You’re very welcome. I hear you re the sentence composition but you actually write other bits of dialogue well, which is why it can jar. Keep up the good work though and thanks for taking the suggestion on board
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Whiteshirts of England: A History of the Hvitserk Dynasty of Jorvik AAR
- Thread starter tpmcinty
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I was planning to post the next chapter tonight but I don't think that is going to happen. During my final proof read I decided I did not like the flow and structure of the chapter. So I am rewriting it. It was a long chapter so now I am contemplating making it two chapters.
It is strange how one conversation can lead to inspiration in another direction.
If all goes well I hope to post tomorrow.
It is strange how one conversation can lead to inspiration in another direction.
If all goes well I hope to post tomorrow.
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We all set-sail into those waters. <imvho> I think seeing the body-language. mood, demeanor, etc. can well frame the turn of the talk. markkur's madness softens into a mild mutter; 'Yeah right'...
<L>Make it Great
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Chapter 7.1.3 18 December 1000 York
18 December 1000 York
Afternoon
The Cathedral of St. Jourdain was decorated with all the trappings fit for a royal ceremony. Banners of all the duchies and counties of the realm adorned the walls. The banners of the Kingdom of Jorvik and the House of Hvitserk flanked the altar. Before the altar two ornate chairs were placed.
The nave was crowded with the various lords from within and without the realm. As a friend of King Eilif and a member of his Council Siweard was afforded an honored place near the altar with Rædwald’s siblings. Siweard knew it was not just honor but that he also had a task to perform.
Beside Siweard stood Prince Hlothere, Rædwald’s brother. The young prince had only come of age five months ago when he turned 16. He had accompanied his mother Eadhild from Ludlow. Since he was now heir to the throne he would not be accompanying her if she chose to return to Ludlow and the Duchy of Powys. Rædwald felt that his brother could profit spending some time with Siweard.
Siweard looked at the young prince, Rædwald is right. He is not ready to be Crown Prince and most definitely not ready to be King. Siweard shot a despairing glance at Eadhild who was standing with her other bastard children by Eilif, adult daughter Ælfthryth and seven year old son Swæfræd. Too long Eadhild you have sheltered your children from the realities of court and the world they were born into. Your protection of Rædwald hampers him. By the time Eilif wretched him away from you bad habits and traits had set in. Eilif and I spent years trying to undo those which would bring him trouble and ruin. I see the same habits in Hlothere and I fear I may not have the time to root them out of him.
As Siweard looked at Ælfthryth and Swæfræd his fact soften. Pity and remorse filled his soul. Ælfthryth and Swæfræd the lost children of Eilif. Poor Ælfthryth, the daughter Eilif could never acknowledge or legitimize. He tried many times to make it up to you. His efforts to find you a suitable husband were thwarted by your over protective mother. Perhaps your brother will have better luck. Swæfræd, at least Eilif was able to acknowledge you. It was not all Ingrid’s fault he did not legitimize your birth. Some if not a large portion of the blame goes to your mother. He tired of her interfering with his attempts to prepare Rædwald and Hlothere for their places in his court and the kingdom.
Siweard returned his gaze to Hlothere, “I hope you found your time with your Great Aunt Eadburg useful and enlightening.”
Nervously Hlothere replied, “Yes I did.”
Smirking Siweard said, “Let’s see.” Siweard paused for a moment knowing full well he was driving Hlothere a little crazy. “Who was Eadburg’s husband?”
Chuckling Hlothere boastfully answered, “Prince Totil.”
Siweard shot right back, “And who was Prince Totil?”
Still basking in his quick answer to Siweard’s first question Hlothere was almost caught off guard and paused for a moment before responding, “He was brother to King Sigfrið and Jarl of Lancaster before father was.” Pride swept across the young prince’s face.
Siweard smirked his evilest smirk, Time to smack that smugness off your face.
Pointing to a group standing in another section reserved for honored guest Siweard asked, “Who are those men and women?”
Too easy old man. Hlothere replied, “They are representatives from several nearby kingdoms whose kings were unable to attend.”
Showing no reaction Siweard said, “You were in attendance at the reception the other night welcoming these representatives to the palace. I believe you were Eadburg’s escort.”
Losing some of bravado because he no was longer sure of where Siweard was taking the conversation, “Yes you know I was. You arranged it.”
Displaying some attitude. Siweard stated, “I hope you were listening.”
Panic was starting to build. Hlothere felt his palms beginning to sweat. He had been too interested in watching the pretty women at the reception that giving his great aunt his undivided attention. “Yes I was,” he stammered.
Almost on the verge of laughter Siweard snapped, “We shall see.”
Hlothere felt a lump building in his throat.
Revealing in making the young prince uncomfortable Siweard continued, “I will point out a representative and you will tell me who they are, what kingdom they are from, who is the king, and why the king is not present.”
Hlothere suddenly felt very warm. His throat was dry. All he could do was nod.
A smiling Siweard said, “Good.” Tugging on his short grey beard, “Let’s see. Where to begin?”
“Yes, there.” Pointing Siweard said, “the one in the blue with the white and red lion.”
Hlothere let out the breath he had been holding. The man pointed out by Siweard was someone he spent a good deal of timing speaking with at the reception. He was the one who tried to talk me into learning how to play chess.
“He is Count Thietmar of Thüringen, Chancellor to King Karl III of East Francia. King Karl is aiding Chief Kolman of Weligrad against High Chief Bajoras III of Pruthenia who is trying to conquer Weligrad.”
Impressed Siweard nodded several times. “Now how about the one in the blue with the gold lion?”
Another one I spoke with. He kept asking about Birgitta, my half-sister. It was strange since she is only 9 years old. Hlothere answered, “Goeffroy de Forze. He is an acknowledge bastard of King Sigismond of Burgundy. Sigismond is fighting a Holy War for Hälsingland against King Snorri of Småland.”
Knowing things were now going to get difficult, Siweard again tugged his beard. I too was at the reception and I was watching you Prince. I knew you had conversations with Thietmar and Geoffroy. Now let us see how you do with the ones you only meet briefly or Eadburg told you about.
“The one in clerical robes.”
Hlothere hesitated. He did not speak with the man but Eadburg did introduce him. Hlothere rubbed the back of his neck.
Siweard said, “Well?”
Trying desperately to recall Hlothere muttered, “He is a bishop and brother of King Diogo II of Galicia.”
Shaking his head Siweard said, “His name is Prince Fernando and he is Bishop of Valencia de Campus. Do you know why King Diogo is not here?”
Hlothere perked up, “He is fighting a Holy for Navarra against the heathen Muslim King Uqess’un of Asturias.”
Siweard glared at Hlothere, “Disappointing. When you are introduced to a representative from another kingdom it is very important for you to remember. Forgetting a name could be taken as an insult and result in bad relations with that kingdom. Do you understand?”
Looking down Hlothere responded, “Yes.”
Siweard asked, “Shall we continued?”
Without raising his eyes from the floor Hlothere replied, “No.”
Siweard eyes opened wide, “No?”
Still looking down Hlothere answered, “I do not remember who the man is in the red with the gold loin.”
Siweard sighed, “Look at me.” Hlothere still continued looking down. Siweard grabbed Hlothere’s chin and forced his head up. “I said look at me.”
Sheepishly Hlothere, “Yes.”
Siweard let his chin go. “He is High Chief Þorgil of Orkney and is Chancellor for King Grim of Norge. KIng Grim is battling Gnupa of Orknö who is trying to conquer Telemark. It is the second time the Orcadians have tried for Telemark.”
Siweard was going to continue but took a look at Hlothere. The prince appeared beaten and somewhat deflated. Siweard took pity on him. “That is enough.”
Relieved Hlothere said, “Thank you Earl Siweard.”
In a very serious tone, “There is one more thing I want to remember. King Evrard of Aquitaine and King Ewan III of Scotland we also invited. We knew they could not attend due to wars they are involved in, but still extended the invitation expecting them to send representatives. Both refused outright to come or send someone. You cannot trust so called friends like that.”
Hlothere weakly replied, “Yes.”
Siweard patted him on the back and said, “You may go now.”
With his head down slightly Hlothere made his way to his mother.
Once Hlothere vacated the spot next to Siweard, Ingrid stepped in.
Smiling she said, “I never knew you to take pity on a student.”
Chuckling Siweard said, “I was going to ask him about the Irish lords but he look like he would soil himself if I did.”
Ingrid laughed a little and then quickly stopped herself. “When Hjalmar is old enough I would like you to test him on his knowledge of the neighboring monarchs.”
Siweard returned her smile, “At your service milady.”
Ingrid rubbed her chin, “And now of those Irish lords let’s see there is the new Chief of Ulaidh, Ségíne. If I remember correctly his father Garalt died of natural causes five months ago. Then there is Earl Cathal of Tír Eoghain. I am truly surprised that King Rogallach of Connachta is attending given his past history with Eilif.”
Nodding Siweard said, “Maybe you should be instructing the young princes.”
Slightly bowing Ingrid said, “Why thank you Spymaster. Now why are these lords here? Eilif fought and won tribute wars against each. You would think they would never come near a Jorvikian king.”
Looking like at another dignitary Siweard replied, “Like King Gregor of Cornwall over there. They all fear King Ealdmund of England or King Evrard of Aquitaine. Despite the current war they still worry about King Karl of Uppland. Better to be a tributary of Jorvik than conquered by England, Aquitaine, or Uppland where they may not be a ruler of any kind.”
Grabbing Siweard’s arm with both hands Ingrid smiled and said, “That is why you are the Spymaster of Jorvik.”
Pointing at a lord in blue with gold trim standing away from the others Siweard said, “Then there is King Renaud of France. Notice how the other representatives avoid him. They treat him as if he has a communicable disease.” He chuckled, “Or at least in public they do.”
Ingrid looked at Renaud, “Why do they treat him so?”
Siweard turned and looked toward the altar, “They fear that he will be excommunicated at anytime.”
Ingrid followed Siweard’s gaze, “So they do not want to be associated with him as they fear papal retribution could be brought upon them.”
Siweard smiled, “You would be a good spymaster as your reasoning is correct.”
Ingrid tilted her head and looked at the Spymaster, “If Pope Silvester had given the help King Renaud asked for to eliminate the Fraticelli heresy outbreak in Lotharingia there would have been no need for Renaud to take the actions he has.”
Siweard replied, “many would consider naming your own pope as going too far.”
Ingrid looked back at the altar, “Does this so call Pope Innocentius II of Laon have any real power?”
Siweard looked at the altar and then back to Renaud, “Inside France he wields power because the king wills it. Within France he has been able to rally support against King Centle II of Lotharingia and the heretics. His influence is growing in some of the counties bordering France. Renaud is not the only one concerned about the spread of the heresy.”
Looking at the thrones and then back to Siweard, “If Renaud is such a problem then why was he invited?”
Faking surprise Siweard looked at Ingrid, “Have you forgotten the long history of friendship between Jorvik and France? Rædwald has plans that involve France.”
Ingrid smiled, “Being very mysterious aren’t we?”
Siweard returned the smile but before he could answer the nave suddenly grew silent. A moment later a parade of acolytes entered the nave. The ceremony had begun.
Evening
The coronation feast had gone well into the evening. There was what seemed like endless food and drink. It was night full of speeches and entertainment of all kind.
Siweard was feeling one too many cups of wine. He had to take a moment to steady himself. He sat down on a bench with a thud. He rested his elbows on the table and held his chin in his hands. A serving wench placed a cup of ale before him. He looked at the ale as if it was a witch’s brew.
Siweard was startled out of his mental battle with the witch’s brew by the sound of someone sitting on the other side of the table. He looked up to see two his sons, Earl Eadwine of Cumberland and Duke Cytelbearn of Mann.
“Greetings father, “ said an obviously innebrated Eadwine.
Cytelbearn just smiled at his father as he placed his cup of ale on the table spilling about half of it as he did so.
Cytelbearn looked at Siweard and then Eadwine and said, “Look here Eadwine it is our father. The only member of our family who backs this new king without question.”
Siweard looked at his son and said, “Cytelbearn you are drunk. You should find your way to your chambers before you do something foolish.”
