She was interviewing three of the whores, who knelt somewhat nervously an arm’s length away from the big cat, and in her quick movements and flashing, sudden changes of expression, Rosvita read the habit of command. The steward bent to whisper in her ear, and she dismissed the prostitutes by giving them each a coin, then rose and strode over to her visitors. The spotted leopard uncoiled gracefully to pad after her. The timbre of the pleasant courtyard atmosphere changed utterly with her movement: Everyone watched to see what she would do.
She halted before them, looked Theophanu up and down, and said boldly, in terrible Wendish: “You my cousin? I learn this tongue for to speak with the king.”
“Cousin, I greet you,” replied Theophanu in the Aostan way. Then she switched to Wendish and let Rosvita translate. “I greet you, Cousin, and bring you greetings from my father, Henry, king of Wendar and Varre.” The princess towered over Queen Adelheid; she stood a good head taller, and her handsome features had that strongboned cast that lasts through old age. Adelheid was formed of different matter: She had the kind of lush, youthful prettiness that fades with age into the respectable authority of a stout matron.
“Come,” said Adelheid in Aostan, acknowledging Rosvita with a nod, “we will take wine and food, but alas we can waste no time with pleasantries, as would be proper. You must tell me how many troops you have brought, and if you are willing to use them to drive away Ironhead.” She continued talking so rapidly that Rosvita was forced several times to ask her to repeat herself as they left the courtyard, passed down a shadowed colonnade, and were shown onto an airy balcony shaded by a massive grape arbor where servants laid out a table with various delicacies: a platter of fruit, gold dishes filled with plum cakes and poppyseed bread, and a decanter of wine whose rich bouquet flavored every bite they took.
“You have seen,” Adelheid began when the worst pangs of hunger were assuaged, “how dogs fight over a bone. The good people of Aosta are my children, and they are obedient, but the lords are scavengers. I can trust none of them. If one throws out Ironhead’s army, it will only be to take his place. They say Ironhead had his wife poisoned before he marched here because she refused to take the veil and enter a convent to leave him free to marry me.”
“He did not seem a merciful man.” Theophanu took another bunch of grapes from the platter and neatly plucked the ripe fruit from the stalk. “But I do not have sufficient strength in troops to drive him away alone.”