VI. THE WELSH HEGEMONY
Mid July, 890
In the reign of Earl Cgeþ of Lindsey
For Nottinghamshire, my fellow knight Reeve Copsige (though he be of little skill at arms) remains Catholic, but ever fearful of the earl's might. He shepherds Retford wisely, it would seem, for the I saw a great building is in the works. I am told it will be a guild hall where the local craftsmen might convene to organize and take apprentices. The reeve still bears the mark of those wounds he suffered in the battle at Nottingham two years past. A lasting reminder of the dogged resistance Alfriðr's men provided.
I would imagine the young woman possesses no love for my earl since the conflict, and I hear it told that she is quite the cunning one. I should hope God's own blessing upon Æthelberht and, yes, even Halfdán to defend the earl against her schemes.
The East Riding remains wholly resistant to the liege's control, even as he stands as their liberator. Earl Cgeþ makes effort to improve the matter seasonally, so surely in time we shall see change. The local reeve, Sæxbald of Bridlington, is a man of keen mind. A serene thinker on matters of war who infrequently meets with the liege to discuss strategy. He has been named marshal (to Halfdán's chagrin) and I suppose he shall make good of the office.
Though County Lindsey rests mostly at the earl's heel, many here do not care for the liege. It is a majority Catholic county, after all. Reeve Osulf in Grimsby is most displeased he does not have a seat on the council, but I fear nothing from him. He is advanced in years and terrified of the earl besides.
The borderlands north and southeast remain dangerous for travel, though not a strategic liability, the liege insists. I shall trust his judgment in the matter. With Jórvik no longer in control of the East Riding, they no longer share a border with us, which has done much to ease my immediate worries. "Jarnamóda", as the Wolf would have it called, remains at war and is not a threat to us in the immediate. Presently the North Riding is held under guard by some man whose banner I do not recognize. Banditry, I am told, is rampant.
Meanwhile Cambridgeshire to the southeast of Lindsey is patrolled my men showing the arms of the house of Wessex. I have approached these men and discovered they belong to Earl Þoræd of a land called Léon, who is supposedly the son and heir of King Æthelred the Just. I know nothing of the man, though I hope he can be trusted to not turn his Catholic sword upon Lindsey anytime soon.
This shall conclude my report, I think. I will rehease these points and deliver them to the earl on the morrow.
With a bit of coin to spare, the earl has decided to extend some of his wealth to the court in exchange for services. I shall now account for each of these in detail, that I may be mindful of who should be suspected should something befall the realm in any of these matters.
The man called Lóeguire ui Briain has been appointed as
court physician, (of which I wrote one month past,) and has today been established as a "
court tutor" as well. He facilitates lessons not only for the liege's sons, but for my Cenwulf as well. At present, he works to schedule young Hallsteinn time with Leodweard in order that the young heir (who now lives his eighth summer) might acquire the Norse tongue.
Somewhat related to this is the ill report that Leodweard has been feeling poorly of late. I do hope he should recover soon.
There is, of course, the matter of myself. I have served rather ineffectually as
Caravan Master to the earl and his court for some twelve years time. I would say little of this, for I do not feel I am worthy of the fee I am paid.
Æthelberht and Halfdán serve as
the earl's bodyguards, for seven and four years ongoing, respectively. Both acquit themselves well at the job, though (I dare not say aloud) I want for yet better protection for the earl. I should not speak so, for I can offer no better myself.
And finally, Hallsteinn Tolirsson has indeed been raised to the station of
envoy. His bilingual conveyance of our liege's intentions does seem to have, within the peerage of Mercia, established reasonable standing for the liege.
On the matter of Hallsteinn, I am told the liege caught a letter
he wrote to a sister of his. In it he lauds her great beauty and speaks as though she shall one day be a great diplomatic figure of some sort herself, or so the earl tells me. The earl has become quite fascinated with this girl and has hinted to me that he may wish to make her the bride of his heir, should East Anglia prove unattainable indeed. Convincing her to come to Lindsey shall be a task most dire, I would imagine: For the girl is Norse, and most like follows Norse idols. Moreover my liege is her brother's captor and has through coercion pressed him into his knighthood.
We shall see if this bears any fruit, but I will attempt to caution the earl against any rash decisions. Not as though I have the earl's ear in any great way; Nevertheless, as God enables me, I shall speak my advise and counsel.
I worry after Lady Ealdgyth. The dear woman has fallen very ill, and she struggles to breathe of late. If the earl shall leave her in Lóeguire's care, then I shall do the same. I only hope that I yet see her again when all is done. I find myself glad that my son is not yet ready to squire, for
I harbour a great and terrible dread that Hæsteinn shall turn about to slay us to a man. God do as He wills.