Cytelbearn glared at Siweard, “And if I don’t what do I have to fear?”
Eadwine interrupted, “Perhaps he is afraid to hear how his new king is viewed.”
Snickering Cytelbearn asked, “And brother how would that be?”
Leaning back and throwing his arms out Eadwine responded, “As an arrogant fool who will lead us to ruin.”
Nodding Cytelbearn said, “Here, here, you are so correct.”
In a voice with an edge to it Siweard said, “Careful with your words boys. You are bordering on .treason.”
With a loud snort Cytelbearn said, “Treason? Treason to who? A king who has shown himself to place his personal wants before those of the kingdom and its lords? A king who wields far too much power?”
With anger beginning to boil Siweard said, “A king who needs to be strong and needs no shackles holding him back when he needs to be decisive. You may not care for his decisions and actions but he is king and does not answer to you. You answer to him.”
Glaring at his father Eadwine said, “In that statement lies the issue. He needs to account himself to the lords of the realm. If not it will lead to tyranny and ruin.”
Now it was Cytelbearn turn to glare and say, “Remember I have seen tyranny at its worst. I was with King Eilif in Gwynedd against Cynwrig. I do not wish to ever see such sights again.”
With the anger on the verge of bursting forth Siweard said, “You seem to forget I was there too. I saw many of those sights long before you stumbled upon them. I saw them as they were happening.”
A wave of guilt came over Siweard, and I could do nothing to stop them. I could not let myself be seen or captured. Or was I just afraid?
“I was out there ahead of the army searching for Cynwrig and looking for ways to bring him to heel. I understand why the king needs unchallenged power to protect the realm from butchers such as the former Count of Gwynedd.”
Mockingly Cytelbearn said, “It is easy for you to talk about such protection. Your county is nestled up alongside York. Your protection is guaranteed. What of my protection? I rule an island in the Irish Sea. I am surrounded by Irish, Scottish, English, Occitians, and Upplanders. Eadwine’s county borders the English. It will be our lands that will bare the brunt of any wars caused by our king’s unchallenged poor decisions.”
Squeezing the cup of ale Siweard said, “Any misfortunes you incur will be of your own doing. You spend more time schemeing than ruling your lands properly.”
Eadwine placed his hands on the table and used them to support himself as he leaned over the table toward his father, “That is a fine statement coming from a Earl who has hardly been in his county for the last fifteen, twenty years. What has it been a week or two every two or three years?”
With his breaking point near Siweard hissed, “I have served my kings faithfully because that is my obligation. Your step mother Gyla until her death, and now your brother Oswulf have ruled as regents in my place. While I may not have been there in person they have acted with my knowledge and consent and at my direction.”
Leaning back and taking his seat Eadwine said, “You are such an ass, father. These kings use you and toss you aside like a bad piece of fruit when you are no longer of any use to them. Look what happened to you when Eilif had that hunchbacked woman questioning everything you did. Eilif sent you back to Lincoln like a disobedient puppy.”
The anger finally boiled over and combined with the wine Siweard lost his composure. He leapt to his feet. In one motion he reached across the table and grabbed Eadwine by the throat and dragged him half a cross the table. Eadwine surprised by the suddenness of the attack was paralyzed. Cytelbearn also stunned at the speed of his father nearly fell backwards off the bench he had been sitting upon..
*****
Earl Emrys of Glamorgan leaned against a column with a cup of ale in his hand. He silently watched the various lords and ladies of the realm as they moved around the great hall. Here and there he heard bits of conversations. He took a sip from his cup. As he lowered the cup he suddenly realized a woman was standing before him.
“Countess Sif, please pardon me. I did not see you standing there.”
Sif of Gwent smiled and replied, “No apologies needed Earl Emerys. I have been trying to speak with you all evening.”
Emrys smiled, “What would such a lovely lady need to speak with an old warhorse such as I?”
Sif chuckled, “It is a matter that has been a point of many conversations this day and evening.”
Inwardly disgusted Emrys said, “Our new maligned sovereign.”
With the smile now turning into a smirk Sif said, “Maligned that is an interesting way of describing him.”
Shrugging his shoulders Emrys asked, “Why do say such a thing?”
Surprised by Emrys seeming lack of interest Sif responded, “He is a fool who will lead us to our doom.”
Growing tired of the conversation Emrys shifted his body on the column and replied, “That seems somewhat harsh and dramatic.”
Still trying to gauge the earl Sif said, “You may think so but remember how he acted while he was being supposedly groomed to be king. He embarrassed his father on numerous occasions and acted in his own self interest most of the time.”
Running his hand through his beard Emrys said, “He was young back then and didn't know better.”
Tensing because now she would have to ask about something she loathed Sif inquired, “What of his proclamation regarding using Anglo-Saxon names and titles over the Norse names?”
With no outward sign of emotion Emrys smiled, “It matters not to me. I am Welsh.”
Emrys noticed something happening at one of the tables.
Desperately trying to convince Emrys to take her seriously Sif continued with her questions, “How can you trust him? I know you desire to be on council or become the Duke of Gwynedd or Deheubarth or both. Do you think he will ever grant you your desires?”
Becoming more and more interested in the conversation at the table Emrys answered, “If I serve him well perhaps he will. Do you think you ever become Duchess of Deheubarth?”
Getting red in the face some Sif replied, “Only if the Council is stronger and can keep the king in check.”
Now annoyed Emrys looked Sif dead in the eyes, “That is what this is about. Gaining support to make the Council stronger.”
Relieved that he finally understood Sif said, “Yes, the Council needs to be able to stop him from foolish decisions.”
Emrys sighed, “I believe in giving a person a chance. Take King Eilif for example. My father Count Padern felt the same way you do about Rædwald. He did not trust him and felt that the Council needed more power. However, he found Eilif to be the opposite. Eilif conquered the County of Powys for him.”
Attempting one last time Sif asked, “Didn’t your father eventually feel that Eilif needed to be controlled?”
The conversation at the table was becoming much more lively. He now could recognize the men involved as Siweard and his sons.
Placing his hand on Sif’ shoulder and looking beyond her Emrys answered, “That was at the end of his life. Many times in those days he was not of his right mind.”
Siweard reached across the table and grabbed Eadwine.
Emrys was past Sif who stood frozen fuming. In five quick steps Emrys was at the table.
Angrily Siweard said, “You know nothing of what you speak. Those were troubling times and I made my peace with Eilif.”
Emrys stood next to Cytelbearn, “Is there something I can be of assistance with?”
Looking up at Emrys while still holding Eadwine Siweard said, “No” and flung Eadwine back across the table. Eadwine tripped over the bench and fell over it landing on his back. He quickly rose and began to move toward the table. He found Emrys blocking him.
Siweard looked at his sons with disgust, “You fools do as you wish. When you find yourself on the wrong side of the sword I will not be able to help you.”
Siweard turned and left the great hall. Emrys looked at Eadwine and Cytelbearn and shook his head, “You should listen to your father. He knows a great many things.He has been a Spymaster to three kings now.”
Helping his brother to his feet Cytelbearn said, “You are as big a fool as he is.”
Emrys stared at Cytelbearn, “We will see someday who is the bigger fool.”
Emrys turned and followed Siweard out of the hall.
Direct Vassals of Jorvik
Europe December 1000
Fraticelli heresy
Afternoon
The Cathedral of St. Jourdain was decorated with all the trappings fit for a royal ceremony. Banners of all the duchies and counties of the realm adorned the walls. The banners of the Kingdom of Jorvik and the House of Hvitserk flanked the altar. Before the altar two ornate chairs were placed.
The nave was crowded with the various lords from within and without the realm. As a friend of King Eilif and a member of his Council Siweard was afforded an honored place near the altar with Rædwald’s siblings. Siweard knew it was not just honor but that he also had a task to perform.
Beside Siweard stood Prince Hlothere, Rædwald’s brother. The young prince had only come of age five months ago when he turned 16. He had accompanied his mother Eadhild from Ludlow. Since he was now heir to the throne he would not be accompanying her if she chose to return to Ludlow and the Duchy of Powys. Rædwald felt that his brother could profit spending some time with Siweard.
Siweard looked at the young prince, Rædwald is right. He is not ready to be Crown Prince and most definitely not ready to be King. Siweard shot a despairing glance at Eadhild who was standing with her other bastard children by Eilif, adult daughter Ælfthryth and seven year old son Swæfræd. Too long Eadhild you have sheltered your children from the realities of court and the world they were born into. Your protection of Rædwald hampers him. By the time Eilif wretched him away from you bad habits and traits had set in. Eilif and I spent years trying to undo those which would bring him trouble and ruin. I see the same habits in Hlothere and I fear I may not have the time to root them out of him.
As Siweard looked at Ælfthryth and Swæfræd his fact soften. Pity and remorse filled his soul. Ælfthryth and Swæfræd the lost children of Eilif. Poor Ælfthryth, the daughter Eilif could never acknowledge or legitimize. He tried many times to make it up to you. His efforts to find you a suitable husband were thwarted by your over protective mother. Perhaps your brother will have better luck. Swæfræd, at least Eilif was able to acknowledge you. It was not all Ingrid’s fault he did not legitimize your birth. Some if not a large portion of the blame goes to your mother. He tired of her interfering with his attempts to prepare Rædwald and Hlothere for their places in his court and the kingdom.
Siweard returned his gaze to Hlothere, “I hope you found your time with your Great Aunt Eadburg useful and enlightening.”
Nervously Hlothere replied, “Yes I did.”
Smirking Siweard said, “Let’s see.” Siweard paused for a moment knowing full well he was driving Hlothere a little crazy. “Who was Eadburg’s husband?”
Chuckling Hlothere boastfully answered, “Prince Totil.”
Siweard shot right back, “And who was Prince Totil?”
Still basking in his quick answer to Siweard’s first question Hlothere was almost caught off guard and paused for a moment before responding, “He was brother to King Sigfrið and Jarl of Lancaster before father was.” Pride swept across the young prince’s face.
Siweard smirked his evilest smirk, Time to smack that smugness off your face.
Pointing to a group standing in another section reserved for honored guest Siweard asked, “Who are those men and women?”
Too easy old man. Hlothere replied, “They are representatives from several nearby kingdoms whose kings were unable to attend.”
Showing no reaction Siweard said, “You were in attendance at the reception the other night welcoming these representatives to the palace. I believe you were Eadburg’s escort.”
Losing some of bravado because he no was longer sure of where Siweard was taking the conversation, “Yes you know I was. You arranged it.”
Displaying some attitude. Siweard stated, “I hope you were listening.”
Panic was starting to build. Hlothere felt his palms beginning to sweat. He had been too interested in watching the pretty women at the reception that giving his great aunt his undivided attention. “Yes I was,” he stammered.
Almost on the verge of laughter Siweard snapped, “We shall see.”
Hlothere felt a lump building in his throat.
Revealing in making the young prince uncomfortable Siweard continued, “I will point out a representative and you will tell me who they are, what kingdom they are from, who is the king, and why the king is not present.”
Hlothere suddenly felt very warm. His throat was dry. All he could do was nod.
A smiling Siweard said, “Good.” Tugging on his short grey beard, “Let’s see. Where to begin?”
“Yes, there.” Pointing Siweard said, “the one in the blue with the white and red lion.”
Hlothere let out the breath he had been holding. The man pointed out by Siweard was someone he spent a good deal of timing speaking with at the reception. He was the one who tried to talk me into learning how to play chess.
“He is Count Thietmar of Thüringen, Chancellor to King Karl III of East Francia. King Karl is aiding Chief Kolman of Weligrad against High Chief Bajoras III of Pruthenia who is trying to conquer Weligrad.”
Impressed Siweard nodded several times. “Now how about the one in the blue with the gold lion?”
Another one I spoke with. He kept asking about Birgitta, my half-sister. It was strange since she is only 9 years old. Hlothere answered, “Goeffroy de Forze. He is an acknowledge bastard of King Sigismond of Burgundy. Sigismond is fighting a Holy War for Hälsingland against King Snorri of Småland.”
