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It's funny with arrests - I find now that it's better that lords evade capture. You park your stack on their county, let them fly their flag in rebellion then take their lands for rebelling after you win. Whereas sometimes when I simply imprison characters, I can't revoke territory, depending on laws. And really, there's no way for actions against siblings to not have some nasty consequences.
 
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It's funny with arrests - I find now that it's better that lords evade capture. You park your stack on their county, let them fly their flag in rebellion then take their lands for rebelling after you win. Whereas sometimes when I simply imprison characters, I can't revoke territory, depending on laws. And really, there's no way for actions against siblings to not have some nasty consequences.

I agree with you about the arrests. I was hoping he would rebel but he did not. So now it is going to be a tad bit harder to get those titles back.

*****

I should be posting the next chapter soon. I am much happier about it than I was several days ago. I am going to give it anotuher read through.

In the chapter some things are going to get set in motion.
 
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Chapter 7.13.1 - 22 April 1017 Anglesey
Chapter 7.13

22 April 1017 Anglesey

Hlothere was playing with the last bit of food on his plate. His brother Rædwald, on the other hand was picking the bones of the chicken clean. Rædwald finished chewing and swallowing the piece of chicken in his mouth and washed it down with some ale.

Looking at Hlothere he said, “What troubles you brother.”

Hlothere still playing with the food replied, “Nothing.”

Rædwald pushed the plate away and said, “Hlothere, I am your brother and when you play with your food you are worried.”

Frustrated Hlothere pushed his plate from in front of him. He sighed, “What are your plans for Hjalmar?”

Confused Rædwald looked at his brother, “What do mean?”

Hlothere sat back in his chair, “Now you have him locked in the dungeons what do intend to do with him?”

Rædwald smiled, “Nothing.”

Hlothere was not sure if he believed Rædwald and said, “You are not going to harm him?”

Surprised at the accusation Rædwald replied, “He is our brother.”

Hlothere still was unsure, “You arrested him and threw him into the dungeons despite being our brother.”

Rædwald was becoming annoyed, “Yes but he was causing discord among the nobles. After numerous warnings he continued his ways. Even you were growing tired of dealing the repercussions of his actions. This will teach him a lesson.”

Hlothere looked at his brother, “But arrest him!? There are other ways to give a lesson.”

No annoyed Rædwald growled, “What was I supposed to do? Assassinate him?”

Hlothere’s eyes widened and he replied, “No, of course not.”

Rædwald glared at his brother and said, “Good then we are in agreement.”

Hlothere looked down at the table, “Will you strip him of his titles?”

Rædwald smirked, “That will depend on him.”

Hlothere pointed at his brother and said, “I will hold you personally responsible for him.”

Rædwald leaned back in his chair and smiled, “Of course you would. I expect nothing less.”

Hlothere appeared to relax some.

Rædwald poured himself some ale and took a couple of sips and asked, “Is all ready for tomorrow?”

Hlothere now poured himself some ale and replied, “Yes, Ealdmund and Emrys arrived yesterday. Strula is still locked away in his manor.”

Rædwald smiled, “And Beorhthelm arrived with me. That gives us all but one member of Council.”

Hlothere took another drink from his mug and asked, “Why are you holding the meeting here?”

Rædwald took a drink of ale also and replied, “Your lands are free from sickness. While it is in decline consumption can still be found in places around York. I did not think that all the Council members would be willing to travel under such conditions.”

Hlothere nodded, “Makes sense.”

Rædwald toasted Hlothere and said, “Thank you.”

Hlothere returned the toast.

Rædwald stood and said, “I must retire now. Tomorrow will be a long day.”

Hlothere stood and bowed. Rædwald nodded and left the room.

*****

Hlothere entered his strategy room. Duke Ealdmund of Powys stood with Duke Emrys of Deheubarth. The spymaster and marshal turned to greet the steward.

Ealdmund leaned his back against the table and asked, “Have you seen the king? Is he truly healed?”

Hlothere walked over to the table and lifted the pitcher of wine and a cup which he filled. He turned to face Ealdmund and Emrys. “We had dinner together last evening after he arrived. From what I could see he does appear to be healed.” Hlothere paused and then said, He does seem changed.”

Emrys reaching for some wine asked, “Changed how?”

Hlothere drank some wine and replied, “I do not know how to describe it.”

Ealdmund now joined the others in drinking the wine, “There were rumors of him being a lunatic after the botched treatment.”

