The Heavy Crown [Book the Third on the House of Wessex]

[coz1]

Agatha might be a murderer and schemer, but she is still but a young girl, with little experience in the real world. The countess talks without filter, but the young duchess surely needs it.

I suppose there is still time for her to grow and learn, but she starts with extra piss and vinegar so it will be tougher than most.

 

[coz1]

The Heavy Crown​

​

Gainsborough, England – December 1130​

For the first time in a long while, the main hall at Gainsborough had found some use. Where it usually remained dark these days, of late some new cheer was brought back to the keep in the form of the King’s two daughters, Æthelswith and Ælflæda. Eadward thought to use the occasion for a family affair and had invited many to begin the season for the Mass of Christ. However, as soon as planning started, things began to go wrong. At first his sister Mathilda demurred saying that she could not leave Wareham at the now as the young Duke was too deep in his studies. Then Beorhtmaer begged off suggesting that Bath required him through to the spring, though he would send his sons. And finally, the King himself said that he could not come down...he could not bear anyone to see him such a state.

Uhtræd had yet to see his daughters though he wished it mightily. His pain was too much and any notion of light in his chamber caused even more distress. His windows had been boarded up as cloth would no longer do. In many ways, Eadward thought it best that his daughters did not see him in such distress after all that they had been through. The reason for their return and thus this gathering was not altogether wonderful.

Ælflæda at only twenty four was already a widow from her Norwegian Prince and had been living in Meissen at the good graces of her brother since the time of her husband’s death. And the older Princess, Æthelswith, had just recently too lost her own husband. A son of Duke Arnolfo of Ferrara, the young man had been murdered by one of the Duke’s enemies leaving Æthelswith with three young children all of whom were kept as wards by the Duke. Once she showed her face at the court of Meissen, Oscytel had packed them both up and sent them on to their father.

​

So the affair had a rough start. Yet, the Chancellor and Regent pushed ahead in his planning and caused it to be an informal gathering. Due to the absence of the King, there was no high table and no other great Lords or Barons were invited. In truth, there were no tables at all but rather stations of ale and mead and wine, with food here and there such that each might pick at it should they wish. The Prince had called a group of musicians to play for them all as they milled about, but it was a small assembly.

Eadward stood off to the side with ale in hand as he watched the small grouping mingle. Off in one corner was his wife Judith messing about with his youngest daughter’s hair. Hereswith was now ten but remained intrigued by the smallest thing, especially with all of these older cousins about. Æthelric had made the journey as well, but at only five, was sent to bed early. The Prince’s sister Mildrith had also made the progress and helped his wife with a smile Eadward had not seen from her in some time.

And the rest milling about made Eadward think himself an old man such was their youthful cheer. As he watched on, it was clear that Beorhtmaer’s sons were besotted by their German cousins. Thurfrith and Wihtræd seemed joined at the hip with these two exotic beauties and neither of Uhtræd’s daughters spurned their attentions. Young men next to an older, more experienced woman? Eadward could understand. His own daughter Wynnflæd was right there with them as well. Happy to have other ladies of her own age to converse with, she and her husband Eadread shared in the frivolity.

As he looked on with a mixture of happiness and sorrow, Eadward did not notice when his sister slipped to his side, “Could they not be more beautiful, brother?”

Eadward looked to her with a smile, “I would expect nothing less. I have met their mother Adela and though she has too strong a spirit, she herself was a great beauty.”

Mildrith looked on as Beo’s sons invited the Princesses for a dance, “I do mean all of them, brother. Another generation removed from all of our mess. I would so wish for mine own to be here with their cousins to enjoy such a thing.”

“I know that you do,” Eadward looked to her sad face, “I am sure that they be well, sister.”

“And yet, look here...” Mildrith moved a hand to wipe away a slight tear as she smiled, “...two lovely girls that our brother has missed so much. That they be back to his bosom is a thing to be rejoiced.”

Eadward pinched his brow, “He has not yet seen them.”

“I have not seen him either,” she gave nod, “But he will...in time.”

Judith had finally fixed Hereswith’s hair and sent her in to dance with her older cousins and stepped to them with a grin, “What do we speak, old men and ladies?”

Mildrith turned to her with a smile, “My brother does think that the King should see his girls.”

“They are wondrous to look upon,” Judith turned to smile at the girls and then back with another grin, “To see our nephews faces this night, we may all know that the men of England have been found wanting for many years.”

“My Lady, do you not think...” Eadward began to say but Judith held up a gentle hand.

“Husband, the King goes through much at the now and so have these girls. I know that they may wish to look upon him, but the timing must be right. Is it not enough to see them happy and gay?”