Knowing things were now going to get difficult, Siweard again tugged his beard. I too was at the reception and I was watching you Prince. I knew you had conversations with Thietmar and Geoffroy. Now let us see how you do with the ones you only meet briefly or Eadburg told you about.
“The one in clerical robes.”
Hlothere hesitated. He did not speak with the man but Eadburg did introduce him. Hlothere rubbed the back of his neck.
Siweard said, “Well?”
Trying desperately to recall Hlothere muttered, “He is a bishop and brother of King Diogo II of Galicia.”
Shaking his head Siweard said, “His name is Prince Fernando and he is Bishop of Valencia de Campus. Do you know why King Diogo is not here?”
Hlothere perked up, “He is fighting a Holy for Navarra against the heathen Muslim King Uqess’un of Asturias.”
Siweard glared at Hlothere, “Disappointing. When you are introduced to a representative from another kingdom it is very important for you to remember. Forgetting a name could be taken as an insult and result in bad relations with that kingdom. Do you understand?”
Looking down Hlothere responded, “Yes.”
Siweard asked, “Shall we continued?”
Without raising his eyes from the floor Hlothere replied, “No.”
Siweard eyes opened wide, “No?”
Still looking down Hlothere answered, “I do not remember who the man is in the red with the gold loin.”
Siweard sighed, “Look at me.” Hlothere still continued looking down. Siweard grabbed Hlothere’s chin and forced his head up. “I said look at me.”
Sheepishly Hlothere, “Yes.”
Siweard let his chin go. “He is High Chief Þorgil of Orkney and is Chancellor for King Grim of Norge. KIng Grim is battling Gnupa of Orknö who is trying to conquer Telemark. It is the second time the Orcadians have tried for Telemark.”
Siweard was going to continue but took a look at Hlothere. The prince appeared beaten and somewhat deflated. Siweard took pity on him. “That is enough.”
Relieved Hlothere said, “Thank you Earl Siweard.”
In a very serious tone, “There is one more thing I want to remember. King Evrard of Aquitaine and King Ewan III of Scotland we also invited. We knew they could not attend due to wars they are involved in, but still extended the invitation expecting them to send representatives. Both refused outright to come or send someone. You cannot trust so called friends like that.”
Hlothere weakly replied, “Yes.”
Siweard patted him on the back and said, “You may go now.”
With his head down slightly Hlothere made his way to his mother.
Once Hlothere vacated the spot next to Siweard, Ingrid stepped in.
Smiling she said, “I never knew you to take pity on a student.”
Chuckling Siweard said, “I was going to ask him about the Irish lords but he look like he would soil himself if I did.”
Ingrid laughed a little and then quickly stopped herself. “When Hjalmar is old enough I would like you to test him on his knowledge of the neighboring monarchs.”
Siweard returned her smile, “At your service milady.”
Ingrid rubbed her chin, “And now of those Irish lords let’s see there is the new Chief of Ulaidh, Ségíne. If I remember correctly his father Garalt died of natural causes five months ago. Then there is Earl Cathal of Tír Eoghain. I am truly surprised that King Rogallach of Connachta is attending given his past history with Eilif.”
Nodding Siweard said, “Maybe you should be instructing the young princes.”
Slightly bowing Ingrid said, “Why thank you Spymaster. Now why are these lords here? Eilif fought and won tribute wars against each. You would think they would never come near a Jorvikian king.”
Looking like at another dignitary Siweard replied, “Like King Gregor of Cornwall over there. They all fear King Ealdmund of England or King Evrard of Aquitaine. Despite the current war they still worry about King Karl of Uppland. Better to be a tributary of Jorvik than conquered by England, Aquitaine, or Uppland where they may not be a ruler of any kind.”
Grabbing Siweard’s arm with both hands Ingrid smiled and said, “That is why you are the Spymaster of Jorvik.”
Pointing at a lord in blue with gold trim standing away from the others Siweard said, “Then there is King Renaud of France. Notice how the other representatives avoid him. They treat him as if he has a communicable disease.” He chuckled, “Or at least in public they do.”
Ingrid looked at Renaud, “Why do they treat him so?”
Siweard turned and looked toward the altar, “They fear that he will be excommunicated at anytime.”
Ingrid followed Siweard’s gaze, “So they do not want to be associated with him as they fear papal retribution could be brought upon them.”
Siweard smiled, “You would be a good spymaster as your reasoning is correct.”
Ingrid tilted her head and looked at the Spymaster, “If Pope Silvester had given the help King Renaud asked for to eliminate the Fraticelli heresy outbreak in Lotharingia there would have been no need for Renaud to take the actions he has.”
Siweard replied, “many would consider naming your own pope as going too far.”
Ingrid looked back at the altar, “Does this so call Pope Innocentius II of Laon have any real power?”
Siweard looked at the altar and then back to Renaud, “Inside France he wields power because the king wills it. Within France he has been able to rally support against King Centle II of Lotharingia and the heretics. His influence is growing in some of the counties bordering France. Renaud is not the only one concerned about the spread of the heresy.”
Looking at the thrones and then back to Siweard, “If Renaud is such a problem then why was he invited?”
Faking surprise Siweard looked at Ingrid, “Have you forgotten the long history of friendship between Jorvik and France? Rædwald has plans that involve France.”
Ingrid smiled, “Being very mysterious aren’t we?”
Siweard returned the smile but before he could answer the nave suddenly grew silent. A moment later a parade of acolytes entered the nave. The ceremony had begun.
Evening
The coronation feast had gone well into the evening. There was what seemed like endless food and drink. It was night full of speeches and entertainment of all kind.
Siweard was feeling one too many cups of wine. He had to take a moment to steady himself. He sat down on a bench with a thud. He rested his elbows on the table and held his chin in his hands. A serving wench placed a cup of ale before him. He looked at the ale as if it was a witch’s brew.
Siweard was startled out of his mental battle with the witch’s brew by the sound of someone sitting on the other side of the table. He looked up to see two his sons, Earl Eadwine of Cumberland and Duke Cytelbearn of Mann.
“Greetings father, “ said an obviously innebrated Eadwine.
Cytelbearn just smiled at his father as he placed his cup of ale on the table spilling about half of it as he did so.
Cytelbearn looked at Siweard and then Eadwine and said, “Look here Eadwine it is our father. The only member of our family who backs this new king without question.”
Siweard looked at his son and said, “Cytelbearn you are drunk. You should find your way to your chambers before you do something foolish.”
Cytelbearn glared at Siweard, “And if I don’t what do I have to fear?”
Eadwine interrupted, “Perhaps he is afraid to hear how his new king is viewed.”
Snickering Cytelbearn asked, “And brother how would that be?”
Leaning back and throwing his arms out Eadwine responded, “As an arrogant fool who will lead us to ruin.”
Nodding Cytelbearn said, “Here, here, you are so correct.”
In a voice with an edge to it Siweard said, “Careful with your words boys. You are bordering on .treason.”
With a loud snort Cytelbearn said, “Treason? Treason to who? A king who has shown himself to place his personal wants before those of the kingdom and its lords? A king who wields far too much power?”
With anger beginning to boil Siweard said, “A king who needs to be strong and needs no shackles holding him back when he needs to be decisive. You may not care for his decisions and actions but he is king and does not answer to you. You answer to him.”
Glaring at his father Eadwine said, “In that statement lies the issue. He needs to account himself to the lords of the realm. If not it will lead to tyranny and ruin.”
Now it was Cytelbearn turn to glare and say, “Remember I have seen tyranny at its worst. I was with King Eilif in Gwynedd against Cynwrig. I do not wish to ever see such sights again.”
With the anger on the verge of bursting forth Siweard said, “You seem to forget I was there too. I saw many of those sights long before you stumbled upon them. I saw them as they were happening.”
A wave of guilt came over Siweard, and I could do nothing to stop them. I could not let myself be seen or captured. Or was I just afraid?
“I was out there ahead of the army searching for Cynwrig and looking for ways to bring him to heel. I understand why the king needs unchallenged power to protect the realm from butchers such as the former Count of Gwynedd.”
Mockingly Cytelbearn said, “It is easy for you to talk about such protection. Your county is nestled up alongside York. Your protection is guaranteed. What of my protection? I rule an island in the Irish Sea. I am surrounded by Irish, Scottish, English, Occitians, and Upplanders. Eadwine’s county borders the English. It will be our lands that will bare the brunt of any wars caused by our king’s unchallenged poor decisions.”
Squeezing the cup of ale Siweard said, “Any misfortunes you incur will be of your own doing. You spend more time schemeing than ruling your lands properly.”
Eadwine placed his hands on the table and used them to support himself as he leaned over the table toward his father, “That is a fine statement coming from a Earl who has hardly been in his county for the last fifteen, twenty years. What has it been a week or two every two or three years?”
With his breaking point near Siweard hissed, “I have served my kings faithfully because that is my obligation. Your step mother Gyla until her death, and now your brother Oswulf have ruled as regents in my place. While I may not have been there in person they have acted with my knowledge and consent and at my direction.”
Leaning back and taking his seat Eadwine said, “You are such an ass, father. These kings use you and toss you aside like a bad piece of fruit when you are no longer of any use to them. Look what happened to you when Eilif had that hunchbacked woman questioning everything you did. Eilif sent you back to Lincoln like a disobedient puppy.”
The anger finally boiled over and combined with the wine Siweard lost his composure. He leapt to his feet. In one motion he reached across the table and grabbed Eadwine by the throat and dragged him half a cross the table. Eadwine surprised by the suddenness of the attack was paralyzed. Cytelbearn also stunned at the speed of his father nearly fell backwards off the bench he had been sitting upon..
*****
Earl Emrys of Glamorgan leaned against a column with a cup of ale in his hand. He silently watched the various lords and ladies of the realm as they moved around the great hall. Here and there he heard bits of conversations. He took a sip from his cup. As he lowered the cup he suddenly realized a woman was standing before him.
“Countess Sif, please pardon me. I did not see you standing there.”
Sif of Gwent smiled and replied, “No apologies needed Earl Emerys. I have been trying to speak with you all evening.”
Emrys smiled, “What would such a lovely lady need to speak with an old warhorse such as I?”
Sif chuckled, “It is a matter that has been a point of many conversations this day and evening.”
Inwardly disgusted Emrys said, “Our new maligned sovereign.”
With the smile now turning into a smirk Sif said, “Maligned that is an interesting way of describing him.”
Shrugging his shoulders Emrys asked, “Why do say such a thing?”
Surprised by Emrys seeming lack of interest Sif responded, “He is a fool who will lead us to our doom.”
Growing tired of the conversation Emrys shifted his body on the column and replied, “That seems somewhat harsh and dramatic.”
Still trying to gauge the earl Sif said, “You may think so but remember how he acted while he was being supposedly groomed to be king. He embarrassed his father on numerous occasions and acted in his own self interest most of the time.”
Running his hand through his beard Emrys said, “He was young back then and didn't know better.”
Tensing because now she would have to ask about something she loathed Sif inquired, “What of his proclamation regarding using Anglo-Saxon names and titles over the Norse names?”
With no outward sign of emotion Emrys smiled, “It matters not to me. I am Welsh.”
Emrys noticed something happening at one of the tables.
Desperately trying to convince Emrys to take her seriously Sif continued with her questions, “How can you trust him? I know you desire to be on council or become the Duke of Gwynedd or Deheubarth or both. Do you think he will ever grant you your desires?”
Becoming more and more interested in the conversation at the table Emrys answered, “If I serve him well perhaps he will. Do you think you ever become Duchess of Deheubarth?”
Getting red in the face some Sif replied, “Only if the Council is stronger and can keep the king in check.”
Now annoyed Emrys looked Sif dead in the eyes, “That is what this is about. Gaining support to make the Council stronger.”
Relieved that he finally understood Sif said, “Yes, the Council needs to be able to stop him from foolish decisions.”
Emrys sighed, “I believe in giving a person a chance. Take King Eilif for example. My father Count Padern felt the same way you do about Rædwald. He did not trust him and felt that the Council needed more power. However, he found Eilif to be the opposite. Eilif conquered the County of Powys for him.”
