastened to his shoulders. It would draw too much attention and hamper his movements. The scabbard and hilt of his sword were black. His jet-black hair and swarthy complexion would aid his invisibility in the dark.

They completed the two-day ride to Trier and passed through the enormous Porta Nigra gates at dusk without challenge, much to their surprised relief. “Heinrich is so preoccupied with Köln he leaves his future bride unprotected,” Dieter observed to Magnus.

“He thinks she is safely tucked away in this ancient place,” Magnus observed, looking up at the monastery church of Saint Simeon built atop the gate. “Hard to fathom the sandstone blocks are held together with just iron pegs.”

“Ja,” Dieter agreed. “To take Matilda in the monastery will be nigh on impossible. Spies tell us she attends morning mass in the nearby cathedral. Our best chance is to seize her then.”

After attending morning mass, they spent two days in the town meeting with merchants on the pretext of investigating future trade. Despite his best intentions to concentrate on the mission, Dieter hoped to see Blythe among the throng surrounding Matilda as she entered the private chapel. However, the empress was accompanied by an elderly woman and the two younger ladies he remembered from Utrecht. Deeply disappointed, he assumed Blythe had gone back to her family in England.

On the second evening, two of the rebels stayed with the horses in a nearby copse. The rest stole into the unguarded church under cover of darkness and settled in to wait.

Dieter rehearsed over and over in his mind the details of how the risky abduction would proceed. Nervous dread and anticipation warred within him. Arms folded, he dozed intermittently, waiting impatiently for dawn, leaving his station only occasionally to prod a snoring comrade.

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