Mildrith gave nod, “Our Lady is correct, brother...allow them their fun. Do not spoil what little bit that they may find for they have all been through so much.”

“Outnumbered am I,” Eadward looked to them both with a renewed grin, “We three must be past it all and allow this new lot to take our place.”

Judith smiled as she looked at them all dancing, “A fine lot they are, too. We may do worse.”

Eadward gave nod as he too watched them. Thurfrith and Wihtræd took turns with each of the Princesses and showed that their martial spirit was not merely spent on the battlefield as they each moved gracefully. Though the younger Princess Ælflæda seemed more standoffish, she still allowed her smiles and the older Æthelswith laughed with delight at each turn around the room. Perhaps his wife and sister were correct not to want to disrupt their good time. Yet, the thought niggled at his mind.

As the night wore on, there was more dancing...Beo’s sons had even convinced Eadward to take a turn with Judith...and there was more meat and ale and wine...but finally when the hour grew late, Eadward found need to excuse himself as he moved to his wife, “We should all be to bed soon, but I must needs see to something first. I shall return.”

Soon became longer and none of the youthful cousins seemed to mind as they continued in their cheer and revelry. But eventually, Eadward returned to the hall and stepped to the two girls, “My fine Princesses...I hope that you have had a lovely evening.”

“Sehr gut!” Æthelswith said in a heavy German tongue as she smiled and the younger Ælflæda leaned into her with a grin, “She says very good, uncle.”

“I know it well,” Eadward looked to them both, “We shall all have to brush up on our languages in the coming future.”

Æthelswith offered a playful frown, “I have been speaking in your English for many years.”

“Yet not very well,” Ælflæda teased her older sister.

Thurfrith stood by and offered, “They neither need speak our tongue, uncle, for their beauteous nature speaks far more than words.”

Eadward gave him a smile and then turned back to the girls, “I am pleased to have shown you such a fine night and before we move off, I have one more surprise.”

Wihtræd stood behind little Hereswith and grabbed at her shoulders with a grin, “Mayhap it is a dancing bear!”

As she giggled, Eadward took on a more serious face, “I think it time that you both see your father.”

A hush came over the hall as every member there knew the import of such a thing. Judith shifted to Eadward’s side, “Do you be certain, husband?”

“I do,” Eadward answered as he looked from her back to the two girls, “The King is filled with sorrow that he may not take part in this joy, but he would wish to share with you some part of this evening. I have just spoken to him. If you would come with me, we shall see to him soon.”

Æthelswith took on a joyful face even though tears began to flow, “Oh uncle...danke.”

“Ja bitte,” Ælflæda was quick to follow, “We have missed him so.”

“As he has missed you both,” Eadward turned and gestured for them to follow.

Uhtræd’s daughters were led from the hall leaving the rest of the party to carry on and they made their way to the solar. It was dark with very few candles lit and both girls seemed suspect. They did not have to wait long, however, as soon the doors opened and Uhtræd was pushed in on a wheeled chair by the Lady Maud. His face was covered by a mask to keep out any light and he looked frail and feeble.

Both Æthelswith and Ælflæda rushed to him and dropped to their knees to grasp at his body and he winced in some pain, but he did reach out his hands to brush at their hair and feel them for the first time in many years. If one looked closely, they would have seen his own tears flowing from under the mask as he could only find the words, “My...sweet girls.”

Æthelswith stayed by his knee but Ælflæda stood and dropped back with concern, “Father...what has happened to you?”

“I am...much changed,” Uhtræd could only answer.

“We all are, father,” Æthelswith looked up to him with sadness, “And yet it is so fine to look upon you after so long.”

Uhtræd brushed at her hair with his hand, “I wish I may do the same but my affliction...it is good that you are here. How be your brother?”

“He too is changed,” Ælflæda said quickly as she looked with pity on her father, “He would wish us no more in Meissen.”

“And happy are we to have you here with us,” Eadward stepped forward to answer with a smile.

“My brother is correct,” Uhtræd made struggle to reach out a hand so that his youngest daughter might take it, “It has been too long without you and my heart swells at your coming. Did you find the journey a hardship?”

Ælflæda stepped forward to take his hand, “There are strange customs here that we know not, but to be by your side...”

“After everything...” Æthelswith continued, “...I care not what fremdheit is found. I am...glücklich...happy. Mother has her...trial...and Oscytel...”

“Our brother wishes us not, father,” Ælflæda followed as she looked with some scorn to Lady Maud, “...and mother...her trial is over. I think not that she does well.”

Uhtræd stretched out to grasp at them both, even in his pain, “I was sad to hear of it, but I be certain that she loves you still.”