Attempting one last time Sif asked, “Didn’t your father eventually feel that Eilif needed to be controlled?”
The conversation at the table was becoming much more lively. He now could recognize the men involved as Siweard and his sons.
Placing his hand on Sif’ shoulder and looking beyond her Emrys answered, “That was at the end of his life. Many times in those days he was not of his right mind.”
Siweard reached across the table and grabbed Eadwine.
Emrys was past Sif who stood frozen fuming. In five quick steps Emrys was at the table.
Angrily Siweard said, “You know nothing of what you speak. Those were troubling times and I made my peace with Eilif.”
Emrys stood next to Cytelbearn, “Is there something I can be of assistance with?”
Looking up at Emrys while still holding Eadwine Siweard said, “No” and flung Eadwine back across the table. Eadwine tripped over the bench and fell over it landing on his back. He quickly rose and began to move toward the table. He found Emrys blocking him.
Siweard looked at his sons with disgust, “You fools do as you wish. When you find yourself on the wrong side of the sword I will not be able to help you.”
Siweard turned and left the great hall. Emrys looked at Eadwine and Cytelbearn and shook his head, “You should listen to your father. He knows a great many things.He has been a Spymaster to three kings now.”
Helping his brother to his feet Cytelbearn said, “You are as big a fool as he is.”
Emrys stared at Cytelbearn, “We will see someday who is the bigger fool.”
Emrys turned and followed Siweard out of the hall.
Direct Vassals of Jorvik
Europe December 1000
Fraticelli heresy
- 1
A great device to show us what is going on internationally.
I do feel rather sorry for Siweard.
I do feel rather sorry for Siweard.
- 1
A good method to remind us of some characters and their place in the story.
So, Cytelbearn turns Eilif to a friend and then plots the destruction of his son? Quite the heel turn, though it certainly did happen. Nobody has really been able to get much traction in actually causing a rebellion in Jorvik, however. It makes me agree with Siweard here - his sons are being fools.
So, Cytelbearn turns Eilif to a friend and then plots the destruction of his son? Quite the heel turn, though it certainly did happen. Nobody has really been able to get much traction in actually causing a rebellion in Jorvik, however. It makes me agree with Siweard here - his sons are being fools.
- 1
Thanks for the compliment. I completely rewrote the chapter. Originally I just described the visiting dignitaries. Then after not liking the chapter I thought that since Hlothere had come of age and was now crown prince it was time to test him.
Siweard has some troubling times coming up while the king is relying on him.
Once Eilf died and Rædwald became king his feeling toward Rædwald dropped and he started joining factions.
I used the feast scene to begin introducing or reintroducing the various characters that are going to play a role in some big events coming. Just remember Rædwald is not his father.
When there is an AAR to write the more the merrier.
The next chapter is taking me sometime to get ready for posting. I have been dealing with a family health issue that has finally taken a good turn after six months of being on pins and needles. But there is still a long road to travel to get things close to the way they were. Then I did not like the way the chapter read so I rewrote a big part of it again. I need to do another proofread and then it should be posted.
The new king assumes the crown. All around him schemes and plots. Nothing is at it seems. Even the schemers find doubts and conflicts.
- 1
Chapter 7.1.4 19 December 1000 York
19 December 1000 York
As there was no planned use of the keep’s chapel it was empty. A few candles burned giving the room an creepy aura. A lone figure sat in one of the pews toward the rear. He appeared to be in deep private meditation.
A woman slipped into the chapel and sat in the pew behind the man.
Without turning in a low voice just above a whisper the man said, “Countess Maria of Hereford, it is so nice of you to join me in prayer and reflection on this day.”
In a similarly low voice and with a chuckle Maria replied, “Here in the capital plotting and scheming is called prayer and reflection? It appears that I have been away from here for far too long. Wouldn’t you say Duke Loefweald?”
Smiling himself Leofweald said, “Before embarking on a great task one must pray for guidance and reflect upon the task and its course and possible outcomes.”
Leaning slightly forward Maria asked, “And what have your reflections told you?”
Turning in the pew to face Maria, Leofweald responded, “We are in for troubling times. “
Sitting back in the pew Maria said, “That we are. We have a newly crowned king that very few have confidence in his ability to rule without assistance. Even before he was crowned he had alienated many of the most powerful lords of the realm.”
Slightly agitated Leofweald said, “The Norse lords are too overly concerned about the Title Proclamation. It is meaningless decree that in the long run has little effect on the kingdom. What is the bother with being called an Earl instead of a Count. You still rule a county. The continued disgruntledness over the proclamation by the Norse lords will drive a wedge between them and the Anglo-Saxon and Welsh lords. The Anglo-Saxon lords feel they now have some standing within the kingdom. As far as the names of towns and counties unless you are deaf the Anglo-Saxon names are being used by the people more and more often.”
Shifting himself in the pew so he could look directly into Maria’s eyes. Raising his voice Leofweald continued, “I care not whether I am called Jarl of Northumberland or Duke of Northumbria. What I do care about is the protection of my duchy from those who crave it. I worry about the English to the north. The very English who allowed and supported Duchess Cuthburg of Lothian stealing of my father’s lands of the County of Lothian.”
Leofweald now squeezed the top of the pew with his hand so hard it began to turn white as he spoke, “ King Ealdmund who I remind you is a member of the House of Northumbria, looks at my duchy with jealous eyes. He wishes to reclaim the birthplace of his house.”
Maria retreated back into the pew as far as she could. Eyeing the duke with caution she responded, “You are also of the House of Northumbria. Your father Ælfweard was the brother of King Eanhere who is the father of King Ealdmund.”
Leofweald let go of the pew and sat back in the pew. He chuckled, “We are considered traitors by King Ealdmund and his court. My father was installed as Jarl by a faction that was fully supported by King Sigfrið. We have ruled under Jorvikian lordship since then.”
Maria folded her hands and placed them in her lap, “Do you think Rædwald will protect your lands?”
Leofweald scratch his chin through his beard and said, “I truly am unsure. Eilif promised to do so but when I was faced with a revolt by Count Markus of Dunholm no help came from the king. I received some gold here and there but no real help. The war dragged on for seven long years before Markus was captured. Eilif promised on numerous occasions to attack Ealdmund but never did so. When asked, Rædwald will not commit to any action against Ealdmund.”
Smiling Maria said, “All the reason to join our cause. If the counsel has more power it can prevent Rædwald from going off on some whim. It can force him to deal with the English.”
Sighing Leofweald said, “Or the Council could ignore my plight and join with him in some other scheme.”
Maria’s face became serious, “You are a member of the Council you can guide the council to the decision that helps you the best.”
Feeling torn in his allegiance Leofweald said, “I am the Chancellor of Jorvik. If I join such a faction it will be seen as self serving and possible treasonous.”
Maria took he hands from her lap and placed them on the seat of the pew to brace herself as she leaned forward, “You would not be the only counsel member in the faction.”
Leofweald looked at Maria suspiciously. Does she know something now that I do not. “I am aware of Duke Anlaufr of Powys and Duke Cytelbearn of Mann’s displeasure with the king thus far. I did not know they have joined with you.”
Smiling Maria replied, “They have not yet. It is only a matter of time before they do. And when they do what will be your decision?”
Unsure of what he would decided Leofweald answered, “I would have to pray and reflect on my choices before I acted.”
Somewhat disappointed Maria said, “Do not pray and reflect too long. This opportunity will pass by very quickly.”
Leofweald chuckled, “Do not allow yourself to become blinded by your cause. Yourself, Earl Hrolfr of Westmoreland and Earl Æthelweald of Gloucester are all one county lords. You do not wield much power or influence. You are a mere annoyance to the king.”
Very defensively Maria retorted, “Others will join. You do not want to be on the wrong side of this.”
Trying of the conversation Leofweald turned away from Maria and looked at the small altar, “As I said I will pray for guidance before any decision is made.”
Maria stood and said, “I am sure God will direct you to the righteous cause.”
She then walked out of the pew and left the chapel, leaving Leofweald alone.
Leofweald sat in the pew motionless. He closed his eyes hoping to find solace. He prayed for an answer or a sign. When none came he open his eyes and rose from the pew. He stepped out of the chapel.
To his surprise as he entered the corridor he came face to face with his wife, “Bodil my love what are you doing here?”
Bodil looked at him. Her eyes were full of rage. Her fists were clenched, “My dear husband I was about to ask you the same.”
Trying not to relieve any emotions Leofweald said, “I sought some time for prayer and reflection before the swearing of fidelity to the king later this morning.”
Looking Leofweald straight in the eyes Bodil asked, “Did Countess Maria have the same idea?”
Concerned that his wife might know that he was considering Maria’s offer Leofweald placed his hands on Bodil’s upper arms and said, “Yes she did.”
Still looking in his eyes Bodil asked, “There was no talk of factions and plots.”
Smiling Leofweald replied, “No there was no talks of factions or plots or schemes.”
Not convinced Bodil grabbed his wrist and removed his hands from her arms, “Do not take me for a fool. We have been married far too long for that.”
Leofweald stepped back, “I would never do that.”
Bodil stepped toward Leofweald and placed her hands against his chest and pushed him, “Do not mock me.”
Leofweald stepped further back and began to speak but Bodil interrupted him, “I know you conspire with her or are thinking about it. I implore you not to do so. You risk far more than you realize. You want protection from the English. Do you not have it now? If Ealdmund attacks will Rædwald not come to your aid? He is your leige lord and obligated to protect you. If you join with Maria and fail who will protect you from Rædwald’s wraith? Who will protect your children? Who will protect me? If you don't find yourself on the executioner's block you will be in a dungeon. If you are stripped of your titles what will happen to us. I do not want to find myself at the mercy of new vengeful lord or begging in a German court or worse yet your English cousins.”
Leofweald reached and an grabbed her wrist, “It will not come to that.”
Trying to break his grip Bodil said, “How do you know that?”
Leofweald held strong, “If there is a demand letter sent to Rædwald he will have to give in. He will not be strong enough to fight a revolt. If he does resist he will lose.”
Bodil finally broke free, “You are a fool. Mark my words you will regret joining with her.”
Bodil turned and hurried away from Leofweald.
Leofweald stood stunned.
Am I making a mistake? I feel I will lose either way. No matter what the kingdom will be in a war with England and my lands will bear the brunt of any campaigns. The only question is will the kingdom be attacking or defending.
Leofweald more unsure of himself than ever followed Bodil down the corridor.
*****
Earl Bo of Leicester stood in a back corner of the great hall. He was trying to avoid the festivities as much as he could. It was another feast; this one for those the king appointed today. The events of the day had him perplexed. He had thought that he was ready for anything but not for what transpired. The swearing of oaths of fidelity of the Dukes and Earls to King Rædwald went without any surprises. Each lord approached the king and swore his oath. When it was his turn Bo swore his oath as required questioning inwardly how long he may actually keep it. The appointment, however, had taken him by complete surprise.
Lost in thought Bo did not notice Bishop Hrolfr of Burton approaching him.
With a smile the old bishop-general asked, “Earl Bo how does it feel to now be a commander of the realm.”
With a smile of his own Bo replied, “I am not sure. The feeling is still settling in. I am not sure if I deserve such an honor.”
Hrolfr nodded, “I am sure you did, why else would be appointed?”
Bo pulled at his mustache and then his beard, “Given my family’s past history with the kings of Jorvik I would have never expected an appointment from Rædwald.”
Hrolfr stepped back to lean against a column, “Perhaps Rædwald is extending an olive branch.”
Bo shifted his weight and looked at Hrolfr, “It is a hollow offer. I will never see an actual command.”
It was Hrolfr who now stroke his mustache, “Why do you say that?”
Bo snickered, With the other commanders like yourself, Emrys, Cytelbearn, Siweard, and Mayor Ivor of Carmarthen the likelyhood of me commanding is small. Even Beorhthelm has had experience with command during the Irish wars. When my father’s levies were raised I was not permitted to go with them. I commanded small detachments that went against a few raiders or disgruntled peasants.”