Emrys nodded and said, “His execution of Aharon seemed to prove that.” The marshal shook his head and continued, “Sawed in half. I have never heard of anything like that before.”

Hlothere cringed hearing his brother being spoken about in such a manner. Finishing his cup, he poured more and responded, “There was no sign of lunacy. There was an odd almost mystic feel about him.”

Emrys raised his eyebrows, “Mystic?”

Hlothere shrugged his shoulders and chuckled, “I have no other way of describing it.”

Ealdmund huffed and drained his cup, “Is this miracle worker with him?”

Hlothere nodded, “Yes but I only met him for a moment. He excused himself and went to his chambers after arriving.”

Almost as if magic Beorhthelm appeared in the doorway starling the three men.

Beorhthelm smiled and walked into the room. He said, “The king will be here shortly.”

All three nodded and Beorhthelm said, “It is good to finally meet you my noble dukes and fellow counselors.”

Hlothere returned the smile and pointed toward the wine pitcher, “It is good to finally meet the savior of our king.”

Beorhthelm took a cup and Hlothere poured some wine, “I thank you Prince Hlothere.”

Hlothere nodded and smiled at the Court Chaplin and Court Physician.

Beorhthelm took a small sip of wine, “The king is disappointed that Mayor Strula is unable to join us.”

Emrys took a sip of wine himself and replied, “Consumption still ravages Chester and Macclesfield. The mayor feels safer in his manor.”

Beorhthelm looked over the edge of his cup and replied, “Such a shame.”

A voice coming from the doorway boomed over the room, “It is a shame that the full Council is not gathered.”

All eyes fell on the doorway. In unison the four men took a knee and said, “Your Highness.”

Rædwald entered the room and motioned that the Counselors could rise. They all stood up.

Rædwald looked around the room and smiled. Hlothere gave his brother a cup of wine which Rædwald took a drink from and then said, “It is good to see everyone after the last three years of horrors that befell our lands.”

A chorus of “Hear, hear” rose from the Counselors.

Rædwald continued, “I praise God that each of you survived and that your families did also.” Turning to Emrys he bowed his head and said, “Duke Emrys I mourn the loss of your sister, Heulwen, to the camp fever.”

Emrys bowed his head and said, “Thank you milord.”

Rædwald looked at Hlothere and sadly said, “And I mourn the loss of a brother, Prince Sigfrið, to the fever.”

Hlothere nodded and raised his cup as a toast. Rædwald returned the toast.

Rædwald turned to the table and said, “Beorhthelm if you please.”

Beorhthelm bowed his head and said a quick blessing for the meeting and asked God to guide their decisions.

Rædwald nodded to the Court Chaplin and said, “We are here to discuss many issues but first and foremost England and their Galician allies.”

The king looked at his spymaster. Ealdmund never cared for the attention that came at times like these. To him it was the downside of being spymaster. The king wanted to know all that there was to know but with the epidemics, in some places information was hard to come by.

Ealdmund cleared his throat and said, “I shall begin with the wars that have been a distraction to King Ælfgar that his alliance with King Diogo has brought him into.”

He looked to Rædwald and the king nodded his approval.

Ealdmund continued, “The so called Galician Holy War for Aragon is now approaching its thirteenth year. Since Duke Alvar of Gascogne called Sultan Abbas of Umayyad Sultanate into the conflict, the war has gone bad for the Galicians. When the English arrived, they had some success initially but that too has faded away. The Galicians have no troops remaining in Aragon. Only the English garrison in the besieged city of Teruel remain. They will not last much longer and the city may have already fallen.”

Ealdmund took a quick drink of wine and Rædwald asked, “What of Prince Oshere and his adventure?”

Ealdmund pointed to the map of Galicia that was on the table, “Oshere’s Host took Oviedo in Asturias de Oviedo not long after they landed. They are now besieging León. It is not going well for Oshere presently. He lost nearly half of his force in a foolish attack on Clydesdale at Renfrew several months ago.”

Emrys looked up from the map and questioned, “Renfrew, what the hell was he doing there?”

Ealdmund chuckled, “Apparently he was trying to aid King Ewan of Scotland, but when Ewan surrendered his troops were abandoned and friendless.”

Hlothere looking at the map and asked, “Why did King Ewan agree to a White Peace? I thought he was winning.”

Ealdmund looked at Hlothere and said, “He was until the Galicians arrived. After their arrival he lost all the occupied land in Clydesdale. With the Scottish Claim War for Clydesdale approaching the fifth year and now with all gains lost the Scottish nobles were becoming unwilling to continue much longer. They forced Ewan into signing the White Peace.”