“She would love us as much as she may,” Ælflæda answered.

Æthelswith held her father’s hand, “And we love you! Father...it would see us so much joy to bring you back to health. It has been too long without your affection. May we not...freut euch des lebens?”

“I may hope it, daughter,” Uhtræd lovingly held her head in his hand, “I am sorry to not be the man that you once knew, but...my spirits are greatly lifted by your presence. I hope that you may find your way in this world of ours.”

“I be certain that they may,” Eadward stood forward, “And I believe that it is time for His Grace to find his rest.”

Uhtræd moved to hold out a hand, “Not as yet, brother...”

Eadward smiled at the two girls as he looked to the King, “Your Grace...it is late. There will be time enough to enjoy their company come the morrow.”

Both of them looked to Eadward with sad eyes and Uhtræd dropped his hand, “You are right, brother...we must all needs be to bed. I shall be comforted with knowledge that my ladies are now with me.”

“We are, father,” Æthelswith was quick to say.

Ælflæda followed just as soon, “We are here, father.”

Uhtræd reached out his hands to grasp at them both, “You may not know the joy that I feel at the now...but I am happy.”

​

 

[stnylan]

A rather poignant, and painful, meeting. Family is something Uhtræd has been so long denied, and now it is only granted to him in the depths of his condition. There is a cruelness of fate there.

 

[Idhrendur]

That was touching.

And if we ever thought English politics were a bloody affair, it seems the continent continues to be worse.

 

[coz1]

Fb-fb:

A rather poignant, and painful, meeting. Family is something Uhtræd has been so long denied, and now it is only granted to him in the depths of his condition. There is a cruelness of fate there.

Isn't it? Cruel is perhaps the better word for it than just simply ironic. It was a surprise to me when it happened in-game and I could not pass up the chance to focus on it. As well, this new wrinkle will play into events coming up so it worked great for the story as well.

That was touching.

And if we ever thought English politics were a bloody affair, it seems the continent continues to be worse.

I thought so too, sir. I was not sure how to get to this meeting (finally) which is why the bulk of the scene takes place prior to. Yet once it did happen, well...I will not deny a few wet eyes were had in this house.

And indeed, Italian politics was and will ever remain fraught with peril. One wonders why Adela spent so much time marrying off her children to such a clan (as much as we might have enjoyed good old Duke Arnolfo back in the day.)


To all - Thank you both for the comments and I am sure more will be forthcoming. Before they do, allow me head off one possible niggle if it should occur to someone...I do not speak German (I know only some few phrases) so if it is used improperly, I beg apologies. I did my best to try and get it right but I am certain that some of it comes across as clumsy. I wanted and needed to show that the daughters were foreigners for obvious reasons. Also why the update ends with the culture map. You might notice that Lancaster and Leicester have joined Essex and Kent in the English culture.

And while I might like to wait for other comments to come in, I have spent the morning plotting out through to 1135 (just wait for it, folks...some big doings coming up!) I remain wishing to account for my readers time, but at the same moment I have far outpaced my posting schedule with my writing schedule. I am two years ahead of you in my scenes at the moment and as the next follows (somewhat) cleanly after this with a bit of the same theme, I will post the next in just a moment. It will not happen often, but I am keen to move forward, and when appropriate, I may do so from time to time. I promise that it will not happen too much but when I have chance, I may move swiftly on so we may get to that place that I wish to get to. It is pretty big, so...bear with me as we moved towards it.

I thank you always for your generous and always insightful comments and I hope to continue to see them as we move forward to this moment. I would not mind getting some few new readers as well, but I know that by this point, the story is rather long. If you are reading, I would love to hear what you think. And if I am moving too fast for some, I apologize but the story will out. I have so much material and sometimes I just cannot wait to publish it.

And finally, allow me one more plug for the 2017 YAYA's. Four voters so far and as one of the more active subforums (and the very best readers) I know that you all would have some killer votes. Head over, if you would. Just two more weeks to vote so get them in.

 

[coz1]

The Heavy Crown​

​

Hereford, England – January 1131​

“The little brat!” Wulfrun shouted as she paced back and forth in her hall, “Barely has her teats in and she thinks she may play with the rest of us?!”

The only poor soul to bear witness to her tirade was her Earl Hlothere, “It was wise to back away when you did, my Lady. I did not have notion that your cousin might find such spurious counsel.”

Wulfrun turned to him with scorn covering her face, “That old woman has never let go of the idea that she might be Queen. She thought she was marrying a Prince and heir in her Lord Cearl. My grandfather had other ideas!”

Hlothere offered a brief nod, “As did his brother, Morcar the King.”

