Chapter Eleven: Turn the other cheek?
Chapter Eleven: Turn the other cheek?
Aberffraw, April 868
During the march south, Örvar's estimate could be applied just as well to the castles of Appleby and Luneceastir, though the towns were not in the same conditon as Burgh. Ubbe's new seat of power had not fallen through assault, and a few blackened ruins remained as a reminder of that.
Arnfast greeted his þegn in Appleby, and declared that he had Westmorland firmly under control. The new mayor of Lowther had gotten the loyalty of several spies, he said with a wink. The warriors would be able to head into their next battle without having to worry.
Luneceastir was in a somewhat worse state. The county had suffered from Ivar's passage and the battle of Preston, and the assault had left behind few others than the Norsemen. Hardly a Saxon was to be found in the effort of rebuilding, but Norse ships had brought over fortune-seekers from Scandinavia instead. Like Jorvik, it would soon be a Norse town in England. Still, a similar amount of men had to be left behind to control the countryside – in Lúnborg, as the town was now called.
Ubbe then left his lands with nearly 2.100 men, crossing the Mercian county of Chester before entering the rough lands of King Rhodri. Finding no resistance to speak of, he marched on his capital, Aberffraw, where he now laid siege, while his brothers marched on East Anglia.
“Do you think the Welsh will attempt to relieve the siege?”
The eunuch carefully observed the fortification. Unlike with the Great Heathen Army, Ubbe had not ordered to storm the walls. Norse warriors surrounded Rhodri's capital, but most of them were spending their time gambling, only a few watching the walls. Steinn, determined not to let the time go to waste, was training “with those who could use it”. From time to time, the head of a Welsh archer was visible in the distance.
“My þegn, I am a physician, not a strategist.”
Ubbe clapped Gunnarr on the shoulder. “False humility doesn't suit you, my friend. You're smart, and by now you must have learned the essence of command, which is why you are one of my commanders. Besides, I didn't ask for strategic insight, but for your excellent knowledge of humans.”
Gunnarr's eyes lit up. “How I would dread a siege.”
Remembering the eating contest between the physician and his left hand at the last feast, Ubbe couldn't help but nod.
“It is certainly the same for the Welsh. If they see a chance to break it, they will do it. Their king will be forced to attempt relief – but he can only react if he knows it.”
“What he cannot if he's with the Saxons.”
“Was that a reason for attacking Gwynedd now?”
“No. There were many reasons, but evading battle is not one of them. I am not a physician.”
“One can always hope that we can fight another day.”
Ubbe didn't question the eunuch's fighting spirit, but a bit more eagerness wouldn't hurt. Or perhaps he preferred doing something else than tending to wounds – understandable enough. “My brothers have fame, wealth and power. I still have to build this up. The Welsh are not exactly a prime target for raids.”
Thinking of the apparently sparsely populated, rough territory they marched through, Gunnarr agreed as his leader went on. “Their location being an additional reason why few of our ships made their way here. So I will teach them who exactly we are. And at the same time, expand my power and secure my lands.”
“A good decision. Now, let us hope no disease strikes our camp.”
“Another reason why you are here, my friend.”
Gunnarr understood and prepared to check the camp for anything which could cause health problems. Without knowing where Rhodri's army was, or even if his brothers hadn't already crushed him, there was nothing else for Ubbe to do but wait, for as glorious as an assault would be, it wouldn't leave him with many men to continue his pursuit of glory afterwards.
Burgh, July 868
“It seems that people are getting used to your lax treatment”, Inwær explained. “And war always paves the path for opportunists. We Saxons are no exception.”
“Would they prefer being mercilessly hunted down, like they expect it?”
“I am fairly certain that they wouldn't. The good souls in this town may not be happy with the state of things, but they are accepting it at least. Bringing death would just destroy what little trust you have built up over the last months.”
“You see, Örvar, I've told you that we need to take action”, Jorunn said as the left hand was thinking. “If not for Hafrid, you would not even have realized that it is a few peasants who are snatching up my husband's gold right under your nose.”
Her condemning tone was one that he had grown accustomed to, though he wished he hadn't. As Ubbe had asked of him, he had involved his wife in the administration of the conquered lands, but as of now, she had mostly tended to spiritual affairs with Anlaufr, a man she brought with her from Mann. He couldn't shake the feeling that Jorunn wanted him removed.
“Your reliance on Saxons and their priests”, she stared at Inwær, who bowed down in response, “cost us a lot. We would do well to make an example out of them. And Gyrið, you sweet girl, do step out of there!”
