Morcar's mind seems addled...or does it? I'm intrigued to understand what riddles and mysteries he speaks
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The Rightful King [Book the First on the House of Wessex]
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So I have done a quick read up. As I was so tardy in realising the existence of this AAR the least I could do was be prompt to consume.
And a very enjoyable meal it was too. I especially like Morcar, who is just ambiguous enough to be really interesting. Our young claimant is growing up nicely. His apprenticeship seems to be over, now to see the proof of his will.
And a very enjoyable meal it was too. I especially like Morcar, who is just ambiguous enough to be really interesting. Our young claimant is growing up nicely. His apprenticeship seems to be over, now to see the proof of his will.
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Glad you are liking it. As for Morcar, I like him too except when I don't. He is not a tyrant like Heinrich was in Eagle in Winter, but I would not trust him. Eadgar may trust him too much for my liking but that's my own fault and Eadgar's characteristics in game. I've tried to model them as closely as I could on that.
To all - another update follows and shows us both the follow through with the final lines of the last post, but perhaps a new side to both of our major players. I hope it remains in character and I've given over enough proof as to why the change. We'll see. Let me give it a typo pass first and then you will have it. Thanks for the great comments, everyone!
Indeed, this change up has complicated things. Not enough to destroy the story, certainly. In many ways, it will make it more interesting I hope. We will see.
Delirious, to be sure. I had set up a small nugget in the post before this of a disease beginning to spread. Turns out, in the game small pox broke out all over York during this period. I figured, hey...Morcar is headed back that way. What if he developed the Pox? And when he was down and out in his sickness, what things might he let slip that otherwise would not be said? Well, there you have the scene. That and a bit of exposition at the end that will be clear once the next update comes.
I was hoping I could rope you into heading this way once you got time.
Glad you are liking it. As for Morcar, I like him too except when I don't. He is not a tyrant like Heinrich was in Eagle in Winter, but I would not trust him. Eadgar may trust him too much for my liking but that's my own fault and Eadgar's characteristics in game. I've tried to model them as closely as I could on that.Thanks! It was a lot of fun to write.
And curiouser still, I'll bet. I meant the post to be a bit dark and dreamlike. Glad it seems to have had that effect.
To all - another update follows and shows us both the follow through with the final lines of the last post, but perhaps a new side to both of our major players. I hope it remains in character and I've given over enough proof as to why the change. We'll see. Let me give it a typo pass first and then you will have it. Thanks for the great comments, everyone!
The Rightful King
York, England – February 1072
The long year of 1071 drew to a close with many ill tidings, but few at Duke Morcar’s court seem to feel it as nothing could have brought them greater joy than the December births of two boys. One was to Eadgar of Wessex and his wife, Hextilda. They named the boy Uhtræd, though Eadgar had hoped to honor his friend who still sat in the Bastard’s prison. Hextilda expressed misgivings that it might portend a bad omen. He was over-ruled.
The other boy was born not two weeks later to none other than Duke Morcar and his wife, the Duchess Adelhaid. After six long years of marriage and many attempts to bear him a son, she had finally done so. Though Morcar was very sick still, the birth of a son seemed to bring him from his illness such that no other potion or cure had yet been able to address. He named the boy Eadgar. Now, on this still cold February morning, he sat as he watched Adelhaid nurse the child and he smiled.
“My Lord Duke…you shall make me blush,” she said as she returned his look in kind.
“I shall make you do a great many things over the years, my wife. But none shall ever be so great as what you have already done. The pallor is lifted and I with it.”
“You do look much better to me, my Lord Duke. The color has returned to your face. Would you finally like to take the chance to hold little Eadgar?” she asked as she started to rise.
Morcar quickly lifted from his seat and backed away. “Not yet! No. It is not safe. I will not see a hair on his head harmed by me or any other.”
“As you wish, my Lord…but he does miss his papa.”
Duke Morcar grinned at the words and yet would not move any closer. “I shall leave you to it, my wife. Come to me should he feel any discomfort. I shall have all the healers in York here within the day.”
He bade her goodbye and moved with some slowness down the keep’s hall to his personal chamber. Though his illness had left him, he was still recovering his strength. He was determined to do so. As he passed through the door, he spied his Marshal looking over maps.
“A new father should not be working so hard, my Lord!” Morcar scolded with levity.
Eadgar looked up and smiled to see the Duke moving about. “I see this reprieve continues to last. I am sorry I was not here when the sickness abated…and surely sorry not to witness your great joy at the birth of your son!”
“Think nothing of it, my young Lord. Though you be not so young any more. Nor am I.” Morcar allowed himself to laugh at the joke and moved to take some small goblet of wine.
“But strong again. And that is of far more import,” Eadgar moved to him to see if he needed any help.
“I am not so weak as that, my Lord Marshal. Go back to your maps if you must work so diligently.”
Eadgar stood still and looked gratefully at Morcar.
“What?” the Duke asked.
“I am honored, my Lord Duke. That is all.”