“Speak not of that Hwiccian line, sir...for I am sick to death of them!” the Lady shouted once more as she moved to find a cup of ale.

Her master of spies was quiet as she poured herself a cup and drank it partially down before turning back to him with anger still, “You call him Morcar the King? I would call him Morcar the drunken fool! He let the Bastard get away and lost his son because of it. Both sons, really! And my dear cousin? Tell me again what this Wulfnoth of Flint suggests to you?”

Lord Hlothere was measured in his response, “The man does think it some foul play, my Lady.”

“By this little bitch?!” Wulfrun was unimpressed.

“I suppose there is that possibility,” Hlothere shrugged, “Yet, there may have been others that wished him gone from that place.”

She wrinkled her brow, “I have always thought it odd...how he passed so suddenly after such a minor accident.”

“It was not as minor as that, my Lady,” Hlothere suggested, “The Lord was severely injured.”

Wulfrun scoffed, “Still...some broken bones...a poor head...he should have recovered in time.”

Hlothere gave nod once more, “Aye. I may agree there.”

The Duchess took down the rest of her ale and shifted to pour more as she called out, “Mayhap it was Lady Æthelflæd. She has had her desire to hold the Duchy of Northumberland for many years. Get rid of the tried and true...if you may call my cousin such...and try anew with the younger lot. Not a poor plan.”

“There are no lack of plots within York these days, my Lady,” Hlothere answered quickly, “You mention Morcar the...your grandfather’s brother...and he did not lose all of his sons. There remains one.”

​

Wulfrun turned to him with a sudden smile, “Really? Do tell.”

Hlothere stepped closer, “The Prince Ælfmær has lived in exile for some many years now. He is a man of middling age and has found himself a Bishopric in Melrose. Though he claims to be Godly, at the now he finds himself Marshal to the Earl at Teviotdale in Scotland.”

“And what does he think to do with his Bishop’s robes and his sword,” she asked with a wicked grin.

“It would seem...” Hlothere lowered his head, “...from the words that I have heard...this Bishop would like to find his way home and perchance relieve his young relative of her duty at the now.”

Wulfrun was not so much shocked as intrigued, “He would see Agatha put away and himself in her place?”

“If he may,” Hlothere answered with a nod, “Though I very much doubt that this Ælfmær can.”

“Then more power to him, I say,” Wulfrun pinched her brow and began to pace once more. She sipped at her ale for a time before turning back to her man with an apologetic face, “It occurs to me that I should have listened to you some time ago.”

Hlothere offered a slight bow, “You may listen to me always, my Lady, but your word is always sound.”

Wulfrun stepped to him with a serious eye, “I still find great concern over the future, sir...especially now with the King’s young daughters coming to these shores and finding it so difficult to blend in...what may happen when a son may come?”

“I am told that these Princesses are found to be a delight,” Hlothere suggested with care.

She kept a shrewd eye, “For His Grace, mayhap, and yet a harbinger of what may be.”

Hlothere looked to her deeply, “To remove your worry has been my goal, always...since you were but a young child. I have looked into these ideas for Osric in Gloucester and found few wanting in their endeavors...none really but your cousin to York and her Lady. As I say to you...wise that you step away from that and poor that Agatha of York still finds need to pick it up. And yet...there may be another road to travel if you would still wish to find your control.”

“Your counsel is always that which I wish most dearly, my Lord,” Wulfrun stepped closer.

Her master of spies was careful as he spoke, “The Hwiccian tree does begin to grow fallow in York, my Lady. At this date, there is naught but two girls...this Agatha and her young sister Isabella, who is only but two summers.”

“And this Bishop Ælfmær,” Wulfrun was quick to suggest.

Hlothere gave nod, “There is he...but I say to you...let him do what he will. An unlanded man of Teviotdale would find the ducal seat rather harsh should he achieve it. Especially if there is no other to pick it up…”

Wulfrun’s eyes grew wide, “Do you suggest what I think you suggest, sir?”

“You may never be the Queen of this realm, my Lady,” Hlothere looked to her with deadly seriousness, “Yet you are the strongest Lord on this island. You may be stronger still should you inherit...more.”

“Good God, Hlothere!” Wulfrun found wider eyes still, “The entirety of the north...can you imagine it?”

He found a slight smile, “You need not know of the planning of it, my Lady. All I require is your assent and I would do my work for you in every way.”

Wulfrun turned quickly as she thought of the ramifications, “Still...a child. Two children...”

“Was that not how the House of Wessex gained their throne at the now?” he asked.

She turned back to him with a pensive face, “It was their rightful throne...truly.”

