Yes it has and everytime a King of Jorvik gets close something prevents them.
Rædwald is always scheming. Once in a while they work. He just needs the cooperation of Sigfrið on this one.
Of course there is always family to deal with.
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Whiteshirts of England: A History of the Hvitserk Dynasty of Jorvik AAR
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Yes it has and everytime a King of Jorvik gets close something prevents them.
Rædwald is always scheming. Once in a while they work. He just needs the cooperation of Sigfrið on this one.
Of course there is always family to deal with.
Chapter 7.8.1 - 6 April 1009 York
Chapter 7.8
6 April 1009 York
As the only two present Rædwald and Hlothere watched as their youngest half brother, Swæfræd entered the throne room. Rædwald sat on the throne and Hlothere stood next to him. Swæfræd was startled by the sound of the throne room doors closing behind him leaving him alone with his brothers. Unsure he looked about like a trapped animal.
Hlothere called out, “Swæfræd, come forward. We will not bite you.”
Rædwald mumbled under his breath, “Not too hard.”
Still unsure Swæfræd walked toward the throne and the dais. Once at the foot of the dias Swæfræd bowed, “You summoned me, my king.”
Rædwald in a very official tone said, “Yes I have and do you know why?”
Swæfræd looked at both of his brothers and stuttered, “No I do not.”
Rædwald turned and looked at Hlothere. Hlothere nodded and then looked at Swæfræd, “We have received complaints regarding your behavior.”
Surprised Swæfræd responded, “Complaints? What kind of complaints?”
Hlothere looked at Swæfræd the way an older brother looks at his younger sibling before chastising them, “Your behavior around and to several women of the this court.”
Swæfræd looked down at his feet and folded his hands behind his back. He did not respond.
Hlothere continued, “It has been brought to our attention that you follow certain women of the court and have been caught leering at them.”
Trying to think of a way out Swæfræd asked, “Whom am I accused of leering at?”
Knowing what his brother was trying to do Hlothere glared at him, “Eadflæd, widow of Earl Æthlweald of Gloucester, and Lady Ingrid of Chester.”
Rædwald then said, “Both are twice your age. Ingrid is also the mother of several of your brothers and sisters.”
Looking down Swæfræd said, “I am sorry but there are times I cannot help myself. I find them both beautiful and enticing.”
Rædwald smiled, “We understand that you may have certain desires and curiosity. We just ask that you do not direct it to any of the ladies of this court.”
Swæfræd replied sheepishly, “I understand.”
Rædwald was unconvinced of his brother’s sincerity, “I sense there is more to this.”
Taken back Swæfræd hesitated.
Hlothere then said, “Out with it, brother.”
Slowly Swæfræd answered, “I fear for my future.”
Hlothere narrowed his eyes, “Why us that?”
Swæfræd looked at Hlothere and answered, “Have you seen that fat cow my regent has betrothed me to?”
Inwardly Hlothere agreed with Swæfræd’s assessment, “You speak of Eadhburh daughter of Earl Thurcytel of Northampton.”
For the first time since entering the room Swæfræd seemed to be passionate, “Yes. Not only is she undesirable but she is dull and bookish. I also hear that she feels everyone is plotting against her.”
Both Hlothere and Rædwald felt the same about Eadhburh but were not in any position to to do anything fromal about the arrangement. They did express their displeasure to Mayor Geirr of Newport the regent for Swæfræd for his arrangements.
Rædwald leaned forward on the throne, “Sometimes people get placed in a marriage that is not good for them. They learn to make the best of it.”
Swæfræd smirked, “Like father did with his marriage to Elisabeth.”
Slightly annoyed at the mention of their father’s infidelity Rædwald replied, “Father was the king and as king he could do more than most could. It may not have been always the right thing to do.”
Rædwald glared at his brother, “You are only an Earl and do not have as many choices as father had. Just remember that.”
Swæfræd was going to say something but thought better of it and replied, “Yes I understand.”
Smiling Rædwald said “Good I am glad to hear you do and we will never have to speak of such matters again.”
Swæfræd nodded.
Gesturing with his hand Rædwald, he said, “You may go now.”
Swæfræd bowed and turned. He hurriedly walked out of the room.
Once Swæfræd was out of the room Hlothere turned to Rædwald and asked, “Do you believe he will not pursue the women?”
Rædwald shook his head, “Absolutely not.”
Both chuckled.
*****
An hour later both brothers were seated in the study drinking wine and eating bread.
Finishing his cup Hlothere asked, “Is this the wine King Renaud of France sent?”
Rædwald drained his cup and refilled from the pitcher on the desk, “Yes, it is the last of the shipment he sent when Eadweard was born.”
Hlothere smiled, “Will he send another shipment when the baby is born?”
Rædwald laughed, “I can only hope.”
Hlothere turned serious, “How does the queen fare?”
Rædwald grew solemn, “She is tired of being pregnant and wants the baby to be born now. The midwives and the Court Physician Aharon say the baby will come before the month is out.”
Rædwald took a couple of sips and asked, “Any word from our brother Hjalmar?”
Hlothere curled one side of his lip and replied, “He still thinks that since he is the Duke of Northumbria he deserves a seat on council.”
Rædwald shook his head, “Just turned 16 two months ago and now he thinks he is man enough to make demands. Two months without a regent and he is already a pest. Has he said anything about finding a bride?”
Hlothere rolled his eyes, “A bride no.”
Rædwald sat back in his chair and took a long drink, “Lead him on about a council seat for now. I just want him ready when we declare war on King Ælfgar.”
Hlothere now leaned forward and said, “Speaking of England what news is there?”
Rædwald finished his cup, “Since surrendering and ending his war with his brother, Ealdmund has been working on gathering information we need. There are no real changes in the war with Scotland. England still occupies Moray and Crieff. The Scottish and Tarans are besieging Dumbarton. The English army is still recovering from their defeat at Renfrew.”
Hlothere stood and filled his cup and his brothers cup. He sat back down and asked, “What of the factions in England?”
Rædwald smiled, “They grow stronger with each day.”
Hlothere sipped some wine and asked, “When will all be ready?”
Rædwald took a drink from his cup and replied, “About a year. By then the levies will have all been replenished and trained. I have asked Strula to enter into negotiation with Friedrich of the Great Company to hire his company just in case they are needed.”
Surprised Hlothere asked, “Mercenaries?”
Rædwald nodded, “I want to make sure we have enough manpower to handle England and anything else that may arise during the war.”
Hlothere finished his wine, “I see.”
The two brothers talked through the afternoon.
6 April 1009 York
As the only two present Rædwald and Hlothere watched as their youngest half brother, Swæfræd entered the throne room. Rædwald sat on the throne and Hlothere stood next to him. Swæfræd was startled by the sound of the throne room doors closing behind him leaving him alone with his brothers. Unsure he looked about like a trapped animal.
Hlothere called out, “Swæfræd, come forward. We will not bite you.”
Rædwald mumbled under his breath, “Not too hard.”
Still unsure Swæfræd walked toward the throne and the dais. Once at the foot of the dias Swæfræd bowed, “You summoned me, my king.”
Rædwald in a very official tone said, “Yes I have and do you know why?”
Swæfræd looked at both of his brothers and stuttered, “No I do not.”
Rædwald turned and looked at Hlothere. Hlothere nodded and then looked at Swæfræd, “We have received complaints regarding your behavior.”
Surprised Swæfræd responded, “Complaints? What kind of complaints?”
Hlothere looked at Swæfræd the way an older brother looks at his younger sibling before chastising them, “Your behavior around and to several women of the this court.”
Swæfræd looked down at his feet and folded his hands behind his back. He did not respond.
Hlothere continued, “It has been brought to our attention that you follow certain women of the court and have been caught leering at them.”
Trying to think of a way out Swæfræd asked, “Whom am I accused of leering at?”
Knowing what his brother was trying to do Hlothere glared at him, “Eadflæd, widow of Earl Æthlweald of Gloucester, and Lady Ingrid of Chester.”
Rædwald then said, “Both are twice your age. Ingrid is also the mother of several of your brothers and sisters.”
Looking down Swæfræd said, “I am sorry but there are times I cannot help myself. I find them both beautiful and enticing.”
Rædwald smiled, “We understand that you may have certain desires and curiosity. We just ask that you do not direct it to any of the ladies of this court.”
Swæfræd replied sheepishly, “I understand.”
Rædwald was unconvinced of his brother’s sincerity, “I sense there is more to this.”
Taken back Swæfræd hesitated.
Hlothere then said, “Out with it, brother.”
Slowly Swæfræd answered, “I fear for my future.”
Hlothere narrowed his eyes, “Why us that?”
Swæfræd looked at Hlothere and answered, “Have you seen that fat cow my regent has betrothed me to?”
Inwardly Hlothere agreed with Swæfræd’s assessment, “You speak of Eadhburh daughter of Earl Thurcytel of Northampton.”
For the first time since entering the room Swæfræd seemed to be passionate, “Yes. Not only is she undesirable but she is dull and bookish. I also hear that she feels everyone is plotting against her.”
Both Hlothere and Rædwald felt the same about Eadhburh but were not in any position to to do anything fromal about the arrangement. They did express their displeasure to Mayor Geirr of Newport the regent for Swæfræd for his arrangements.
Rædwald leaned forward on the throne, “Sometimes people get placed in a marriage that is not good for them. They learn to make the best of it.”
Swæfræd smirked, “Like father did with his marriage to Elisabeth.”
Slightly annoyed at the mention of their father’s infidelity Rædwald replied, “Father was the king and as king he could do more than most could. It may not have been always the right thing to do.”
Rædwald glared at his brother, “You are only an Earl and do not have as many choices as father had. Just remember that.”
Swæfræd was going to say something but thought better of it and replied, “Yes I understand.”
Smiling Rædwald said “Good I am glad to hear you do and we will never have to speak of such matters again.”
Swæfræd nodded.
Gesturing with his hand Rædwald, he said, “You may go now.”
Swæfræd bowed and turned. He hurriedly walked out of the room.
Once Swæfræd was out of the room Hlothere turned to Rædwald and asked, “Do you believe he will not pursue the women?”
Rædwald shook his head, “Absolutely not.”
Both chuckled.