Hlothere nodded. Ealdmund looked at Rædwald and asked, “Sire, if I may return to Galicia.”

Rædwald nodded and responded, “Do so.”

Ealdmund nodded, “King Diogo has many enemies at home. Two factions are growing more and more powerful every day. Both the Increase Council Power and the Nuno for King factions are on the verge of open revolt.”

Having never heard of Nuno Rædwald asked, “Who is Nuno?”

Ealdmund replied, “Nuno Ranimires, the heir to the Duchy of Galicia.”

Rædwald smiled and said, “It is good to hear that things are not well for the King Galicia at home. Perhaps his troops will not be here for much longer.”

Emrys looked at the map and said, “We can only hope.”

Beorhthelm spoke for the first time, “Hope and prayer can do much.”

Emrys turned to the Chaplin and said, “Good steel and many men can go a long way.”

Rædwald raised a hand to silence everyone, “That is a debate for another time.”

Both Beorhthelm and Emrys bowed.

Rædwald turned to Ealdmund, “What of the other wars King Ælfgar is entangled in?”

Ealdmund nodded and looked down at the map and pointed, “When the Galicians under Prince Monio landed in Wiltshire they crushed the Gloucesterian troops besieging Wilton. For all it is worth the Gloucesterian Claim War for Wiltshire is finished. All that remains is for Countess Mildrith and her regent, Onlaf to surrender.”

Ealdmund paused waiting for a response but no one spoke. Therefore, Ealdmund returned to the map and continued, “Earl Eadwine of Cumberland’s Claim war for Teviotdale goes better or at least it did prior to arrival of Monio and his Galicians. Eadwine had occupied all of Teviotdale but once the war with Scotland ended Monio turned his attention to Eadwine. The Cumberlander army was soundly defeated and scattered at the Third Battle of Melrose. Now the garrison at Jedburgh is under siege.”

Ealdmund looked up from the map and said, “If some help is not rendered I fear both Gloucester and Cumberland will lose their wars.”

Beorhthelm innocently asked, “Is there anything to be done to help Earl Eadwine and Countess Mildrith?”

Rædwald looked at Hlothere and then Beorhthelm, “Unfortunately I am unable to do much. I am treaty bound and cannot declare war on King Ælfgar for another four years. Since I am not the direct liege of either Eadwine and Mildrith I cannot join in their wars.”

Beorhthelm looked around the room and asked, “Why do not their liege lords help against the English. I thought defeating the English was paramount. Keeping them down was the goal of these wars if I was told correctly.”

Hlothere glared at the Court Chaplin wondering what he was playing at. Rædwald and he had discussed the possibility of Hlothere going to war but had left it to Hlothere’s discretion. Hlothere looked at his brother who showed no signs of anything amiss. Fury and betrayal were beginning to burn within Hlothere.

Emrys spoke breaking Hlothere’s thoughts saying, “Prince of Hjalmar of Northumbria has refused several requests to aid Eadwine.”

Hlothere glared at Rædwald and replied, “Given where he is now he cannot do anything to help.”

Rædwald stared at Hlothere. Discord and descent were things he did not want especially from his brother. Rædwald responded, “It is his refusal along with other actions that have caused Hjalmar his current predicament.”

Acting as a peacemaker Beorhthelm spoke, “These times are for unity and strength are they not? Despite our feelings the English are growing stronger each day through their alliance with Galicia and soon may be able to challenge us unless we devise a way to counter them.”

Hlothere suddenly felt alone with all eyes in the room on him. He glared at his brother who stood silent, his face showing no emotion. Hlothere resented being maneuvered into doing something he really did not want to do.

Hlothere clinched his fists and looked down at the map resting on the table. Silently he cursed it and then said, “If the Council feels it is in the best interest of the kingdom I will declare a claim war for Wiltshire by month’s end.”

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The tensions in the room ebbed some. Rædwald looked at his brother and smiled. Hlothere did not return the smile but glared angrily back at Rædwald.

Acting as if he did not notice Hlothere, Rædwald said, “Last order of business is discussing the preparations for pursuing the claim on Dublin against King Snorri of Svea Rike.”

At first no one spoke. Several had hoped the king had forgotten about this. Rædwald looked around the room stopping at each person for a moment.

Finally, Emrys spoke, “Given the effects of the epidemics it will take close to year for the levies to replenish. We cannot do much until then.”

