Prelude
A tall man, age of forty or so, walked along a dark corridor. He was in no hurry really, so he stopped by a small window and looked out. 'The sun is setting', he said to himself, 'he's probably waiting for me already'. He never really looked forward to dealing with strangers, but this one was important, as he brought a message from Ulm, the seat of duke Rudolf. 'I hope Siegmund's there, he's so much better at talking than me', he thought as he continued his internal conversation. But he doubted it. He sent his chaplain back to Basel. Yet another wrong decision he made in the last few months. He hoped that the one concerning Swabia wasn't wrong as well. Only a half of the glowing ball was now visible behind the tall mountains. 'It's time,' he thought and continued forth.
'His Grace, Werner the count of Aargau!" The herold announced his entry as he walked trough the doors of the great hall of castle Habsburg. His wife Regenlinde was already sitting on her seat, as was Siegmund! Why didn't anyone tell him that his chaplain was in the castle? Everybody stood up as he went past them and greeted him.
He stopped by his chaplain and asked: 'Siegmund, what are you doing here?'
'I am sorry that I couldn't inform Your Grace. I just arrived to the castle with the messanger.'
'With the messanger?'
'He arrived to Basel 3 days ago and I promissed him to accompany him.'
'Good, good. I am glad you did.' With that he went to his seat.
As he sat, a man came before him and kneeled. 'Your Grace. I come from Swabia with both good and sorrow news,' he begun.
'Do you bring answer from duke Rudolf?', he asked, starting to fear the messanger's answer.
'I do, Your Grace, and more than that I am afraid.' He wanted to say something more, but was stopped by Werner.
'What is the duke's answer?'
'His higness agreed to the bethrothal of his oldest daugher, Adelaide, and Your Grace's son, Otto. But I have to announce that His Higness, duke Rudolf, has passed away three weeks ago.'
These news caused an uproar in the hall. Werner was stunned and didn't know what to do. Luckily, his wife knew him enough to save the situation. 'We are sorry to hear those news about our dear friend, duke Rudolf. I presume his son Berthold rules now?'
'Indeed, my lady.'
'And will duke Berthold honour his father's agreement?'
'I do not know His Higness' will concerning this, my lady, as I was already on my route here when this happened. But knowing the nature of my young duke, I believe he will, my lady.'
'I thank you, dear mister. As you can see, His Grace my husband is not feeling well, this sorrow news was a terrible shock for him. With your approval, gentlemen, I will accompany him to his rooms.
Their bedroom was full of child's cry as their youngest daughter, Serhilda, who was born las autumn, showed her hunger. Reginlind sent for a nurse and set next to her husband. 'You know what this means, my dear?'
'What, Reginlind?' Werner answered, fearing how will this conversation end.
'Adelaide is Bertohld's heiress. Should he died, our son will be betrothed to a duchess of Swabia.'
'Berthold is healthy and strong, at least Siegmund says that.'
'You shouldn't always listen to that boy, my dear. He cares more about the afterlife than our miserable existence here.'
'As do I,' he responded angrily. He loved Siegmund as a brother and hated when his wife tried to turn them against each other. 'This world is just a trial for our souls, nothing more.'
'Whatever you say, my dear. But should Berthold die...'
'Should Berthold die?' he repeated without any understanding. She didn't say anything else and left him with his thougts.
The year went by, spring turned into summer, summer into autumn and suddenly a new year was there, a year born under the sign of war. In January the emperor called for war and marched northwards to purge the pagans of Pommerania and Pommeralia. As a dutiful vassal, Werner marched with him. With her husband gone, Reginlind started to plan a great future for her son. She travelled with him to Ulm to see his future bride, as she said, but also to spy on Berthold and spot his weaknesses. As it turned out, Otto and Adelaide understood each other quite well and so Reginlind remained in Ulm for the whole summer. Unfortunately, she realised that that bloody Siegmund was right: Berthold was healthy and full of strength and it was very unlikely that he would die from an illness. In september, she decided to return back to Aargau. There was nothing she could do with Berthold now and planning was better done at home.
Heinrich, ruler of the Roman Empire, stood in a tent that stinked of death. And indeed, on a bed there lied a man, age of forty or so, with a terrible wound on his chest. 'My liege,' the man said painfully, 'you shouldn't have come'.
'I always visit my loyal vassals, dear Werner. Even though they are about to meet our Lord sooner than anticipated.'
'I am sorry that I have failed you, my liege.' As he said that, a strong cough overcame him.
'Oh no, it is me who is sorry. But do not worry, Werner, I will take care of your wife and son. I have decided to grant him Stettin which you so valiantly helped to conquer.'
'I... I am very grateful for that, my liege.' Another strong coughing. And, as it turned out, his last as well. The emperor stood there and watched as his comrade-in-arms so abruptly, after forty six years of life, stopped breathing.