Showing posts with label The Cross and the Dragon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Cross and the Dragon. Show all posts

10 May 2016

My Characters Lived in Charlemagne's Empire

By Kim Rendfeld

In Charlemagne's day, the monarch's personal life and politics were intertwined, and too many heirs presented a problem. God had a hand in everything, but magic was still very much a part of life.

Such are the societal complexities and contradictions that have me hooked on eighth century Francia enough to write two novels and be working on a third. Whole books have been written about Carolingian Francia. In the limits of a blog post, I can provide only a flavor of it.

When Charlemagne died in 814, the empire comprised today's France, Germany, Holland, Belgium, Luxembourg, Switzerland, Austria, and parts of Hungary and Italy. Much of the land was forested, and travel was slow—armies moved 12 to 15 miles a day.

With that reality, a count, bishop, abbot, or abbess were rulers of their own lands and acted independently. Charles could rule only if he secured alliances throughout his realm, and he rewarded loyal clerics by appointing them masters of church lands.

Marriage, Family, and Politics

Louis the Pious (Ludwik I Pobozny)
The need for political alliances affected whom Charles married. Ironically, a peasant family had more flexibility. Their first consideration might be whether the suitor would make a good husband and father, and the bride's sentiments might have made more of an impact.

For Charles, the stakes were higher, and politics trumped affection. His father picked out his first wife.  The queen had an important role beyond bearing sons. She managed her husband's household and controlled access to him. When houseguests were foreign emissaries, what they got for dinner had international implications. If her husband died, she could rule as regent until her son reached his majority.

Charles set aside two wives to free himself of other political marriages, but he would learn that spurning women had national and international consequences. After divorcing his second wife, he was literally at war in 773-74 with his ex-father-in-law, the king of the Lombards, over who would inherit the kingdom of Charles's late brother. Charles won, but after many months of holding siege. In 792, his first ex-wife or her family might have been involved with eldest son Pepin's rebellion.

Charles was a steadfast husband to his last three wives, but all of those marriages had political underpinnings. When he married Hildegard (spouse No. 3), he was from a powerful family, but his father had taken the crown in a coup. Hildegard was the one with the higher pedigree. As an Agilolfing, she was related to the rulers of Bavaria and came from one of the great and most established families in the realm.

Months after Hildegard died in 783, Charles married Fastrada to secure his alliances on the eastern part of the realm, which he needed during his ongoing wars with the Saxons. Their marriage lasted until her death in 794.

He married a fifth and final time in 794 or 796 to Luitgard, and he might have chosen her because he was fond of her and was certain she couldn't have children. Charles had three grown heirs already, and following Frankish custom, each one expected a kingdom. Charles's plan was that Young Charles would rule the bulk of Francia while Louis inherited Aquitaine and another son named Pepin got Italy. If Charles wanted his empire to stay intact, he would not want any more sons born in wedlock.

After Luitgard's death in 800, he had mistresses and begat more children, including boys. Having the concubines proved his virility, a sign of physical perfection and his worthiness to rule. Deformities and other physical imperfections were believed to be God's curse.

Christian Beliefs and Magic

Stuttgart Psalter
Charles and his Frankish subjects believed in the power of prayer. The siege in Lombardy ended after Charles traveled to Rome to visit the pope. Before the war with the Avars in 791, priests held three days of litanies and the faithful abstained from wine and meat.

Most of the laity did not understand the Latin prayers at Mass, but they believed in divine intervention in daily life. Although marriage was not a sacrament at the time, husband and wife often sought the blessing of a priest. The same God who determined victors in war also could decide whether a couple had children.

If the harvest was bad or someone became ill or disabled, they might believe God was punishing them for a sin and pray to a saint to intervene on their behalf or take it a step further and go on a pilgrimage. Or they might attribute the misfortune to sorcery.

