The Heavy Crown
Gainsborough, England – October 1133
Eadward sat at his desk in his private chambers making some notes to himself. The year’s yield had been hefty even with so much unrest, and his brother still had wish for building projects though he knew not the worth of them at this heavy moment. There was so much more to consider and the many pages before him told the story. Each was dedicated to one aspect and the more he thought, the longer each page filled with thoughts, notions, ideas or even just his mark of disgust.
He was slightly startled when a soft knock came from a private door to his back, but was happy for the reprieve as his man moved into the room and offered a full bow, “My Lord...you work late into the night.”
“I do...” Eadward turned to Wulfnoth with a sigh, “...many leagues yet before I might find my rest.”
The spymaster gave grin as he pulled down his cowl and showed his neatly shorn face, “You should use better light of candle, my Lord. The more that you may see.”
Eadward gestured for him to take a stool, “Wulfnoth, I am now over fifty years in age. If I do not see it at this late date, then I think to never do so. Come and sit and tell me of what you have found.”
“Where to start?” the wily man took his stool with a pensive face, “…Among all other places, I might ask of you where be the conversation with your brother, the King?”
“It is had often, and that is not why I pay you,” Eadward stood to pour them both some ale, “Your concern is not mine, but mine own is yours. You will then give over what it is that I seek.”
Wulfnoth accepted the cup with a happy nod, “Fair enough, my Lord. I may do more in your service with full knowledge, but here is what I have to say...two things, mainly. One, I think not to worry over your nephew to Wareham nor his help from Kent. The Duke Eadweald does remain young and full of spirit but seems to have no idea where to spend his energy. He gains no true help from Kent as your Duke Æthelmær the Younger does keep with his father’s practices.”
“It was not like Æthelmær the Elder to take to factions,” Eadward frowned as he stood tall with drink in hand.
“Nay, my Lord...” Wulfnoth held up his own with a smile, “...yet I think the Duke of Kent to be a naive and unlearned with the ways of plotting.”
The Prince took his seat once more across from Wulfnoth and held up his cup to knock, “Let us hope that this be true.”
“He continues his time at his father’s pursuits. Building works would be his thing,” the spymaster answered before taking a healthy pull.
Eadward looked to him with a skewed eye, “And my nephew to Wareham?”
“You may ask your sister, my Lord...” Wulfnoth set his cup down, “...but I do not think to find cause for worry in that place. As I say...he is young.”
“I do not have such luxury to be so confident, sir,” Eadward kept a stern brow, “While I think that the war for Glamorgan is soon to be finished, we remain with unrest abounding. Mine own wife was called to put a force out to quell the rebellion within Bedford. And Mercia marches around with their own to counter Derby once more? It is a hot bed and with no slumber to be found.”
Wulfnoth took another slow pull from his drink before calmly placing it down once more, “It is known. I did say to you that I had two things of interest, my Lord. I would save the worst for the last. Your Lady in York...she does try to rise again.”
“What has she done now?!” Eadward asked with a great sigh.
“I did tell you that I thought it wrong to release her, my Lord,” Wulfnoth answered immediately.
Eadward leaned forward, “What is it?”
“She does seem to win her struggle against the Prince Bishop of Durham...” Wulfnoth too sat forward and put his arms to the desk, “...and now, I am told that she would wish the man of Normandy...or Flanders...whichever it is...that is her new goal.”
“Robert of Normandy?!” Eadward stood with shock.
Wulfnoth looked back to his drink, “...or Flanders, if you wish.”
“By God!!” the Prince slammed his hands to the desk and looked up with great frustration, “Would no one rid me of this troublesome woman?!”
The spymaster was quick to rise with his hand upon his dagger, “It could be accomplished with great ease, my Lord. You must only say the word.”
Eadward swiftly raised his hand, “I do not mean that! She is a true born Lady of this realm and surely there is some other way to put her into place!”
Wulfnoth let go of his dagger but looked the Prince squarely in the eyes, “She was at a place, my Lord. And then she was not. If she may plot still, then there is...a remedy.”
“No!” Eadward stepped away from the desk to look out a window at the darkness of the night, “I say again...no. She may be tamed...in some way...somehow.”
“I would then not know it, my Lord,” Wulfnoth answered to his back with a sure eye.
Eadward turned swiftly, “I do not take to murder, sir!”
“You need not...” Wulfnoth offered a serious face, “...others may. It would be clean. Nothing to trace back to you. As you have always done...leave it to my hands.”
“I say to you once more...no!” Eadward stepped closer and Wulfnoth turned round the desk to stand in his face.
“If you do not, my Lord, this Lady will be your death. She will spite you at every turn as she does already and when such time may come she will be your mortal enemy.”
The Prince stood back in some shock, “You are a cruel man, Wulfnoth of Flint!”
“Aye...” the spymaster kept close, “...and I be yours in every way. What then would you have me do?”
Eadward looked to him with some sadness, “Is this how it is done?”
The spymaster took a step back with a more sympathetic eye, “If you wish a strong England, my Lord...if you would wish to find a better place when the time does come...if you think to look after this realm...then this is it.”
“The murder of a great Lord?!”
“Let us not call it murder, my Lord...” Wulfnoth offered a brief bow, “...there are other ways to cause the effect that you may wish. There is reason that you hold me in your employ and I would do as I always do. There shall be no trace that you had anything to do with it. And besides...did this child not already take from us her own father?”
Eadward turned back to look out onto the night, “That has still seen no proof.”
“Her actions since do not seem the likes of an innocent woman,” the spymaster offered.
The Prince kept his mind to the darkness outside for some time, “It is an abomination and whether I do the deed of mine own hand or no...God will know it true.”
“Do you wish security or salvation, my Lord?” his man asked with a flat tone.
Eadward turned quickly with a pained face, “I would wish both, sir! Besides, I do not know that such a thing may provide such security. This would seem to play right into the hands of Mercia, would it not?”
“The Lady does have her young daughter at the now...” the spymaster suggested, “...and the sister still lives. You have said that you get on well with her husband, Duke Gerbert. Mayhap he may be more pliable as regent of that place as he was when his Lady wife was away.”
The Prince Regent looked back to the night and remained silent for a long while before finally allowing an answer, “Then I give you action, sir, but I like it not. Do what you must but make it clean. I should not like this on my conscience more than it already remains. This is a terrible business.”
Wulfnoth offered a deep bow with his reply, “My Lord.”