Morcar took his drink and moved to sit, “Honored? Honored that I have had you working so hard and doing my bidding these last many months when you should have been home by the side of your wife who was with child? Honored that I refuse still to let you take my men to battle even though every argument you make is sense itself? How be you so honored, my Lord?”
“That you would name your only son after me. It is an honor for which I find myself most unworthy, but it is an honor nonetheless.”
“Bah!” Morcar waved a hand at the Marshal and took his drink down. “Leave off of these silly words and tell your Duke what is so very interesting about these maps you ponder.”
Eadgar simply smiled and moved back to the table, “Are you sure you wish to know?”
“Indeed…tell me how wonderful my brother has been doing in service to the King…and how the Hardrada is blown clear off the map to Hell…wait…no…tell me that the Bastard has finally corralled Godwine! Now that is a story I would find very pleasing.”
Eadgar turned with a serious look on his face, “I wish I could tell you such, my Lord Duke. But I cannot. Though Duke Eadwin was successful in gaining us back Chesterfield, he has made little progress throughout this past year. The Bastard has sacked Maldon this past December and now I am told Waltham falls to him as well. He now controls most of Wessex, Bedford, Essex and all of Middlesex.”
“So at least he has not been wasting his time.” Duke Morcar moved to fill another goblet. “Pray continue…”
“The Irish Band has yet to be contained by our Lord Godwine and has invested all of Somerset and now moves on Devon.”
“Of course they have,” the Duke only half-joked as he took down the wine. “And what of ancient Harald? What has our Lord of Foolishness and naught other been doing while I waste away in sickness?”
“Truthfully, my Lord Duke…there you have hit it directly. He has done little and less these last many months which causes me to believe that his forces are spent as are those of his Danish brethren. It is true that they still claim to hold many lands in the North…Harald in all of Lancaster and Burton still in Derby, while King Svend claims sway in all of Chester as well as strategic Ludlow near Shrewsbury…but…”
As Eadgar stopped to allow Morcar a chance to consider what he had said, the Duke stood as best he could and walked over to the maps himself. He looked at them for a moment and then back at his Marshal.
“You know what you ask of me, my Lord?” a slight glint in his eye already apparent.
“I do, my Lord Duke. I am sorry to continue pressing it, but I feel it is my duty in all ways and the wise move. We must take war to them now or forever see this land torn apart by non-stop aggression from any comer that may wish just a piece of this realm.”
The Duke kept his gaze squarely on his Marshal and while still showing a hint of excitement, his eyes were clear and focused, “Explain to me what you have in mind, and I will tell you if it be wise or no.”
“The Norsemen leave nothing to hold what they claim. It is ripe for the picking. If only your brother would take his forces south to meet with what little is left of them there, we could at the least remove one faction from this struggle. I have been training our fighting men hard for the better part of a year. They are more than ready to take this fight to any man that stands before them. But we must take action.”
“You do speak well on the matter, my Lord Marshal. And I can see that your considerations have been solid and true. I cannot promise what Eadwin may say, but I shall grant you the chance to call up a levy of men to take back these lands of the North.”
Morcar moved to sit once more but Eadgar stopped him as he said, “No my Lord.”
“No?” the Duke turned with not a little amount of anger beginning to well up inside. “What mean you by this?”
“I do beg forgiveness, but no. It is not enough to simply move our men to siege while nothing is done to stop the Norsemen in the south. Duke Eadwin must move if we do. Our forces must act as if one.”
The Duke had been sick for some time and though he was still weak in body, his mind was daily returning in strength and the anger inside him made him feel even better. But as he looked at his Marshal, he could see a resolve in the man that had until now not seemed entirely present. Eadgar of Wessex was certain in his thoughts and his gaze towards Morcar was focused and calm.
“It seems that fatherhood has done more for you than battle, my friend.” Morcar moved to place his arm on Eadgar’s shoulder. “And of course, you are entirely correct.”
“I know not if that be the case, my Lord Duke…” Eadgar started to answer with great seriousness before Morcar stopped him.
“Fine…fine…it is as you say…I will go to my brother and try to extract some alliance if possible. I shall send Æthelwine to Hereford to treat with his men so that they will also pressure their Duke to act. I can see that you are well met with this proposition and I wish not to stop your planning. And I grow tired of arguing, my Lord…”
“And one more thing, my Lord Duke…” Eadgar pushed, “I will lead the good men of York this time and always.”
Morcar suddenly acted out in anger as he threw his cup to the ground and stood with a swiftness even he did not think he possessed at that time, “Do you take advantage of my weakness, boy?!”
“No my Lord,” Eadgar was quick to answer with calm. “I do what is right. And I will never again call men to war without leading them myself. You may say no to the adventure and I will allow you your prerogative to do so. I will respect your decision and return to the training of your soldiers and the needs of my wife. But you will know that you were wrong to deny me this. It is what I ask.”
Morcar allowed himself a moment before answering, and when he did, he too found a sense of calm, “I give you my apology, my Lord.”
