Tim Severin - The Book of Dreams

‘As I do. . overly confined. Mind you, they have their own ways of compensating.’

With that ambiguous remark, we had arrived at the colonnaded porch of the red-tiled building. There was a faint smell I could not identify. It reminded me vaguely of rotten eggs. I followed Hroudland across the porch, through a small entrance hall, and then into the centre of the building. The sight before me was so unexpected that I came to a sudden halt. There was no roof. The building was open to the air, designed to enclose a large expanse of grey-green, opaque water. All of a sudden I knew what the smell had reminded me of. It was the rotting stench of the bubbles which had risen from stagnant water when we pulled my brother’s drowned corpse from the pond. The same smell had clung to his slimed clothes as we laid him out on the bank.

Hroudland was regarding me with concern.

‘Are you alright, Patch? You look as if you’re about to faint.’

I shook my head.

‘I’ll be fine,’ I assured him.

‘The thermae, the royal baths,’ Hroudland announced, ‘and the main reason why my uncle chose to build his palace here.’ He crossed to the edge of the water and dipped his hand into what I now realized was a tiled pool. ‘See for yourself, Patch. The water emerges from the ground already warm.’

I forced myself to crouch at the rim of the pool and touch the sinister surface of the water. It was warm, almost hot.

Hroudland began taking off his clothes.

‘My uncle suffers from aches and pains in his joints. He spends hours in the water. It does him good. He’s even been known to conduct a session of the Council, half-immersed.’

I straightened up and stepped back. My fear of water had returned as strongly as ever. The evil smell only increased my revulsion.

‘Come on, Patch!’ Hroudland chided me. ‘It doesn’t matter if you can’t swim. The water’s not deep.’

‘I’m sorry. I can’t,’ I mumbled.

Hroudland was naked now except for his undershirt, open at the neck. He had the sculpted muscles and slim legs of an athlete. ‘Nonsense. I’ll see that you don’t drown.’ He made a playful lunge and grabbed me by the wrist as if to pull me closer into the pool.

Panicked, I wrenched away my arm and stumbled backward to escape. Not seeing where I was going, I reeled into Berenger, Oton and the others just entering the bathhouse. Berenger gave me an odd look as I blundered my way past them, across the entrance hall and out into the open. Only then did I stop as I fought to catch my breath and ignore the tainted air.

A couple of hours later Osric found me among the half-finished palace buildings where I was watching a master carpenter scarf together two oak beams for a roof timber. By then I had regained my composure.

‘Count Hroudland told me to bring you to the royal stables. He’ll help you select a suitable war horse,’ he said.

‘Count Hroudland?’ I asked.

‘His title. He’s waiting for the king to assign him a region to govern.’

‘You seem to be well informed.’

Osric glanced around, making sure that we were alone.

‘One of the paladins’ servants is curious about you. He asked whether you had ever been at King Offa’s court.’

I felt a prickle of unease.

‘What did you tell him?’

‘I didn’t answer him directly. He told me that he had once been to England with his master, Gerin.’

I thought it strange that Gerin had said nothing when I mentioned Offa’s name the previous evening. But, on reflection, I remembered that Gerin had played no part in the conversation. He was not someone who seemed like he’d volunteer much information about himself. Still, I wondered what he had been doing at Offa’s court.

‘Osric, see if you can find out more. If Gerin is King Offa’s agent, it will affect our future here in Aachen.’

‘I’ll do my best. I think the servant mainly wanted to boast about how widely he had travelled.’

As I looked into Osric’s lean, dark face with its expression of watchful intelligence, it occurred to me how much our relationship had changed in the days since Offa had sent me into exile.

‘Osric, I’ve never thanked you properly for dealing with those treacherous pirates on the cog,’ I said.

‘Those cut-throats would have sold me on,’ he replied quietly. ‘I would rather continue to serve a master I know.’

‘That’s not what I mean. I’d prefer not to treat you as before, as if nothing had happened.’

He gave a small, eloquent shrug.

‘You have no choice. Here at court everyone expects there to be a great distance between master and slave. If it were otherwise, people would be suspicious.’

‘Yet without your help I doubt I will survive the court’s dangers,’ I said.

His voice kept its level, rational tone.

‘That is why we must keep a distance between us, at least for others to see. Servants and slaves always gossip among themselves, and I’ll be more useful to you if I am accepted as no different from the rest, and keep my ears open.’

Reluctantly I had to agree with his reasoning.

‘What do you think of Count Hroudland?’ I asked.

‘He has the qualities and failings of someone born to high privilege. He’s self-confident and decisive, but that makes him high-handed and he is not easily deflected from what he wants.’

‘Should I trust him?’ I asked.

Osric paused while he considered his reply.

‘I think so. He has a sense of honour.’ Then he added, ‘And he will not take kindly if we keep him waiting.’

Hroudland met us at the stables.

‘I’m sorry about the prank this morning. There was nothing I could do to stop it,’ he said briskly.

He led me along the double row of stalls until we came to a stocky bay gelding standing looking out at us and placidly chewing a wisp of hay.

‘Here’s the ideal animal for you, Patch. Eight years old, calm and steady, yet with enough spirit for the front rank of a charge.’

The horse stretched out its head, snuffling my scent and allowing me to stroke its velvety nose.

‘I appreciate your advice. I just need to learn to ride properly,’ I said guardedly, for I was puzzled why the count was showing such concern for me.

My face must have revealed my caution, for he said quietly, ‘Also, about what happened at the baths this afternoon, I apologize if I alarmed you.’

‘It’s nothing I want to talk about,’ I replied stiffly, feeling clumsy and ungracious even as I said it.

The count, clearly not a person who allowed a moment’s awkwardness to deflect him, pressed on.

‘Now you’ve got a war horse, you’ll need weapons to go with it. I’ve arranged with the seneschal to collect whatever we require from the royal armoury. He’s sending a clerk to meet us there, so let’s go before he changes his mind.’

We set out across the palace grounds, striding at such a rapid pace that Osric with his lameness had difficulty in keeping up with us.

‘The king is being very generous to me,’ I said.

‘Think nothing of it. He owns vast estates, and his tenants supply all that his household requires.’

I recalled the shipment of live eels hauled for hundreds of miles across country.

‘Even swords and armour?’

‘Especially swords and armour, and the soldiers to go with them,’ said Hroudland firmly. ‘When my uncle launches a campaign, everyone is obliged to contribute to his armed host, whether he’s a count or abbot or a lowly freeman with just a cottage and two cows.’

‘That must take a lot of organization.’ I had been wondering how the Franks came to dominate less purposeful nations.

The count was dismissive.

‘A swarm of inky clerks keep endless lists of everything from beds and mattresses to spare sets of harness and carts. The chief nobles are obliged to hold stockpiles of material whether it’s barrels of wine or bundles of firewood.’