*****
An hour later both brothers were seated in the study drinking wine and eating bread.
Finishing his cup Hlothere asked, “Is this the wine King Renaud of France sent?”
Rædwald drained his cup and refilled from the pitcher on the desk, “Yes, it is the last of the shipment he sent when Eadweard was born.”
Hlothere smiled, “Will he send another shipment when the baby is born?”
Rædwald laughed, “I can only hope.”
Hlothere turned serious, “How does the queen fare?”
Rædwald grew solemn, “She is tired of being pregnant and wants the baby to be born now. The midwives and the Court Physician Aharon say the baby will come before the month is out.”
Rædwald took a couple of sips and asked, “Any word from our brother Hjalmar?”
Hlothere curled one side of his lip and replied, “He still thinks that since he is the Duke of Northumbria he deserves a seat on council.”
Rædwald shook his head, “Just turned 16 two months ago and now he thinks he is man enough to make demands. Two months without a regent and he is already a pest. Has he said anything about finding a bride?”
Hlothere rolled his eyes, “A bride no.”
Rædwald sat back in his chair and took a long drink, “Lead him on about a council seat for now. I just want him ready when we declare war on King Ælfgar.”
Hlothere now leaned forward and said, “Speaking of England what news is there?”
Rædwald finished his cup, “Since surrendering and ending his war with his brother, Ealdmund has been working on gathering information we need. There are no real changes in the war with Scotland. England still occupies Moray and Crieff. The Scottish and Tarans are besieging Dumbarton. The English army is still recovering from their defeat at Renfrew.”
Hlothere stood and filled his cup and his brothers cup. He sat back down and asked, “What of the factions in England?”
Rædwald smiled, “They grow stronger with each day.”
Hlothere sipped some wine and asked, “When will all be ready?”
Rædwald took a drink from his cup and replied, “About a year. By then the levies will have all been replenished and trained. I have asked Strula to enter into negotiation with Friedrich of the Great Company to hire his company just in case they are needed.”
Surprised Hlothere asked, “Mercenaries?”
Rædwald nodded, “I want to make sure we have enough manpower to handle England and anything else that may arise during the war.”
Hlothere finished his wine, “I see.”
The two brothers talked through the afternoon.
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A very fraternal scene - the two brothers come across as something like grizzled veterans discussing the foibles of new recruits.
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Swæfræd... I see he's going to be a true CK2 seduction focus count. Including bedding his father's old lover. So wrong. What high-minded lord would ever do such a thing!
His wife though... yeah, that's bad. Twice his age, and with a bad, bad set of traits. Dull and erudite? What in the world?
But the England mess is coming a head. Good. it's about time to finally deal with them permanently.
His wife though... yeah, that's bad. Twice his age, and with a bad, bad set of traits. Dull and erudite? What in the world?
But the England mess is coming a head. Good. it's about time to finally deal with them permanently.
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They are trying to prevent their brother from going down a path that nearly ruined their father.
Swæfræd... I see he's going to be a true CK2 seduction focus count. Including bedding his father's old lover. So wrong. What high-minded lord would ever do such a thing!
His wife though... yeah, that's bad. Twice his age, and with a bad, bad set of traits. Dull and erudite? What in the world?
But the England mess is coming a head. Good. it's about time to finally deal with them permanently.
Swæfræd oh boy does he head down the path. I think he may pull off something that no lord from Anjou could image. I nearly dropped when I realized it.
When he was appointed Earl of Gwent he was under another liege so getting him betrothed before granting him a title was not possible. But he really did get the short end.
The next chapter is short. There are three events that just did not seem to fit anywhere. Both are important. One goes toward the problems the king has every time he tries to deal with England. Someone always seems to thwart his plans.
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Chapter 7.8.2 - 23 November 1009 York
23 November 1009 York
Full of pride Rædwald looked down at the six month old baby in his wife’s arms. The baby returned the look and cooed.The baby’s face lit up with a smile. The king returned the smile and the baby giggled..
Crístina smiled herself and said, “Sigeberht, are you laughing at your father?”
Baby Sigeberht cooed some more in response.
Rædwald leaned over and kissed Crístina on the cheek, “I am sorry. I wish I could spend more time as we had planned.”
Crístina smiled and looked up at her husband, “I understand. Sometimes I think you forget I am Queen of Mide and know that affairs of the kingdom do not always run according to our plans. What has happened?”
Rædwald shook his head, “I do not know. Ealdmund and Strula arrived with urgent news. It is never good when your Spymaster and Chancellor have urgent news at the same time. I suspect it has to do with Hjalmar.”
Crístina smiled as Sigeberht grabbed her finger. “Hopefully you will not be long and will have time to meet your sister Judith when she arrives. She so wants you to see your nephew Wulfgeat.”
Rædwald nodded, “I hope that I am able to do so. How old is Wulfgeat?”
Crístina still playing with her son responded, “Eight months now.”
Rædwald smiled at his son, “Give them my love. If for some reason I am not back in time I will see her before she leaves tomorrow.”
Crístina waved and said, “Go before you are late.”
Rædwald nodded and left the queen’s chambers.
*****
Rædwald arrived at his study and found his brother Hlothere waiting. Rædwald walked over to the desk and sat down behind it.
Hlothere shifted in his chair to look at his brother. “What do know of this?”
Rædwald looked back at his brother, “Not much just that it concerned Northumbria and was urgent.”
A moment later Strula and Ealdmund rushed into the room. Then bowed and stood before the desk.
Out of breath Strula said, “We apologize, milord for our tardiness. We tried to contact Marshal Emrys but he is not close by.”
Rædwald nodded and said, “You said this was urgent and I am missing a visit from my sister Judith.”
Ealdmund looked at the king and said, “Again I apologize but it is important that you hear this news now then at a later date when you are caught unaware.”
Rædwald looked back at Ealdmund still wondering what was so important, “Do go on.”
Ealdmund nodded, “Several weeks ago Prince Hjalmar sent a letter to Countess Elin of Durham and her regent Sveinn demanding that Elin surrender her county to Hjalmar. Once I heard about the letter I personally visited Hjalmar in Bamburgh reminding him that you had ordered there to be no disputes that will interfere with the coming plans for England.”
Anger was beginning to rise in Rædwald, “What was his response?”
Ealdmund bit his lip and replied, “He said that it was an internal matter and that it does not concern you. However if he was on Council he would be too busy to pursue such matters.”
Hlothere sat up in his seat, “He tries to blackmail you into giving him a council seat!”
Rædwald took a deep breath and looked at Hlothere, “Our brother is becoming more and more bothersome every day.”
The king then returned to Ealdmund, “What was Elin’s response?”
Ealdmund looked at Rædwald and replied, “Her response given through her regent Sveinn was no. They ordered the levie of Durham raised and are now at war with Hjalmar.”
Rædwald smashed his fist onto the desk making a loud sound that echoed through the room. He then pointed at Strula and said, “Lord Chancellor you will go to Bamburgh and explain to the Duke of Northumbria that I will not grant a Council seat to someone I cannot trust and I cannot trust someone who goes against my wishes. Tell him he is to make a white peace and end this war.”
Strula nodded. “Yes, milord.”
Rædwald turned to Ealdmund and said, “I want to know everything that is happening in Northumbria and Durham.”
Ealdmund replied, “It will be done.”
Rædwald then dismissed Strula and Ealdmund. They bowed and left the room.
Rædwald now focused on Hlothere, “Find Emrys. I need to speak to both him and you about how this affects our plans.”
Hlothere stood up, “Yes brother I will.”
As he was leaving Hlothere said, “Give Judith my love will you?”
Rædwald nodded.
After Hlothere left Rædwald stood. He was so angry he was about to push everything off his desk onto the floor but his eyes spied a document. He picked up the document and relaxed some.
The betrothal contract returned signed from Prince Karl, heir to the throne of East Francia agreeing to the betrothal of his son Heinrich and Leofflæd daughter of the late Earl Æthleweald of Gloucester. At least there is some good news today for there is a potential alliance here.
Full of pride Rædwald looked down at the six month old baby in his wife’s arms. The baby returned the look and cooed.The baby’s face lit up with a smile. The king returned the smile and the baby giggled..
Crístina smiled herself and said, “Sigeberht, are you laughing at your father?”
Baby Sigeberht cooed some more in response.
Rædwald leaned over and kissed Crístina on the cheek, “I am sorry. I wish I could spend more time as we had planned.”
Crístina smiled and looked up at her husband, “I understand. Sometimes I think you forget I am Queen of Mide and know that affairs of the kingdom do not always run according to our plans. What has happened?”
Rædwald shook his head, “I do not know. Ealdmund and Strula arrived with urgent news. It is never good when your Spymaster and Chancellor have urgent news at the same time. I suspect it has to do with Hjalmar.”
Crístina smiled as Sigeberht grabbed her finger. “Hopefully you will not be long and will have time to meet your sister Judith when she arrives. She so wants you to see your nephew Wulfgeat.”
Rædwald nodded, “I hope that I am able to do so. How old is Wulfgeat?”
Crístina still playing with her son responded, “Eight months now.”
Rædwald smiled at his son, “Give them my love. If for some reason I am not back in time I will see her before she leaves tomorrow.”
Crístina waved and said, “Go before you are late.”
Rædwald nodded and left the queen’s chambers.
*****
Rædwald arrived at his study and found his brother Hlothere waiting. Rædwald walked over to the desk and sat down behind it.
Hlothere shifted in his chair to look at his brother. “What do know of this?”
Rædwald looked back at his brother, “Not much just that it concerned Northumbria and was urgent.”
A moment later Strula and Ealdmund rushed into the room. Then bowed and stood before the desk.
Out of breath Strula said, “We apologize, milord for our tardiness. We tried to contact Marshal Emrys but he is not close by.”
Rædwald nodded and said, “You said this was urgent and I am missing a visit from my sister Judith.”
Ealdmund looked at the king and said, “Again I apologize but it is important that you hear this news now then at a later date when you are caught unaware.”
Rædwald looked back at Ealdmund still wondering what was so important, “Do go on.”
Ealdmund nodded, “Several weeks ago Prince Hjalmar sent a letter to Countess Elin of Durham and her regent Sveinn demanding that Elin surrender her county to Hjalmar. Once I heard about the letter I personally visited Hjalmar in Bamburgh reminding him that you had ordered there to be no disputes that will interfere with the coming plans for England.”