She may have tried to conceal her presence, but the young concubine had botched her attempt. Unlike elsewhere, Jorunn very well knew who she was, so her usual tactic to simply appear like any other young woman was destined to fail.
“Shouldn't it be your task to find out things like these?”
“Ubbe asked me to keep my eyes and ears open around here, my lady.”
“And you didn't think that you had to extend your task to fulfil your duty as my husband asked?”
As a response, Gyrið was suddenly fascinated with the movement of her own feet, unable to meet Jorunn's gaze.
“You have a lot to learn. One can't do everything oneself! Hafrid, present your findings.”
The middle-aged woman looked perfectly average, and perhaps this was what made her dangerous. “I disguised myself as one of their priests,” she explained as she produced a nun's habit out of her bag. Inwær's mouth opened in silent protest. “And travelled the land, claiming to have lost my monastery to the heathens, willing to do everything to resist this scourge of God.”
Örvar mumbled something unintelligible. Hafrid smiled, and addressed him directly. “I am not causing trouble. It is because there already is trouble that I acted.” The left hand's surprise left him speechless as she went on.
“It didn't take too long for one peasant to extend a helping hand. There would be many others thinking like me, and they would have banded together in the woods. So I was led to join of these bands, and with the lady's approval, the men raided the forest yesterday. The priests have formed a sort of thieving guild with some peasants, it seems, intending on denying our þegn the income of his subjects' labour.”
Hafrid securely stowed her habit back into her bag, and then left upon a nod of Jorunn. “You see, there is much to gain by employing others.” Gyrið hurried away. “Now, what is there to do to face this problem?”
“Priests are leading this 'thieving guild'? Then we'll have to speak with the seer, Þorbjörn”, Örvar suggested. Now that Jorunn had taken matters into her hands, he thought it wise to leave them there.
“Whatever your seer has to say won't change anything”, Inwær interjected.
And instead of dismissing the Christian's advice, Jorunn nodded. “The time for doing this has passed due to your negligence, Örvar. The priests should have been controlled before, not after.”
“Then we'll have to rely on keeping more intensive watch over them, which means we'll have to spread out the men more. Burgh seems calm enough for us to do it.”
The monk kept silent. “A good idea to say that in front of one of them, Örvar. Who's to say he won't run off and tell his thieving 'brothers'?”
“It can't do any harm. They will notice if there are fewer men anyway. And I trust him.”
Jorunn sneered. “I've noticed that, though I have yet to see something good come from it.”
As he clearly was not welcome right now, Inwær slowly backed away, determined to find that Hafrid woman again. He dreaded the answer, but had to know where she got that nun's habit, or how she learned to speak such a good Saxon that she wasn't recognized as a Norse.
“Thanks to him, I am slowly gaining the trust of the people”, Örvar attempted.
“Do you want trust? How are they to trust us? I thought Ubbe made it clear who ruled here from the moment he entered these lands? That can't be trust you expect!”
The left hand remembered the image of Earl Sæxræd, flayed alive, tied to a post on a hill. He had been unable to look elsewhere until the hill was out of sight. That grim display of power was something he wouldn't get used to. For a moment he thought he would regret it, but then said what she waited for. “Ælla was not a well-liked king, but a cowardly schemer. That is our chance to be better and secure their loyalty.”
Jorunn raised her voice, scolding him like a child welcoming armed strangers with torches. “Are you serious? These men have happily celebrated Ragnarr's execution! These people carry hatred and fear of us in their prayers! If they could, they would drive us out as soon as they could!”
Örvar did his best to remain calm. Just another customer complaining about your wares, claiming that you want too high a price for it. “My lady, this is exactly what I have to change. Gaining trust, showing that we aren't those monsters from the sea, is elemental for that.”
“What a sweet fool you are! It is because of our power that we are still here – and you show them weakness. That it is a good idea to rob us. That someday we'll just disappear again, poor and vexed because nobody wants us!”
“But...”
“No buts! The men captured a few thieves alive. I want them positioned in and around the town, none of them breathing. Heads, bodies on pikes, or flayed like that earl, perhaps their leaders as blood eagles... We need to show strength!
For our future... and that of my son.” She moved her hand to her belly.
A pregnancy wasn't noticeable, but Örvar thought better about it than not to trust her word. Neither would now be a good time to argue. He nodded. “Very well, my lady. I will see to it that the captured thieves will serve as examples.”