Hrolfr leaned forward, “Beorhthelm only was only a sub commander. He commanded small levies. He was also Rædwald’s weapons trainer. He is now Court Physician so his time to command will not be great.”
Bo looked at Hrolfr and asked, “Then why appoint him?”
Hrolfr looked back Bo and replied, “I doubt he will command on his own. He will only accompany Rædwald if the king decides to campaign himself. That is why he was made court physician.”
Bo snickered, “So the king protects himself. Just like him to put himself before others.”
Hrolfr shook his head, “If I were you I would take his olive branch. The opportunity may never come your again.”
Bo Stepped toward Hrolfr, “I do not like someone,even a king, who think that I can be easily bought with a useless title.”
Hrolfr leaned back against the column, “Who will led your cause. I know Maria of Hereford will compose the demand letter but she is no field commander. Anlaufr?”
Hrolfr stepped toward Bo and looked him straight in the eyes, “Do not put your trust in Anlaufr. He may be Marshal but I have served with him and know better. You have more field experience than him. The only campaigns he lead were started by others. Eilif always chose Arthways, and Þorgil over him to command in the field. When they were not around Eilif lead himself. Anlaufr is great at organizing and training but not much else.”
Before Bo could reply Hrolfr turned and walked away. Bo stood with his arms down and his fist clenched. After Hrolfr disappeared into the crowd Bo turned and left the great hall his mind made up.
As there was no planned use of the keep’s chapel it was empty. A few candles burned giving the room an creepy aura. A lone figure sat in one of the pews toward the rear. He appeared to be in deep private meditation.
A woman slipped into the chapel and sat in the pew behind the man.
Without turning in a low voice just above a whisper the man said, “Countess Maria of Hereford, it is so nice of you to join me in prayer and reflection on this day.”
In a similarly low voice and with a chuckle Maria replied, “Here in the capital plotting and scheming is called prayer and reflection? It appears that I have been away from here for far too long. Wouldn’t you say Duke Loefweald?”
Smiling himself Leofweald said, “Before embarking on a great task one must pray for guidance and reflect upon the task and its course and possible outcomes.”
Leaning slightly forward Maria asked, “And what have your reflections told you?”
Turning in the pew to face Maria, Leofweald responded, “We are in for troubling times. “
Sitting back in the pew Maria said, “That we are. We have a newly crowned king that very few have confidence in his ability to rule without assistance. Even before he was crowned he had alienated many of the most powerful lords of the realm.”
Slightly agitated Leofweald said, “The Norse lords are too overly concerned about the Title Proclamation. It is meaningless decree that in the long run has little effect on the kingdom. What is the bother with being called an Earl instead of a Count. You still rule a county. The continued disgruntledness over the proclamation by the Norse lords will drive a wedge between them and the Anglo-Saxon and Welsh lords. The Anglo-Saxon lords feel they now have some standing within the kingdom. As far as the names of towns and counties unless you are deaf the Anglo-Saxon names are being used by the people more and more often.”
Shifting himself in the pew so he could look directly into Maria’s eyes. Raising his voice Leofweald continued, “I care not whether I am called Jarl of Northumberland or Duke of Northumbria. What I do care about is the protection of my duchy from those who crave it. I worry about the English to the north. The very English who allowed and supported Duchess Cuthburg of Lothian stealing of my father’s lands of the County of Lothian.”
Leofweald now squeezed the top of the pew with his hand so hard it began to turn white as he spoke, “ King Ealdmund who I remind you is a member of the House of Northumbria, looks at my duchy with jealous eyes. He wishes to reclaim the birthplace of his house.”
Maria retreated back into the pew as far as she could. Eyeing the duke with caution she responded, “You are also of the House of Northumbria. Your father Ælfweard was the brother of King Eanhere who is the father of King Ealdmund.”
Leofweald let go of the pew and sat back in the pew. He chuckled, “We are considered traitors by King Ealdmund and his court. My father was installed as Jarl by a faction that was fully supported by King Sigfrið. We have ruled under Jorvikian lordship since then.”
Maria folded her hands and placed them in her lap, “Do you think Rædwald will protect your lands?”
Leofweald scratch his chin through his beard and said, “I truly am unsure. Eilif promised to do so but when I was faced with a revolt by Count Markus of Dunholm no help came from the king. I received some gold here and there but no real help. The war dragged on for seven long years before Markus was captured. Eilif promised on numerous occasions to attack Ealdmund but never did so. When asked, Rædwald will not commit to any action against Ealdmund.”
Smiling Maria said, “All the reason to join our cause. If the counsel has more power it can prevent Rædwald from going off on some whim. It can force him to deal with the English.”
Sighing Leofweald said, “Or the Council could ignore my plight and join with him in some other scheme.”
Maria’s face became serious, “You are a member of the Council you can guide the council to the decision that helps you the best.”
Feeling torn in his allegiance Leofweald said, “I am the Chancellor of Jorvik. If I join such a faction it will be seen as self serving and possible treasonous.”
Maria took he hands from her lap and placed them on the seat of the pew to brace herself as she leaned forward, “You would not be the only counsel member in the faction.”
Leofweald looked at Maria suspiciously. Does she know something now that I do not. “I am aware of Duke Anlaufr of Powys and Duke Cytelbearn of Mann’s displeasure with the king thus far. I did not know they have joined with you.”
Smiling Maria replied, “They have not yet. It is only a matter of time before they do. And when they do what will be your decision?”
Unsure of what he would decided Leofweald answered, “I would have to pray and reflect on my choices before I acted.”
Somewhat disappointed Maria said, “Do not pray and reflect too long. This opportunity will pass by very quickly.”
Leofweald chuckled, “Do not allow yourself to become blinded by your cause. Yourself, Earl Hrolfr of Westmoreland and Earl Æthelweald of Gloucester are all one county lords. You do not wield much power or influence. You are a mere annoyance to the king.”
Very defensively Maria retorted, “Others will join. You do not want to be on the wrong side of this.”
Trying of the conversation Leofweald turned away from Maria and looked at the small altar, “As I said I will pray for guidance before any decision is made.”
Maria stood and said, “I am sure God will direct you to the righteous cause.”
She then walked out of the pew and left the chapel, leaving Leofweald alone.
Leofweald sat in the pew motionless. He closed his eyes hoping to find solace. He prayed for an answer or a sign. When none came he open his eyes and rose from the pew. He stepped out of the chapel.
To his surprise as he entered the corridor he came face to face with his wife, “Bodil my love what are you doing here?”
Bodil looked at him. Her eyes were full of rage. Her fists were clenched, “My dear husband I was about to ask you the same.”
Trying not to relieve any emotions Leofweald said, “I sought some time for prayer and reflection before the swearing of fidelity to the king later this morning.”
Looking Leofweald straight in the eyes Bodil asked, “Did Countess Maria have the same idea?”
Concerned that his wife might know that he was considering Maria’s offer Leofweald placed his hands on Bodil’s upper arms and said, “Yes she did.”
Still looking in his eyes Bodil asked, “There was no talk of factions and plots.”
Smiling Leofweald replied, “No there was no talks of factions or plots or schemes.”
Not convinced Bodil grabbed his wrist and removed his hands from her arms, “Do not take me for a fool. We have been married far too long for that.”
Leofweald stepped back, “I would never do that.”
Bodil stepped toward Leofweald and placed her hands against his chest and pushed him, “Do not mock me.”
Leofweald stepped further back and began to speak but Bodil interrupted him, “I know you conspire with her or are thinking about it. I implore you not to do so. You risk far more than you realize. You want protection from the English. Do you not have it now? If Ealdmund attacks will Rædwald not come to your aid? He is your leige lord and obligated to protect you. If you join with Maria and fail who will protect you from Rædwald’s wraith? Who will protect your children? Who will protect me? If you don't find yourself on the executioner's block you will be in a dungeon. If you are stripped of your titles what will happen to us. I do not want to find myself at the mercy of new vengeful lord or begging in a German court or worse yet your English cousins.”
Leofweald reached and an grabbed her wrist, “It will not come to that.”
Trying to break his grip Bodil said, “How do you know that?”
Leofweald held strong, “If there is a demand letter sent to Rædwald he will have to give in. He will not be strong enough to fight a revolt. If he does resist he will lose.”
Bodil finally broke free, “You are a fool. Mark my words you will regret joining with her.”
Bodil turned and hurried away from Leofweald.
Leofweald stood stunned.
Am I making a mistake? I feel I will lose either way. No matter what the kingdom will be in a war with England and my lands will bear the brunt of any campaigns. The only question is will the kingdom be attacking or defending.
Leofweald more unsure of himself than ever followed Bodil down the corridor.
*****
Earl Bo of Leicester stood in a back corner of the great hall. He was trying to avoid the festivities as much as he could. It was another feast; this one for those the king appointed today. The events of the day had him perplexed. He had thought that he was ready for anything but not for what transpired. The swearing of oaths of fidelity of the Dukes and Earls to King Rædwald went without any surprises. Each lord approached the king and swore his oath. When it was his turn Bo swore his oath as required questioning inwardly how long he may actually keep it. The appointment, however, had taken him by complete surprise.
Lost in thought Bo did not notice Bishop Hrolfr of Burton approaching him.
With a smile the old bishop-general asked, “Earl Bo how does it feel to now be a commander of the realm.”
With a smile of his own Bo replied, “I am not sure. The feeling is still settling in. I am not sure if I deserve such an honor.”
Hrolfr nodded, “I am sure you did, why else would be appointed?”
Bo pulled at his mustache and then his beard, “Given my family’s past history with the kings of Jorvik I would have never expected an appointment from Rædwald.”
Hrolfr stepped back to lean against a column, “Perhaps Rædwald is extending an olive branch.”
Bo shifted his weight and looked at Hrolfr, “It is a hollow offer. I will never see an actual command.”
It was Hrolfr who now stroke his mustache, “Why do you say that?”
Bo snickered, With the other commanders like yourself, Emrys, Cytelbearn, Siweard, and Mayor Ivor of Carmarthen the likelyhood of me commanding is small. Even Beorhthelm has had experience with command during the Irish wars. When my father’s levies were raised I was not permitted to go with them. I commanded small detachments that went against a few raiders or disgruntled peasants.”
Hrolfr leaned forward, “Beorhthelm only was only a sub commander. He commanded small levies. He was also Rædwald’s weapons trainer. He is now Court Physician so his time to command will not be great.”
Bo looked at Hrolfr and asked, “Then why appoint him?”
Hrolfr looked back Bo and replied, “I doubt he will command on his own. He will only accompany Rædwald if the king decides to campaign himself. That is why he was made court physician.”
Bo snickered, “So the king protects himself. Just like him to put himself before others.”
Hrolfr shook his head, “If I were you I would take his olive branch. The opportunity may never come your again.”
Bo Stepped toward Hrolfr, “I do not like someone,even a king, who think that I can be easily bought with a useless title.”
Hrolfr leaned back against the column, “Who will led your cause. I know Maria of Hereford will compose the demand letter but she is no field commander. Anlaufr?”
Hrolfr stepped toward Bo and looked him straight in the eyes, “Do not put your trust in Anlaufr. He may be Marshal but I have served with him and know better. You have more field experience than him. The only campaigns he lead were started by others. Eilif always chose Arthways, and Þorgil over him to command in the field. When they were not around Eilif lead himself. Anlaufr is great at organizing and training but not much else.”
Before Bo could reply Hrolfr turned and walked away. Bo stood with his arms down and his fist clenched. After Hrolfr disappeared into the crowd Bo turned and left the great hall his mind made up.
- 1
I think this is very good update displaying the sorts of pressures and considerations that impact the Lords of Jorvik.
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Seems like they are headed toward revolt. Which should provide for some good opportunity to re-organize the realm... provide Rædwald puts down the revolt.
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A couple of good chapters really getting into the intents and machinations of the lords of the realm. I particularly liked the device you used in the previous chapter at the enthronement. Well done.
A word of caution. On several occasions in the previous chapter you used the words Council and counsel interchangeably. You give wise counsel if you are on the Council.
A word of caution. On several occasions in the previous chapter you used the words Council and counsel interchangeably. You give wise counsel if you are on the Council.