Incantations, charms, and other magical means were ingrained in the society despite the Church's official stand against witchcraft. Desperate parents of a sick child might pray to a saint and give alms, then take the child to the peak of the roof, where herbs were cooked while a spell was recited. Even clerics might ask an expert to interpret their dreams, or a manuscript copied by monks might contain a square to predict the course of an illness with the letters of the patient’s name and the number of the day they got sick.

Eventually, the Church took a different tack and made creative substitutions. Want rain? Don't use an incantation. Say a prayer instead. If you need to recite something while gathering medicinal herbs, try the Pater and the Credo.

I could talk about how Charles try to convert pagans by force with limited success, how slavery was alive and well in this era, how horses and other farm animals were different, how literacy was limited to a select few, how every family likely lost a child before age five, and how art and literature survived despite constant war and disease. But as I said earlier, that would take more than a blog post.

I would never want to live in this time period—I happen to like human rights, instant communication, and modern medicine. But it is more multifaceted and intriguing than what I was taught in school, which is why it continues to fascinate me.

Sources

Carolingian Chronicles, which includes the Royal Frankish Annals and Nithard’s Histories, translated by
Bernard Walter Scholz with Barbara Rogers

Daily Life in the World of Charlemagne, by Pierre Riché, translated by Jo Ann McNamara

Courts, Elites, and Gendered Power in the Early Middle Ages: Charlemagne and Others, Janet L. Nelson
Poetry of the Carolingian Renaissance, edited with an introduction by Peter Godman


Kim Rendfeld is the author of The Cross and the Dragon and The Ashes of Heaven's Pillar, which will soon be reissued. She is working on a third novel, Queen of the Darkest Hour.

22 April 2013

Traitors & Turncoats: Ganelon—the Villain of ‘The Song of Roland’



What would be so despicable that the only justice is to tie the offender’s hands and feet to four stallions, have a mare nearby, and let them tear him apart? On top of that, 30 of his kinsmen are hanged—death by slow strangulation—and a buddy is slain in a duel.

Such is the fate of Ganelon, the villain of The Song of Roland, forever branded a traitor.

First a little context. Believed to have been written in the latter part of the 11th century, The Song of Roland is a medieval form of historical fiction, light on the historical and heavy on the fiction. The anonymous Old French epic says a lot about taking a stand against overwhelming odds, but it departs from the actual events that inspired it.

In reality, the retreating Franks were ambushed in 778 by Christian Basques at the Pass of Roncevaux in the Pyrenees, a defeat so traumatic that no one wrote about it while King Charles (Charlemagne) was alive. (For more, see my prior post on this subject at Unusual Historicals.)

Fast forward three centuries near the time of the first Crusades, and the suddenly, the Muslim Saracens are the enemy. The war has lasted seven years instead of a few months. And now we have a traitor to blame for the defeat, Ganelon. The author might have been inspired to name his villain after Guenelon (also spelled Vénilon), a ninth-century bishop of Sens who crowned Charlemagne’s grandson Charles and later changed his alliance.

Of course, a love-to-hate villain is great for storytelling, but I wonder if the author was trying to convey another message. French forces were superior, so good that only a betrayal would defeat them. Perhaps, the author was drawing a parallel to Jesus, who died because of Judas’s betrayal.

In the poem, our hero, Roland, volunteers his stepfather, Ganelon, to convey the terms of Charlemagne’s treaty with Saracen King Marsil, who has just made an offer for peace. Ganelon is angry—two others guys who tried this were beheaded.

After relaying his emperor’s terms to Marsil, Ganelon reveals how the Saracen can defeat Charlemagne: get rid of Roland. Ganelon instructs Marsil to give Charlemagne gifts and hostages and wait until Charlemagne’s army withdraws, leaving the rearguard behind. Marsil then can attack with overwhelming numbers. Ganelon swears fealty to Marsil and gets treasures.

Roland is appointed to the rear guard at Ganelon’s behest, and sure enough, the Saracens ambush the Frankish rear guard. Roland and his companions fight valiantly, and perhaps the redeeming message of the poem is how the heroes face their certain deaths. After stubbornly refusing to call for help, Roland blows his horn and dies, along with everyone else in the rear guard.