Anger was beginning to rise in Rædwald, “What was his response?”
Ealdmund bit his lip and replied, “He said that it was an internal matter and that it does not concern you. However if he was on Council he would be too busy to pursue such matters.”
Hlothere sat up in his seat, “He tries to blackmail you into giving him a council seat!”
Rædwald took a deep breath and looked at Hlothere, “Our brother is becoming more and more bothersome every day.”
The king then returned to Ealdmund, “What was Elin’s response?”
Ealdmund looked at Rædwald and replied, “Her response given through her regent Sveinn was no. They ordered the levie of Durham raised and are now at war with Hjalmar.”
Rædwald smashed his fist onto the desk making a loud sound that echoed through the room. He then pointed at Strula and said, “Lord Chancellor you will go to Bamburgh and explain to the Duke of Northumbria that I will not grant a Council seat to someone I cannot trust and I cannot trust someone who goes against my wishes. Tell him he is to make a white peace and end this war.”
Strula nodded. “Yes, milord.”
Rædwald turned to Ealdmund and said, “I want to know everything that is happening in Northumbria and Durham.”
Ealdmund replied, “It will be done.”
Rædwald then dismissed Strula and Ealdmund. They bowed and left the room.
Rædwald now focused on Hlothere, “Find Emrys. I need to speak to both him and you about how this affects our plans.”
Hlothere stood up, “Yes brother I will.”
As he was leaving Hlothere said, “Give Judith my love will you?”
Rædwald nodded.
After Hlothere left Rædwald stood. He was so angry he was about to push everything off his desk onto the floor but his eyes spied a document. He picked up the document and relaxed some.
The betrothal contract returned signed from Prince Karl, heir to the throne of East Francia agreeing to the betrothal of his son Heinrich and Leofflæd daughter of the late Earl Æthleweald of Gloucester. At least there is some good news today for there is a potential alliance here.
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Hjalmar trying to shore up his power base by weakening his own vassals makes plenty of sense, though his brothers are unlikely to care for his interests of the needs of the kingdom.
Sir, you had my curiosity but now you have my attention.
Sir, you had my curiosity but now you have my attention.
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Yes he is becoming a problem. However, for now the king will have to endure him until a better time to deal with him arises.
Hjalmar is becoming more and problematic. He wants on Council but he does not have the skills.
You will have to wait a little to find out about Swæfræd. There is a war to fight first.
It is finally here the war we have all been waiting for. The next chapter is told from a different perspective on the beginning of the war.
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Chapter 7.8.3 - 17 April 1010 Siege Lines Outside of St Andrews, County of Fife
17 April 1010 Siege Lines Outside of St Andrews, County of Fife
A cool spring breeze entered the tent as the guard pulled back the flap of the tent to allow Ealdmund Osheresson to enter. The heir to the crown of England found his brother sitting on a stool looking over a map opened on the table before him. Ealdmund looked down at the report he held in his hand. Dread filled him as he thought of giving the paper to his brother..
King Ælfgar looked up from the map. Seeing Ealdmund’s expression the king began to worry. He then saw the report in Ealdmund’s hand. Fearing the answer Ælfgar asked, “What do you hold there?”
Ealdmund hesitated. He felt sick as he handed the report to Ælfgar, “Word from Jorvik, brother.”
Taking the report like it was poison Ælfgar said, “From your tone and looks I sense it is not good news.”
Ealdmund frowned. He tried to think of way to soften the news but there was none, “It is not. A week ago King Rædwald declared War for Earl Thurcytel of Northampton’s Claim on Oxford against you.”
Ælfgar’s looked at the report and let it slowly fall to the table. His shoulders sagged and he looked much older than his 27 years.
Ealdmund understood the burdens his brother now bore. After the defeat at Renfrew nearly a year ago there had been little good news. The war with Scotland was approaching its fifth year. Victory was proving to be elusive if not impossible.
Ælfgar sighed and offered Ealdmund a seat. Ealdmund sat on a stool across from his brother. Ælfgar said, “The Jorvikian bastard come not have picked a better time to declare war on us. Our levies are just about spent. The lords are displeased with how long the levies have been raised and the cost in gold and men this war has cost.”
“When we need the support of Council and the lords of the kingdom what do they do? They band together and force us to grant the Council more power or they will pull their support for the war. With no choice we gave them the power they desired and here we will still wait for the return of their levies.”
Ealdmund took a deep breath, “We have only 1800 English troops along with the 1500 men from the Catalan Band besieging St Andrews. Not much of an army to defend the kingdom with against Rædwald.”
“We still hold Moray, Crieff, and Cupar. The Scottish have occupied all of Clydesdale. Now a combined Scottish and Taran army is trying to take back the lands of the Moray Clan.”
“How much longer can we maintain the Catalan Band?”
Ælfgar looked even more depressed now, “two or three months.”
After a moment Ælfgar asked, “What of the siege?”
Ealdmund looked up from the floor that he had been staring at, “St Andrews should fall within the week.”
Ælfgar smiled, “Some good news for once.”
Ælfgar turned glum and asked, “What do we have to defend the south with?”
A wave of depression came over Ealdmund as he answered, “Almost nothing. We will have to rely on any of the lords who will raise their levies to defend their lands.”
A flash of anger crossed Ælfgar’s face, “Damn these vassals. Knowing that I could not afford a revolt forced their demands of increasing the council’s power and now they refuse to meet with us or respond to our call.”
“Send word south and tell them to prepare for a Jorvikian invasion. Maybe they will respond to that.”
Ealdmund nodded.
Ælfgar looked at Ealdmund and asked, “Do we know anything of Rædwald’s plans?”
Ealdmund shrugged and replied, “Not much. Since the demand letter our allustrious Spymaster Earl Eadric of Dorset has been how should I say, somewhat derelict in his duties.”
Ælfgar scoffed, “One would have thought since they got what they wanted they would be more grateful.”
Ealdmund sighed, “From what we can surmise Prince Hlothere will be in command of the northern army. Earl Sumarliði will lead the attack on Oxford and Duke Emrys will most likely attack Middlesex.”
With depression worsening with each passing moment Ælfgar asked, “Has he asked for allies?”
Trying not to sound defeated Ealdmund answered, “He has asked Earl Cathal of Tír Eoghain, Chief Garalt of Ulaidh, and KIng Rogallach of Connachta.”
Without any emotion Ælfgar said, “They will all join him. They must. They are tributary to him. Queen Crístina is already allied with King Ewan so he will not ask her at this time. What of France?”
Ealdmund shrugged, “We do not know. I would think he has. Rædwald believes in having overwhelming odds in his favor.”
Ealdmund did not think it possible but his brother seemed to have aged even more than before.
Ælfgar asked, “Any further news?”
Ealdmund felt awful that he one more report, “We have reports of the Great Company off loading in York.”
Going through the motions Ælfgar asked, “Has Rædwald hired them?”
Ealdmund scratched his neck where a bug had just bit him, “If he has not I am sure he will very soon.”
Ælfgar leaned forward and rested his forehead in his hands. Ealdmund could not tell if he was crying or not. For a moment Ealdmund thought perhaps his brother had lost his mind. After a minute or two Ælfgar raised his head and sat up straight. It seemed to Ealdmund that some his fire had returned.
Ælfgar said, “Once the siege is done here we will have to move quickly.”
Ealdmund looked questioningly at his brother but he also nodded.
Ælfgar asked, “Where do think Hlothere will attack?”
Ealdmund thought for a moment by rubbing his chin, “My best guess would be Teviotdale.”
With confidence Ælfgar said, “You will take the army and plan to ambush him.”
Ealdmund was somewhat unsure, “He will outnumber me.”
Ælfgar smiled, “He will be rash. Rumor has it that he felt cheated in the Irish wars and first chance he has he will want to prove himself. One bad move on his part and you can crush him.”
Ealdmund nodded, “It won’t win the war but it may buy some time and support. What about you?”
Ælfgar stood and walked to the back of the tent and looked at his armor laid out for him, “I must go south and rally support from the lords there and from the Council.”
Ealdmund smirked, “I do not envy you.”
Ælfgar chuckled, “I do envy myself. Now send out your scouts and find Hlothere.”
Ealdmund smiled and stood, “Yes, Your Highness.”
He bowed and then walked out of the tent.
Ælfgar turned and looked at the pitcher of wine on the table. Like a man in a trance he walked towards it..
A cool spring breeze entered the tent as the guard pulled back the flap of the tent to allow Ealdmund Osheresson to enter. The heir to the crown of England found his brother sitting on a stool looking over a map opened on the table before him. Ealdmund looked down at the report he held in his hand. Dread filled him as he thought of giving the paper to his brother..
King Ælfgar looked up from the map. Seeing Ealdmund’s expression the king began to worry. He then saw the report in Ealdmund’s hand. Fearing the answer Ælfgar asked, “What do you hold there?”
Ealdmund hesitated. He felt sick as he handed the report to Ælfgar, “Word from Jorvik, brother.”
Taking the report like it was poison Ælfgar said, “From your tone and looks I sense it is not good news.”
Ealdmund frowned. He tried to think of way to soften the news but there was none, “It is not. A week ago King Rædwald declared War for Earl Thurcytel of Northampton’s Claim on Oxford against you.”
Ælfgar’s looked at the report and let it slowly fall to the table. His shoulders sagged and he looked much older than his 27 years.
Ealdmund understood the burdens his brother now bore. After the defeat at Renfrew nearly a year ago there had been little good news. The war with Scotland was approaching its fifth year. Victory was proving to be elusive if not impossible.
Ælfgar sighed and offered Ealdmund a seat. Ealdmund sat on a stool across from his brother. Ælfgar said, “The Jorvikian bastard come not have picked a better time to declare war on us. Our levies are just about spent. The lords are displeased with how long the levies have been raised and the cost in gold and men this war has cost.”
“When we need the support of Council and the lords of the kingdom what do they do? They band together and force us to grant the Council more power or they will pull their support for the war. With no choice we gave them the power they desired and here we will still wait for the return of their levies.”