Hlothere kept still and raised his head with some pride, “And a strong Lord...or Lady of Hwicce should rule in Mercia and York.”

The Duchess was still unsure as she looked to her master of spies, her eyes full of worry. Wulfrun was still young, only in her thirties. She had two lovely daughters and was close to the crown of Scotland through her husband. The idea of the entirety of the north was too much to pass up for such an ambitious woman. And what may come after when the King…? She did not wish to think on it, for she still found great affection for him. And yet…

Wulfrun offered a quick nod before finishing her ale knowing full well what her decision meant.

​

 

[Bullfilter]

Well, these women of the north are a murderous lot. Though it should probably have been Agatha first - suppose she has to start somewhere! On the previous chapter, I had thought it might be set up that the morrow would never come for the King and he had just effectively had a last bittersweet hale and farewell with his daughters - but it seems he clings on yet. But things must come to a head soon, as this stasis can only be temporary.

 

[stnylan]

Well now, one cannot doubt her ambition.

I wonder how we shall name this - the Cousins' Feud perhaps? (not very original I know, but mayhap fitting).

There does seem to be something very .. brash still, about Wulfrun. One wonders how different she would have been if her father had lived longer.

 

[JabberJock14]

Oh ho ho! Now there's the CK2 I know and love, throwing up a good murder plot that nicely slots in with the story.

I was wondering how close Wulfrun's husband is from inheriting Scotland. That would be... quite the danger for House Wessex if the lands went to her child, only to have that child inherit the Scottish crown and take most of England with it.

On the chapter before, a touching scene with with the daughters both displaying their German heritage but their love for their father. Though, their troubling words involving Oscytel - perhaps this is the author throwing us further hints that he is not fit to rule by turning back on family? Something the Wessex clan, for all their flaws, have not done.

Well, I say that but then there's Beo. Troubling with that as well.

 

[Specialist290]

A bittersweet homecoming for the King's family.

Something that leaped out to me:

Æthelswith offered a playful frown, “I have been speaking in your English for many years.”

(Emphasis added.) The use of your English there just underlines the fact that England is an unfamiliar land to them, despite their Anglo-Saxon names. It must be rough to be cast adrift in an unfamiliar land, at the mercy of relative strangers (even though those strangers are technically family...).

And the old Hwicce rivalry is alive and fratricidal as ever. Wulfrun undoubtedly has the advantages of experience and a better capacity for long-term planning -- but we have yet to see how Agatha reacts when she's truly backed into a corner.

 

[coz1]

Fb-fb:

Well, these women of the north are a murderous lot. Though it should probably have been Agatha first - suppose she has to start somewhere! On the previous chapter, I had thought it might be set up that the morrow would never come for the King and he had just effectively had a last bittersweet hale and farewell with his daughters - but it seems he clings on yet. But things must come to a head soon, as this stasis can only be temporary.

The thinking on the plot on York is perhaps more that this Prince Æflmær might take care of Agatha while Mercia works on the other sister and thus paves a path for Wulfrun. It is still a far cry, but the Lady of Mercia is gaining more ambition by the day to challenge her younger cousin.

Well now, one cannot doubt her ambition.

I wonder how we shall name this - the Cousins' Feud perhaps? (not very original I know, but mayhap fitting).

There does seem to be something very .. brash still, about Wulfrun. One wonders how different she would have been if her father had lived longer.

Cerdic was not much, but it might have tempered her somewhat. Perhaps if Eadwin had lived longer and had chance to teach her up a bit more. But no, Wulfrun does not lack for ambition.

Oh ho ho! Now there's the CK2 I know and love, throwing up a good murder plot that nicely slots in with the story.

I was wondering how close Wulfrun's husband is from inheriting Scotland. That would be... quite the danger for House Wessex if the lands went to her child, only to have that child inherit the Scottish crown and take most of England with it.

On the chapter before, a touching scene with with the daughters both displaying their German heritage but their love for their father. Though, their troubling words involving Oscytel - perhaps this is the author throwing us further hints that he is not fit to rule by turning back on family? Something the Wessex clan, for all their flaws, have not done.

Well, I say that but then there's Beo. Troubling with that as well.

I will have a bit as part of an update soon that discusses the Scottish situation a little better, but let us just say that he is an heir but perhaps not the heir to the Scottish throne. Godfrey is the middle child of King Andrew but not the most championed, we might say. However, if Wulfrun's plot should will out, she might be in a much better position to prop up her husband when that time came.

And a fine point on Oscytel. That the girls were sent to England and their father within game was quite useful for the story, no doubt.

A bittersweet homecoming for the King's family.

