The Boundary

Adelais chose a clear morning for the road to Rensheim. The rain had stopped, and the ruts beyond Ammerau’s south gate had begun to dry. A covered carriage could make the first day’s distance without breaking an axle. She had asked Hartwig for six mounted men, a wagon for the crown, and his company to the boundary.

He had agreed to all three. He had not agreed to what would happen afterward.

“Friedel has my account,” she said as Ortwin checked the straps on the crown chest. “He has Wierach’s command, Hartwig’s ruling, and my name in the gate book. He can count the papers himself. I need him to see Lambert.”

Hartwig watched the servants secure the chest. “He may prefer to see the road before he sees the child.”

“Then he can see both.”

The archbishop’s gaze moved from the iron-bound chest to Lambert, who sat on a bench with his nurse. The boy was holding one of her fingers in both hands. He had been told they were going for a ride, and kept asking whether they would come back for supper.

“We will not be gone long,” Adelais told him.

Lambert studied her face, then looked at the nurse. “Will you come?”

“Yes,” the woman said. “I will sit beside you.”

That settled him enough to let Ortwin lift him into the carriage. Adelais went in after him. The crown rode in its locked chest on a separate cart, attended by two of Hartwig’s men. She had refused to leave it behind. It was the clearest claim she could put before Friedel, and the easiest thing for Wierach to demand in her absence.

They passed the cathedral, then the market stalls where the morning trade had begun. People recognized the archbishop’s escort and made way. One woman paused with a basket of onions against her hip. A boy ran alongside the carriage until Ortwin’s horse turned him back.

At the south gate, Hartwig was already waiting on horseback. The gate captain had opened the inner doors, but the outer leaves remained shut. A guard stood on the wall walk above them, watching the road.

Ortwin rode up to the captain. “Open the outer gate.”

The captain looked past him to Hartwig. “My lord, the imperial post is set across the road.”

“Then open the gate and let us see it,” Hartwig said.

The captain hesitated. The archbishop’s men had no reason to obey an imperial order inside Ammerau, and he knew it. He signaled. The doors swung outward a few feet, enough to show a line of spears across the road and a dozen mounted men behind them.

No one had drawn a sword. Their horses stood with their heads to the city, ready to turn either way.