Ealdmund took a deep breath, “We have only 1800 English troops along with the 1500 men from the Catalan Band besieging St Andrews. Not much of an army to defend the kingdom with against Rædwald.”
“We still hold Moray, Crieff, and Cupar. The Scottish have occupied all of Clydesdale. Now a combined Scottish and Taran army is trying to take back the lands of the Moray Clan.”
“How much longer can we maintain the Catalan Band?”
Ælfgar looked even more depressed now, “two or three months.”
After a moment Ælfgar asked, “What of the siege?”
Ealdmund looked up from the floor that he had been staring at, “St Andrews should fall within the week.”
Ælfgar smiled, “Some good news for once.”
Ælfgar turned glum and asked, “What do we have to defend the south with?”
A wave of depression came over Ealdmund as he answered, “Almost nothing. We will have to rely on any of the lords who will raise their levies to defend their lands.”
A flash of anger crossed Ælfgar’s face, “Damn these vassals. Knowing that I could not afford a revolt forced their demands of increasing the council’s power and now they refuse to meet with us or respond to our call.”
“Send word south and tell them to prepare for a Jorvikian invasion. Maybe they will respond to that.”
Ealdmund nodded.
Ælfgar looked at Ealdmund and asked, “Do we know anything of Rædwald’s plans?”
Ealdmund shrugged and replied, “Not much. Since the demand letter our allustrious Spymaster Earl Eadric of Dorset has been how should I say, somewhat derelict in his duties.”
Ælfgar scoffed, “One would have thought since they got what they wanted they would be more grateful.”
Ealdmund sighed, “From what we can surmise Prince Hlothere will be in command of the northern army. Earl Sumarliði will lead the attack on Oxford and Duke Emrys will most likely attack Middlesex.”
With depression worsening with each passing moment Ælfgar asked, “Has he asked for allies?”
Trying not to sound defeated Ealdmund answered, “He has asked Earl Cathal of Tír Eoghain, Chief Garalt of Ulaidh, and KIng Rogallach of Connachta.”
Without any emotion Ælfgar said, “They will all join him. They must. They are tributary to him. Queen Crístina is already allied with King Ewan so he will not ask her at this time. What of France?”
Ealdmund shrugged, “We do not know. I would think he has. Rædwald believes in having overwhelming odds in his favor.”
Ealdmund did not think it possible but his brother seemed to have aged even more than before.
Ælfgar asked, “Any further news?”
Ealdmund felt awful that he one more report, “We have reports of the Great Company off loading in York.”
Going through the motions Ælfgar asked, “Has Rædwald hired them?”
Ealdmund scratched his neck where a bug had just bit him, “If he has not I am sure he will very soon.”
Ælfgar leaned forward and rested his forehead in his hands. Ealdmund could not tell if he was crying or not. For a moment Ealdmund thought perhaps his brother had lost his mind. After a minute or two Ælfgar raised his head and sat up straight. It seemed to Ealdmund that some his fire had returned.
Ælfgar said, “Once the siege is done here we will have to move quickly.”
Ealdmund looked questioningly at his brother but he also nodded.
Ælfgar asked, “Where do think Hlothere will attack?”
Ealdmund thought for a moment by rubbing his chin, “My best guess would be Teviotdale.”
With confidence Ælfgar said, “You will take the army and plan to ambush him.”
Ealdmund was somewhat unsure, “He will outnumber me.”
Ælfgar smiled, “He will be rash. Rumor has it that he felt cheated in the Irish wars and first chance he has he will want to prove himself. One bad move on his part and you can crush him.”
Ealdmund nodded, “It won’t win the war but it may buy some time and support. What about you?”
Ælfgar stood and walked to the back of the tent and looked at his armor laid out for him, “I must go south and rally support from the lords there and from the Council.”
Ealdmund smirked, “I do not envy you.”
Ælfgar chuckled, “I do envy myself. Now send out your scouts and find Hlothere.”
Ealdmund smiled and stood, “Yes, Your Highness.”
He bowed and then walked out of the tent.
Ælfgar turned and looked at the pitcher of wine on the table. Like a man in a trance he walked towards it..
- 1
I think it is safe to say he is in a very tough spot. It may be one partly of his own devising, but that doesn't make it any less tough.
- 1
Ælfgar has gotten himself into quite a pickle. Almost no troops and little support. That is until the defending against foreigners modifier kicks in.
I have been chomping at the bit to get to this point. Just because Ælfgar is down by no means he is out.
I had the next chapter done and ready and then while doing some final edits I decided I did not like it at all. I have been struggling with it since I wrote it. A couple of nights ago I started a complete rewrite. I am hoping to have the first draft done today. It would have been sooner but life has a way of getting in the way and reminding us what is truly important. My father-in-law came home from the hospital (again). He was in for 16 days and then home for one and back in for 5. We have been dealing with his health for the last year. I started writing this AAR partially as a way to relax and escape from things for a few hours. Many nights I write with one eye on him and the other here. Many thanks to those who read this and comment. I never thought of myself as a good writer so I use those comments as ways to improve.
So, coming shortly (hopefully later tonight) will be the opening moves of the Jorvikian English War.
- 1
Chapter 7.9.1 - 4 July 1010 Bishopric of Melrose, County of Teviotdale
Chapter 7.9
4 July 1010 Bishopric of Melrose, County of Teviotdale
The afternoon pressed on as did the Jorvikian heavy infantry. Prince Hlothere, Duke of Gwynedd and Commander of the Northern Army watched from the saddle of his horse with the reserve. Outnumbering the English by nearly two to Hlothere felt that the reserve would only be needed to finish off the English.
He had wished he could use his calvary more effectively but the terrain where Ealdmund Osheresson had set his lines prevented that. The English commander had chosen to make his stand near a crossroads in a wooden area. The trees were not dense but there were enough to make calvary operating off the road or the small clearing near the crossroads very difficult. The ground was also uneven and sloping up toward the defenders. The heavy infantry and pikemen also had difficulties maneuvering amongst the trees. Their formations became disconnected and isolated. Instead of hitting the English as one massive formation they were striking them piecemeal.
The light infantry and archers, however, this terrain was taylormade. They could hide behind trees, rocks, and other forest debris. They moved quickly and in far greater numbers than their English counterparts. Slowly but surely the little pricks they were making were having an effect. The English were beginning to waver and the heavy infantry was finding their attacks more and effective following the light infantry.
Hlothere smiled. This was his command. A command promised by his brother and delivered. This was his plan and it was working despite those who criticized him and the plan. Somewhere before him wielding his two headed axe with deadly results was his biggest critic and half brother Sigfrið, Earl of Gloucester and Marshal of the Duchy of Gwynedd.
Sigfrið who from almost the beginning of the campaign seemed to relish in making his brother’s life as a commander hellish. He questioned and protested nearly everything Hlothere proposed or did.
When Hlothere proposed to invade Teviotdale Sigfrið objected The scene from nearly two months ago so infuriated Hlothere it began to replay in his mind.
*****
Hlothere entered the command tent and was greeted by his commanders, Prince Sigfrið, Mayor Vagn of Lowther who was Marshal of Westmorland, and Earl Eadwine of Cumberland. The commanders gathered around the table in the center of the tent. On the table was a map of Northumbria and English Lothian as the Jorvikians called the English controlled Duchies of Lothian and Galloway.
Hlothere handed his gloves and helmet to his squire who took them and placed them on a table nearby.Hlothere looked at the map and then his commanders and asked, “Have all the levies arrived?”
Eadwine answered, “Yes, milord. The last troops arrived from Derby yesterday afternoon.”
Hlothere looked warily at the Earl of Cumberland who was second in command. It was a position he held primarily due to the Northumbrian levie being the largest in the Northern Army. Hlothere was unsure if he trusted the Cumberlander. He had been one of the leading supporters of Countess Maria’s Revolt. He was seriously wounded at the Battle of Furness. From what Hlothere had heard he had fought bravely during the Irish Tribuate Wars. According to rumors he fallen into disfavor with Prince Hjalmar, Duke of Northumbria over Eadwine’s unenthusiastic support of Hjalmar’s War to Revoke Durham. He was sent to fight the English as his punishment.
Hlothere smiled, “Tomorrow we shall begin our glorious campaign here in the north. While many will look to the south for the war to be won. It will be here in the north where the English army will be destroyed.”
The commanders applauded Hlothere.
Vagn was the only one of the three seated asked, “Who commands in the south?”
Hlothere looked over the 75 year old mayor. Vagn was the only commander seated. His gout in his right foot had flared up and the pain prevented him from standing. Hlothere knew at one time Vagn had fought bravely for the rebels during the revolt and had even earned the respect of Duke Emrys. Now his abilities were fading with his advancing years and Hlothere thought his time was over.. Being Marshal of Westmorland Hlothere had been directed to offer him a command.
“Bishop Hrolfr will land in Sussex. Earl Sumarliði will attack Middlesex. Duke Emrys and the king will invade Oxford.”
The disposition of the armies in the south meet with approving grins from all the commanders expect Sigfrið. Hlothere glared at his half brother who returned the look.
Hlothere continued, “We will invade Teviotdale. If the English army does not show itself we will advance on Jedburgh and invest the city.”
Hlothere looked at the gathered commanders. He was pleased with what he saw. Eadwine whose hatred of the English was well known was smiling ear to ear. Vagn who also had a long history of wishing for war with the English. Coming to Sigfrið who Hlothere knew could not the English he was disappointed as the Earl of Gloucester stood silent with a scowl on his face.
Hlothere then looked down at the map and pointed roads leading from Cumberland where they presently stood into Teviotdale, “Earl Eadwine you will take the lead with your Northumbrians and the levie from Mann. Earl Sigfrið you will follow with the levies from Gwynedd, Chester, and Derby.” Hlothere had given his brother the largest number of troops in the army hoping it would appease him some. “And lastly Mayor Vagn you will follow with the levies from Lancaster and Westmorland.”
Hlothere looked up from the ap and said, “You have your orders. Now go and prepare. We will leave an hour after sunrise.”
The commanders acknowledged their orders and left. Eadwine was the first to leave. Vagn required assistance from his squire who was always nearby to stand. The aged mayor leaned heavily on the boy as he left. Only Sigfrið was left.