- 1
It is important to know what is going on from all points of view I feel.
They are heading toward something. Time will tell how far it will go.
A couple of good chapters really getting into the intents and machinations of the lords of the realm. I particularly liked the device you used in the previous chapter at the enthronement. Well done.
A word of caution. On several occasions in the previous chapter you used the words Council and counsel interchangeably. You give wise counsel if you are on the Council.
Thanks. With there being a new king and a new mood in the kingdom I feel it is time to learn where everyone stands.
Council/counsel, I saw a few and I thought I caught all of them. However the bane of modern writers strikes again: Lord Autocorrect.
Working on the next chapter. It is taking longer than I had planned. Again I rewrote most of it and time available to write has been shorter than anticipated. I usually like to have a few chapters in various stages from brainstorming to rough drafts done ahead of time. That way I can post on a fairly regular schedule. At the moment I am not where I want to be with that.
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Chapter 7.1.5 20 December 1000 York
20 December 1000 York
Three consecutive nights of feasting and revelry had taken a toll on Rædwald. First there was the feast to welcome all the visitors, then the feast to celebrate the coronation, and last evening the feast to congratulate all the royal appointees. Now Rædwald’s head pounded and his eyes were sensitive to the sunlight coming through the windows of his and Crístina’s private chambers.
The royal couple had decided to have their morning meal in their chambers this morning. Rædwald looked at the food on the plate before him and felt his stomach turn. He toyed with the food some with his spoon. He took several sips from the cup of hot broth before him.
Queen Crístina, on the other hand, seemed to be having no troubles with her appetite this morning. She ate the food before her with gusto. She ate with so much enthusiasm that everytime she scooped food up with her spoon the spoon hit the plate hard making a loud resounding thud or so it seemed to Rædwald.
She dropped her spoon heavily on the plate and reached for cup of broth. Rædwald who was sitting with his left elbow on the table and his hand supporting his by his forehead growled, “Must you do that?”
Crístina looked over the bowl of broth as she took a sip. She lowered the bowl and when it was few inches from the table she let it drop. The bowl hit the plate with a loud clang. With an innocent tone she responded, “Do what?”
Rædwald removed his hand from his forehead and gestured toward her and exclaimed, “That!”
Her innocent look disappeared and she replied, “Oh, was I making too much noise?”
Rædwald glared at her as his hand returned to his forehead.
Crístina now glared back at him, “I am not the one who sat and drank with his so called loyal Counselors.”
Rædwald rested both his arms on the table and sat back in his seat, “You do not approve of my Council?”
Crístina put down her spoon and also sat back in her chair. She motioned for servants to come and remove the plates and uneaten food. Three servants quickly cleared the plates and utensils from the table. They left the steaming cups of broth.
With her hands clasped together and resting in her lap Crístina replied, “Half of them would slit your throat given the opportunity and you go and hand them the knife.”
Rædwald folded his arms across his chest defiantly and said, “They served my father well.”
Crístina laughed. “Sometimes you are such a fool. Your so called Marshal, Duke Anlaufr plots with Countess Maria of Hereford to increase their power at your expense. Your traitorous Chancellor Duke Leofweald of Northumbria tries to appear that he his loyal all the while he too plots with Maria. Your foolish Steward Duke Cytelbearn of Mann is at odds with his father,and your Spymaster Earl Siweard of Lindsey over the Duke of Mann also being an open supporter of Maria. Your Court Chaplin Bishop Dyre of Halton is too insignificant to even matter in the coming days. Siweard is the only one who is trustworthy and can actually help you.”
Rædwald placed his hands on the arms of the chair and leaned forward, “What would have me do? Not appoint them? If I do not appoint them it will only give them more cause to side against me and could garner support from other lords that do not currently support them.”
Crístina shook her head and in a mocking tone asked, “You think keeping them in power will appease them?”
Rædwald sat back, “i am not a fool. It will not appease them completely. I, however, will be able to manipulate and control them. I can send Leofweald on diplomatic missions to France or East Francia. Maybe Rome or even Constantinople. Anlaufr can be kept busy training the levies here under my close watch. There is the expansion of the Sick House here in York or the construction of a new hospital in Lindsey to keep Cytelbearn occupied. I will keep them apart and away from Countess Maria. It also benefit the kingdom with better relations with our neighbors, better trained levies, and new facilities to aid the sick and poor.”
Crístina again shook her head, “I truly hope you know what you are doing. It is a dangerous game you are playing.”
For the first time Rædwald smiled, “Do not worry my love. If they continue to plot there are plans laid out to address them. If they are truly foolish enough to force my hand they will wish they never did so. Death will be preferable to them.”
*****
Sitting in his father’s chair in the study Rædwald thought about the few times he had been in the room. Eilif brought him into the oroom to show or teach him something about running the kingdom. He read many documents and was tested many times by his father. On some occasions he was present when his father met with his Counselors or some foreign dignitary. At no time had ever sat in the chair.
The room unnerved him. The meetings and decisions made in this room had shaped the Kingdom of Jorvik. The conquest of Mercia and Wales had been discussed within its walls. Plans to tributize Britain and Ireland had been conceived at the very desk he sat behind. Who knows how many other schemes and plots that made Jorvik powerful had been born here.
The room had been constructed by his great grandfather King Knut during one of Knut’s several expansion projects to Jorvik Castle, the palace of the Jorvikian kings. It had served King Knut, King Sigfrið, King Eilif, and now King Rædwald.
Rædwald admired the desk. He slowly ran his hand over the surface. He knew the desk had been constructed from the wood of several longboats that had raided the Mediterranean Basin. The chair he sat in, the chairs, tables, and shelves had also been made from those longboats. King Knut had commissioned the work when the room was constructed.
Rædwald had used the room only a few times since his father’s death. He had met with his counselors, particularly Siweard a few times in the room. Today, however, was the first time he entertained an important foreign dignitary. King Renaud of France sat across the desk from Rædwald.
Rædwald sat the goblet of wine upon the desk and said, “King Renaud, thank you for the generous gift of this French wine.
Renaud lifted his goblet up and toward Rædwald, “Such an important friend of France deserves nothing but the best. As I recall your father had a special liking for the wine from my private wine cellar.”
Smiling and returning Renaud’s toast Rædwald, “After tasting it I can understand why.”
Renaud put his goblet down and turned serious, “Have you considered my proposal?”
Rædwald placed his goblet back on the desk and sat back in the chair, “I have given it much thought. However, my father had warned about entering into alliances.”
Renaud now sat back in his chair and crossed his legs, “Your father was a wise man. In his time alliances were a luxury that commonly got one entangled in wars that one wanted nothing to do with or having any business in.”
Rædwald clasped his hands together and rested them on his belly, “And things have changed now?”
Renaud grew very serious, “The world is now much changed since the days of your father and grandfather. The heathen Muslims have made great gains. Aquitaine and France have been pushed out of Iberia. Aquitaine holds onto only Barcelona and the Kingdom of Galicia barely controls the northwest of the peninsula. The Muslim Sultanate of Umayyad, the Kingdom of Asturias, the Duchy of Valéncia, and the Duchy of Gascogne control the rest of Iberia. The Umayyads have pushed as far north as Bordeaux. With the exception of Agen they control all lands south of the Garonne River.”
Renaud paused for a moment and then continued, “In Africa Aquitaine and Lotharingia have lost almost all of their holdings in Morocco and Algeria. All the while that blind traitor to the faith in Rome does nothing. He allows the heathens to conquer and crush Christian lands. Just like he allows the Fraticelli heretics run wild throughout Lotharingia.”
Renaud uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, “In these troubling times we find no help coming from the Church in Rome. We must ban together against these great threats to our Christian kingdoms. We need alliances to survive.”
A devilish smile came across Rædwald’s face, “And our own popes.”
The room was now full of an awkward silence. After a few moments Renaud smiled and then both kings burst out laughing.
Renaud stopped laughing and asked, “Are you not concerned that Silvester will take offense for you carousing with one such as I?”
Rædwald stopped laughing also but the smile did not leave his face, “Pope Silvester likes his comforts. As my father did I can help him greatly with keeping those comforts.”
The smile returned to Renaud’s face and he shifted himself in the chair to make himself more comfortable, “Then it is fortunate that we are friends.”
Rædwald sat back in his chair and rested his elbows on his legs. His hands played with his beard, “Friends like ourselves need some bond to make our friendship more lasting.”
Renaud leaned forward, “what do you have in mind?”
Rædwald stopped playing with his beard but now rested his chin on his hands, “The same as you; a marriage.”
Renaud smirked, “Is there someone that you are considering?”
Rædwald returned the smirk and still sitting back in the chair as he clasped his hands and rested them in his lap, “My sister Bodil.”
Renaud leaned forward some more until he was resting on the edge of the chair, “Why her? Why not your brother Sigfrið?”
A smug look came over Rædwald, “Your daughters Denise and Alice are married, as is your son and likely heir Nicolas. Your youngest daughter Isabel is 12. Sigfrið is almost 16 and is too old for her. Your brother Benoît has a son Sigismond who is close in age to Bodil. You have been looking for a wife for him for sometime.”
Renaud sat back in his chair, “I must congratulate Siweard. He has not lost his touch.”
Rædwald smiled again, “I will pass on your praise to him.”
Now it was Renaud’s turn to smile, “Shall we let our chancellors finish the details.”
Rædwald nodded and said, “We shall make the announcement before your departure.”
Renaud lifted his goblet and made a toast, “To the happy bride and groom,”
Rædwald raised his goblet, “To Sigismond and Bodil.”
Three consecutive nights of feasting and revelry had taken a toll on Rædwald. First there was the feast to welcome all the visitors, then the feast to celebrate the coronation, and last evening the feast to congratulate all the royal appointees. Now Rædwald’s head pounded and his eyes were sensitive to the sunlight coming through the windows of his and Crístina’s private chambers.
The royal couple had decided to have their morning meal in their chambers this morning. Rædwald looked at the food on the plate before him and felt his stomach turn. He toyed with the food some with his spoon. He took several sips from the cup of hot broth before him.
Queen Crístina, on the other hand, seemed to be having no troubles with her appetite this morning. She ate the food before her with gusto. She ate with so much enthusiasm that everytime she scooped food up with her spoon the spoon hit the plate hard making a loud resounding thud or so it seemed to Rædwald.
She dropped her spoon heavily on the plate and reached for cup of broth. Rædwald who was sitting with his left elbow on the table and his hand supporting his by his forehead growled, “Must you do that?”
Crístina looked over the bowl of broth as she took a sip. She lowered the bowl and when it was few inches from the table she let it drop. The bowl hit the plate with a loud clang. With an innocent tone she responded, “Do what?”
Rædwald removed his hand from his forehead and gestured toward her and exclaimed, “That!”
Her innocent look disappeared and she replied, “Oh, was I making too much noise?”
Rædwald glared at her as his hand returned to his forehead.
Crístina now glared back at him, “I am not the one who sat and drank with his so called loyal Counselors.”
Rædwald rested both his arms on the table and sat back in his seat, “You do not approve of my Council?”
Crístina put down her spoon and also sat back in her chair. She motioned for servants to come and remove the plates and uneaten food. Three servants quickly cleared the plates and utensils from the table. They left the steaming cups of broth.
With her hands clasped together and resting in her lap Crístina replied, “Half of them would slit your throat given the opportunity and you go and hand them the knife.”
Rædwald folded his arms across his chest defiantly and said, “They served my father well.”
Crístina laughed. “Sometimes you are such a fool. Your so called Marshal, Duke Anlaufr plots with Countess Maria of Hereford to increase their power at your expense. Your traitorous Chancellor Duke Leofweald of Northumbria tries to appear that he his loyal all the while he too plots with Maria. Your foolish Steward Duke Cytelbearn of Mann is at odds with his father,and your Spymaster Earl Siweard of Lindsey over the Duke of Mann also being an open supporter of Maria. Your Court Chaplin Bishop Dyre of Halton is too insignificant to even matter in the coming days. Siweard is the only one who is trustworthy and can actually help you.”