Something that leaped out to me:



(Emphasis added.) The use of your English there just underlines the fact that England is an unfamiliar land to them, despite their Anglo-Saxon names. It must be rough to be cast adrift in an unfamiliar land, at the mercy of relative strangers (even though those strangers are technically family...).

And the old Hwicce rivalry is alive and fratricidal as ever. Wulfrun undoubtedly has the advantages of experience and a better capacity for long-term planning -- but we have yet to see how Agatha reacts when she's truly backed into a corner.

Good catch on Æthelswith's line. I put that in there on purpose to show that very thing (likewise, their use of some German.) I thought it a good mix with the cultural advance as well as a hint to things possibly to come, as Wulfrun alludes to her in her scene.

And Agatha's response will be...Agatha-like.


To all - The next scene will follow tomorrow and after that we are about to take another little tour around the countryside. Lots of places to visit and people to see, don't you know. I think you will like what I have cooked up with a number of places. What are we working on now...two, three plots all working at once? It does not end soon. I certainly hope you enjoy. And as always, thank you so much for your excellent comments. It makes the writing of this work that much more enjoyable.

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

Ah, another reason why having powerful vassals (provided you have a Crownwall yourself [tm]) is best in CKII. Much easier to keep track of, much easier to marshal troops...and they will eat each other alive before they work together to fight you.

Curiously enough, it could be argued that the opposite was true in actual English hsitory. Southern lords were more numerous, ruled much smaller parcels of land and yet were close enough to the court and king that they were influential and could be influenced. In the north, home of mega dukes and huge private kingdoms...well, they were either powerful enough that they became king themselves (and thus spent all their time in the south at court, handling the southern lords) or not powerful enough but still far too much for the king to idly let them be.

In this game though...well, in universe anyway, if the entire north is unified under one family, they will become the ruler of England. No question about it. In fact, they'll be almost untouchable powerful because with those two duchies (and half the kingdom) under their private thumb and all of it outside of the traditional centres of power and families in the south, even if literally everyone rose up against them they'd win. What with the reforms being undertaken by the weak but popular Wessex ruling family, if the house could centralise crown authority, these new rulers would rule absolutely and have legal precedence for doing so. If one family could unify the north nd keep their lands together, so many interesting things would happen. No parliament, a flip of power from London and Winchester to York and Lancaster, a change from expanding into France to almost certainly affirming ties with Scotland and invading Ireland, and, most of all, an affirmation of Saxon and Scandinavian culture over the intermixing Norman, German and 'english' stuff brewing in the southern mixing pot (remember also that the harrowing of the north did not happen in this universe and that because of hwicce success and stability as well as duchy size, and that the south east has been invaded and fought over in at least half a dozen major conflicts over the past half century that the majority of the population of England can probably be found in Mercia, Lancaster and York right now.)

 

[Nikolai]

Truly dark times. And CK2y. Dangerous prospects for the Crown, though. The Prince Regent needs to take some kind of action, I think.

 

[coz1]

Fb-fb:

Ah, another reason why having powerful vassals (provided you have a Crownwall yourself [tm]) is best in CKII. Much easier to keep track of, much easier to marshal troops...and they will eat each other alive before they work together to fight you.

Curiously enough, it could be argued that the opposite was true in actual English hsitory. Southern lords were more numerous, ruled much smaller parcels of land and yet were close enough to the court and king that they were influential and could be influenced. In the north, home of mega dukes and huge private kingdoms...well, they were either powerful enough that they became king themselves (and thus spent all their time in the south at court, handling the southern lords) or not powerful enough but still far too much for the king to idly let them be.

In this game though...well, in universe anyway, if the entire north is unified under one family, they will become the ruler of England. No question about it. In fact, they'll be almost untouchable powerful because with those two duchies (and half the kingdom) under their private thumb and all of it outside of the traditional centres of power and families in the south, even if literally everyone rose up against them they'd win. What with the reforms being undertaken by the weak but popular Wessex ruling family, if the house could centralise crown authority, these new rulers would rule absolutely and have legal precedence for doing so. If one family could unify the north nd keep their lands together, so many interesting things would happen. No parliament, a flip of power from London and Winchester to York and Lancaster, a change from expanding into France to almost certainly affirming ties with Scotland and invading Ireland, and, most of all, an affirmation of Saxon and Scandinavian culture over the intermixing Norman, German and 'english' stuff brewing in the southern mixing pot (remember also that the harrowing of the north did not happen in this universe and that because of hwicce success and stability as well as duchy size, and that the south east has been invaded and fought over in at least half a dozen major conflicts over the past half century that the majority of the population of England can probably be found in Mercia, Lancaster and York right now.)

