Chapter Eighty-six

 

 

Oh, Conrad!

 

 

As Odo made his way to Canossa to greet Queen Adelheid, Tristan struck further north to meet Conrad.

“Ah, Excellency,” he said, kneeling before the German royal and kissing his ring, “I barely recognize you.” And indeed, all trace of boyishness had vanished in Conrad since Tristan’s last visit, and he had taken on the robust features of a confident young man entering his prime. “And imagine my delight when I learned from Handel of your request that I come with all speed to your court here in the Po Valley.”

“It has been on my mind for some time now, actually,” replied Conrad. “Come,” he said, turning and stepping off at a brisk pace, “I wish to speak to you alone.”

Tristan followed him into a private chamber, still somewhat uncertain about the purpose of his visit. He then noticed that Conrad, closing the door, carefully secured the lock. Furthermore, Tristan thought it unusual that the hawkish Archbishop Tedald was nowhere to be seen, and this prompted Tristan to inquire about him.

“I did not see Archbishop Tedald when I arrived. Is he away?”

“Yes,” said Conrad, “permanently.”

“Pardon?”

“I came to the conclusion some time ago that Tedald, despite all that he has done for me since childhood, is no longer looking out for my interests, nor my heavenly salvation, Brother Tristan. He was once a devout cleric, but politics have overcome his piety, unfortunately, and I have dismissed him.”

“I see,” said Tristan, surprised. “Excellency, did your father not object to this?”

“Ah, my father,” sighed Conrad. “Well, you see, I have likewise dismissed my father.”

“What?”

“Yes, when you last visited years ago I spoke to you of my objections to his behavior. Despite my prayers, he has not improved which brings me to the purpose of our visit. In several days I shall formally denounce my father.”

If Tristan had been surprised by Conrad’s first remarks, this final comment sent him into a state of shock. “I see…” he stammered, though he did not comprehend a thing.

“I suppose you know by now,” Conrad continued, “that my father’s wife, Adelheid, has gone over to Mathilda’s camp?”

“Yes.”

“She had spoken to me of that possibility several times this past year, and I pledged my full support should she actually decide to do such a thing due to my father’s growing depravity and attraction to sin. The horrors he has forced her to endure are unconscionable in the eyes of decent men, and more importantly, in the eyes of God. Are you aware of what I am speaking of, Brother Tristan?”

“No, Excellency, I am not privy to any information other than her actual flight from Verona. I know nothing of her motivation to leave your father, but please know that Pope Urban has gone to meet her at Canossa.”

“Well then, I am certain that the Holy Father shall inform you of the details soon enough. In any case, I wish to corroborate all charges she shall soon file against my father… for they are true. It is my hope that Pope Urban sees fit to grant her a divorce, and please know that I therefore offer myself as a witness to her claims during the formal proceedings that shall surely arise. More importantly, please notify la Gran Contessa Mathilda that I intend to declare war against my father, marching against Milan within the week.”

“Milan? But that is the site of your father’s court in Italy and the German royalist seat of power and author.”

“Yes, of course,” interrupted Conrad, “which is why I shall seize possession of it. I was given the titular crown of Italy some years ago by my father, but have been king only in name. I intend to be a king of Italy in fact. Many of my father’s troops are absent from Milan due to the offensive against Canossa, so now is the time to strike. Furthermore, I have been in communication with the Lombard League and have received their pledge of support as well as command of their militias.”

“The Lombard League? All members?”

“Yes… Milan, Lodi, Piacenza, and Cremona. They, despite long years of allegiance to my father, have grown weary of his abuses of the city-states. I know la Gran Contessa Mathilda has been carrying on this fight alone for years here in Italy, but tell her that she now has new allies, and that we intend to help her drive my father from Italy for good.”

“Yes, certainly,” Tristan replied, flushing with the realization that heavenly intervention had somehow delivered the Gregorian cause on the very eve of their own capitulation. “I have prayed for such a turn of events,” he said, as though talking to himself, “and that you would find the courage to stand up to your father.”

“Yes, I have prayed on the matter also,” said Conrad. “Now let us pray we can win.”