“There is no need for that…” Eadgar began again but was stopped.
“Atheling…quit when you are ahead. Do you not see that you have bested me this day? It may be my weakness. Or it may be your strength. Either way, it matters not. I will push this for you…for me…for the men of the North so tired of this infernal war. I will push this if you would do just one thing for me?”
Eadgar was quick to answer, “You have not but to ask, my Lord Duke.”
“Would you do me the favor of holding my child for me?”
Eadgar of Wessex looked slightly confused at first but allowed his smile to return. “My Lord Duke…it would be my great pleasure to do so. And you will hold him too in good time.”
Duke Morcar took Eadgar’s arm as they began to walk from the room, “I do hope it. And to hold your boy too. It is truly my wish.”
“Rest assured, my Lord…there will be plenty of time for that. These two will grow as brothers, I promise you.”
“That has not been a pleasant thing in my history,” Morcar answered as he stopped for a moment and looked to Eadgar with a grin, “But God willing, history may change.”
Eadgar is back in charge!
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So, Morcar is not yet at death's door. An interesting little passage this, showing how his illness too has allowed his protege to grow a little, but perhaps not always in ways to Morcar's liking. There is much touching, of men dancing around unfamiliar emotions, but also a sense of a coming change.
A nice little chapter there
The give-and-take between Eadgar and Morcar is a fascinating look at how both of their characters have developed. Eadgar, it seems, has grown in savviness and courage without losing his essential idealism; Morcar, meanwhile, seems to be a touch more sentimental, though without losing his sense of political cunning. Fatherhood has undoubtedly changed them both over the years, and I'm sure Morcar's close brush with mortality didn't leave him unchanged as well.
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Also looking forward to seeing a decisive end to the succession crisis plaguing England soon. Five years is entirely too long to be without any effective rule, and the Norse and Normans have been allowed to run roughshod over the land too long as well.
The give-and-take between Eadgar and Morcar is a fascinating look at how both of their characters have developed. Eadgar, it seems, has grown in savviness and courage without losing his essential idealism; Morcar, meanwhile, seems to be a touch more sentimental, though without losing his sense of political cunning. Fatherhood has undoubtedly changed them both over the years, and I'm sure Morcar's close brush with mortality didn't leave him unchanged as well.
.
Also looking forward to seeing a decisive end to the succession crisis plaguing England soon. Five years is entirely too long to be without any effective rule, and the Norse and Normans have been allowed to run roughshod over the land too long as well.
Fb-fb:
And to tackle your last thought first, there are unfortunately a few more years of war to deal with. I shared your sentiment as I played this part out in game, and to add further sadness to it...well, there is more to come. (Spoiler alert!)
As stated to stnylan, I am pleased that the sense of change with both of these men seems real and earned. I hoped it to be. I honestly cannot say more than that as it would truly be a spoiler! But keep watch of this space.
To all - I have the next update ready to go after a chance to check for typos and add the screens. I intended originally only one bit but it was too short on its own. And the one after provides a nice follow through so I will include it as well. If the length starts to beg the readers needs in keeping up, please let me know, but I always think an update should be right in the middle - like a woman's skirt, long enough to cover the subject, but short enough to make it interesting.
As I always say, thank you for reading. And many thanks for your comments. From feedback in the Showcase thread, I understand some are following but not commenting. I won't shame you for that as I am certainly happy with the view itself (I will allow stnylan to do that, since he is the expert!) But I would certainly welcome any lurker to join in should they have something to say. Promise I won't bite and I appreciate the response as it helps me know whether I am getting done what I wish with the writing or not. I happen to think this is an interactive art rather than a lonesome one. We write here for the feedback to gain valuable advice. There is not a better place on the internet for such. So please do not feel shy about joining in.
I'm glad that came across, stnylan. Between the birth of children for both men, and Morcar's illness, a bit of change has occurred. You speak of unfamiliar emotions, and I think that is right. As Eadgar asserts himself, he is finding a path. As Morcar is softening (somewhat) he is finding a different path than the one he has been on. Whether that remains the case for both is still very much in the air.
Indeed, and I have tried to add a little of that in other recent updates. Notice how Eadgar calls out Morcar's actual name rather than his formal title at one point while he was sick. Hopefully that added to his sense of power. Or how Morcar himself showed his (perhaps) true thoughts in that same scene. There were some nuggets I planted there that I hope to pay off in future. Of course, when I played the game again, there was another shift. But I say too much...
I was wondering where you were, Specialist. You have become my new Stuyvesant (a member that always gave the most insightful comments but is sadly dealing with RL at present and not around these parts of late.) I have appreciated your words since day one of this AAR.A nice little chapter there
The give-and-take between Eadgar and Morcar is a fascinating look at how both of their characters have developed. Eadgar, it seems, has grown in savviness and courage without losing his essential idealism; Morcar, meanwhile, seems to be a touch more sentimental, though without losing his sense of political cunning. Fatherhood has undoubtedly changed them both over the years, and I'm sure Morcar's close brush with mortality didn't leave him unchanged as well.