Hlothere also spoke, “The tax collection needs to get back on track also. Many places have not seen a tax collector in sometime. We will need more gold in the treasury to support such a war.”

To everyone’s surprise Rædwald nodded and said, “It is not what I like but it is what I expected.”

After a few mundane discussions about crops and trade the meeting ended. As the Counselors were leaving Rædwald touched Ealdmund on the shoulder and said, “Lord Ealdmund a moment please.”

Ealdmund stopped and faced the king. They were alone now in the room.

Rædwald looked to be sure there was no one near them and said, “Lord Spymaster I have a task for you concerning Hjalmar.”

Ealdmund was intrigued and thought he had an idea what the task was replied, “Yes, milord, how may I be of service?”

Rædwald turned and walked back toward the map table with his hands clasped behind his back, “For several years now we have tried to reason with Hjalmar.”

Ealdmund walking alongside the king responded, “Yes we have. I am afraid it has been in vain.”

Rædwald stopped at the table and looked down at the map, “Yes it has been in vain. He has betrayed the trust placed in him by giving him titles. Titles now which he no longer deserves.”

Ealdmund looked at the king and asked, “Do you plan to revoke his titles?”

Rædwald turned and looked at Ealdmund, “This would have been so much easier if he had only eluded arrest and revolted. We could have crushed him, and I could have easily revoked his titles. Perhaps he knew so and that is why he allowed himself to be arrested. “

Ealdmund frowned and said, “Yes it would have been easier. If you revoke them now you will incur the ire of the other dukes and earls.”

Rædwald nodded and smiled, “That is why he must die. I am heir to his titles.”

Ealdmund raised an eyebrow, “Die, are you sure?”

Rædwald turned back to the map, “Yes, it is the only way. Dungeons are such dangerous places. Do you not agree?”

Ealdmund swallowed hard and replied, “Yes, milord they are. Does Hlothere know of this plan?”

Rædwald turned to Ealdmund with a slight look of concern that soon faded and said, “No he does not and must never know. He is under a delusion that since we are brothers someday Hjalmar will see the light and come around. I know it will never happen. His mother, Ingrid, has filled his head with thoughts that only a Norse can be the true King of Jorvik.”

Ealdmund was not happy but understood, “Yes, I fear that you may be right. I will take care of the details.”

Rædwald smiled and patted Ealdmund on the back and said, “That is very good.”

Ealdmund bowed and left the room quickly.

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Hjalmar made this bed in which he now lies, I cannot find much sympathy for him.
 
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The oubilette! That's one way to avoid kinslayer.

But yeah, Hlothere must be rather annoyed. Forced into going to war, and the moments later his brother says his own war has to wait because he needs to rebuild after the epidemic. If that's not some hypocrisy...
 
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The oubilette! That's one way to avoid kinslayer.

But yeah, Hlothere must be rather annoyed. Forced into going to war, and the moments later his brother says his own war has to wait because he needs to rebuild after the epidemic. If that's not some hypocrisy...
Agreed the oubliette would be a much cleaner way to despatch the recalcitrant brother...
 
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Hjalmar made this bed in which he now lies, I cannot find much sympathy for him.

I have to agree as did Rædwald. Sooner or later Hjalmar's reaction were going to bring his brother's ire.

But yeah, Hlothere must be rather annoyed. Forced into going to war, and the moments later his brother says his own war has to wait because he needs to rebuild after the epidemic. If that's not some hypocrisy...

While Rædwald and Hlothere are friends and remain so for some time this is the beginning of a strained period in that friendship. The war, the plot itself, and keeping it from Hlothere will be problematic.

The oubilette! That's one way to avoid kinslayer.

Agreed the oubliette would be a much cleaner way to despatch the recalcitrant brother...

I agree also but that is not what a lunatic thinks. He wants satisfaction and the titles sooner than later.

*****

I have the next subchapter written. I still need to go over it and do some last minute edits. Unfortunately life has interfered in a big way with the health of a family member. My wife and I are faced with a huge decision that is life altering for us and the family member. So if you are inclined prayers would be appreciated. The decision is not a surprise. We have been preparing for it for months but now that it is upon us it is difficult to make. The good side of it is if it is successful, there is no reason to think that it will not, many other problems will go away and the family member should be with us for a long time. Sorry for getting off topic there.

Epidemics can be very frustrating as Rædwald will learn. Just when you think everything is going well, things can change in the blink of an eye. Along with the epidemics the English are becoming more bothersome.
 
