Sometimes Chlothar’s face appeared in her dreams – his piercing black eyes, his long hair, his fearsome rage at his own brother. She knew she belonged to him, every bit as much as a slave; yet she was being treated as a princess. “I have not seen the King,” she told Elias. “Yet he has housed me well and seen to my education. What do you think he wants from me, Father? Do you think he means to make me his daughter?”

The priest stiffened and looked away. Finally, he said, haltingly, “I cannot say what he intends for you.” She did not pursue the question; by the time she would learn the answer, her life was already about to change.

Father Elias went on. “No doubt, Chlothar will call for you in time. He has much to do, at Soissons and beyond. But I believe he will send you one of his wives.”

“Does he have many?”

“Two, for now. But who can say?”

“How many may a Christian take?”

Father Elias took a deep breath. “Adam had only Eve. And the Church says a man may only have one.” He swallowed, weighing his words. “The King is a Catholic. But he is also a Frank, a Frank who would show his power.” He looked gently into Hrotgund’s eyes. “The Church is still young among the Franks. Sometimes it must be patient. After all, his own father was born a pagan.”

Hrotgund saw that the subject made him uncomfortable, so she changed it. “What kind of man was his father?”

“Clovis? Like his sons, like his own father, a son of Merovech. Or so it is said. They also say Merovech was a sea creature, with bristles on his back like a swine. So the family line is lost in legends, until Childeric, who was Chlothar’s grandfather. Perhaps you know his name?”

“No. How should I, Father?”

“He spent some years among your people when the Franks drove him away after he…” Elias stopped. “Because he did not behave as a man should with other men’s daughters. And so the king of the Thuringii, very long ago, took him in until, after eight years, he could return. But when he did, he took your queen with him.” He paused. “Thus does a son of Merovech repay hospitality.” Hrotgund, who had witnessed betrayal since her youngest days, said nothing. “It was by the Thuringii queen that Childeric had Clovis, whose sons were to share all of Gaul. And so you see, the sons of Merovech are now your cousins.”

This meant little to Hrotgund, who knew her uncle had killed both his brothers and that Theuderic had tried to kill Chlothar. As young as she was, she had already learned that, when it came to kingdoms, sharing blood was all the more reason to spill it.

“Let me tell you now,” the father went on, “what kind of man was Clovis. For not only must you understand him to understand his sons, it was he who made the Franks masters of Gaul. Before that, when he was still a pagan, he led a raid on a church in Soissons. They took many things of value, but also a vase, worth little in itself, but precious as a relic. The bishop then went to the Franks’ camp and asked only that the vase be returned. Perhaps Clovis knew that one day he would rule over Catholics. Whatever his reason, he agreed. That night, as the Franks divided up their spoils – for all shared equally then – he asked that he be allowed to take that one object, beyond his share. But one warrior – very likely he was drunk – grew angry, shouting, ‘You will take your fair share, like anyone else!’. And then – he smashed the vase!”

Hrotgund had seen warriors like that among the Thuringii, especially after too much drink.

“Clovis said nothing. But when the month of Mars came, and he ordered his troops to line up for review, he stopped before this warrior and began to berate him. ‘Look at your spear! Look at your helmet!’ And he knocked both to the ground. As the man bent to pick them up, Clovis took his scramasax and split his head in half. You know how little the Franks fear; but now the others shook in terror, seeing what he had done.”

Hrotgund again saw her aunt’s split head, and shuddered.

“Such are the sons of Merovech. One does well not to anger them.”

And Hrotgund thought of the Thuringii, who had paid so high a price for betraying the Franks. “I have seen Theuderic,” she said. “Who are Chlothar’s other brothers?”

“Chlodomir and Childebert. When Clovis died, they all divided Gaul. Theuderic rules Oster-rick, which we call in Latin “Austrasia”. Chlothar rules the other part of the north, the kingdom of Soissons. Chlodomir, who died, ruled the kingdom of Orleans; Childebert, Paris, where his father is buried now, beside the holy St. Genovefa.”

“The woman who saved Paris, all by herself?”

He smiled. “The same. And now she shares a tomb with the son of the man she defied to save her city. She would have rejoiced to see the Franks made Christian. But they remain Franks just the same.”

Hrotgund was thoughtful. “And the Romans, Father?”

“The Romans? What of them?”

“I know they come from a city in the south, that they once persecuted Christians, that they built this villa and the roads of stone and many other marvels, and that once they had something called an ‘Empire’, a kind of kingdom that ruled the world. But what happened to them? What happened to Rome? What happened to the Empire? Has it all disappeared?”

Elias laughed heartily. “Oh no, child! Not at all. Rome still exists, the Empire still exists. Though the Goths sacked Rome long before Clovis conquered Gaul, the city survives and a Senate still sits there today. But the city has no power. The Emperor, Justinian, is now in Constantinople, and from there he rules the Empire.”

“Except for Gaul?”

“Ah! That is too great a question for so humble a priest.”

Samuel -->