Hlothere looked at his brother and his annoyance spilled over as he said, “Out with it brother.”
Sigfrið glared at his brother and snapped back, “Are you not being foolhardy? Did Rædwald, the king direct you to exercise caution and only invade once you were sure of the English intentions?”
Hlothere glared right back at Sigfrið, “The English are tied up at St Andrews.”
Sigfrið shook his head, “That information is months old. For all we know the bishopric could have fallen by now and the English are marching toward the border. What strength are they? We have only 4000. Would it not be prudent to wait for the Great Company to reinforce us?”
Hlothere looked at the map, “They only have about 2000 troops.”
Sigfrið threw his arms in the air, “How did come to that conclusion?”
Hlothere smiled proudly, “That is the number of English troops Æflgar has left after the majority of his vassals abandoned him after forcing him to give more power to the Council.”
Sigfrið slammed his palms on the table and leaned toward his brother, “What of the Catalan Band? That is 1500 mercenaries you have not accounted for.”
Hlothere stood straight and folded his arms at his chest, “By now Ælfgar has released them.”
Sigfrið felt like he was jousting with an idiot, “How in the name of all the saints did you learn this?”
Hlothere was growing angry at his brother by now, “He can no longer afford them. By now his treasure is pretty close to being empty.”
Sigfrið shook his head, “And they call me mad?”
Now clenching his fists at his side Hlothere now fully angry let Sigfrið have it, “Just because you are my brother do not think that protects you in any way. I will arrest you for insubordination in a heartbeat. Do you understand?”
Sigfrið licked his lip and started to say something but he stopped himself. He did reply angrily, “Yes.” Then he added as he began to walk out, “You had better be right.”
On his way past the stool Vagn had sat on Sigfrið kicked it over.
Hlothere watched his brother leave. He then realized that he was clenching his fists so hard that his nails were drawing blood.
*****
Hlothere was brought back to the battle by the sound of a messenger approaching. The rider stopped before Hlothere and bowed as much as he could on a horse.
Eagerily Hlothere asked, “What is it?”
The messenger replied, “Earl Eadwine said that the right flank of the enemy is collapsing and it is time to send in the reserves.”
Anger quickly flashed in Hlothere. Eadwine dares to order me. He forgets his place in this army. Hlothere took a breath before speaking. The messenger did not deserve his wrath. “Tell Earl Eadwine to push the flank toward the center. We will attack when we feel the time is appropriate.”
The messenger nodded. He saluated this time instead of trying the awkward bowing. He then wielded his horse around and galloped off.
Hlothere cursed the trees. He could not really see what was happening on the flank. He turned to look at the center. The line was still holding. For a split second Hlothere could see Sigfrið and his bloody axe rallying the troops forward. Then he was lost in a mass of men and foliage.
Seeing his brother amidst the danger of battle Hlothere suddenly felt regret. Regret that over the last couple of months he had been constantly angry with his brother. It had hit Hlothere that Sigfrið could easily die on this day. It was taking a great deal of emotion to overcome the animosity he felt the last week or two.
*****
Sigfrið stormed through the siege camp outside of Jedburgh. Upon reaching Hlothere’s tent he yanked back the flap and entered the tent. There he found Hlothere in the process of donning his armor. His squire was assisting him in getting into his chain mail.
Sigfrið took one look at the squire and in a blood curling voice said, “Out.”
Full of fear the squire looked at Hlothere. Hlothere nodded and squire ran out of the tent as fast as he could.
Full of anger Hlothere said, “What is the meaning of storming in here?”
Sigfrið looked at his brother and hissed, “So it is true. You have found the English.”
Hlothere finished adjusting his armor and replied, “Yes we have. Scouts report they are marching through Lothian towards us.”
Still in a foul mood Sigfrið asked, “How many?”
Hlothere smiled, “About 1800. All Englishmen. No mercenaries. Ealdmund Osheresson is commanding. See all your worrying was for naught.”
With venom in his voice Sigfrið asked, “Are you sure?”
Hlothere growing weary of the conversation, “Yes!”
Sigfrið walked toward his brother and said, “What are your intentions?”
Hlothere glared at his brother, “To destroy them.”
Sigfrið turned and walked back toward the opening and then turned back to Hlothere, “You are going to abandon the siege and chase after them.”
Hlothere nodded, “Yes.”
Sigfrið took a breath and said, “We have fortifications here. Why not wait for him to attack?”
Hlothere picked up is sword and belt. He wrapped the belt around his waisted and buckled it, Ealdmund Oshere will not attack us here. We are too strong. He will bypass us instead.”
Sigfrið threw his arms up and said, “Then let him bypass us. Finish the siege.”
Hlothere was getting frustrated and replied, “I cannot allow him to run amuck unchecked in Northumbria or further south. We must destroy him now.”
Sigfrið showing signs of his own frustrations, “These forested lands between here and Melrose are no place for battle or finding the enemy. Two armies with minstrels playing could pass each other in these forest and never know the other one was there. It is not good ground to attack on.”
Hlothere replied, “Nevertheless it is the ground we have.”
Sigfrið shook his head, “You are playing right into Ealdmund Osheresson hands.”
Now fully angy Hlothere said, “That is enough. Earl get your soldiers ready to move. We have a War Council in an hour.”
Sigfrið glared at Hlothere. He then spun around and stormed out of the tent.
*****
The noise from the battle before him transported Hlothere back to the woods near Melrose. As he struggled to see the fighting he thought he saw glimpses of the English flank folding. He could feel his heart beating in his chest. His mouth was dry. The moment of his triumph was upon him.
He stood in the saddle and turned to the men around him. They were made up of all the calvary he had which was all light horse, and several hundred heavy infantry and a small troop of longbowmen. “Calvary in the front. Infantry and bowmen follow.”
He then drew his sword and pointed toward the English.
“Forward!,” he yelled.
The horsemen followed Hlothere down the road. First at a slow pace and then at a trot. They lowered their spears as they began to gallop. The Jorvikian infantry before them cleared the way and cheered.
Just a few hundred feet from the English lines the forest was filled with sound of horns. Horns coming from the right flank and rear of the charging reserve.
Hlothere was confused. Without realizing he allowed his horse to slow some as did many of the horsemen. He looked around trying to discern the direction the horns were coming from.
Like a banshee the horns sounded again. Then like ghosts horsemen appeared out of the trees charging toward the Jorvikian reserve. They wore yellow and red vertically striped tunics. The horsemen were followed by infantry.
Hlothere cursed, “the Catalan Band. Ælfgar found a way to keep them for a while longer.”
Hlothere tried to turn the reserve to defend against the charging mercenaries. However, the momentum of the reserve carried them into the English lines. What had been an organized attack had disintegrated into a mob trying to stay alive.
*****
From his position to the left of Hlothere Sigfrið saw the charge. With horror he saw the Catalan Band charge out of the woods and watched them head toward his brother. Realizing Hlothere was about to be cut off Sigfrið yelled like a Viking of old.
Sigfrið brought his axe up and swung it at the closest Englishman who went down with a huge wound in his chest. Sigfrið moved forward only to find his way blocked. This English soldier managed to swing his sword at Sigfrið but the earl ducked. He swung his axe again and the soldier lost his arm and with another swing of the axe his life.
Each time Sigfrið tried to move toward his brother more and more Englishmen stepped before him and barred his way. Others joined Sigfrið but the mass of enemy troops were too much.
Sigfrið watched with dismay as Hlothere was surrounded. Then he saw Hlothere pulled down from his horse. Hlothere seemed to be swallowed by the mass of enemy soldiers around him.
Sigfrið screamed, “No!” and tried even harder to reach his brother. Again his way was blocked. Now, however, the way was not only blocked by English but by Jorvikian soldiers retreating.
Seeing their commander fall had unnerved them. First a few retreated in good order. Then more and more. Order collapsed. Morale disappeared and the rout was on. It was now everyman for himself. Sigfrið found himself swept up in the chaos. The battle was lost.
*****
Hlothere’s head hurt like it had never before. Slowly he opened his eyes. The room he was in was dimly lit by several candles. He was resting on a cot under some blankets. He threw the blankets off and lifted himself to a sitting position. His head was swimming. He quickly held it in both hands with his elbows resting on his knees.
The last things Hlothere remembered was being struck in the chest by a spear. The blow knocked the wind out of him but did not pierce his armor. As he wavered in the saddle he felt hands grabbing him, pulling him. He was now falling. He hit the ground with loud crash. There was a bright flash and then darkness.
Suddenly the room which was actually a tent was lit with bright light. Hlothere blinked and tried to looked up but he could not recognize the person standing before him.
The man said, “Prince Hlothere how you do feel?”
Hlothere now recognized the person, “I have been better, Ealdmund Osheresson.”
Ealdmund Oshere smiled, “That is good. You will be our guest for a time.”
4 July 1010 Bishopric of Melrose, County of Teviotdale
The afternoon pressed on as did the Jorvikian heavy infantry. Prince Hlothere, Duke of Gwynedd and Commander of the Northern Army watched from the saddle of his horse with the reserve. Outnumbering the English by nearly two to Hlothere felt that the reserve would only be needed to finish off the English.
He had wished he could use his calvary more effectively but the terrain where Ealdmund Osheresson had set his lines prevented that. The English commander had chosen to make his stand near a crossroads in a wooden area. The trees were not dense but there were enough to make calvary operating off the road or the small clearing near the crossroads very difficult. The ground was also uneven and sloping up toward the defenders. The heavy infantry and pikemen also had difficulties maneuvering amongst the trees. Their formations became disconnected and isolated. Instead of hitting the English as one massive formation they were striking them piecemeal.
The light infantry and archers, however, this terrain was taylormade. They could hide behind trees, rocks, and other forest debris. They moved quickly and in far greater numbers than their English counterparts. Slowly but surely the little pricks they were making were having an effect. The English were beginning to waver and the heavy infantry was finding their attacks more and effective following the light infantry.
Hlothere smiled. This was his command. A command promised by his brother and delivered. This was his plan and it was working despite those who criticized him and the plan. Somewhere before him wielding his two headed axe with deadly results was his biggest critic and half brother Sigfrið, Earl of Gloucester and Marshal of the Duchy of Gwynedd.