.
Also looking forward to seeing a decisive end to the succession crisis plaguing England soon. Five years is entirely too long to be without any effective rule, and the Norse and Normans have been allowed to run roughshod over the land too long as well.
And to tackle your last thought first, there are unfortunately a few more years of war to deal with. I shared your sentiment as I played this part out in game, and to add further sadness to it...well, there is more to come. (Spoiler alert!)As stated to stnylan, I am pleased that the sense of change with both of these men seems real and earned. I hoped it to be. I honestly cannot say more than that as it would truly be a spoiler! But keep watch of this space.
To all - I have the next update ready to go after a chance to check for typos and add the screens. I intended originally only one bit but it was too short on its own. And the one after provides a nice follow through so I will include it as well. If the length starts to beg the readers needs in keeping up, please let me know, but I always think an update should be right in the middle - like a woman's skirt, long enough to cover the subject, but short enough to make it interesting.
As I always say, thank you for reading. And many thanks for your comments. From feedback in the Showcase thread, I understand some are following but not commenting. I won't shame you for that as I am certainly happy with the view itself (I will allow stnylan to do that, since he is the expert!
) But I would certainly welcome any lurker to join in should they have something to say. Promise I won't bite and I appreciate the response as it helps me know whether I am getting done what I wish with the writing or not. I happen to think this is an interactive art rather than a lonesome one. We write here for the feedback to gain valuable advice. There is not a better place on the internet for such. So please do not feel shy about joining in.- 1
The Rightful King
Chester, England - May 1072
“So you have been to these grounds before, my Lord Marshal?” the Baron of Richmond asked as he continued to pack his saddle bag and looked over his shoulder at Eadgar of Wessex.
“Yes…once at the least. But it was short-lived. I was not part of the vanguard, unfortunately.”
Osweald moved from his mount and returned to the smoldering fire, kicking a bit of dirt on it as he came close.
“Not as yet, my Lord…” Eadgar cautioned. “We know not when we shall have such again.”
The Marshal beckoned for him to take a seat and so Osweald did with a thud, his heavy set body not meant to sit so low. “You speak the truth, my Lord. But what of good Inwær? I had thought him to be here with you this time as it was he that I understand led the Duke’s forces back in those heady days of ’70.”
“I had need of him nearer to home.”
“I suspect that you did, what with a newborn and all. Ahh, it is a wonder,” Osweald tried to lean back in the grass until his large body caused him to stop.
Eadgar offered a snicker but answered truly, “It is that, my Lord. I understand you have a young one at home as well?”
“Yes…naught but two, but he is a handful. My good wife does have her horrors ahead of her, I am sad to say.”
“And you as well, my Lord,” Eadgar offered in good spirit.
“Aye, that is true. But not now as we be out on this road. And who knows if we will ever meet this Bastard of Normandy.”
Eadgar pushed with his boots to pile more dirt in front of the fire but still not ready to put it out. “It is not he that we shall face, my Lord, though it looks as though we may see some of his Norman goats.”
“A man can wish, yes?” Osweald looked to Eadgar with a smile.
“Yes…that they can do. In truth, however, it was never he that we were meant to fight. That was not the aim of this campaign.”
“Little you can do about that, my Lord,” Osweald said as he struggled to raise his portly figure from the ground.
Watching with some amusement, Eadgar joked, “It is a good thing you bring your archers from Richmond, my Lord.”
“It is a rule in my land that every male child be born with a bow in one hand and a gold coin in the other. That way, I shall always find something of worth in all the good peoples of Richmond.”
As the Baron went to find some dried beef, he laughed and the Marshal laughed with him. “If that be true, then we have no use for Godwine, Duke Eadwin, nor the French for that matter!”
Osweald turned with a wry smile and a wink, “Aye, but then the Danes would still be pissing about on the Isle. We have the French to be thankful for that, my Lord Marshal. The Danes beg out of the war and now we find a free road to the south.”
Eadgar knew it to be true. “Indeed, it seems King Svend did not count on that bit of melancholy. Two thousand Franks will cause such sadness.”
“Nor did Duke Eadwin, it seems,” Osweald said as he shuffled back and offered Eadgar a morsel.
The Marshal raised his hand kindly to decline as he answered, “He be thankful as much as I might be, my Lord. But would that Godwine had asked the French King to join in all the fun.”
“The Bastard is his vassal. Not so the Norseman. Two different conflicts, my Lord Marshal.”
As the Baron of Richmond tossed a bit more dirt on the fire, Eadgar finally stood and joined him. “You be right. And every little bit helps. The Franks are doing yeomen’s work to our north. It has allowed our movement and with the Duke of Mercia finally moving against those forces to the south…”
Osweald allowed a smile, “He has moved swiftly. I cannot argue. He bests the Norsemen and now the Irish. I hear he chases them clear across Somerset.”
“That he does. And now…so will we…” Eadgar allowed a larger smile as he pulled down his trousers. “…piss on this fire.”