It would be quite a coup if Wulfrun can accomplish it. That remains a big IF. You make very good points and eventually Eadward and the King will need to determine the correct course of action to deter such a thing. We'll see if they can.

Truly dark times. And CK2y. Dangerous prospects for the Crown, though. The Prince Regent needs to take some kind of action, I think.

Eadward has a few tricks up his sleeve and I am sure he hopes Uhtræd does still as well. This next scene may determine if that is so or not.

 

[coz1]

The Heavy Crown​

​

Gainsborough, England – February 1131​

Though it was a cold day outside the keep, the sun was shining brightly in the sky and melting the recent snows so the King was moved to the solar to gain some well needed air and color to his skin. His mask was ever tight to keep the light from his eyes but he seemed to nap comfortably until Eadward walked in to meet with him.

“Brother? Do I disturb you?” the Prince Regent asked with trepidation.

Uhtræd shifted only slightly in his wheeled chair and tried to turn his head, “Is it nightfall already? It still feels warm to me.”

Eadward held in a sigh as he knew well that with the mask, the King lost track of time very easily, “No brother...do you not recall? We were to meet after the noon bell.”

“Ah yes...I must have missed it in my slumber just now,” Uhtræd lowered his head.

“It is no matter,” Eadward waved it away, “Are you feeling better this day?”

As if he was blind, the King tried to turn his head to the sound of Eadward’s voice, “Well in heart if not in body. I had chance to spend some bit of time with little Ælflæda yesterday. You know that she is nearly twelve summers old now?”

“Brother...your daughter Ælflæda is twice that age at the now,” Eadward tried to gently correct him, “Mayhap you mean your Hextilda?”

Uhtræd turned his head forward slowly and stayed quiet for a moment before answering, “Yes...yes, of course. Hextilda. Mother would have liked her.”

Eadward gave nod as he found a stool to sit by the King, “That be true as she was always fond of her ladies at court and her Lady Maud was special to her. I think that she would be overjoyed to see your older daughters, do you not?”

“There may be no doubt,” Uhtræd answered him with some sadness, “I too wish that I may look upon them...it has been so many years.”

“Brother, they both be fair and lovely,” Eadward kindly offered, “In appearance and in nature. Their smiles since they have come to us have been renewed more and more each day and I be certain that it is much due to being by your side once again.”

Uhtræd turned his head only slightly, “Æthelswith has been very kind, and helpful to me I might say, yet I do note a certain tone with...with Ælflæda.”

“She had spent more time with your son after she was widowed,” Eadward offered, “And as she was so young when you found your chair, she may hold a bitterness.”

“Against me?” Uhtræd asked in a worried tone.

Eadward smiled, “Against Adela, her mother I be certain.”

The King slowly rested his head against the back of his chair as he remained silent for a time. He finally moved to reach out a hand and find Eadward’s with a grimace to his mouth, “Is there still so little word from Meissen?”

The Prince Regent lowered his head as he was quick to grasp at Uhtræd’s hand, “I have had no word from Prince Oscytel since my letter sent to him this summer past. I am sorry to say it, but I think him too busy ruling in his mother’s stead.”

“He would rather rule in hers than mine,” Uhtræd suggested with great sorrow.

Eadward pinched his brow in response, “It would seem so.”

Uhtræd found some strength as he tried to clinch at his brother’s hand, “Then I shall send him word myself. You will take it down for me and help me affix my name and seal.”

“I shall do as you wish,” Eadward held down another sigh, “Mayhap it may alter his mind.”

“Good...good...” Uhtræd replied as he let his hand go limp and rested his head once more.

Eadward let go of the King’s hand and stood to pour himself a cup of ale. He drank it down slowly before he turned back to look on Uhtræd, “Of other import, I come bearing news on these latest plots, brother.”

Uhtræd offered his own sigh, “Morcar? What has this Lord done now?”

“It is Agatha...his daughter,” Eadward corrected him once more, “You do recall that Morcar of York has passed, brother?”

The King jerked his head with pain, “Of course...that is how father gained us the throne!”

Eadward could not help but sigh this time, “That was Morcar the King...this be his grandson’s daughter...Agatha. She is but a young Lady and your Duchess at the now and still finds need to look at plots along with her cousin.”

“Then send off some gold and tell her that we love her,” Uhtræd answered quickly, “Lady Wulfrun always finds her response to that.”

“I do not think that it is our Lady of Mercia that should cause worry, brother,” Eadward attempted to explain, “Rather, it is the young Lady in York along with her Countess that gives pause.”

Uhtræd tried to turn his head in his confusion, “The old woman?”

