Don't be scared this week when my voice changes dramatically around minute 26; my wife, Jayme, decided to jump into the pod with me and lend her voice talents to a quote from the Byzantine Empress Theodora. I think it sounds great, and breaks up hearing only my voice for nigh these 21 episodes...

With that said, when we left off last week, Fredegunda was sitting pretty after her victory in Droizy. While the battle was a clear victory for the Neustrians and an embarrassment for the Austrasians, it still wouldn’t have had the effect of significantly changing the balance of power in Francia. The Austrasians were in control of much more territory, had much more access to a body of manpower from which to conscript new soldiers, and had an economic base to match all of this. In betting parlance, they were the “gorilla” sitting at the table: they didn’t need to be better or more skilled than the other people in the game, simply because they could afford to make bets and take losses that those around them couldn’t. Fredegunda could win all of the battles on her home turf that she wanted; she would almost never be able to break out. On top of all of that, battles were more costly for her due to the lack of resources at her disposal. If she got into a fight and was able to kill 3,000 of the enemy while only losing 1,000 of her men, it would seem like a win until she realized that 1,000 men equaled 10 percent of her available forces, whereas 3,000 only equaled three percent of her enemy’s. Add to that the disparity in recruitment, and suddenly we realize that every person and resource in the Neustrian army is a precious commodity that can’t be lost frivolously. Fredegunda would have been tied to asymmetric warfare and on the lookout for opportunities where she could get the most “bang for the buck.” With that said, she would have looked for low-cost, high-reward opportunities outside of military action to bolster her standing such as dynastic weddings and assassinations.

Beyond Fredegunda and her shenanigans, what about Brunhilda? Well, here we are in 596. Brunhilda is 53, past those years in which she might become a mother, but still able to use her charm, innate beauty and – most of all – her intelligence to manipulate those around her. What she had lost in girlish prettiness had been more than made up for by her understanding of the kingdom and its government; if anyone wanted anything done, they came to her. Still, she had enemies. One was her son's Queen Consort, Faileuba. The girl, a quiet little waif of a concubine that Brunhilda had let into the King’s presence in order to satisfy the young man’s lustful urges, had worked her way up from simply being a companion to the king to being his wife. She had two sons by him, and she had started pressing her husband, as the King, to, well, you know... lead. This would have put Brunhilda in a bind. She needed to do something to reassert her control, to make sure her son and his moron wife didn't lead them all to death and damnation. She loved her son, but now he was in the way to her holding power as opposed to being her key to wielding power. He might just have to go...

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