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Chapter 7.13.2 - October 1017 York
October 1017 York

Rædwald rode at the head of the column of soldiers as they passed through the city gates. The column was much smaller than the army Rædwald had commanded almost two months ago in the south. This column numbering one hundred mainly consisted of the King’s Guard. The remainder had returned to their lands with the crisis over. Along with Rædwald rode Baron Vagn of Warwick who had been a sub commander on this campaign. The king had invited him to a celebratory feast to be held upon the king’s return to York.

As they rode into the city Rædwald noticed that the crowd was less than he had expect, far less. Nearly two months ago Rædwald had left the city with a huge crowd seeing him off to fight the raiders from Södermanland lead by Chief Haukr who had landed in Gloucester. The lack of a crowd welcoming home the victorious king was perplexing to Rædwald. It was as if the inhabitants of the city were hiding in fear.

Rædwald turned to Vagn and said, “This is most unusual. When we left there was a huge crowd to cheer us on. After such a great victory over the raiders at Winchombe one would have thought there would be the same crowd or larger upon our return.”

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Vagn looked from side to side and replied, “It is as if something is amiss.”

Rædwald nodded and said, “We must get to the keep and find out what has happened.”

Vagn nodded as Rædwald spurred his horse on. The rest of the column picked up speed to match the king’s new pace.

In a short time, they reached the king’s castle and rode through the gates into the bailey. They stopped before the gates of the keep and Rædwald, Vagn, and several guards dismounted. The grooms took their horses into their care as the king and the Baron of Warwick crossed the courtyard under the watchful eye of the guardsmen. They climbed the steps and were met at the doors to the keep by Beorhthelm.

The man standing before Rædwald was not the usual confidant and self-assured court physician. A shaken and harried soul stood at the top of steps in the shadows of the doorway. The king stopped at the top of the steps and looked over his shoulder and then returned his gaze to the court physician. The king asked, “What troubles the people that they hide and cower when they should be rejoicing and celebrating?”

In a voice that reflected his weariness Beorhthelm responded, “The consumption has returned.”

Rædwald was filled with fear and foreboding. Vagn looked around like a frightened animal that had just became aware it had wandered into a trap. Rædwald asked, “How is this so? I understood the sickness was declining.”

Beorhthelm looked down, “I know not, sire.”

With some anger brought on by fear Rædwald snapped back, “You are my physician and you do not know?”

Beorhthelm continued looking down, daring not to meet the king’s gaze, “I am not in the knowing the ways of sicknesses such as this and how they travel. I can treat them once they have stricken a person but only God knows the manner and direction the illness spreads.”

Finally, Beorhthelm looked up but he still did not look at the king’s face as he continued, “not only here has the disease struck again. It has fallen upon other counties.”

Rædwald raised an eyebrow and asked, “Speak plainly physician.”

Beorhthelm swallowed and said, “It has struck Northampton hard, sire.”

Fear struck Rædwald at his core, “Judith.”

Beorhthelm now looked at the king and said, “I fear so, sire. Your sister suffers from the illness and it has killed her husband Ælthelweald.”

Xemzgaj.png


Concern filled Rædwald, “What is her condition?”

Beorhthelm replied, “Her case does not appear to be fatal from the word I have received. She is sick but is expected to recover.”

Rædwald asked, “Her children?”

Beorhthelm was happy to answer this, “They are well with no signs of the sickness.”

Rædwald relaxed but he noticed that Beorhthelm was tensing. Feeling danger Rædwald said, “There is more is there not?”

Beorhthelm returned to looking at the floor and replied, “Here in York the disease is going after the children and the elderly.”

Rædwald looked at Beorhthelm waiting for the other shoe to drop. The king indicated Beorhthelm should continue.

The physician did so, “Birgitta of York, bastard daughter of Swæfræd and Ingrid has a serve case of the illness. She is beyond any earthly help.”

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Rædwald was sensing there was more, “Who else is afflicted?”

Beorhthelm took a deep breath and replied, “Your mother, Eadhild has a mild case.”

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Rædwald was thunderstruck. It took him a moment to recover and when he did he moved past the physician. Beorhthelm reached out to stop the king but Rædwald continued past.

Beorhthelm called after the king, “There is more.”

Rædwald continued down the hallway but slowed some.

Beorhthelm took an even deeper breath than before and said, “Wulfwaru has contracted the disease.”

