Brunhilda Speaks

As I have come to understand, certain misguided people have been complaining about the way I ran my government when I was alive. They are under the impression that I was a horrific tyrant who dominated my husband and ran the Frankish kingdom into the ground. It’s all a very familiar story. All queens have to deal with it. Certain persons in power get very nervous about powerful women. I think it’s because they know and fear that they can’t control us. Either that, or they envy our power, or make fun of us for our backgrounds if we had the misfortune to be born as serving girls or were taken as slaves.

You have to deal with that kind of impudence quickly, or they will never stop, and if you are extremely unlucky they will write histories about you. They will paint you as a Jezebel and none-too-subtly imply that everything the king does wrong is implicitly your fault, because you are the Queen and you used your Womanly Charms on him. Especially monks; monks are the worst when it comes to gossip-mongering. God forbid the king be held responsible for his own actions without pinning the blame on his queen.

It is remarkable, I think, that I  arrived where I did. I had to take advantage where I could— while a queen can influence a king, that influence only goes so far. In times like mine, you had to be ruthless if you wanted to survive and if you didn’t want to be controlled. I dealt with threats to myself and to my family and our names, and my sons were cooperative for the same concern. There is no shame in ruthlessness when it is necessary. If you let such people as that monk run rampant you would open yourself to mockery. Monks write history books, and because they’re the only ones bothering to keep histories. Some of them fill their books with whatever they choose, especially if you offend them. I antagonized the nobles, yes, but they offend themselves. You have to keep them in check somehow or they will destroy your hard work with their petty infighting and nonsense.

I must also remind all of you that I am not the ruthless monster I am made out to be. I did my part to benefit the Empire and hold the faith. Why else would I have converted to the Roman church from my native Arianism? I restored the Roman roads—without them, our empire would not enjoy the prosperity in trade that it currently has. I built beautiful churches to improve the artistic standing of our people across Europe and across the world.

Of course, they have the right to tell the story of my death as they see it. There is nothing pitiable or tragic about an old woman being tied to wild horses and being torn apart while she still lives. After all, they say, Brunhilda was a tyrant. She had it coming, and such a wicked queen deserved a punishment to suit the crime. Right?