Hearing the call, Ganelon tries to convince Charlemagne that wasn’t Roland’s horn and that there is no battle. But Charlemagne is knows otherwise, and the Franks take revenge. In the meantime, Ganelon is chained and beaten by the kitchen staff and his beard is torn.

And then Ganelon’s story takes an interesting turn. Ganelon doesn’t deny what he did. Instead he shows up in Charlemagne’s presence with 30 of his kinsmen and says that he’s not guilty because he was taking revenge, not committing treason.

Inexplicably, the noblemen at the court are buying this, but not everyone. And so for even more drama, we have a trial by duel between the warrior Thierry and Ganelon’s champion and buddy, Pinabel. Now why would Ganelon, a warrior who has named his sword and rides a charger, need a champion? Was the poet trying to show what a wimp Ganelon was for not fighting his own battles? Given what happened to him after Pinabel is killed in the duel, Ganelon would have been better off taking his chances in a duel.

Ganelon’s reputation as traitor follows him through time, as author Tinney Sue Heath explained on my blog, Outtakes. In the 14th century, Dante envisioned Ganelon in the lowest frozen parts of Hell, not that far away from where Satan gnaws on the traitors Brutus, Cassius, and Judas.

Kim Rendfeld is the author of The Cross and the Dragon, in which Hruodland (Roland) and Ganelon come from two feuding families and are rivals for the heroine, Lady Alda. In Kim’s version of events, Ganelon is not a traitor, but don’t worry, there is still plenty to hate about him. You can learn more about Kim and her fiction at her blog, kimrendfeld.wordpress.com, or website, www.kimrendfeld.com.

19 August 2012

Guest Blog: Kim Rendfeld

This week, we’re welcoming Kim Rendfeld, author of The Cross and the Dragon, a love story set in eighth-century Europe, spanning today’s Switzerland, Germany, France, and Spain. Kim is here to talk about her novel, answering questions from readers. One lucky winner will receive an e-book of The Cross and the Dragon, compatible with Kindle or Nook. Just leave your comment and e-mail address. Here is the blurb:

A tale of love in an era of war and blood feuds.

Francia, 778: Alda has never forgotten Ganelon’s vow of vengeance when she married his rival, Hruodland. Yet the jilted suitor’s malice is nothing compared to Alda’s premonition of disaster for her beloved, battle-scarred husband.

Although the army invading Hispania is the largest ever and King Charles has never lost a war, Alda cannot shake her anxiety. Determined to keep Hruodland from harm, even if it exposes her to danger, Alda gives him a charmed dragon amulet.

Is its magic enough to keep Alda’s worst fears from coming true—and protect her from Ganelon?

Inspired by legend and painstakingly researched, The Cross and the Dragon is a story of tenderness, sacrifice, lies, and revenge in the early years of Charlemagne’s reign.

**Q&A with Kim Rendfeld**

From Diane Denton: How was the idea for your novel born? Obviously, you have an interest in the period, but what moved you to focus on the characters and their story as you did?

Rolandsbogen
(photo by Tohma via Wikimedia Commons
used under the terms of the
GNU Free Documentation License)
The inspiration for The Cross and the Dragon came during a family vacation in Germany, when we stumbled on a story in a guide book about the ruins at Rolandsbogen—an ivy covered arch on a high Rhineland hill. To recount the legend here would be a spoiler, and I elaborate on it in a historical note at the end of the novel. But I will say it’s a love story, in which Roland (a variant of Hruodland) and his bride are separated by a devastating falsehood.

I learned later that the legend itself is not true, yet the lovers’ story would not leave me alone. On the flight back to the States, I wrote about it in my journal, even drew a little sketch of the arch as it appeared from Drachenfels, a mountain (OK technically a high hill) across the Rhine. Still, the story would not rest. Who were these people? Why would someone lie to the bride?