The Baron laughed as he followed along and soon the fire was out and they began to gather the men for the long march south. The Baron did holler back at least once as the soldiers began to move, “If you get there first, Lord Marshal…save a few for me!”
Yorkist Army moves South
* * *
Guildford, England – December 1072
The Prince-Bishop Æthelwine pulled his robes up as he crossed the muddy ground, trying to keep them from getting any filthier. He much preferred his life at the Court of York rather than traipsing around the country on one more mission for his Duke. But he was given a charge, and after the last few years, he was loathe to offend Morcar any more than he had already done. He was in his thoughts and barely noticed when a young solider barreled past him and fell to the ground. The Chancellor sniffed and stepped over the boy without giving it a second thought. He looked up and spied the Duke’s tent and smiled as he straightened his mantle. Entering, he found Duke Morcar slightly in his cups but looking over various papers.
“My Lord Duke, I bring you good word from the King. He is said to be awaiting a new child any day now.”
Morcar looked up with clear frustration, “This is what you bring me? I tell you to go there and tell me all of Godwine’s activities and you can only tell me that he plows his wife often and well?”
Æthelwine grew red in the face with embarrassment, “My Lord Duke…”
“Stuff that and tell me something else that I would like to hear!” Morcar growled.
“The Irish are no longer a presence. This should be to your liking.”
The Duke stood and moved to get another drought, “I already knew this, you fool. But like weeds, when one dies another rises to take its place.”
“No, my Lord Duke…Godwine has told me that they have brokered a truce and returned home with what little they have left to them.”
As Morcar turned, he started to drink slowly and once finished, placed down his cup with precision. “And I am certain he tells all who will listen of his bravery in the field at besting these wayward Celts and their barbarous ways.”
Uncertain how to answer, the Prince-Bishop suggested, “There were words spoken in this regard, my Lord Duke.”
“Indeed…but I’ll bet not of our Marshal’s forces that threw them from Devon and chased them to Cornwall where I must admit, I had to laugh.”
“Laugh, my Lord Duke?” Æthelwine asked.
“They did not know that instead of brave Saxons, they would be met by foolish Norsemen as they attempted yet one more landing. Gods balls, would I have enjoyed watching that fight.”
“It is true, that was a momentous occasion…” the Chancellor tried to placate.
“Momentous? My God man, in less than a month Eadgar’s army bested both the Norse and the Irish like a game of pass the ball. A strategic masterstroke is what it was!”
“He has done well, my Lord Duke. That is no small thing. Even Duke Eadwin was said to have sent a congratulatory note after the Marshal bested Count William of Evreux this past summer.”
The Duke seemed to grimace slightly at the suggestion, but filled another cup and drank it down before answering, “He has cut a swath from north to south, though his numbers are better every time. And the Baron’s archers strike true. And since my last dispatch from the Marshal had him routing the last of this Band’s forces in Devon once more, I know well the lack of Irish in the field, sir. So, perhaps you might tell your Duke something that he does not already know nor has little care for?!”
Prince-Bishop Æthelwine tried not to sweat under the heated gaze but he replied, “I wished for better tidings, my Lord Duke. But it is not that, I am afraid.”
Sensing the Chancellor’s reticence, Morcar moved to sit again and calmed his anger. “Simply say it, my Lord Bishop. Do not make me ask again.”
“It seems that the Danes have landed again, and are once more assisting Hardrada. They have a new King.”
The Duke seemed to find the news welcome as he smiled, “And I thought they were scared of King Philippe. Perhaps they are not the women I assumed.”
“My Lord Duke,” Æthelwine continued, “Harald has sent a further two thousand and added it to their strength.”
At this, Morcar lost his grin. “Damn the fools! Why will they not quit this game? It is clear he will not seat this throne and yet he persists!”
“Indeed, my Lord Duke. King Godwine was of much the same consideration. It did make him cease his talk of victory quite suddenly and completely.”
Morcar looked to his Chancellor with steely eyes, “That is all well and good, my Lord Bishop. But his embarrassment does not help us win this struggle. Nor does your persistence in giving me unwanted news. What am I doing here? Guarding the fool’s mint that he has little use for since he has little coin? Training his troops that he has barely the will to use? And what are you doing but going from here to there and gathering no intelligence in any way or wise?”
“I do have some news, my Lord Duke, that might bring you some pleasure, though it be not Christian for me to say with any glad tidings…” the Prince-Bishop took chance with a slight step forward.
Æthelwine continued, “…in my time at Hereford earlier this year, there was a rumor that Duke Eadwin had contracted consumption. Sadly, that is not all the ill news that followed as I have also had word that his good wife Wulfgyth died in childbirth, though the baby does live in the form of a girl. I believe they named her Ælgifu. Further, it seems he wasted little time in contracting a new bride…some commoner…an Ealhswith of Mercia I believe, whom I am told is a paranoid and gluttonous creature that knows no bounds in her cruelty now that she has gained her lofty station.”