Aberffraw, April 868
During the march south, Örvar's estimate could be applied just as well to the castles of Appleby and Luneceastir, though the towns were not in the same conditon as Burgh. Ubbe's new seat of power had not fallen through assault, and a few blackened ruins remained as a reminder of that.
Arnfast greeted his þegn in Appleby, and declared that he had Westmorland firmly under control. The new mayor of Lowther had gotten the loyalty of several spies, he said with a wink. The warriors would be able to head into their next battle without having to worry.
Luneceastir was in a somewhat worse state. The county had suffered from Ivar's passage and the battle of Preston, and the assault had left behind few others than the Norsemen. Hardly a Saxon was to be found in the effort of rebuilding, but Norse ships had brought over fortune-seekers from Scandinavia instead. Like Jorvik, it would soon be a Norse town in England. Still, a similar amount of men had to be left behind to control the countryside – in Lúnborg, as the town was now called.
Ubbe then left his lands with nearly 2.100 men, crossing the Mercian county of Chester before entering the rough lands of King Rhodri. Finding no resistance to speak of, he marched on his capital, Aberffraw, where he now laid siege, while his brothers marched on East Anglia.
“Do you think the Welsh will attempt to relieve the siege?”
The eunuch carefully observed the fortification. Unlike with the Great Heathen Army, Ubbe had not ordered to storm the walls. Norse warriors surrounded Rhodri's capital, but most of them were spending their time gambling, only a few watching the walls. Steinn, determined not to let the time go to waste, was training “with those who could use it”. From time to time, the head of a Welsh archer was visible in the distance.
“My þegn, I am a physician, not a strategist.”
Ubbe clapped Gunnarr on the shoulder. “False humility doesn't suit you, my friend. You're smart, and by now you must have learned the essence of command, which is why you are one of my commanders. Besides, I didn't ask for strategic insight, but for your excellent knowledge of humans.”
Gunnarr's eyes lit up. “How I would dread a siege.”
Remembering the eating contest between the physician and his left hand at the last feast, Ubbe couldn't help but nod.
“It is certainly the same for the Welsh. If they see a chance to break it, they will do it. Their king will be forced to attempt relief – but he can only react if he knows it.”
“What he cannot if he's with the Saxons.”
“Was that a reason for attacking Gwynedd now?”
“No. There were many reasons, but evading battle is not one of them. I am not a physician.”
“One can always hope that we can fight another day.”
Ubbe didn't question the eunuch's fighting spirit, but a bit more eagerness wouldn't hurt. Or perhaps he preferred doing something else than tending to wounds – understandable enough. “My brothers have fame, wealth and power. I still have to build this up. The Welsh are not exactly a prime target for raids.”
Thinking of the apparently sparsely populated, rough territory they marched through, Gunnarr agreed as his leader went on. “Their location being an additional reason why few of our ships made their way here. So I will teach them who exactly we are. And at the same time, expand my power and secure my lands.”
“A good decision. Now, let us hope no disease strikes our camp.”
“Another reason why you are here, my friend.”
Gunnarr understood and prepared to check the camp for anything which could cause health problems. Without knowing where Rhodri's army was, or even if his brothers hadn't already crushed him, there was nothing else for Ubbe to do but wait, for as glorious as an assault would be, it wouldn't leave him with many men to continue his pursuit of glory afterwards.
Burgh, July 868
“It seems that people are getting used to your lax treatment”, Inwær explained. “And war always paves the path for opportunists. We Saxons are no exception.”
“Would they prefer being mercilessly hunted down, like they expect it?”
“I am fairly certain that they wouldn't. The good souls in this town may not be happy with the state of things, but they are accepting it at least. Bringing death would just destroy what little trust you have built up over the last months.”
“You see, Örvar, I've told you that we need to take action”, Jorunn said as the left hand was thinking. “If not for Hafrid, you would not even have realized that it is a few peasants who are snatching up my husband's gold right under your nose.”
Her condemning tone was one that he had grown accustomed to, though he wished he hadn't. As Ubbe had asked of him, he had involved his wife in the administration of the conquered lands, but as of now, she had mostly tended to spiritual affairs with Anlaufr, a man she brought with her from Mann. He couldn't shake the feeling that Jorunn wanted him removed.
“Your reliance on Saxons and their priests”, she stared at Inwær, who bowed down in response, “cost us a lot. We would do well to make an example out of them. And Gyrið, you sweet girl, do step out of there!”
