1177-1180 A Groom for Hextilda
Time marched on for a few years with little of note happening. England and Northumbria were at peace, no wars being fought or even in the offing. Alba (or Scotland) had proved to be of little threat as its internal squabbles prevented it from doing much in the 25 years since King Olaf freed England from Scotland’s rule. King Domnall V and his son, Prince Ernán, were both dead, and the throne was now in the hands of a 4-year old Welsh child, Ernan’s son and Domnall’s grandson, King Steffen ab Ernán of Scotland. And, as has been the case for most of my reign, a war was already being fought to unseat the boy. It was no longer as pressing for me to push into Ireland.
My kinswoman, the Duchess Wynnflæd had been victorious in her war against the heathen Dhunnunid Sultanate and added Plasencia to the Duchy of Coimbra. Her husband, however, Duke Suibne Gilla-Christez of León, had been taken prisoner while helping the King of Castille against the rebellious Duke of Portucale and was waiting to be ransomed.
To the east, another of my kinsmen, Duke Udo II of Frisia, was trying to recover from wounds he had suffered in battle. He held the Duchies of Frisia and Upper Lorraine, which would be split between his two daughters if he failed to recover. The eldest, Romilda of Bamburgh would receive the Duchy of Frisia. She was married to Meginhard von Julichgau, and had already born two children and was expecting a third. All three children were/would be part of House Bamburgh (while they inherited Romilda’s House, luckily, the first two at least, had inherited their father’s looks). The younger daughter, Richwara, would inherit the Duchy of Upper Lorraine. She was married to Tas of Brno, a Czech knight. They had one child already, a son of House Brno, named Ojíř after his great-grandfather, meaning Upper Lorraine would pass from House Bamburgh in the future.
To the north, Teviotdale, so long the heart of the Bamburgh dynasty in Scotland, faced the same fate, it too would pass from our dynasty, from House Bamburgh-Kelso. Countess Sibyl had married Fuirechtach Conchobair, and now their son Ainbchellach Conchobair was heir to Teviotdale. Earl Bride of Lanarkshire was now tasked with carrying on the Bamburgh-Kelso name through his two surviving sons. His heir, Tydy Bamburgh-Kelso, already had a 9-year old daughter, Galiena, to carry on for another generation while Bride’s younger son, Meirion, was still a boy of 12. Bride’s middle son, Anllech, had died at 17 in one of my wars before he had a chance to have any children.
The petty Kingdom of Leinster’s inheritance was secure within the dynasty. King Sigeberht had two strong young sons to carry on the family name, though neither Rogellach nor Fergal had any children yet.
In Northumbria, there was little to report. Bishop Balthere had succeeded in ridding the County of Lindsey of the Insular heresy. Next, I had sent him to the Isle of Man to deal with the heretics there. My Marshal, Earl Wulfnoth was already working to exert control over the population on the island. The new keep in Carleol had been completed in Cumbraland, making it a formidable defensive position.
Wulfnoth, the Earl of the North Riding, held a feast which I attended. I met his four sons, a new generation of Bamburghs. The oldest boy was Wiglaf, 14 years old and already betrothed to a woman twice his age, named Emma de Besancom. I was unsure why my cousin would tie his son and heir to this French woman. After Wiglaf, there was 11-year old Godwine, then 7-year old Wulfhelm, named for his grandfather, my late Uncle, and finally 2-year old Ælfræd. Countess Sifflæd de Criel, my good friend, was proud of her four sons. It was a good visit.
There were a few marriages, such as Ælfrida of Oxford’s marriage to Eadbald Fortescue, a knight who joined my service, and Helga Barton had married Adolf von Brockberg, another knight. Helga’s father, Beorhtric Barton, one of my knights and fellow Crusader, was the target of a plot to gain some kind of hold over him. I was not sure if this was plot was solely targeting Beorhtric, or it was the first step in a more involved plot to plant an agent in my court. Hereweard would continue to look into this and try to follow the thread back to the instigator.
The most exciting things to happen were within my own family. My daughter Beorhtgyth became my ward and started her formal education in stewardship as she reached the age of 6. Then there was the birth of my first grandchild, Beorhtmær Æthelricson of Bamburgh, named for my husband, the boy’s grandfather. He had his father’s and grandfather’s bright ginger hair. My daughter-in-law, Æthelburg, made it through the birth with no complications. I was very happy, for my son and Æthelburg, and for Northumbria, itself. The succession was secured for another generation. Though I was a little perturbed to find myself a grandmother at the age of 38.
That was soon assuaged when I learned I was pregnant for the fifth time. It was a nerve wracking as I awaited the birth after having lost my last child. I was able to distract myself for a time during my confinement by following my martial interests by studying a scroll I had translated that detailed the ancient Battle of Teutoburg Forest where Germanic tribes defeated the Roman legions. But finally, after nine months, I gave birth to a perfect little daughter. She did not share the bright ginger hair of her siblings and father, but instead took after me with a mop of dark brown hair. From the start I knew she was special, as she came into the world bright eyed and very aware of all around her. We named her Wulfhild.