A peculiar twist of fortunes. King Burghred has delcared a holy war upon the North Riding in the name of Christendom (more specifically, Catholicism) and bit the earl join. The earl has for the time put his own ambitions on hold and agreed to support the king, for he worries that otherwise, the king in his old age might revoke the grace he formerly extended.
On the march to Grimsby,
we lost Æthelberht, who had been the foremost of the knights since the passing of Beorhthelm, to a bout of illness in the winter chill. We shared a moment of silent respect for the man beside the road, (for which our king graciously allowed,) before sending his body ahead with Hallesteinn to be buried in the village where he spent his youth.
It is now two knights which we have lost to the ravages of age in the field. I begin to wonder if I am next. I feel steady enough, but fourty-one winters take their toll. Who is to say for certain what God has in store for me? Nevertheless, I will not fear, for I know that resurrection awaits in time future. Whether I die in battle or die on the march, or even if I die beside Tiburge, I know that Christ shall raise me at His coming.
Therefore, I shall continue in the grace of our merciful God so long as He wills.
As I write this, we camp in Northamptonshire, days sound of Leicester hold. Tomorrow we shall make for what remains of Hæsteinn's lands in Britain (for I am told Æthelred has concluded his war in victory) and, God willing, find victory afore long.
About the camp, we are told only that it has been this way "for a while". I know little of King Merfyn, so I inquired about him from the fird composing the western liege levy of the duke. They speak of him as an illustrious king and a faithful Catholic, and as well a man of exceptional diplomatic ability. This may account for his ability to bring Burghred to his knee without a war. (For Burghred has many mighty allies by marriage, some even in Wales.)
The call him a recluse, for he frequently steals away from feasts to be in privacy. They say that before his war against Hæsteinn, he toured Wales in grand fashion making a most august display before his vassals. A man of poise, dignity, and achievement. As well, they say his queen (a daughter of the renowned Karlings of the south) is a graceful lady of superior dignity.
By all accounts, a king worthy of the title. Not such a man as I am bothered to call "king" (but for his Catholic pretenses).
It is the final day of January, anno Domini 893. I write from a merchant vessel at sea, (near the Bretagne Coast, I am told,) which we procured in Whitby at Burghred's behest. More than one month ago, the host of Hæsteinn was spotted in the East Riding three thousand strong, and it was not the duke's wish to contend with the Wolf himself. Thus we sale for Montagiu, the place he calls his home, to lay siege to his primary holding.
These past months while laying siege in Britian, my liege has been making exceptional effort to soften the duke to him and mend old wounds. I
inquired of him as to the past he shared with Lord Burghred, and he was generous to share: It seems that in time past, the earl harboured great respect for Bughred, which was reciprocated. Yet sometime in his youth, the earl was accused in courtly gossip of bedding the duke's wife, the lady Æthelswith. This was, near as I could tell, the beginning of the end for their good feelings one toward another. The earl assures me it was naught but idle gossip, yet the damage was done. (I am not certain I believe him, given his proclivities, my opinion being worth naught.)
About this time the earl sided with King Æthelred in a war against Burghred. It was a time when the Norse presence in Britian was much stronger; the desire to be rid of their threat more dire. The earl believed at the time that Æthelred, who had made many political moves to secure himself, was the best hope for the Anglo-Saxons and all British Christendom, and so he fought to advance the king's power. Even despite this, (though the wound was quite deep,) Burghred still valued the earl's counsel and appointed him Marshal of Wessex (a title he bears to this very day).
It was shortly thereafter when the earl became attached to the teachings of our apostle Paul, which fixed the divide between them. They have been on difficult terms ever since. This war has provided them ample opportunity to speak, the earl being his most logical (and I should say, in my opinion, most sound,) voice on matters of military strategy. I hope to God they find common ground once again and hold it, for I should not like to see the earl taken from power at the present time.
The cool sea air danced upon the faces of subject and liege as seafowl circled o'erhead, seeking prey where they might. Both men were silent as they gazed upon the waters. Reticent, not only by matter of the conflict, but moreover by that which stirred betwixt them. At the last it was Burghred who broke the serene melody of the rolling waves.
"I bear aught against thee, Arþifanc."
"I know this well, my liege," said Cgeþ. Their eyes did not meet, for each supposed as though looking the other to the face may sour their mood. 'Twas a delicate cessation of hostility they shared, and they would do all in their power to not sully it.
"Would that thou wouldst merely return to the faith, Cgeþ," said the duke. "I should hold thee as my most prised vassal. 'Twould be no contest, for thou art a man mighty in battle, cunning of mind, and wiser than I in matters of war by a full measure. Wouldst thou but seek confession; I say, whether for what thou didst unto me with mine wife, or for having upset my digestion when thou answeredst to the rumour: Thou knowest, and God knoweth. Wouldst thou do only this, I would wholly forgive thee!"