The Duke looked up at his Chancellor and allowed a large grin to wash across his face.
Sensing a victory, Æthelwine added, “As you are married to the beautiful and still very young daughter of an Hungarian King…a princess, my Lord Duke…with a strong and healthy boy child… and the Duke has fallen so low…”
Morcar stood and moved to pour another drink but this time handed the cup to Æthelwine, “If you had begun with this news, our meeting might have gone better, my Lord Bishop. But I am well met by this word and thus I will no longer scold you today.”
“Many thanks, my Lord Duke. It comes to me thankfully as the road has been weary.”
His Chancellor dropped his smile when Morcar responded, “And that is why I am sending you back to Hereford for the now to seek out much and more of this news for me to hear.”
The Prince-Bishop nodded though it was entirely not what he wished to hear. But he felt he must address one final issue. “Given this latest news and the sure victories our Marshal has seen over these last months, is it wise to keep him…in his lofty state?”
“Do you presume to tell me my worth, my Lord Bishop?” Morcar answered with an arched brow.
“No, my Lord Duke. Of course not. It is simply…well, it is true your star may begin to rise once more and I only thought that…”
The Duke could barely contain his fury but buried it deeply and answered with a calm voice, “You will go to Hereford and report back to me anything and all else, as I wish it. Marshal Eadgar will stay in the field and march on Wessex once more, as I wish it. And the next time I see you, you will speak to me words that I do not already know…as I wish it!”
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I was wondering where you were, Specialist. You have become my new Stuyvesant (a member that always gave the most insightful comments but is sadly dealing with RL at present and not around these parts of late.) I have appreciated your words since day one of this AAR.
My apologies. Unfortunately, I'm not immune to the call of real-world concerns myself -- and, on rare occasions, people have said I can be a little forgetful (though I can't quite recall who would say such a thing...). That said, I'm quite flattered by the comparison. I'm familiar with @Stuyvesant myself, and I've almost never seen feedback from him that wasn't constructive or insightful in some way.
Morcar plays Æthelwine like a fiddle. I have a feeling I know who's going to be the comic relief of this AAR
My dance metaphor seems to be suiting this conflict well; no sooner does one partner bow out than another takes their place on the floor. Fortunately, Eadgar and Morcar seem to be keeping their footing rather well.
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I wonder if Morcar doesn't feel a little out of control. That his grasp might be slipping a little.
I do think that perhaps the dear bishop rather takes some enjoyment from baiting him so. In a holy kind of way. Maybe he thinks it is good for Morcar's soul?
Finally I did rather smile at the way the first portion ended, with someone pulling down trousers, and the second portion started with our bishop pulling up his robes. I could image a cinematic cut of those two actions transitioning between the scenes.
I do think that perhaps the dear bishop rather takes some enjoyment from baiting him so. In a holy kind of way. Maybe he thinks it is good for Morcar's soul?
Finally I did rather smile at the way the first portion ended, with someone pulling down trousers, and the second portion started with our bishop pulling up his robes. I could image a cinematic cut of those two actions transitioning between the scenes.
- 2
I've been busy this weeks, so I had to catch up the last chapters.
Now that it is done, I must say the quality remains high. A very pleasant AAR !
Morcar is probably my favorite, and I was a bit worried that he might die from his illness. Glad he did not.
I always like when characters maneuvers from the shadows and play with others to obtain their personal goals.
Now that it is done, I must say the quality remains high. A very pleasant AAR !
Morcar is probably my favorite, and I was a bit worried that he might die from his illness. Glad he did not.
I always like when characters maneuvers from the shadows and play with others to obtain their personal goals.
Fb-fb:
As for poor Æthelwine...indeed, he has become a bit of a comic foil. I don't mind if you don't. I had some fun with the tension in that scene and goodness knows we can all enjoy a bit of levity what with this war continuing to wage around us. As for the next dance partner...read on...
) the poor man is simply wanting to find a way home and to a comfy bed (...don't you mean, a comfy chair? ).
To speak on the transition, I can say I in now way intended that, but as it works, I think I will keep it. You know I love my cinematic flourishes if I can make them work. This one did without even trying.
As for Morcar, he has been fun to write. (Hopefully, he remains so.) He definitely has an agenda. I'd caution all to remember that, regardless of what words I give him.
To all - I had meant to watch some football when I got home from work, but A&M can't seem to do a thing against 'Bama so...I wrote another scene. I already had one in the can and ready to go and was planning on a breather day. But now that I have two, you guys get the next one today instead of tomorrow. Allow me the chance to check it once more for typos and it will be up.
Thanks to everyone that is reading, and very special thanks for the awesome comments!
That he does. Especially our good Chancellor. Recall he has had some slip ups of late. Thin ice, and all that.