I had to sit down at my computer and find out, but when I started writing, I knew very little about the real Middle Ages, let alone this particular slice of it.

From Sandy Frykholm: I think of the early Middle Ages as a fairly dry period for source material. What variety of sources did you find? Any that particularly surprised you—either in content or the fact that they exist at all?

Four great resources on the Carolingians
(photo by Kim Rendfeld)
The conditions of the period lend themselves to scarcity of information. It predates the printing press, which means books were rare and expensive. The vast majority of the populace could not write and only a few more could read. In addition, there were cultures, like the Saxons, who did not have a written language as we know it.

Fortunately, a few Franks wrote things down, even if it was to serve an agenda. I could not have re-created life in eighth century Europe without the work of scholars who translated primary sources from medieval Latin and analyzed them. (Historical novelist’s disclaimer: any mistakes in my novel are mine and mine alone.) My library includes:

  • Einhard’s The Life of Charlemagne translated by Evelyn Scherabon Firchow and Edwin H. Zeydel, written about 830-33, at least 16 years after King Charles’s death.
  • Carolingian Chronicles, which includes the Royal Frankish Annals and Nithard’s Histories, translated by Bernard Walter Scholz with Barbara Rogers, written by several anonymous authors in the eighth and ninth centuries and one of Charlemagne’s grandsons.
  • P.D. King’s Charlemagne: Translated Sources, a collection of annals, letters, contemporary biographies, capitularies, and more
  • Pierre Riché’s Daily Life in the World of Charlemagne, which describes details of life outside the wars.

Professor King’s book, intended for scholars of Carolingian times, is a treasure trove. The letters are true gems, and I was surprised to find they survived after more than 1,200 years. Among my favorites is a missive from Pope Stephen III, who passionately urges Charles and his brother not to marry the daughter of his enemy. If high school students saw more material like that, they might be more interested in history.

I elaborate more on the four sources mentioned above in a post on my blog, Outtakes, and have listed even more sources on my website.

From Roseanne E. Lortz: How did the epic poem “The Song of Roland” influence you in your writing? Are there elements in the novel that you took from the poem?

Those who are familiar with “The Song of Roland” know him as a hero who bravely fights despite overwhelming odds and stubbornly refuses to use his horn to call for help. The poem also portrays the battle and the brutal justice that follows in gory detail.

I read the poem after I had encountered the love story, and I was moved by Alda’s devotion to Roland. But I like the Rhineland love story better and settled on a very different interpretation. I also wanted to be truer to the historical events.

Roland at Roncesvalles,
Odilon Redon, c.1869
(public domain image via Wikipaintings)
The poem has artistic merit, especially about courage and betrayal, but any resemblance between it and what actually happened at the Pass of Roncevaux is purely coincidental. (See a post I wrote in May on Unusual Historicals to learn more about the massacre.) To use modern parlance, I suspect the poem, written three centuries after the event it describes, was a propaganda piece for the Crusades.

However, its copyright has long run out, and I did borrow some elements. Alfihar, the German variant of Oliver, is Hruodland’s close friend and brother of Alda, who shares the same name as the love interest in the poem. Ganelon is still the villain. And I appropriated a few other names for my characters.

Ironically, the anonymous author of the poem also did some borrowing. Hruodland (Roland), governor of the March of Brittany, is mentioned briefly in Einhard’s biography of Charlemagne. The antagonist in poem may have named after Guenelon (also spelled Vénilon), a ninth-century bishop of Sens accused of betraying one of Charles’s grandsons.

Thanks so much to Unusual Historicals for this opportunity to talk about my book, and thanks to Diane, Sandy, and Roseanne for such good questions.

Thank you, Kim and best of luck with The Cross and the Dragon, published in e-book and print by Fireship Press, available online now at Amazon and Barnes & Noble. 

For more about Kim and her fiction, visit www.kimrendfeld.com.