My niece, Countess Eadgyth of Lancashire, had at the same time come of age and was betrothed to her second cousin, Godwine Wulfnothson of the North Riding. This worried me a little as her mother and father had also been cousins, which risked a chance that any children may become inbred.
My sister, Hextilda, remained unmarried, a widow. It had been nine years since the death of her husband, and she was only 37 years old, she could have more children. She had always been shy and nervous meeting strangers due to the mocking and ridicule she had suffered as a child due to her unusual coloring. She had not had my luck in having as wonderful a guardian as Twardomir while growing up alone in Leodis. I decided I would see if I could find someone worthy who might interest her. The only single man of marriageable age in my own court was my best knight, Ealdmund Wintaling. He was temperate, trusting man, though easily swayed, but strong of body and an exceptionable warrior.
Hextilda was willing to marry him, but only if he accepted a matrilineal marriage. This was fine by me, and Ealdmund seemed like he would be willing to give up his family name in order to become the Earl of the West Riding. I only hesitated because it would not be the most prestigious marriage for my sister. I held off committing for the moment to see if I could find a more worthy candidate. But after a search of a few weeks, letters written to acquaintances and family I could find no nobleman or other man, better than Ealdmund. The last thought I had was to try to attract candidates in the same manner that had brought Ealdmund to my court in the first place, I put out a call for knights. If no one worthy arrived, I would press Ealdmund as a suitor.
Within a month the first knight arrived in response to my summons. His name was Alastair Buchan, a Scot who followed the Insular heresy. He was about the same age as Ealdmund, but not as skilled a warrior. He actually shared a few traits and interests in common with Hextilda, he was shy and he was a master hunter, a hobby she had been pursuing over the last few years. He was a humble man, so did not seem to be one to protest giving up his family name in favor of the Bamburgh name. The only concern was he appeared to be a man who never forgot a slight, which could cause problems if he was elevated to the rank of Earl.
While I was awaiting more candidates, my vassal Countess Æthelburg of Westmorland died under mysterious circumstances, leaving her 1-year daughter Cuthburg Wulfheredohtor as the new Countess of Westmorland. With Æthelburg’s death House Wuffing was all but extinct, as the young Countess was of House Bamburgh. Æthelburg’s aunt Ealdgyth Wuffing, was the last living member of the family, and she was too old to have children to continue the House.
Another death hit closer to home as my cousin Earl Wulfnoth of the North Riding died of the Plague. He had been one of my closest friends and had served as my Marshal for years. He would be sorely missed. His son, Wiglaf, became the new Earl of the North Riding. I surprised many when I chose my niece, Countess Eadgyth, as my new Marshal, but I trusted her, and I wanted someone with a fresh point of view on the Council as I was surrounded by people my age or older who had served me for years. She quickly proved her worth by finishing the task Wulfnoth had been working on, bringing order to Westmorland following the death of Countess Æthelburg.
Shortly after that another knight arrived. It sent a stab of grief through my heart when he said his name was Wulfnoth, Wulfnoth of Oxford. He was a younger man, closer in age to Hextilda, he appeared to be a hardworking, generous man, who enjoyed a fine meal and had experience as a quartermaster handling logistics for moving a large army of men. I took him on as a knight, but again, he didn’t measure up to Ealdmund.
Soon after a third man arrived in answer to my call for knights. His arrival was met with disbelief when he announced he had come to serve as a knight. Eadfrith Perry was a dwarf. Only 20 years old, touchy on the subject, but honest. He claimed God had called him to fight. I didn’t dismiss him out of hand due to his stature, I had come to depend on Aunt Cynehild who was also a dwarf and had proved her worth 10 times over. And I didn’t discount my rival to the south, Duke Gudliek of Mercia, who was also a dwarf, yet skilled in war. So, I took young Eadfrith into my service, but I am somewhat ashamed to say I never considered him as a fit husband for my sister.
With Eadfrith’s arrival, I gave up trying to find a more suitable husband for Hextilda and was ready to move forward with the marriage between her and Ealdmund Wintaling. But it turned out my search had been in vain, for Hextilda had found a husband on her own, a more prestigious match with a man named Philipp Wigeriche. He was a Saxon from the royal family of Lotharingia and a cousin to Kaiser Adalgari Wigeriche of the Holy Roman Empire. Philipp was a bit arrogant, not unexpected from the grandson of a King who had been raised in a royal court, but he was still a generous and trusting man. Philipp was also a widower, with one grown son, Count Gottfried of Westfriesland, and three grandchildren. He had even agreed to a matrilineal marriage. I just smiled and wished the couple happiness, glad to see my sister was no longer alone.
In August of 1180, England’s period of peace ended, as King Henrik pledged to support King Ulf of Sweden in his war to press his son Prince Borkvard’s claim on Blekinge against King Torgils of Denmark. King Vulvari of Frisia was also supporting King Ulf, while King Torgils only had an ally in Duke Mieszko II of Lower Silesia. I had my niece prepare some Northumbrian levys to sail with England’s army, but offered no additional support to a war so far across the sea.
But a far worse threat soon arrived in Bernicia, the Plague that had killed my cousin, Wulfnoth, was now stalking the halls of Bebbanburg.
Scotland