“Yes...” Eadward gave nod, “...Lady Æthelflæd of Northumberland. Our Lord Harold has proved his worth and brought us back news from that place that this faction for Osric of Gloucester does still grow. He is mighty sore with his uncle, but when confronted with it, the man seemed to have little idea.”

“It is a play within a play within a play...” Uhtræd rested his head once more, “...and all with too many actors.”

Eadward gave a slight nod, “It is a mummer’s farce if you would ask me...yet, what to do?”

Uhtræd coughed with some pain before he answered, “I told you...give over the gold. Find some way to bind her to us.”

“To Lady Agatha?” Eadward tried to make sure his brother was speaking clearly.

“Yes!” Uhtræd found a forceful response, “To Agatha! The Duchess of York at the now!”

​

Eadward stepped to him, “You need not exert yourself too much...”

“Apparently I do!” Uhtræd answered quickly, “If you are to be my Regent, then you would handle this. If you would know what I would do, then I tell you...bind her to us...gold, title...it matters not. Find some way!”

“You should calm yourself brother,” Eadward was concerned, “It does you naught but ill to get too excited.”

Uhtræd tried to find a smile, “And yet it is good all the same...come there...give me some of that ale that you have been sipping.”

“You need not that, brother...” Eadward tried to say but the King stopped him.

“I would have it...if but a small drink. Allow me my moment.”

Eadward moved to him and tipped over the cup gently while the King drank down a goodly amount before Uhtræd sighed with a happy expression at his lips, “That is fine.”

“You would need no more,” Eadward stepped back with concern.

Uhtræd found a full smile for but a moment, “Nay...that is all that is required. And now that I have done so, I will send you to Hereford to treat with our Lady Wulfrun.”

“You mean to York with Agatha,” Eadward replied with certainty.

“No sir...” Uhtræd rested his head again and allowed another slight smile, “...I do mean with our Lady of Mercia. You may think me feeble and addled at the now, and it may be so from time to time...and yet...look to the field, Eadward. As you come to the battle line and find two powerful and important men before you, you may always play one off of the other. Each would wish their moment of glory and would hate to see another take it from him. Disruption in the ranks, sir. Look to it always.”

Eadward now found a smile, “There is disruption in Derby at the now...another flock of heretics in Mercia.”

​

“There it is...” Uhtræd was quick to reply, “...you may send in Beo’s sons once again and show our Lady that we will protect her. Thus, she is bound. And a gift to this one from York? You will see. It is a constant game and one I tire of playing. Yet...it must be played. Not only for myself...but for my son.”

Eadward gave nod, “Then I will go to Hereford after this gift is sent to York and see what may be seen.”

“And no longer trouble me this day,” Uhtræd found a sleepy voice, “Go and do what you will. I trust in you, sir.”

 

[stnylan]

So the House of Wessex seeks to bind one half of Hwicce to them ... somehow I think that money might be better spent.

A little fire out of Uhtræd still, but he remains a broken man. One can feel it.

 

[Idhrendur]

Uhtræd does seem to be fading mentally. Not a good sign. At least he still works the diplomacy, even if I think he would be better served with some force at this point in his reign.

 

[Specialist290]

The thing that hit me most about this update is how even the simple pleasures we take for granted are out of reach for Uhtræd, in some ways quite literally. It must be especially hard on him not to be able to properly enjoy a sunny day. I remember how we would occasionally see him strolling around his castle grounds with Maud on a lovely spring morning, and though it was never really touched on as such in the narrative I imagine he was quite fond of the occasional leisurely stroll when he wasn't attending to matters of state.

The King's mind may be addled from time to time, but in his lucid moments his wit remains sharp. The House of Hwicce has broken many a king in the past -- let us hope Uhtræd and his heirs don't end up joining their number.

 

[Asantahene]

I found this a most touching scene not least because of how you balanced the king’s diminishing cognitive functions with bouts of razor sharp lucidity. Expertly done.

As for the family chapter with his 2 German daughters, that was a goodly reminder that he has sired a family of foreigners. An omen of things to come methinks.

And Wulfrun, O Wulfrun. Methinks she will bring great sorrow to the weal of the realm and has kinda been gearing up for such throughout her life...

 

[Idhrendur]

The thing that hit me most about this update is how even the simple pleasures we take for granted are out of reach for Uhtræd, in some ways quite literally. It must be especially hard on him not to be able to properly enjoy a sunny day. I remember how we would occasionally see him strolling around his castle grounds with Maud on a lovely spring morning, and though it was never really touched on as such in the narrative I imagine he was quite fond of the occasional leisurely stroll when he wasn't attending to matters of state.

That's true. How very sad.