16 August 2012

Excerpt Thursday: THE CROSS AND THE DRAGON by Kim Rendfeld


This week on Excerpt Thursday, we’re welcoming Kim Rendfeld. Her debut novel, The Cross and the Dragon, is a love story set in eighth-century Europe, spanning today’s Switzerland, Germany, France, and Spain. Join us Sunday, when Kim will be here to talk about her novel and offer an e-book compatible with Kindle or Nook to a lucky winner. Here is the blurb:

A tale of love in an era of war and blood feuds.

Francia, 778: Alda has never forgotten Ganelon’s vow of vengeance when she married his rival, Hruodland. Yet the jilted suitor’s malice is nothing compared to Alda’s premonition of disaster for her beloved, battle-scarred husband.

Although the army invading Hispania is the largest ever and King Charles has never lost a war, Alda cannot shake her anxiety. Determined to keep Hruodland from harm, even if it exposes her to danger, Alda gives him a charmed dragon amulet.

Is its magic enough to keep Alda’s worst fears from coming true—and protect her from Ganelon?

Inspired by legend and painstakingly researched, The Cross and the Dragon is a story of tenderness, sacrifice, lies, and revenge in the early years of Charlemagne’s reign.

**An Excerpt from The Cross and the Dragon**

This scene occurs the night before Hruodland leaves for the invasion of Hispania. Hruodland and Alda lie in a curtained bed, but Alda cannot sleep.

Suddenly, Hruodland’s body stiffened. His throat made a noise like a muffled scream. His breathing changed from deep and slow to shallow and quick. He sweated. He gasped and rolled on his back. He sounded as if he was struggling to get enough air into his lungs.

“Dearling?” he whispered. His voice startled her.

“Yes, Husband,” she said.

She could feel him turn toward her. She ran her fingers through his hair. She traced his ear, his neck, shoulder, chest. He held her tightly against his body, as if he was making sure she was real.

“Another nightmare?” she asked.

“It is but a dream.”

Alda remained silent, knowing he would tell her if she did not prod him.

“I dreamt I watched a man barely out of boyhood die,” Hruodland said, holding her closer. “He had perhaps seen fifteen winters. A Saxon arrow found him but did not land in his heart straight and true. And he screamed. He screamed for what seemed hours as the men tried to pull it out of him and stop the bleeding. And then I was that boy, screaming, and they could not stop the bleeding. That is when I awoke.”

Despite herself, Alda gasped, wondering if Hruodland’s nightmare was an omen.

As if he read her mind, he said, “It is but a dream. Something I saw during the war in Saxony. Nothing more.” He touched her cheek. “I need you to be cheerful when we leave.”

Alda swallowed. She decided not to tell him of her premonition again, but she could not just lie there and pretend to be cheerful. She had to do something to protect him, even if it meant leaving herself vulnerable to the Bretons or the thieves in the forest or Bishop Luc. What mattered most was that he came back.

“Husband, there is something I want you to take,” Alda said.

She rose from the bed, letting the blankets fall from her body, and swung her feet over the edge. Shivering, she drew back the curtain. A thick night candle on a table next to the bed illuminated the solar and sleeping women. What she wanted lay next to the candle.

She picked up her iron dragon and retreated to the warmth of the blankets. The curtain was still drawn back and allowed candlelight to enter. She draped the chain that held the amulet on Hruodland's neck.

“This will protect you,” she said.

Hruodland held it and stared at it in the candlelight. “But dearling,” he stammered, “this is a gift from your father. I cannot take this from you.”

“Husband, please,” she insisted, pressing it into his hand. “It will ease my fears if you take it.”

He gave her a tender smile. “I will give it back to you when I return.”

“The stone comes from the mountain where Siegfried slew the dragon,” she said.

The dragon’s blood had made Siegfried invulnerable, almost, except for where the linden leaf fell on his shoulder.

The Cross and the Dragon, published in e-book and print by Fireship Press, is available online at Amazon and Barnes & Noble. 

For more about Kim and her fiction, visit www.kimrendfeld.com.