Rædwald placed his hands on the arms of the chair and leaned forward, “What would have me do? Not appoint them? If I do not appoint them it will only give them more cause to side against me and could garner support from other lords that do not currently support them.”
Crístina shook her head and in a mocking tone asked, “You think keeping them in power will appease them?”
Rædwald sat back, “i am not a fool. It will not appease them completely. I, however, will be able to manipulate and control them. I can send Leofweald on diplomatic missions to France or East Francia. Maybe Rome or even Constantinople. Anlaufr can be kept busy training the levies here under my close watch. There is the expansion of the Sick House here in York or the construction of a new hospital in Lindsey to keep Cytelbearn occupied. I will keep them apart and away from Countess Maria. It also benefit the kingdom with better relations with our neighbors, better trained levies, and new facilities to aid the sick and poor.”
Crístina again shook her head, “I truly hope you know what you are doing. It is a dangerous game you are playing.”
For the first time Rædwald smiled, “Do not worry my love. If they continue to plot there are plans laid out to address them. If they are truly foolish enough to force my hand they will wish they never did so. Death will be preferable to them.”
*****
Sitting in his father’s chair in the study Rædwald thought about the few times he had been in the room. Eilif brought him into the oroom to show or teach him something about running the kingdom. He read many documents and was tested many times by his father. On some occasions he was present when his father met with his Counselors or some foreign dignitary. At no time had ever sat in the chair.
The room unnerved him. The meetings and decisions made in this room had shaped the Kingdom of Jorvik. The conquest of Mercia and Wales had been discussed within its walls. Plans to tributize Britain and Ireland had been conceived at the very desk he sat behind. Who knows how many other schemes and plots that made Jorvik powerful had been born here.
The room had been constructed by his great grandfather King Knut during one of Knut’s several expansion projects to Jorvik Castle, the palace of the Jorvikian kings. It had served King Knut, King Sigfrið, King Eilif, and now King Rædwald.
Rædwald admired the desk. He slowly ran his hand over the surface. He knew the desk had been constructed from the wood of several longboats that had raided the Mediterranean Basin. The chair he sat in, the chairs, tables, and shelves had also been made from those longboats. King Knut had commissioned the work when the room was constructed.
Rædwald had used the room only a few times since his father’s death. He had met with his counselors, particularly Siweard a few times in the room. Today, however, was the first time he entertained an important foreign dignitary. King Renaud of France sat across the desk from Rædwald.
Rædwald sat the goblet of wine upon the desk and said, “King Renaud, thank you for the generous gift of this French wine.
Renaud lifted his goblet up and toward Rædwald, “Such an important friend of France deserves nothing but the best. As I recall your father had a special liking for the wine from my private wine cellar.”
Smiling and returning Renaud’s toast Rædwald, “After tasting it I can understand why.”
Renaud put his goblet down and turned serious, “Have you considered my proposal?”
Rædwald placed his goblet back on the desk and sat back in the chair, “I have given it much thought. However, my father had warned about entering into alliances.”
Renaud now sat back in his chair and crossed his legs, “Your father was a wise man. In his time alliances were a luxury that commonly got one entangled in wars that one wanted nothing to do with or having any business in.”
Rædwald clasped his hands together and rested them on his belly, “And things have changed now?”
Renaud grew very serious, “The world is now much changed since the days of your father and grandfather. The heathen Muslims have made great gains. Aquitaine and France have been pushed out of Iberia. Aquitaine holds onto only Barcelona and the Kingdom of Galicia barely controls the northwest of the peninsula. The Muslim Sultanate of Umayyad, the Kingdom of Asturias, the Duchy of Valéncia, and the Duchy of Gascogne control the rest of Iberia. The Umayyads have pushed as far north as Bordeaux. With the exception of Agen they control all lands south of the Garonne River.”
Renaud paused for a moment and then continued, “In Africa Aquitaine and Lotharingia have lost almost all of their holdings in Morocco and Algeria. All the while that blind traitor to the faith in Rome does nothing. He allows the heathens to conquer and crush Christian lands. Just like he allows the Fraticelli heretics run wild throughout Lotharingia.”
Renaud uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, “In these troubling times we find no help coming from the Church in Rome. We must ban together against these great threats to our Christian kingdoms. We need alliances to survive.”
A devilish smile came across Rædwald’s face, “And our own popes.”
The room was now full of an awkward silence. After a few moments Renaud smiled and then both kings burst out laughing.
Renaud stopped laughing and asked, “Are you not concerned that Silvester will take offense for you carousing with one such as I?”
Rædwald stopped laughing also but the smile did not leave his face, “Pope Silvester likes his comforts. As my father did I can help him greatly with keeping those comforts.”
The smile returned to Renaud’s face and he shifted himself in the chair to make himself more comfortable, “Then it is fortunate that we are friends.”
Rædwald sat back in his chair and rested his elbows on his legs. His hands played with his beard, “Friends like ourselves need some bond to make our friendship more lasting.”
Renaud leaned forward, “what do you have in mind?”
Rædwald stopped playing with his beard but now rested his chin on his hands, “The same as you; a marriage.”
Renaud smirked, “Is there someone that you are considering?”
Rædwald returned the smirk and still sitting back in the chair as he clasped his hands and rested them in his lap, “My sister Bodil.”
Renaud leaned forward some more until he was resting on the edge of the chair, “Why her? Why not your brother Sigfrið?”
A smug look came over Rædwald, “Your daughters Denise and Alice are married, as is your son and likely heir Nicolas. Your youngest daughter Isabel is 12. Sigfrið is almost 16 and is too old for her. Your brother Benoît has a son Sigismond who is close in age to Bodil. You have been looking for a wife for him for sometime.”
Renaud sat back in his chair, “I must congratulate Siweard. He has not lost his touch.”
Rædwald smiled again, “I will pass on your praise to him.”
Now it was Renaud’s turn to smile, “Shall we let our chancellors finish the details.”
Rædwald nodded and said, “We shall make the announcement before your departure.”
Renaud lifted his goblet and made a toast, “To the happy bride and groom,”
Rædwald raised his goblet, “To Sigismond and Bodil.”
- 1
Man, Iberia has devolved into quite a mess. That happened in my one 769 game, but I didn't play in Western Europe (twas in the Baltics) and I did help with the destabilization.
But I wonder, how much does Rædwald truly care? Iberia and southern France are quite a ways away. And he's got his own problems at home. (Also, do I suspect the Queen's appetite a suggestion there is an heir on the way?)
But I wonder, how much does Rædwald truly care? Iberia and southern France are quite a ways away. And he's got his own problems at home. (Also, do I suspect the Queen's appetite a suggestion there is an heir on the way?)
- 1
“I am not the one who sat and drank with his so called loyal Counselors.”
I have to say that I loved this line. It just so perfectly encaspsulated everything about that scene that needed to be said.
I have to say that I loved this line. It just so perfectly encaspsulated everything about that scene that needed to be said.
- 1
Chapter 7.2.1 January 1001 York
Chapter 7.2
8 January 1001 York
Cecilia shivered on the cold stone floor of her cell deep in the dungeons of the palace. She tried to pull her tattered clothings tighter around her. She reached for the threadbare blanket she had and threw it over her shoulders. She shivered again. She had given up trying to get comfortable with the hay that was occasionally thrown into her cell. It now was moldy and either damp or frozen.
She had long lost track of how long she had been imprisoned. As a matter of fact she had for all intentions lost track of whether it was day or night. All she knew that she was feed twice a day. Since the meal was usually some moldy or stale bread and either greul or some type of stew there was no way to tell if it was breakfast, lunch, or dinner. The only person she saw was her jailer and never spoke. She thought she remembered hearing someone remark that he was mute.
The only change was sometime ago a new prisoner had been brought into the dungeons. She saw them drag a man in a nobleman’s clothing down the corridor passed her cell. At least the torn and dirty clothing looked like a noble’s . She thought she one or more of the guards mockingly call him Count Cynwrig of Gwynedd. From the clanging of the cell doors she was sure they placed him in a cell at the end of the corridor. Occasionally he would yell out saying that he was a king and they had no right to hold him. Other times he would threaten King Eilif and his family and curse them.
The banging of the heavy doors startled her. With great effort she stood. Her knees and back pained her greatly. She made her way to the door and looked out the small slot that served as as a window. She caught the warm draft that came when the door to the guards’ chamber was opened. The jailer approached the cell.
That is odd. he does not bring any food.
She noticed that he was fiddling with the keys. He stopped at her door. She heard the key enter the lock. Out of fear she stepped back away from the door.
The jailer struggled with the lock. It protested from lack of use but finally gave way and clicked open. Cecilia swallowed the lump that was in the back of her throat.
The door swung open and two guards with drawn swords stepped into the cell. Cecilia did not know if she shivered from fear or from the cold. The sword carrying guards stepped into the cell and each moved to one side of the door.
Through the door a tall man stepped. He wore a two colored tunic over chain armor. The left side was light green and the right side light blue. In the center there were three black bull’s heads, arranged in a triangle with two on top. It was a heraldry she did not recognize. His sword remained in its sheath. His cold blue eyes stared at her from under his reddish brown hair.
The man spoke, “Cecilia, who was once Court Physician to King Eilif?”
In a low weak voice Cecilia answered, “Yes I am she.”
The man said, “I am Eskild.”
Becoming a little bolder Cecilia said, “that is good but why are you here? Am I to taken to the gallows finally?”
Smiling Eskild responded, “You are free. I am here to escort you to your new home.”
Surprised Cecilia asked, “Free?”
Still smiling Eskild answered, “Yes, King Rædwald ordered your release.”
Rædwald is king. The bastard is on the throne.
Masking her disgust Cecilia asked, “What happened to King Eilif?”
Showing no emotion Eskild answered, “He died last year from a wound he received in Cynwrig of Gwynedd’s revolt.”
Cecilia hung her head down.
I have failed you my queen. The bastard is on the throne. I could not stop it.
Directing Cecilia toward the door Eskild said, “Come let us go from this place.”
Cecilia nodded and followed Eskild out into the corridor. She did not let the pain of walking bother her. She was free at last. They walked into the guards chambers. She tried to absorb all the warmth she could coming from the fire pit. In the guard chambers there were two more men dressed as Eskild.
Eskild motioned to a door and said, “This way.”
He opened the door and stepped through. Cecilia followed as did Eskild’s companions. All the dungeon guards remained in their warm chambers. They walked down a long cold and dimly lit corridor. They reached a staircase and began to climb. At the first landing Cecilia asked them to halt. The pain was too great and she needed to catch her breath. The men obliged her.
After a few minutes she was ready to go on. They finished climbing the stairs and then walked down another corridor until it deadended at another corridor. Eskild stopped.
Eskild stepped to his left. Cecilia was going to follow but stopped when she realized her path was blocked by a hooded figure. Cecilia looked questioningly at the figure and then to Eskild.
Suddenly she recalled the heraldry the men wore.
It is the House of af Chester. The house of…
The figure removed the hood.
“Ingrid of Chester,” Cecilia said in a voice full of fear.
With a devilish grin Ingrid responded, “It is good to see you have not forgotten me.”
Almost in tears Cecilia said, “I was told that the king freed me.”
Losing the grin Ingrid said, “He did.” She paused, “into my custody.”
Cecilia’s eyes widen in fear.
Glaring at Cecilia with hate in her eyes Ingrid said, “Your plan has failed utterly Cecilia. Rædwald is now king. Later today Price Hlothere will be betrothed to Princess Tiburge of Burgundy, daughter of the late King Simon II of Burgundy. You remember Prince Hlothere. The prince who you tried to poison along with my son Hjalmar.”
Cecilia was horrified now. She began to look for a way to escape the corridor. She knew that even if she could past Ingrid and Eskild she would not get far in her current condition.
A smile returned to her face, but the eyes still showed hate Ingrid continued, “You have nothing to fear. I am satisfied that you have served your punishment.”
Full of fear Cecilia said, “I do not believe you.”
Bringing her left arm to her chest and outstretching her right arm and hand Ingrid said, “I am speaking the truth. You may go.” Ingrid stepped aside.