No one is immune to RL, sir. I am thankful you had chance to get back and read the latest. My comment was meant to be flattering as you do give great and insightful comments.My apologies. Unfortunately, I'm not immune to the call of real-world concerns myself -- and, on rare occasions, people have said I can be a little forgetful (though I can't quite recall who would say such a thing...). That said, I'm quite flattered by the comparison. I'm familiar with @Stuyvesant myself, and I've almost never seen feedback from him that wasn't constructive or insightful in some way.
Morcar plays Æthelwine like a fiddle. I have a feeling I know who's going to be the comic relief of this AAR
My dance metaphor seems to be suiting this conflict well; no sooner does one partner bow out than another takes their place on the floor. Fortunately, Eadgar and Morcar seem to be keeping their footing rather well.
As for poor Æthelwine...indeed, he has become a bit of a comic foil. I don't mind if you don't. I had some fun with the tension in that scene and goodness knows we can all enjoy a bit of levity what with this war continuing to wage around us.
As for the next dance partner...read on...Morcar knows where he has power...and where he does not. He'll take advantage where he can. And as for the Bishop (...dum, dum, da dum dum...The Bishop?!
) the poor man is simply wanting to find a way home and to a comfy bed (...don't you mean, a comfy chair? ).To speak on the transition, I can say I in now way intended that, but as it works, I think I will keep it. You know I love my cinematic flourishes if I can make them work. This one did without even trying.
No worries, Number 9 (and off the subject, I am curious - does your nick have anything to do with the Beatles song?) - read and comment when you can. I know I am moving fast with this one and that my speed does not always work with the readers timeline in catching up. I know I will lose some, but also keep others that wish for a daily diet (or I hope so.) And thank you! I hope it remains that way.I've been busy this weeks, so I had to catch up the last chapters.
Now that it is done, I must say the quality remains high. A very pleasant AAR !
Morcar is probably my favorite, and I was a bit worried that he might die from his illness. Glad he did not.
I always like when characters maneuvers from the shadows and play with others to obtain their personal goals.
As for Morcar, he has been fun to write. (Hopefully, he remains so.) He definitely has an agenda. I'd caution all to remember that, regardless of what words I give him.
To all - I had meant to watch some football when I got home from work, but A&M can't seem to do a thing against 'Bama so...I wrote another scene. I already had one in the can and ready to go and was planning on a breather day. But now that I have two, you guys get the next one today instead of tomorrow. Allow me the chance to check it once more for typos and it will be up.
Thanks to everyone that is reading, and very special thanks for the awesome comments!
The Rightful King
Dorset, England - April 1073
Eadgar of Wessex was not surprised when the Duke of York entered his tent. Morcar had made a point of late in traveling west to see how his protégé was doing and not trusting carriers to bring him dispatches with Normans all about Wessex. However, the Duke enjoyed the thrill of trying to sneak past the Bastard’s men as that was the only action he had seen since his brother had taken charge of the King’s forces in battle. The Marshal greeted him warmly and pulled a stool for him to sit.
“Many thanks, my Lord Marshal,” Duke Morcar answered as he rested his legs. “Days in the saddle do task my body. Now, if you had wine or ale, my tasked mind might also be better.”
Eadgar laughed and shifted to pull a flagon from a nearby satchel. “Drink of this and be well, my Lord Duke. I am afraid it is not of great vintage, but it is all we have.”
After he took some down, the Duke allowed himself a heavy sigh. “It is fine enough for the likes of me. God knows we Saxons are better at ale than wine. One must go to France for that.”
“That is true. Might I ask what brings you west?” Eadgar asked as he too pulled up a stool to sit.
“Ironically, those same French, my Lord Marshal.” The Duke answered before taking another deep pull from the flagon.
“The French? What of them, my Lord Duke?”
Morcar sensed concern in his Marshal’s face and moved to calm him, “Nothing of trouble, I assure you. But it seems that the French King himself has joined his men to the north.”
“Ah yes…King Philippe the Great, I believe they call him. Why I know not, but better still, how does this concern our endeavor, my Lord Duke?” Eadgar answered, still curious.
“Truly, that we have need of him further to the south,” Morcar replied as he stretched his legs out in front of him trying to loosen them up.
“This I could not argue, my Lord Duke. I believe you are right, though his men have done great work at taking back our keeps throughout Lancaster. It is clear the Norsemen wish not to meet him in battle as they tarry in Suffolk. Would that this Great King could also assist our struggle against the Bastard.”
The Duke nodded, “Yes and true. But we know he will not. That still be Godwine’s war to win and for now he seems more inclined to sweet talk to his new baby girl Maud. I’ve of mind to think that her screams be more shattering than his, at present.”
The two shared a laugh before Eadgar pressed Morcar again, “So what of this French King? Do you intend to treat with him or will it be your brother that parlays?”
“Neither,” Morcar folded his arms and looked kindly on his Marshal, “It will be you that I will send to speak with him.”
“Me, my Lord?” Eadgar seemed shocked. “What have I to say to this King that he would not better accept from a rank such as yours?”
“It is just that, Eadgar. He knows of our internal struggle. He is well aware of your station and place in this world. I believe it just and proper to present you as an alternate to that which he deals with now.”
