Theresa laughed. Her father spoke so highly of her that she would redden with embarrassment.
“Three years ago,” Hoos continued, “as fortune would have it I did well in one of the military campaigns undertaken by Charlemagne. The news reached him, and on my return, he offered me the chance to swear an oath. Which many see as a great privilege.”
“And what does that mean?”
“Well, to put it simply, it means being a vassal of the king. A trusted soldier. Someone to turn to at any time.”
“A soldier? Like those of the praefectus of Würzburg?”
“Not exactly,” he laughed. “Those men are poor devils who have to obey orders without so much as a murmur for a paltry day’s pay. But I have my own land.”
“I didn’t think soldiers owned land,” she said with surprise.
“Let me see if I can explain. When the king takes your oath, you pledge to serve him loyally, but the oath establishes a mutual agreement which the king usually honors generously. I received twenty arpents of farmland, another fifteen of vines, and forty more of uncultivated land that I will soon begin to plough, so in reality, my life is not so different to that of a comfortable landowner.”
“And on top of that, you must go to war.”
“That’s right. Though generally the levies only go into combat when summer arrives, after the harvest. That’s when I get my gear ready, summon those who will accompany me on the campaign, and respond to the king’s call to arms.”
“And you have serfs, too?” she asked with surprise.
“No, not serfs. Tenant farmers, freedmen, or mancipia, call them what you will, but they are not serfs. They are free men, numbering twenty or so, including men and women. Obviously, I could not work the land alone. Fortunately, Aquis-Granum is overrun with dispossessed folks from every corner of the kingdom: Aquitanians, Neustrians, Austrasians, and Lombards… They come to the court believing they will make their fortune and end up destitute, begging for a crust of bread to ease their hunger. With so many, all you have to do is use your best judgment determining who to lease the land to.”
“So, you’re rich?”
“Good Lord, no. I wish!” he laughed. “The tenant farmers are humble folks. As payment for their use of the land, they give me part of the harvest, plus certain weekly corvées: you know, clearing paths, repairing fences and such. Sometimes they help me plough the lands that I keep for my own use, but as I was saying, it’s not much compensation. My wealth is not even close to that of a king’s antrustion.”
“Tell me, Hoos, is Aquis-Granum as beautiful as they say?”
“It certainly is! As beautiful as a great bazaar to anyone with enough denarii. I can tell you that on just one street in Aquis-Granum there are more people crowded together than in all Würzburg. So many people that you will lose yourself among them. At each step there are traders selling meat or harnessing buckles or stews. Beside them stalls are filled with fabrics and silk, and pressed between these—where there is barely space for a rug—you’ll find merchants offering everything from jars of honey to a still-bloody swords.”
He told her how the streets wind their way round like a tangle of old threads woven by trembling hands, intertwining a mesh of hovels, taverns, and brothels; how crowds would gather in small squares with countless nooks and crannies, where pickpockets and cripples competed with drunks, outsiders, and animals—all looking for the best place to do their business; and about how all the alleys finally converge upon a boulevard that a mounted regiment could ride along. At the end of this avenue, beside the great basilica, an imposing black brick building stands majestically: King Charlemagne’s palace.
Theresa was spellbound. For a moment she thought she was seeing far-off Constantinople.
“And are there games, a forum, a circus?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like in Byzantium: buildings of marble, paved avenues, gardens and fountains, theatres, libraries…”
Hoos raised an eyebrow. He thought Theresa was joking. He told her places like that only existed in fables.
“You’re wrong,” she answered, slightly put out and stood up, turning away. She did not care whether Aquis-Granum had gardens with fountains, but it hurt that Hoos should doubt her word.
“You should see Constantinople,” she added. “I remember the Hagia Sofia, a cathedral like you couldn’t imagine. So tall and wide you could fit a mountain inside it. Or Constantine’s hippodrome, two stadia in length, where games and chariot racing took place every month. I remember walking along Theodosius’s walls.” Her eyes lit up. “Stone defenses that could withstand the onslaught of any army. The illuminated fountains, making water sprout from the ground. The magnificent imperial parades with endless legions of troops led by columns of exquisitely festooned elephants… yes, you should see Constantinople. Then you will know what paradise is like.”
Hoos’s mouth gaped. Though it was nothing but fantasy, he admired the girl’s prodigious imagination. “Naturally I would like to see paradise,” he said to her mockingly, “but I don’t wish to die so soon. By the way… what are chariots?”
“They’re carriages pulled by several horses. But not like the ones to which oxen are yoked. They’re smaller and lighter and fast as the wind.”
“Aha! Like wind, eh? And elephants?”
“Oh, elephants! You should see them,” she laughed. “They’re animals as huge as houses, with skin so hard it stops arrows. They have legs as thick as tree trunks and two giant tusks thrust out from their mouths that they wield like lances when they charge. Under their eyes sways a nose like a great snake.” She smiled at Hoos’s disbelief. “And yet, despite their fierce appearance, they obey their masters—and mounted by six riders they become as docile as a pony.”
Hoos tried to contain his mirth, but before long he burst out laughing. “Well, that’s enough for today. We should get some rest. Tomorrow we have a trek to Würzburg,” he said.
“So what’s the reason for your visit?” Theresa asked, choosing to ignore him.
“Go to sleep.”
“It’s just that I don’t want to go back to Würzburg.”
“You don’t? So what do you intend to do? Wait here for more Saxons to arrive?”
“No, of course not.” Her expression darkened.
“So stop talking nonsense and get some sleep. I don’t want to have to pull you along tomorrow.”
“You haven’t answered me yet,” she insisted.
Hoos, who had already settled down by the fire, sat up annoyed.
“Two ships loaded with food are soon to leave Frankfurt for Würzburg. Two important people will travel on them. The king wishes them to be received in accord with their rank, which is why he sent me as an emissary.”
“But will they come even now, with the storms?”