"My liege, I do not begrudge thee thine vice, but I cannot betray that faith which God hath given unto me," spake Cgeþ to the duke's tension. "I could proffer myself before thy Catholic bishop for a shew, but 'twould lack conviction of the heart. Wouldst thou rather I be true, or a liar?"
"Thou knowest I would rather a true servant than one who putteth on airs," sighed Burghred. His head did shake gently this way and that. "My mightiest vassal, unable to accept the authority of the church... What am I to do with you?"
"It is thy right to do as thou wilt, my lord," said Cgeþ with all display of humility. "God hath give unto you the authority to order me burnt upon a stake, if it be thy desire. Merely ask, and I would deliver myself unto you. I shall not resist thine intention, for I know it be God who putteth it in thine heart."
A period of quiet did follow. Once more, 'twas the song of the sea which carried the moment. Were they sat in the court of Mercia, the silence would surely have been unbearable; yet here, among the gentle roll of the waves, it brought only peace. Finally, the duke's shoulders lowered ever so slightly. He turned unto his vassal, a look of quiet regret in his eye, and spake in the tone of an older brother, "We shall only dwell upon this earth so long, Cgeþ, and I shall not enjoy watching you suffer in Hellfire."
The earl, turning his gaze unto him, smiled and said, "I shall quite enjoy seeing you again when all is made new, my liege."
- Romance of the IX Century (1543)
We have landed in Montaigu, and none too soon, for the sea did not sit overly well with me. I have a mind to write by reason of the splendour of this land. Vast, open plains beside a beautiful sea tinctured in richest blue. Though it is not home, I cannot quite imagine why this land did not suffice for Hæsteinn (who himself is not native to it, I imagine). February here is mild indeed, when compared to Lindsey, which has been good to the fird. Forage and plunder sufficient for keeping the men in good spirit are not very far.
We arrived in county Montaigu two days past, whereupon we met
King Alfonsu of León, who is called "the Lion"; a man I had not seen since the melee in Jórvik, (which is the seat of Jórvik hold, and not to be mistaken for the chiefdom of Jórvik, which now is called Northumbria,) and then I had not known his name. To recollection, he was the man who had led the Christian party in the melee. It would seem the man has joined as an ally of Duke Burghred, the reason why being lost on me. Nevertheless I find it a stroke of sweetest irony that the man who lost at Hæsteinn's melee now returns to win Christian lands back from him.
My liege has had occasion to speak with this king, (as his office as Duke Burghred's marshal brings them into proximity), and describes him as a man of cunning who knows war every bit as intimately as the earl himself. I have seen first hand that he is also quite the fighter, for I remember him leading at the front during the melee; though I would not go as far as to take him for a greater fighter than Earl Cgeþ. He is, however, in superb physical condition, which stands quite in contrast to our liege.
I worry for home. That my wife and son, that the dear lady of Lindsey, and that others still might fall prey to Hæsteinn in our absence. But if this is the liege's will, then I know God has led us here for a cause.
There has been a large breach placed in the walls of this sturdy fortress by the onagers of Lindsey. It is good to know we do our part, for as this is June, I have missed my son's coming of age, and this vexes me somewhat. I shall see him soon enough, I am sure, and a squire no less. Soon this place shall fall, and we will return home, I hope. To what, only God knows.
I write again from sea, for I find myself disquiet in the waiting. As we worked to board our vessels, we saw longships in the distance, no doubt Hæsteinn's. Though we formed makeshift battle lines on the shore, they sailed further south. Our scouts report that they were seen disembarking upon lands further south from where our siege took place (the name of which I would not know).
It does me no good, no good at all, to think that those ships may have included Tiburge or Cenwulf as plunder. I pray daily for swift wind from the south, that God might carry us with haste again to Britain.
God is good! It is November, and it is good to be in Britain once more. My son has ridden out to meet us at our camp beside Leodis (which we must now reclaim, as it was taken while we were away). He reports that Lindsey and the liege's other lands are untouched, and that Lady Eadyburg's health is returned to her. My wife, also, does well. I thank God for His gracious gift today. I nearly came to tear when I saw Cenwulf riding to me beside Swegn, who had also come to reinforce us. He has matured into an even-tempered young man and I daresay has more the bearing of a knight than I, even as a squire.
Today he shall begin squiring for Petre Crawford, for the man he is now the Knight of Vengeance and it is only fitting that the heir of Æthelbehrt, to whom he was meant to be a squire, take him under his wing. Petre, to his great credit, has agreed; though I take from his tone that he is not overly pleased by it.
Before the siege was joined, some month ago now, some man of Hæsteinn's foolishly tried to rally around a thousand fird against us. My liege lead our smaller, more mobile forces ahead of the man army to intercept them while they yet prepared, and proceeded to lead a battle that led to their utter rout. Now with the host of King Alfonsu beside us, I should think that if Hæsteinn returns, we might face him in open battle. I dread for my son to challenge such a man, even in the squire's role, but such things must one day be. There is no longer any sense in sheltering him.