She may have tried to conceal her presence, but the young concubine had botched her attempt. Unlike elsewhere, Jorunn very well knew who she was, so her usual tactic to simply appear like any other young woman was destined to fail.
“Shouldn't it be your task to find out things like these?”
“Ubbe asked me to keep my eyes and ears open around here, my lady.”
“And you didn't think that you had to extend your task to fulfil your duty as my husband asked?”
As a response, Gyrið was suddenly fascinated with the movement of her own feet, unable to meet Jorunn's gaze.
“You have a lot to learn. One can't do everything oneself! Hafrid, present your findings.”
The middle-aged woman looked perfectly average, and perhaps this was what made her dangerous. “I disguised myself as one of their priests,” she explained as she produced a nun's habit out of her bag. Inwær's mouth opened in silent protest. “And travelled the land, claiming to have lost my monastery to the heathens, willing to do everything to resist this scourge of God.”
Örvar mumbled something unintelligible. Hafrid smiled, and addressed him directly. “I am not causing trouble. It is because there already is trouble that I acted.” The left hand's surprise left him speechless as she went on.
“It didn't take too long for one peasant to extend a helping hand. There would be many others thinking like me, and they would have banded together in the woods. So I was led to join of these bands, and with the lady's approval, the men raided the forest yesterday. The priests have formed a sort of thieving guild with some peasants, it seems, intending on denying our þegn the income of his subjects' labour.”
Hafrid securely stowed her habit back into her bag, and then left upon a nod of Jorunn. “You see, there is much to gain by employing others.” Gyrið hurried away. “Now, what is there to do to face this problem?”
“Priests are leading this 'thieving guild'? Then we'll have to speak with the seer, Þorbjörn”, Örvar suggested. Now that Jorunn had taken matters into her hands, he thought it wise to leave them there.
“Whatever your seer has to say won't change anything”, Inwær interjected.
And instead of dismissing the Christian's advice, Jorunn nodded. “The time for doing this has passed due to your negligence, Örvar. The priests should have been controlled before, not after.”
“Then we'll have to rely on keeping more intensive watch over them, which means we'll have to spread out the men more. Burgh seems calm enough for us to do it.”
The monk kept silent. “A good idea to say that in front of one of them, Örvar. Who's to say he won't run off and tell his thieving 'brothers'?”
“It can't do any harm. They will notice if there are fewer men anyway. And I trust him.”
Jorunn sneered. “I've noticed that, though I have yet to see something good come from it.”
As he clearly was not welcome right now, Inwær slowly backed away, determined to find that Hafrid woman again. He dreaded the answer, but had to know where she got that nun's habit, or how she learned to speak such a good Saxon that she wasn't recognized as a Norse.
“Thanks to him, I am slowly gaining the trust of the people”, Örvar attempted.
“Do you want trust? How are they to trust us? I thought Ubbe made it clear who ruled here from the moment he entered these lands? That can't be trust you expect!”
The left hand remembered the image of Earl Sæxræd, flayed alive, tied to a post on a hill. He had been unable to look elsewhere until the hill was out of sight. That grim display of power was something he wouldn't get used to. For a moment he thought he would regret it, but then said what she waited for. “Ælla was not a well-liked king, but a cowardly schemer. That is our chance to be better and secure their loyalty.”
Jorunn raised her voice, scolding him like a child welcoming armed strangers with torches. “Are you serious? These men have happily celebrated Ragnarr's execution! These people carry hatred and fear of us in their prayers! If they could, they would drive us out as soon as they could!”
Örvar did his best to remain calm. Just another customer complaining about your wares, claiming that you want too high a price for it. “My lady, this is exactly what I have to change. Gaining trust, showing that we aren't those monsters from the sea, is elemental for that.”
“What a sweet fool you are! It is because of our power that we are still here – and you show them weakness. That it is a good idea to rob us. That someday we'll just disappear again, poor and vexed because nobody wants us!”
“But...”
“No buts! The men captured a few thieves alive. I want them positioned in and around the town, none of them breathing. Heads, bodies on pikes, or flayed like that earl, perhaps their leaders as blood eagles... We need to show strength!
For our future... and that of my son.” She moved her hand to her belly.
A pregnancy wasn't noticeable, but Örvar thought better about it than not to trust her word. Neither would now be a good time to argue. He nodded. “Very well, my lady. I will see to it that the captured thieves will serve as examples.”
- 1