“If this be about our recent struggles against the Bastard, my Lord Duke, I assure you that we may continue to challenge him where we might and given our strength against his…”
The Duke raised a hand, “It is in no way a statement on your worth as a leader to these men. That has been exceptional. But as you say, our numbers do not match William’s. Not even when included with my brother’s, though he has not won himself many rewards.”
“Does he remain ill, my Lord?”
“He does, though his mettle is stronger than I assumed. He has not left the field, to his credit. I like it not, personally. But…”
Eadgar nodded, “…but we have need of him, all the same.”
“Quite.” Morcar took another pull from the flagon and then continued, “I could not have desired any more than you have already done these last months, my Lord Marshal. That we took back St. Swithun from the Normans was more than could be asked what with his forces all about. And how you have managed to escape his clutches time and again is truly as uncanny as it is devoutly to be wished.”
“Thank you, my Lord,” Eadgar responded waiting for the hammer to strike the anvil.
“But the truth is that our levies are raised too long. Though we have missed the planting season there have been enough available to do so this year. The men will be needed for the harvest in good time and my coffers are not enough to sustain a prolonged campaign in the face of two would be pretenders.”
“Three, my Lord Duke,” Eadgar joked as he began to see the wisdom in the Duke’s words.
“Indeed…three. So as it stands, we must see to it that one of these pretenders is pushed entirely from this war. There is naught that can be done about the Bastard for the now, and it is useless to have you here trying to escape his clutches when I could have you in York and treating with this French King to travel south and meet with Hardrada once and for all.”
Morcar said his words with pleading eyes and Eadgar understood. “My Lord Duke, you speak true.”
“Of course I do,” the Duke winked. “This is no demotion, Eadgar. This is an opportunity.”
“And many thanks, my Lord Duke. I agree that our goal was to push the Norsemen from this war and fear it has not been entirely successful. If this be yet another avenue for that, then I will take the men and attempt a break through to the north. I cannot say that I see it as an opportunity for myself, but that can wait.”
Duke Morcar sensed Eadgar’s dejection and replied, “It is more than you think, my would be King. Forget not that Godwine’s own sister is married to this French King…and his brother Prince Hughes to another of the girls of Harold Godwinson. As I said, this is a chance to prove an alternative and try and bring him onto your side as much as ours. Make use of this time and I dare say, I do not fear for your welfare. I would fear for his.”
Eadgar of Wessex allowed himself to smile and nodded, “Very well. I trust you are right. I will have the men move on the morrow and do what I can with this Philippe. As much as I hope you will do what you can to make it safely back to Guildford, my Lord Duke. I assume you mean to return?”
“That I do, my Lord. But not without one more ounce of courage,” the Duke winked once again and then took a final pull from the flagon of wine.
Eadgar's Campaign is Over
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My, everyone who is anyone wants to fight in England it seems. One wonders if the Continent has seen so much peace this civil war could now be counted a tourist attraction?
I foresee some tricky negotiating, after which everyone will be so eager to bang some heads together than I would not want to be in Hardrada's shoes.
Morcar seemed very insistent on things "not being a demotion" and similar. Made me smile, because by denying it he never less has re-exerted a considerable control over Eadger. For now, at least.
I foresee some tricky negotiating, after which everyone will be so eager to bang some heads together than I would not want to be in Hardrada's shoes.
Morcar seemed very insistent on things "not being a demotion" and similar. Made me smile, because by denying it he never less has re-exerted a considerable control over Eadger. For now, at least.
- 1
A bit odd that the French are supporting the English against the Norse on the one hand while their vassal Normans are trying to snatch the English crown on the other. I do have to wonder how that came about...
I'm thinking along the same lines as stnylan: It may not be a demotion per se, but Morcar being so insistent about it not being a demotion makes me wonder if there's more behind Eadgar's reassignment than meets the eye.
I'm thinking along the same lines as stnylan: It may not be a demotion per se, but Morcar being so insistent about it not being a demotion makes me wonder if there's more behind Eadgar's reassignment than meets the eye.
Just caught up! Oh what a tangled web! I like the idea of trying to woo the French King who strangely has launched himself into the fray to best his opponent of Denmark?
I particularly liked this: After he took some down, the Duke allowed himself a heavy sigh. “It is fine enough for the likes of me. God knows we Saxons are better at ale than wine. One must go to France for that.” As I was hovering to write about Saxons preferring ale and mead to the more Frankish wine (brought in as a drink at the time of the Norman invasion) I practically cheered when you wrote the above.
I do like a well researched AAR and your dialogue is, as always, top notch
I particularly liked this: After he took some down, the Duke allowed himself a heavy sigh. “It is fine enough for the likes of me. God knows we Saxons are better at ale than wine. One must go to France for that.” As I was hovering to write about Saxons preferring ale and mead to the more Frankish wine (brought in as a drink at the time of the Norman invasion) I practically cheered when you wrote the above.
I do like a well researched AAR and your dialogue is, as always, top notch