One more piece of new was brought to us, privily with those who are of my liege's inner circle. Swegn delivered the news personally and the earl seems quite intrigued by his tidings, though I know not what they be.
God keep us as we conclude this conflict. May He see fit to bring victory to Mercia today. And, I suppose, to Wales by that measure.
And so three paths lie before us, which the council currently convenes to discuss. First we might seek to claim Staffordshire, a lowland shire with a bishopric. There we might claim a noteworthy place of worship. Though it be not necessary for Christians to have such a structure, (for in Paul's day they met in the homes of the ecclesia,) such a structure may serve to give Pauline doctrine legitimacy in the eyes of the Anglo-Saxon people. However this seems to be the least of the options the earl is considering for various reasons, among them that Earl Whitræd is not a disagreeable man.
We may seek to claim Derby. This would provide a buffer between our future liege and us, for what little that may do to curb any potential animosity over our faith. However it will also serve to draw his ire upon the house of Arþifanc, which I suppose is not a path the earl desires. Prince Rhodri, though young, is heir apparent to the throne of Wales, and goading him may prove unwise in time future.
Finally, we may await opportunity to pursue conquest of the North Riding, as was the earl's original intent. Ivar the Boneless is no Hæsteinn, but he is a more than formidable foe, as history has proven. Indeed, many thought his rule finished not a decade ago, and now I hear he has risen to claim most of the north by means we in Mercia know not. There is also a church here, currently defiled by pagan rituals, and the land possesses a natural northern barrier by way of hill and forest. It still is not the land of the liege's fathers, but close thereto.
So it is that these three shall be our choice, and we shall see which the earl would choose.
I amend this in the evening to include that the earl has decided to attend a tourney in Francia, hoping he might come to a clear decision on the journey. I shall depart with him, of course, and this time Cenwulf comes with me (for all the knights are attending).
We return, (having arrived too late for the tournament,) and what shock met us. Reeve Sæxbald, our lege's clear-minded marshal, saw opportunity while the liege was away: Vigfús Hæsteinnsson, who ruled the North Riding independently after his father's departure from Britain, put away his wife who was much older than he. It is this wife, (who is Ivar's niece,) by whom Vigfús had alliance with Ivar. When the marriage was broken, so too was the alliance, and Sæxbald seized upon this moment.
Conferring with the lady and receiving her approval, the enterprising reeve set upon this moment with haste, lest young Vigfús attain another mighty ally. By the time we returned, Eoforwic was ready to surrender.
The North Riding is now in Earl Cgeþ's hands, and Hæsteinn's presence in Britain (so far as my knowledge reaches) is no more.
The earl has rewarded the reeve's discretion with high praise, for he agrees with the decision. The North Riding shall soon be in our hands, and I hear tell that while we were away, this was not all the marshal had gotten up to: For he saw to it that those areas missing sheriffs were shored up in number across the East Riding, and indeed that his duties were executed so well that the people of the region have come to shower the liege with respect for his choice of marshal.
Sæxbald has more than proven his value.
It would seem the Earl Cgeþ and Duke Burghred (a title that still feels strange to write) have made amends, and are on quite good terms once more. The duke has even named Lord Cgeþ Master of the Hunt in Mercia, in addition to his role as marshal. He receives quite a stipend for these, and he uses it to make a seneschal out of Ælfswith, the wife of our court tutor and physician Lóeguire.
I finall feel as though the realm is in a comfortable and relatively safe position. I cannot be proud of the work I personally have done in making it so, yet I glory in the labours of my brethren and fellow knights, and of my most able liege. There was a time when the earl held only Nottinghamshire, and was surrounded by vikings and hostile Catholics on all sides. Yet he, by the will of God and the aid of his court, has managed to craft Lindsey into the largest realm inside Mercia's dominion.
Now I shall hope that we can together work to make it more propserous, and pray that God keep us free of foreign threat.
I now will rest.
Occasionally, Cenwulf teases the young lord Leodweard, though not with much aggression. Those times he treats the lord too roughly, young Lady Sæthlinn steps in and finds herself, to my surprise, every bit Cenwulf's equal. Her temper alone gives Cenwulf pause at times, though he never shies to challenge her. I am beginning to suspect he teases the young lord solely because he enjoys scrapping with Sæthlinn. Regardless, it is good to see the Arþifanc siblings get on so well. Even if the young lady oft scolds her brother.
called Petre Crawford. The man is a fighter for true, for we all have tested his sword. It seems to me he is not in command of his humours all too well, but such is the calling of the Knight of Vengeance, I must suppose. Time will tell if he is truly worthy of Æthelberht, but I shall watch him closely to discern the thing for myself.