Sigfrið who from almost the beginning of the campaign seemed to relish in making his brother’s life as a commander hellish. He questioned and protested nearly everything Hlothere proposed or did.
When Hlothere proposed to invade Teviotdale Sigfrið objected The scene from nearly two months ago so infuriated Hlothere it began to replay in his mind.
*****
Hlothere entered the command tent and was greeted by his commanders, Prince Sigfrið, Mayor Vagn of Lowther who was Marshal of Westmorland, and Earl Eadwine of Cumberland. The commanders gathered around the table in the center of the tent. On the table was a map of Northumbria and English Lothian as the Jorvikians called the English controlled Duchies of Lothian and Galloway.
Hlothere handed his gloves and helmet to his squire who took them and placed them on a table nearby.Hlothere looked at the map and then his commanders and asked, “Have all the levies arrived?”
Eadwine answered, “Yes, milord. The last troops arrived from Derby yesterday afternoon.”
Hlothere looked warily at the Earl of Cumberland who was second in command. It was a position he held primarily due to the Northumbrian levie being the largest in the Northern Army. Hlothere was unsure if he trusted the Cumberlander. He had been one of the leading supporters of Countess Maria’s Revolt. He was seriously wounded at the Battle of Furness. From what Hlothere had heard he had fought bravely during the Irish Tribuate Wars. According to rumors he fallen into disfavor with Prince Hjalmar, Duke of Northumbria over Eadwine’s unenthusiastic support of Hjalmar’s War to Revoke Durham. He was sent to fight the English as his punishment.
Hlothere smiled, “Tomorrow we shall begin our glorious campaign here in the north. While many will look to the south for the war to be won. It will be here in the north where the English army will be destroyed.”
The commanders applauded Hlothere.
Vagn was the only one of the three seated asked, “Who commands in the south?”
Hlothere looked over the 75 year old mayor. Vagn was the only commander seated. His gout in his right foot had flared up and the pain prevented him from standing. Hlothere knew at one time Vagn had fought bravely for the rebels during the revolt and had even earned the respect of Duke Emrys. Now his abilities were fading with his advancing years and Hlothere thought his time was over.. Being Marshal of Westmorland Hlothere had been directed to offer him a command.
“Bishop Hrolfr will land in Sussex. Earl Sumarliði will attack Middlesex. Duke Emrys and the king will invade Oxford.”
The disposition of the armies in the south meet with approving grins from all the commanders expect Sigfrið. Hlothere glared at his half brother who returned the look.
Hlothere continued, “We will invade Teviotdale. If the English army does not show itself we will advance on Jedburgh and invest the city.”
Hlothere looked at the gathered commanders. He was pleased with what he saw. Eadwine whose hatred of the English was well known was smiling ear to ear. Vagn who also had a long history of wishing for war with the English. Coming to Sigfrið who Hlothere knew could not the English he was disappointed as the Earl of Gloucester stood silent with a scowl on his face.
Hlothere then looked down at the map and pointed roads leading from Cumberland where they presently stood into Teviotdale, “Earl Eadwine you will take the lead with your Northumbrians and the levie from Mann. Earl Sigfrið you will follow with the levies from Gwynedd, Chester, and Derby.” Hlothere had given his brother the largest number of troops in the army hoping it would appease him some. “And lastly Mayor Vagn you will follow with the levies from Lancaster and Westmorland.”
Hlothere looked up from the ap and said, “You have your orders. Now go and prepare. We will leave an hour after sunrise.”
The commanders acknowledged their orders and left. Eadwine was the first to leave. Vagn required assistance from his squire who was always nearby to stand. The aged mayor leaned heavily on the boy as he left. Only Sigfrið was left.
Hlothere looked at his brother and his annoyance spilled over as he said, “Out with it brother.”
Sigfrið glared at his brother and snapped back, “Are you not being foolhardy? Did Rædwald, the king direct you to exercise caution and only invade once you were sure of the English intentions?”
Hlothere glared right back at Sigfrið, “The English are tied up at St Andrews.”
Sigfrið shook his head, “That information is months old. For all we know the bishopric could have fallen by now and the English are marching toward the border. What strength are they? We have only 4000. Would it not be prudent to wait for the Great Company to reinforce us?”
Hlothere looked at the map, “They only have about 2000 troops.”
Sigfrið threw his arms in the air, “How did come to that conclusion?”
Hlothere smiled proudly, “That is the number of English troops Æflgar has left after the majority of his vassals abandoned him after forcing him to give more power to the Council.”
Sigfrið slammed his palms on the table and leaned toward his brother, “What of the Catalan Band? That is 1500 mercenaries you have not accounted for.”
Hlothere stood straight and folded his arms at his chest, “By now Ælfgar has released them.”
Sigfrið felt like he was jousting with an idiot, “How in the name of all the saints did you learn this?”
Hlothere was growing angry at his brother by now, “He can no longer afford them. By now his treasure is pretty close to being empty.”
Sigfrið shook his head, “And they call me mad?”
Now clenching his fists at his side Hlothere now fully angry let Sigfrið have it, “Just because you are my brother do not think that protects you in any way. I will arrest you for insubordination in a heartbeat. Do you understand?”
Sigfrið licked his lip and started to say something but he stopped himself. He did reply angrily, “Yes.” Then he added as he began to walk out, “You had better be right.”
On his way past the stool Vagn had sat on Sigfrið kicked it over.
Hlothere watched his brother leave. He then realized that he was clenching his fists so hard that his nails were drawing blood.
*****
Hlothere was brought back to the battle by the sound of a messenger approaching. The rider stopped before Hlothere and bowed as much as he could on a horse.
Eagerily Hlothere asked, “What is it?”
The messenger replied, “Earl Eadwine said that the right flank of the enemy is collapsing and it is time to send in the reserves.”
Anger quickly flashed in Hlothere. Eadwine dares to order me. He forgets his place in this army. Hlothere took a breath before speaking. The messenger did not deserve his wrath. “Tell Earl Eadwine to push the flank toward the center. We will attack when we feel the time is appropriate.”
The messenger nodded. He saluated this time instead of trying the awkward bowing. He then wielded his horse around and galloped off.
Hlothere cursed the trees. He could not really see what was happening on the flank. He turned to look at the center. The line was still holding. For a split second Hlothere could see Sigfrið and his bloody axe rallying the troops forward. Then he was lost in a mass of men and foliage.
Seeing his brother amidst the danger of battle Hlothere suddenly felt regret. Regret that over the last couple of months he had been constantly angry with his brother. It had hit Hlothere that Sigfrið could easily die on this day. It was taking a great deal of emotion to overcome the animosity he felt the last week or two.
*****
Sigfrið stormed through the siege camp outside of Jedburgh. Upon reaching Hlothere’s tent he yanked back the flap and entered the tent. There he found Hlothere in the process of donning his armor. His squire was assisting him in getting into his chain mail.
Sigfrið took one look at the squire and in a blood curling voice said, “Out.”
Full of fear the squire looked at Hlothere. Hlothere nodded and squire ran out of the tent as fast as he could.
Full of anger Hlothere said, “What is the meaning of storming in here?”
Sigfrið looked at his brother and hissed, “So it is true. You have found the English.”
Hlothere finished adjusting his armor and replied, “Yes we have. Scouts report they are marching through Lothian towards us.”
Still in a foul mood Sigfrið asked, “How many?”
Hlothere smiled, “About 1800. All Englishmen. No mercenaries. Ealdmund Osheresson is commanding. See all your worrying was for naught.”
With venom in his voice Sigfrið asked, “Are you sure?”
Hlothere growing weary of the conversation, “Yes!”
Sigfrið walked toward his brother and said, “What are your intentions?”
Hlothere glared at his brother, “To destroy them.”
Sigfrið turned and walked back toward the opening and then turned back to Hlothere, “You are going to abandon the siege and chase after them.”
Hlothere nodded, “Yes.”
Sigfrið took a breath and said, “We have fortifications here. Why not wait for him to attack?”
Hlothere picked up is sword and belt. He wrapped the belt around his waisted and buckled it, Ealdmund Oshere will not attack us here. We are too strong. He will bypass us instead.”
Sigfrið threw his arms up and said, “Then let him bypass us. Finish the siege.”
Hlothere was getting frustrated and replied, “I cannot allow him to run amuck unchecked in Northumbria or further south. We must destroy him now.”
Sigfrið showing signs of his own frustrations, “These forested lands between here and Melrose are no place for battle or finding the enemy. Two armies with minstrels playing could pass each other in these forest and never know the other one was there. It is not good ground to attack on.”
Hlothere replied, “Nevertheless it is the ground we have.”
Sigfrið shook his head, “You are playing right into Ealdmund Osheresson hands.”
Now fully angy Hlothere said, “That is enough. Earl get your soldiers ready to move. We have a War Council in an hour.”
Sigfrið glared at Hlothere. He then spun around and stormed out of the tent.
*****
The noise from the battle before him transported Hlothere back to the woods near Melrose. As he struggled to see the fighting he thought he saw glimpses of the English flank folding. He could feel his heart beating in his chest. His mouth was dry. The moment of his triumph was upon him.
He stood in the saddle and turned to the men around him. They were made up of all the calvary he had which was all light horse, and several hundred heavy infantry and a small troop of longbowmen. “Calvary in the front. Infantry and bowmen follow.”
He then drew his sword and pointed toward the English.
“Forward!,” he yelled.
The horsemen followed Hlothere down the road. First at a slow pace and then at a trot. They lowered their spears as they began to gallop. The Jorvikian infantry before them cleared the way and cheered.
Just a few hundred feet from the English lines the forest was filled with sound of horns. Horns coming from the right flank and rear of the charging reserve.
Hlothere was confused. Without realizing he allowed his horse to slow some as did many of the horsemen. He looked around trying to discern the direction the horns were coming from.
Like a banshee the horns sounded again. Then like ghosts horsemen appeared out of the trees charging toward the Jorvikian reserve. They wore yellow and red vertically striped tunics. The horsemen were followed by infantry.
Hlothere cursed, “the Catalan Band. Ælfgar found a way to keep them for a while longer.”
Hlothere tried to turn the reserve to defend against the charging mercenaries. However, the momentum of the reserve carried them into the English lines. What had been an organized attack had disintegrated into a mob trying to stay alive.
