Free Almodis by Tracey Warr Page B

just said to them, “And who made you kings?”’ Father, Audebert and I laugh heartily at our ancestor’s famous quip. ‘Who made you kings?’ Father repeats, louder.
    Hugh is not laughing. ‘But might not a unification of north and south under the Capetian king bring us peace,’ he says, ‘and put an end to this constant rivalry between the southern lords?’
    Father stops laughing.
    ‘Unification!’ splutters Audebert, too infuriated to be polite. ‘Don’t be stupid, man. The North is another country with its own tongue and culture. There is no possibility of unification. That would only be the death and the end of us: the South, Langue d’Oc, Occitania! When the Moors captured Barcelona, Hugh Capet showed his colours and refused to give the city any assistance . The counts of Barcelona and Auvergne have refused to acknowledge the authority of the Capetians and rightly so.’
    Hugh is silent again, and mother skilfully turns the talk towards less controversial topics. The rest of the feast passes in friendly but dull talk of the foundation of new abbeys and monasteries in the region. Hugh is more animated on this topic. What need of a peaceweaver if my husband is already such a man of peace?

9
May 1038
    I am stepping into the Abbey of Saint Martial in Limoges and a sudden silence descends on the crowd of large men clad in dark leather that I see ahead of me, looking incongruous against the loops of fragile May flowers adorning the church. My usual confidence deserts me. I feel tiny in this soaring stone vault. I imagine that I am sitting on one of the huge beams far overhead looking down on my miniscule, distant self, weighed down in this heavy wedding dress, stared at by strangers.
    If I had to speak right now nothing would emerge from my mouth. I try to swallow down the gag that seems to be filling my throat. Goosebumps rise on my arms and legs as I contemplate the necessity of walking alone up this long aisle to be wed. I scan the faces of these men looking for the one I know: my brother, Audebert.
    ‘Ah, and here is the bride,’ my brother’s voice identifies his position.
    I swallow down the fear in my throat and look in his direction. Eudes, the new Duke of Aquitaine, stands next to Audebert smiling at me. Both my father and my uncle Guillaume died a few months ago so that everything familiar is now strange. I feel angry with myself for this sudden and ridiculous timidity. Why should I, Almodis of La Marche, feel timid and small. What can I be afraid of? When I spoke of my coming marriage at home, when my father was still alive, it seemed like a good game and I was in control of it but now it is a concrete reality. I must have this man,Hugh, in my bed, in my body. I will have to render my marriage debt to him and I will have to give birth to his children. I know that in time I will make a fine new game of all this too but for now I am miserable at the loss of my mountain home and, above all, the loss of my sister, like a limb hacked off, a raw absence at my side.
    Audebert and Eudes, these young untried men are the rulers now. I know that my marriage will make important bonds in this new regime between La Marche, Aquitaine and Lusignan. I know that by marrying this man, Hugh, I will seem to please them all but I will please myself. I will make my family safe in La Marche. How far away home is. How strange and cold is this vast church. I see boys swinging censors on long chains. I hear the burr of a bird’s wings high up in the roof.
    I find a way to force myself forward. I focus on Eudes, holding his gaze, lift my stiff skirts with one hand and walk straight ahead to stand in front of him, not thinking about or looking at the others . I know that if I glance to either side or do anything other than fixate on the duke I will turn and bolt back out of the door behind me, that I will run to the stables, leap onto my horse and ride out of this place at a gallop. I am wondering if I can do it. Could I? I