Cecilia hesitated and then began to move.
As Cecilia passed Ingrid said, “However, there is one question you must answer. And you must answer it truthfully.”
Cecilia suddenly found her was blocked by Eskild.
Ingrid walked closer to Cecilia. Cecilia turned to meet her face to face.
Staring into Cecilia’s eyes Ingrid asked, “ Was Queen Elisabeth involved? Were you following her orders?”
Definitely Cecilia asked, “Why should I answer you. You will throw me back into the dungeons either way.”
Remorsefully Ingrid responded, “No I would never do that if I thought you if you answered truthfully. King Rædwald is considering inviting Elisabeth to leave the convent in Dyfed and come back here to York. But he wishes to be sure he is not inviting someone who plotted the death of his brothers and even possibly himself.”
Cecilia swallowed and replied, “No I alone was responsible for the plot.”
Ingrid smiled, “Thank you.”
Ingrid stepped aside and motioned Cecilia could pass. Cecilia looked at Ingrid and Eskild. They made no move to block her path. She looked down the corridor. She began to take a step. She did not see Ingrid nod.
Cecilia never finished the step. One of the men behind her grabbed her by the waste. He then trapped her legs between his so she could not move. She began to protest. She then felt a cord or rope slip around her neck. The chord tightened and tightened. It was becoming harder to breath. As darkness over took her she heard Ingrid say, “Liar.”
*****
Later that evening Ingrid stood in the great hall by the hearth. The fire was burning low as no one was using the hall. It did warm the area immediately surrounding it. Ingrid warmed her hands over the fire and loosened her furs some.
Footsteps approached her from behind. Ingrid did not turn. The figure came up alongside her and began to warm his hands over the fire.
King Rædwald asked, “Did see admit to anything?”
Ingrid did not take her eyes off the fire, “No she continued to lie until the end.”
Rædwald looked into the fire watching the flames dancing about, “She had an opportunity to obtain forgiveness and absolution for her sins and she chose not to. Her soul will endure unending torture in Hell.”
Ingrid turned and looked at the king, “Knowing that she directed Cecilia to kill your brothers you will still intend to bring Elisabeth here from Dyfed.”
Rædwald looked at Ingrid, “Yes.”
In an almost motherly tone Ingrid said, “You are aware that she will scheme to put her son Sigrið on the throne.”
Rædwald smiled, “I expect her to do so. I am sure she is doing so as we speak.”
Raising her brow questioningly Ingrid said, “And you will still bring her here.”
Still smiling Rædwald replied, “If nothing else my father’s widow is predictable. She will scheme but she will be here where I can watch her. I do not want her half the kingdom away if any trouble erupts.”
In a concerned voice Ingrid asked, “You fear a revolt?”
The smile disappeared, “As king I must always fear it but I also must be prepared. In Dyfed during such a time Elisabeth could find all types of mischief to partake in.”
Then Rædwald chuckled, “I also want to see her face when I turn Sigrið against her.”
Both turned back to warming their hands over the fire and stood in silence.
XXXXX
Just realized I did not post responses to the previous chapter's comments. Being sick the last few days has knocked me off kilter in many ways. I will catch up I promise.
8 January 1001 York
Cecilia shivered on the cold stone floor of her cell deep in the dungeons of the palace. She tried to pull her tattered clothings tighter around her. She reached for the threadbare blanket she had and threw it over her shoulders. She shivered again. She had given up trying to get comfortable with the hay that was occasionally thrown into her cell. It now was moldy and either damp or frozen.
She had long lost track of how long she had been imprisoned. As a matter of fact she had for all intentions lost track of whether it was day or night. All she knew that she was feed twice a day. Since the meal was usually some moldy or stale bread and either greul or some type of stew there was no way to tell if it was breakfast, lunch, or dinner. The only person she saw was her jailer and never spoke. She thought she remembered hearing someone remark that he was mute.
The only change was sometime ago a new prisoner had been brought into the dungeons. She saw them drag a man in a nobleman’s clothing down the corridor passed her cell. At least the torn and dirty clothing looked like a noble’s . She thought she one or more of the guards mockingly call him Count Cynwrig of Gwynedd. From the clanging of the cell doors she was sure they placed him in a cell at the end of the corridor. Occasionally he would yell out saying that he was a king and they had no right to hold him. Other times he would threaten King Eilif and his family and curse them.
The banging of the heavy doors startled her. With great effort she stood. Her knees and back pained her greatly. She made her way to the door and looked out the small slot that served as as a window. She caught the warm draft that came when the door to the guards’ chamber was opened. The jailer approached the cell.
That is odd. he does not bring any food.
She noticed that he was fiddling with the keys. He stopped at her door. She heard the key enter the lock. Out of fear she stepped back away from the door.
The jailer struggled with the lock. It protested from lack of use but finally gave way and clicked open. Cecilia swallowed the lump that was in the back of her throat.
The door swung open and two guards with drawn swords stepped into the cell. Cecilia did not know if she shivered from fear or from the cold. The sword carrying guards stepped into the cell and each moved to one side of the door.
Through the door a tall man stepped. He wore a two colored tunic over chain armor. The left side was light green and the right side light blue. In the center there were three black bull’s heads, arranged in a triangle with two on top. It was a heraldry she did not recognize. His sword remained in its sheath. His cold blue eyes stared at her from under his reddish brown hair.
The man spoke, “Cecilia, who was once Court Physician to King Eilif?”
In a low weak voice Cecilia answered, “Yes I am she.”
The man said, “I am Eskild.”
Becoming a little bolder Cecilia said, “that is good but why are you here? Am I to taken to the gallows finally?”
Smiling Eskild responded, “You are free. I am here to escort you to your new home.”
Surprised Cecilia asked, “Free?”
Still smiling Eskild answered, “Yes, King Rædwald ordered your release.”
Rædwald is king. The bastard is on the throne.
Masking her disgust Cecilia asked, “What happened to King Eilif?”
Showing no emotion Eskild answered, “He died last year from a wound he received in Cynwrig of Gwynedd’s revolt.”
Cecilia hung her head down.
I have failed you my queen. The bastard is on the throne. I could not stop it.
Directing Cecilia toward the door Eskild said, “Come let us go from this place.”
Cecilia nodded and followed Eskild out into the corridor. She did not let the pain of walking bother her. She was free at last. They walked into the guards chambers. She tried to absorb all the warmth she could coming from the fire pit. In the guard chambers there were two more men dressed as Eskild.
Eskild motioned to a door and said, “This way.”
He opened the door and stepped through. Cecilia followed as did Eskild’s companions. All the dungeon guards remained in their warm chambers. They walked down a long cold and dimly lit corridor. They reached a staircase and began to climb. At the first landing Cecilia asked them to halt. The pain was too great and she needed to catch her breath. The men obliged her.
After a few minutes she was ready to go on. They finished climbing the stairs and then walked down another corridor until it deadended at another corridor. Eskild stopped.
Eskild stepped to his left. Cecilia was going to follow but stopped when she realized her path was blocked by a hooded figure. Cecilia looked questioningly at the figure and then to Eskild.
Suddenly she recalled the heraldry the men wore.
It is the House of af Chester. The house of…
The figure removed the hood.
“Ingrid of Chester,” Cecilia said in a voice full of fear.
With a devilish grin Ingrid responded, “It is good to see you have not forgotten me.”
Almost in tears Cecilia said, “I was told that the king freed me.”
Losing the grin Ingrid said, “He did.” She paused, “into my custody.”
Cecilia’s eyes widen in fear.
Glaring at Cecilia with hate in her eyes Ingrid said, “Your plan has failed utterly Cecilia. Rædwald is now king. Later today Price Hlothere will be betrothed to Princess Tiburge of Burgundy, daughter of the late King Simon II of Burgundy. You remember Prince Hlothere. The prince who you tried to poison along with my son Hjalmar.”
Cecilia was horrified now. She began to look for a way to escape the corridor. She knew that even if she could past Ingrid and Eskild she would not get far in her current condition.
A smile returned to her face, but the eyes still showed hate Ingrid continued, “You have nothing to fear. I am satisfied that you have served your punishment.”
Full of fear Cecilia said, “I do not believe you.”
Bringing her left arm to her chest and outstretching her right arm and hand Ingrid said, “I am speaking the truth. You may go.” Ingrid stepped aside.
Cecilia hesitated and then began to move.
As Cecilia passed Ingrid said, “However, there is one question you must answer. And you must answer it truthfully.”
Cecilia suddenly found her was blocked by Eskild.
Ingrid walked closer to Cecilia. Cecilia turned to meet her face to face.
Staring into Cecilia’s eyes Ingrid asked, “ Was Queen Elisabeth involved? Were you following her orders?”
Definitely Cecilia asked, “Why should I answer you. You will throw me back into the dungeons either way.”
Remorsefully Ingrid responded, “No I would never do that if I thought you if you answered truthfully. King Rædwald is considering inviting Elisabeth to leave the convent in Dyfed and come back here to York. But he wishes to be sure he is not inviting someone who plotted the death of his brothers and even possibly himself.”
Cecilia swallowed and replied, “No I alone was responsible for the plot.”
Ingrid smiled, “Thank you.”
Ingrid stepped aside and motioned Cecilia could pass. Cecilia looked at Ingrid and Eskild. They made no move to block her path. She looked down the corridor. She began to take a step. She did not see Ingrid nod.
Cecilia never finished the step. One of the men behind her grabbed her by the waste. He then trapped her legs between his so she could not move. She began to protest. She then felt a cord or rope slip around her neck. The chord tightened and tightened. It was becoming harder to breath. As darkness over took her she heard Ingrid say, “Liar.”
*****
Later that evening Ingrid stood in the great hall by the hearth. The fire was burning low as no one was using the hall. It did warm the area immediately surrounding it. Ingrid warmed her hands over the fire and loosened her furs some.
Footsteps approached her from behind. Ingrid did not turn. The figure came up alongside her and began to warm his hands over the fire.
King Rædwald asked, “Did see admit to anything?”
Ingrid did not take her eyes off the fire, “No she continued to lie until the end.”
Rædwald looked into the fire watching the flames dancing about, “She had an opportunity to obtain forgiveness and absolution for her sins and she chose not to. Her soul will endure unending torture in Hell.”
Ingrid turned and looked at the king, “Knowing that she directed Cecilia to kill your brothers you will still intend to bring Elisabeth here from Dyfed.”
Rædwald looked at Ingrid, “Yes.”
In an almost motherly tone Ingrid said, “You are aware that she will scheme to put her son Sigrið on the throne.”
Rædwald smiled, “I expect her to do so. I am sure she is doing so as we speak.”
Raising her brow questioningly Ingrid said, “And you will still bring her here.”
Still smiling Rædwald replied, “If nothing else my father’s widow is predictable. She will scheme but she will be here where I can watch her. I do not want her half the kingdom away if any trouble erupts.”
In a concerned voice Ingrid asked, “You fear a revolt?”
The smile disappeared, “As king I must always fear it but I also must be prepared. In Dyfed during such a time Elisabeth could find all types of mischief to partake in.”
Then Rædwald chuckled, “I also want to see her face when I turn Sigrið against her.”
Both turned back to warming their hands over the fire and stood in silence.
XXXXX
Just realized I did not post responses to the previous chapter's comments. Being sick the last few days has knocked me off kilter in many ways. I will catch up I promise.
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Well, keep your enemies closer as the saying goes.
Hope you are recovered/are recovering from whatever lurgy has gotten you.
Hope you are recovered/are recovering from whatever lurgy has gotten you.
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There's some sense to Raewald here... since she's not on the council her plot power will be relatively weak. And the threats others posed by joining any plot of hers would not change regardless of where the former queen was.
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Yes Iberia is a mess. The Kingdom of Asturias, the Duchy of Valéncia, and the Duchy of Gascogne were either Catholic or controlled by a Catholic. They were all conquered or overthrown by a Muslim ruler. Rædwald is only using Iberia as a way to get what he wants out of Renaud.
No heir coming yet. Just the Queen torturing her hungover husband she is mad at.
You don't want to annoy or disappoint the queen.
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