*****
From his position to the left of Hlothere Sigfrið saw the charge. With horror he saw the Catalan Band charge out of the woods and watched them head toward his brother. Realizing Hlothere was about to be cut off Sigfrið yelled like a Viking of old.
Sigfrið brought his axe up and swung it at the closest Englishman who went down with a huge wound in his chest. Sigfrið moved forward only to find his way blocked. This English soldier managed to swing his sword at Sigfrið but the earl ducked. He swung his axe again and the soldier lost his arm and with another swing of the axe his life.
Each time Sigfrið tried to move toward his brother more and more Englishmen stepped before him and barred his way. Others joined Sigfrið but the mass of enemy troops were too much.
Sigfrið watched with dismay as Hlothere was surrounded. Then he saw Hlothere pulled down from his horse. Hlothere seemed to be swallowed by the mass of enemy soldiers around him.
Sigfrið screamed, “No!” and tried even harder to reach his brother. Again his way was blocked. Now, however, the way was not only blocked by English but by Jorvikian soldiers retreating.
Seeing their commander fall had unnerved them. First a few retreated in good order. Then more and more. Order collapsed. Morale disappeared and the rout was on. It was now everyman for himself. Sigfrið found himself swept up in the chaos. The battle was lost.
*****
Hlothere’s head hurt like it had never before. Slowly he opened his eyes. The room he was in was dimly lit by several candles. He was resting on a cot under some blankets. He threw the blankets off and lifted himself to a sitting position. His head was swimming. He quickly held it in both hands with his elbows resting on his knees.
The last things Hlothere remembered was being struck in the chest by a spear. The blow knocked the wind out of him but did not pierce his armor. As he wavered in the saddle he felt hands grabbing him, pulling him. He was now falling. He hit the ground with loud crash. There was a bright flash and then darkness.
Suddenly the room which was actually a tent was lit with bright light. Hlothere blinked and tried to looked up but he could not recognize the person standing before him.
The man said, “Prince Hlothere how you do feel?”
Hlothere now recognized the person, “I have been better, Ealdmund Osheresson.”
Ealdmund Oshere smiled, “That is good. You will be our guest for a time.”
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Oh I like this passage, the forward and back through time, and the way it is setup to show that Sigrid's concerns were justified. I especially liked though Sigfrid's reaction to being proved right. I do not doubt that he would very dearly love to have been proven wrong.
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Hlothere proving himself the steward he is and not the commander - including determining the money the English could not have to pay the mercenaries. That he was taken alive is good for him - he'll almost certainly be released... though how long he'll have to wait is an interesting question. Ransoming him is paying the salaries of the Catalan Band... and thus offering the blood of Jorvik for the prince. But... if he remains in prison, Holthere's life could grow perilous, and certainly cause a rift between the brothers.
Will be interesting to see where this goes.
Will be interesting to see where this goes.
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Hlothere is the over anxious person who feels that he needs to prove himself. He is favored of the king. Sigfrið, on the other hand is the mad brother who turns out to be the voice of reason and is ignored to disastrous consequences.
I used Hlothere and his ambitious trait to his ruin. He wanted to be the hero, the great general. As a result he rushes in and is undone. We will have to see how his actions and the results affect him in the future. He is the friend of the king via the game.
Now it is the Jorvikians turn to get some measure of revenge. In this chapter Sigfrið begins the chapter and shows how his madness has manifested itself in one way.
Just like the previous chapter I did not care for it as I wrote it. This time, however, I just needed to flesh out the first part. The second half underwent more of change as I changed the attitude of one of the characters from the frightened mouse to the cynical "I am done with this" character. In some future chapters the reasons for his remarks will be revealed.
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Chapter 7.9.2 - 13 December 1010 Bishopric of Whithorn, County of Rhinns
13 December 1010 Bishopric of Whithorn, County of Rhinns
Earl Sigfrið of Gloucester stood amongst the carnage. Despite the cold December wind blowing across the once frozen field Sigfrið was sweating under his armor. He was out of breath and the two handed axe he held in his arms was heavier than it was earlier in the day. The field itself had become a sea of muck and blood. Broken bodies and horses were strewn about, The cries of the dying and wounded filled the air.
For the moment the battle had moved past Sigfrið. As he caught his breath he scanned the field looking for his next victim. Sigfrið imagined himself to be a berserker of old on the battlefield. During a battle such as today he felt disconnected from his body. It was like he was possessed by some angel of war that guided him through the fight. On the battlefield he became unstoppable. Thus far this day according to his count he had felled twelve men. Sigfrið never felt more alive.
Out of the corner of his eye Sigfrið saw movement to his right. He turned to see what appeared to be a knight mounted on a large black steed leading a dozen or so men at arms toward Sigfrið. The knight did not have his lance and had drawn his sword which he pointed toward Sigfrið. The knight charged. Around Sigfrið other Jorvikian soldiers saw the coming charge and rallied around the earl.
Sigfrið set himself waiting for the rider. The axe once again felt light in his hands. Sigfrið noted mentally that the knight was right handed.
To reach me he will have to lean down on the right side of his mount. His left will be exposed and vulnerable.
As the rider neared he raised the sword to attack and leaned forward as Sigfrið thought. Watching the rider and horse became the only thing in Sigfrið’s world. All sounds but the muffled clomping the horse’s hooves and its breathing disappeared. He even noted the clumps of dirt that flew into the air behind the charging horse. He could see the sweat on the chest of the beast.
Sigfrið brought his axe up as if he was going to parry the sword blow. At the last minute Sigfrið moved quickly to his right. Passing in front of the horse. Neither the horse or the rider expected such a move. The horse broke its rhythm and raised its head. As Sigfrið hoped the animal’s chest was exposed. Slipping past the horse Sigfrið swung his axe with a back handed motion. The blade dug deep into the horse’s chest. The creature wailed in pain. The momentum of the charge nearly ripped the axe from Sigfrið’s grip. With an effort he forced the axe lose from the collapsing horse.
The horse landed on its front knees and then fell on its right side. The rider flew forward and then was thrown to the right as the horse tumbled. The rider lost his grip on his sword as he rolled and the blade flew into the air. The rider continued rolling in the air until he slammed into the ground face first. He continued to roll on the ground until he was laying on his back.
Filled with adrenaline and the exhilaration of battle Sigfrið felt unstoppable. In one fluid motion he leaped around the wreckage of the the horse and raised his axe. He was ready to deliver the killing blow to the knight who had the audacity to attack him. His muscles tensed and the axe began to fall.
“Earl Sigfrið hold your axe!” a voice screamed clearly over the noise of battle.
In the state he was in Sigfrið did not hear the cry. All he heard was a muffled sound that distracted him for a moment.
A second cry was made, “Sigfrið do not kill him!”
Like a man coming out of a trance Sigfrið was confused. Uncertainty suddenly filled him He hesitated. Sweat poured into his eyes and clouded his vision. He blinked several times. His eyes regained their focus and he found himself looking at a man he thought he knew. An enemy but someone he knew. Someone important. Then his mind found the name.
He was able to stop his blow but lost his balance. He nearly fell on top of the man. Regaining his balance Sigfrið took a second look at the man on the ground grimacing in pain. As he did the source of the voice approached.
With an evil grin Sigfrið said, “Do not worry yourself Bishop Gandalfr. You can return to Wenlock telling stories of how you saved his life.”
Sigfrið turned to the man on the ground and brought his axe blade to the man’s throat. Gandalfr looked at Sigfrið in horror and began to order the archers with him to aim at Sigfrið.
Sigfrið then asked the man, “Oshere Ealdmundsson, father of King Ælfgar, do you yield?”
Through the pain Oshere replied, “I do.”
Sigfrið stepped back and smiled at Gandalfr, “I was there when Captain Friedrich Commander of the Great Company and Bishop Æthelwulf of St Peters reminded everyone not to kill nobles unless absolutely necessary as they were valuable as hostages.”
Gandalfr glared at Sigfrið. Sigfrið laughed as he walked by the annoyed bishop.
*****
As twilight began to creep across the across the once peaceful field that through the actions of men had become a hell on earth. The cries of the suffering permeated the winter dusk. Many who survived the battle would not survive the cold of the night. Men moved about the carnage to find the wounded or collect the dead for burial. Their passage was marked by the protests and flights of carrion.
In the command tent of the Northern Army of Jorvik Oshere Ealdmundsson sat on a stool with two Jorvikian soldiers standing guard next to him. The father of the English king watched the comings and goings of the Jorvikians and their mercenaries. An odd feeling of relief washed over him as he realized that the war was over for him.
Oshere’s gaze found Captain Friedrich, commander of the Great Company ad for now the Northern Army. The mercenary capitan barely gave Oshere a passing glance. Just then Bishop Æthelwulf of St Peters walked up to Friedrich.
Friedrich looked at Æthelwulf, “I have no use for him.” He nodded toward Oshere, “Do what you want with him. Just tell your king I delivered him alive and therefore am owed a bounty as agreed for each English noble that is captured.”
Æthelwulf smiled and nodded, “I will make certain King Rædwald knows of your taking Oshere prisoner.”
Friedrich nodded and walked away from Æthelwulf. The bishop stood for a moment looking at the English prisoner. He then walked over to Oshere.
“Lord Oshere how do fare?”
“Oshere looked up at the bishop, “I far the best I can given my circumstances. What is to become of me?”
Æthelwulf replied bluntly, “That is for King Rædwald to decide. I suspect you will be held as a hostage to guarantee the well being of Prince Hlothere.”
Oshere smirked, “That is not overly comforting.”
Surprised Æthelwulf asked, “Why do say that?”
Oshere chuckled, “Your King Rædwald loves his brother, Hlothere. I fear my sons do not grace me with the same affection. Therefore I may be a poor choice of a hostage for those lofty purposes.”
Æthelwulf was lost for words.
Oshere looked down at the ground and then back up at Æthelwulf while he fiddled with the sleeve of his under padding. “Are the fools running for the North Channel after the beating they received today?”
Æthelwulf nodded, “It appears that is where the remnants of the army is heading.”
Oshere shook his head, “We should have abandoned the North Counties after the trouncing your army handed us at Burgh. I tried to convince them but they hold onto a foolish hope that a miracle will save them.”
“After the victory at Melrose I championed for removing the army from the north and sailing south. There we could join with the levies being raised and actually have a chance at doing some harm.”
“Besieging Lancaster played right into your king’s hands. Isolated and outnumbered there was no chance of surviving.”
Confused Æthelwulf said, “It is strange to hear such words from the father of a king.”
Oshere laughed, “I am someone who says how things truly are and I have no time for kings and their high and mighty attitudes. The blade of mad peasant revolt leader and the hesitation of my father showed me the true ways of the world.”
Æthelwulf looked down and said, “I am sorry about what happened to you.”
Oshere laughed again, “No you’re not. You are glad it happened. Otherwise you would be facing me as king not my idiot of a son.”
Æthelwulf thought for a moment and then agreed inwardly that he would rather deal with Ælfgar than with Oshere.
Oshere caught Æthelwulf’s look as he came to his conclusion and laughed out loud and slapped his leg, “See I knew you rather have my son as king than myself.”
Æthelwulf was thrown off guard by Oshere’s reaction. “You appear not to care for this war.”
Oshere chuckled, “I am under no illusion this war was lost before it began. It is only a matter of time before our army is destroyed and enough cities and keeps fall before Ælfgar surrenders.”
Confused Æthelwulf said, “You talk of a losing cause but yet you still fight.”
Oshere laughed, “I am loyal for now.”
Æthelwulf asked, “For now.”
Oshere smiled, “There are ways to be a king other than inheriting.”
Æthelwulf gave Oshere a questioning look.
Oshere smirked. He yawned and stretched, “It has been a long day. I should like to retire for the evening.”
Æthelwulf nodded and spoke to the guards. They helped Oshere stand and walked him out of the tent.
Earl Sigfrið of Gloucester stood amongst the carnage. Despite the cold December wind blowing across the once frozen field Sigfrið was sweating under his armor. He was out of breath and the two handed axe he held in his arms was heavier than it was earlier in the day. The field itself had become a sea of muck and blood. Broken bodies and horses were strewn about, The cries of the dying and wounded filled the air.
For the moment the battle had moved past Sigfrið. As he caught his breath he scanned the field looking for his next victim. Sigfrið imagined himself to be a berserker of old on the battlefield. During a battle such as today he felt disconnected from his body. It was like he was possessed by some angel of war that guided him through the fight. On the battlefield he became unstoppable. Thus far this day according to his count he had felled twelve men. Sigfrið never felt more alive.
Out of the corner of his eye Sigfrið saw movement to his right. He turned to see what appeared to be a knight mounted on a large black steed leading a dozen or so men at arms toward Sigfrið. The knight did not have his lance and had drawn his sword which he pointed toward Sigfrið. The knight charged. Around Sigfrið other Jorvikian soldiers saw the coming charge and rallied around the earl.
Sigfrið set himself waiting for the rider. The axe once again felt light in his hands. Sigfrið noted mentally that the knight was right handed.
To reach me he will have to lean down on the right side of his mount. His left will be exposed and vulnerable.
As the rider neared he raised the sword to attack and leaned forward as Sigfrið thought. Watching the rider and horse became the only thing in Sigfrið’s world. All sounds but the muffled clomping the horse’s hooves and its breathing disappeared. He even noted the clumps of dirt that flew into the air behind the charging horse. He could see the sweat on the chest of the beast.
Sigfrið brought his axe up as if he was going to parry the sword blow. At the last minute Sigfrið moved quickly to his right. Passing in front of the horse. Neither the horse or the rider expected such a move. The horse broke its rhythm and raised its head. As Sigfrið hoped the animal’s chest was exposed. Slipping past the horse Sigfrið swung his axe with a back handed motion. The blade dug deep into the horse’s chest. The creature wailed in pain. The momentum of the charge nearly ripped the axe from Sigfrið’s grip. With an effort he forced the axe lose from the collapsing horse.
The horse landed on its front knees and then fell on its right side. The rider flew forward and then was thrown to the right as the horse tumbled. The rider lost his grip on his sword as he rolled and the blade flew into the air. The rider continued rolling in the air until he slammed into the ground face first. He continued to roll on the ground until he was laying on his back.
Filled with adrenaline and the exhilaration of battle Sigfrið felt unstoppable. In one fluid motion he leaped around the wreckage of the the horse and raised his axe. He was ready to deliver the killing blow to the knight who had the audacity to attack him. His muscles tensed and the axe began to fall.
“Earl Sigfrið hold your axe!” a voice screamed clearly over the noise of battle.
In the state he was in Sigfrið did not hear the cry. All he heard was a muffled sound that distracted him for a moment.
A second cry was made, “Sigfrið do not kill him!”
Like a man coming out of a trance Sigfrið was confused. Uncertainty suddenly filled him He hesitated. Sweat poured into his eyes and clouded his vision. He blinked several times. His eyes regained their focus and he found himself looking at a man he thought he knew. An enemy but someone he knew. Someone important. Then his mind found the name.
He was able to stop his blow but lost his balance. He nearly fell on top of the man. Regaining his balance Sigfrið took a second look at the man on the ground grimacing in pain. As he did the source of the voice approached.
With an evil grin Sigfrið said, “Do not worry yourself Bishop Gandalfr. You can return to Wenlock telling stories of how you saved his life.”
Sigfrið turned to the man on the ground and brought his axe blade to the man’s throat. Gandalfr looked at Sigfrið in horror and began to order the archers with him to aim at Sigfrið.
Sigfrið then asked the man, “Oshere Ealdmundsson, father of King Ælfgar, do you yield?”
Through the pain Oshere replied, “I do.”
Sigfrið stepped back and smiled at Gandalfr, “I was there when Captain Friedrich Commander of the Great Company and Bishop Æthelwulf of St Peters reminded everyone not to kill nobles unless absolutely necessary as they were valuable as hostages.”
Gandalfr glared at Sigfrið. Sigfrið laughed as he walked by the annoyed bishop.
*****
As twilight began to creep across the across the once peaceful field that through the actions of men had become a hell on earth. The cries of the suffering permeated the winter dusk. Many who survived the battle would not survive the cold of the night. Men moved about the carnage to find the wounded or collect the dead for burial. Their passage was marked by the protests and flights of carrion.
In the command tent of the Northern Army of Jorvik Oshere Ealdmundsson sat on a stool with two Jorvikian soldiers standing guard next to him. The father of the English king watched the comings and goings of the Jorvikians and their mercenaries. An odd feeling of relief washed over him as he realized that the war was over for him.
Oshere’s gaze found Captain Friedrich, commander of the Great Company ad for now the Northern Army. The mercenary capitan barely gave Oshere a passing glance. Just then Bishop Æthelwulf of St Peters walked up to Friedrich.
Friedrich looked at Æthelwulf, “I have no use for him.” He nodded toward Oshere, “Do what you want with him. Just tell your king I delivered him alive and therefore am owed a bounty as agreed for each English noble that is captured.”
Æthelwulf smiled and nodded, “I will make certain King Rædwald knows of your taking Oshere prisoner.”
Friedrich nodded and walked away from Æthelwulf. The bishop stood for a moment looking at the English prisoner. He then walked over to Oshere.
“Lord Oshere how do fare?”
“Oshere looked up at the bishop, “I far the best I can given my circumstances. What is to become of me?”
Æthelwulf replied bluntly, “That is for King Rædwald to decide. I suspect you will be held as a hostage to guarantee the well being of Prince Hlothere.”
Oshere smirked, “That is not overly comforting.”
Surprised Æthelwulf asked, “Why do say that?”
Oshere chuckled, “Your King Rædwald loves his brother, Hlothere. I fear my sons do not grace me with the same affection. Therefore I may be a poor choice of a hostage for those lofty purposes.”
Æthelwulf was lost for words.
Oshere looked down at the ground and then back up at Æthelwulf while he fiddled with the sleeve of his under padding. “Are the fools running for the North Channel after the beating they received today?”
Æthelwulf nodded, “It appears that is where the remnants of the army is heading.”
Oshere shook his head, “We should have abandoned the North Counties after the trouncing your army handed us at Burgh. I tried to convince them but they hold onto a foolish hope that a miracle will save them.”
“After the victory at Melrose I championed for removing the army from the north and sailing south. There we could join with the levies being raised and actually have a chance at doing some harm.”
“Besieging Lancaster played right into your king’s hands. Isolated and outnumbered there was no chance of surviving.”
Confused Æthelwulf said, “It is strange to hear such words from the father of a king.”
Oshere laughed, “I am someone who says how things truly are and I have no time for kings and their high and mighty attitudes. The blade of mad peasant revolt leader and the hesitation of my father showed me the true ways of the world.”
Æthelwulf looked down and said, “I am sorry about what happened to you.”
Oshere laughed again, “No you’re not. You are glad it happened. Otherwise you would be facing me as king not my idiot of a son.”
Æthelwulf thought for a moment and then agreed inwardly that he would rather deal with Ælfgar than with Oshere.
Oshere caught Æthelwulf’s look as he came to his conclusion and laughed out loud and slapped his leg, “See I knew you rather have my son as king than myself.”
Æthelwulf was thrown off guard by Oshere’s reaction. “You appear not to care for this war.”
Oshere chuckled, “I am under no illusion this war was lost before it began. It is only a matter of time before our army is destroyed and enough cities and keeps fall before Ælfgar surrenders.”
Confused Æthelwulf said, “You talk of a losing cause but yet you still fight.”
Oshere laughed, “I am loyal for now.”
Æthelwulf asked, “For now.”
Oshere smiled, “There are ways to be a king other than inheriting.”
Æthelwulf gave Oshere a questioning look.
Oshere smirked. He yawned and stretched, “It has been a long day. I should like to retire for the evening.”
Æthelwulf nodded and spoke to the guards. They helped Oshere stand and walked him out of the tent.
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Well now, I see more than a little potential to foment trouble in England at this rate.
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It's a shame you can't outright swap prisoners - in this case, I imagine that is probably what would have happened. And it would have been beneficial too - get back the prince without having to fund the English mercenaries.
But after that initial setback though, things seem to be falling into place.
But after that initial setback though, things seem to be falling into place.
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