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Rædwald stopped dead in his tracks. He turned and stormed back down the hall toward Beorhthelm. He stopped within inches of the physician and with his face almost touching Beorhthelm’s face.

Rædwald asked, “What have you done for them?”

Beorhthelm knew fear that he never experienced at that moment. It was the fear of being weighed and measured by a lunatic whose family was in danger. Beorhthelm knew all hung in a delicate balance and replied, “I have treated them, and they have responded well to the treatment. I expect them to fully recover.”

Rædwald did not flinch and said coldly, “For your sake I hope so.”

Rædwald then stepped back and turned. He hurried down the hall toward his daughter’s room.

Beorhthelm leaned against the cold stone arch of the door frame. His breath came heavy and labored. He prayed that he had done all he could for Eadhild and Wulfwaru for he did not want to die in some hideous manner.

*****
Later that evening Rædwald stood in his chambers staring into the fire burning in the hearth. When he visited Walfwaru he found her laying in bed sleeping soundly. Her mother, Crístina was with her. Rædwald spent some time comforting the queen.

He next visited his mother. At first, she too was sleeping. Her ladies in waiting attended to her. Rædwald spoke with them and told them to care well for her. As he was leaving she awoke and as any mother would told him she was well and to care for himself and not to worry. He humored her and left.

There was no celebratory feast that evening. Rædwald had his diner alone in his chambers. Vagn ate with Beorhthelm and Emrys who was visiting York to ready the levies for the upcoming war with Svea Rike over Dublin. Rædwald knew the war would now have to wait until Wulfwaru and Eadhild were better.

A knock came from the door disrupting Rædwald’s thoughts.

“Enter, “commanded the king.

Rædwald’s secretary entered and bowed. He held out a note and said, “A message from Prince Hlothere.”

Rædwald took the message, thanked the secretary and dismissed him.

Alone Rædwald opened the note and read it.

Countess Mildrith of Gloucester has surrendered to King Ælfgar of England. The Gloucesterian Claim War for Wiltshire is over.

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Rædwald noted that the note said nothing about the progression of Hlothere’s Claim War for Wiltshire. Rædwald was not sure a battle had even been fought yet. A message to his brother requesting an update of the war would have to be written and sent tomorrow.

He crumbled he note and threw it in the fire. He watched it curl and burn until its ashes mixed with the ashes already present in the hearth. Rædwald then summoned his butler so that he may prepare for bed.
 
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Death comes for us all. But in this game it seems to kill off most of the family in doing so. Better produce some more family members if you can. Or send some of them away if you can!
 
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Even kings are helpless against disease.
 
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Your best writing seems to concern description of this disease and the consequences thereof. Well done

My wife and I are faced with a huge decision that is life altering for us and the family member. So if you are inclined prayers would be appreciated. The decision is not a surprise. We have been preparing for it for months but now that it is upon us it is difficult to make. The good side of it is if it is successful, there is no reason to think that it will not, many other problems will go away and the family member should be with us for a long time. Sorry for getting off topic there.
I wish you and your family all the best in the decision and hopeful recovery of your loved one. Mr.
 
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I have the next subchapter written. I still need to go over it and do some last minute edits. Unfortunately life has interfered in a big way with the health of a family member. My wife and I are faced with a huge decision that is life altering for us and the family member. So if you are inclined prayers would be appreciated. The decision is not a surprise. We have been preparing for it for months but now that it is upon us it is difficult to make. The good side of it is if it is successful, there is no reason to think that it will not, many other problems will go away and the family member should be with us for a long time. Sorry for getting off topic there.

Good luck! Hopefully it all turns out well!

As for the chapter, you seem to have been hit with some rather ugly luck with the amount of epidemics that have struck. Everywhere is affected by something, and every one is affected as a result. It's what makes Reaper's Due so interesting is the upheaval it can create and the stakes that can be raised as a result, as it is largely out of your control. It can make for some compelling storytelling.
 
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Death comes for us all. But in this game it seems to kill off most of the family in doing so. Better produce some more family members if you can. Or send some of them away if you can!

In this game every king lost his oldest son to some illness. Thus far Rædwald has avoided this from happening. I have been sweating it since the epidemics began.

Even kings are helpless against disease.

That is what I am afraid of.

Your best writing seems to concern description of this disease and the consequences thereof. Well done

Thank you! These epidemics were driving me crazy as they kept coming back and strike down different groups of people.

As for the chapter, you seem to have been hit with some rather ugly luck with the amount of epidemics that have struck. Everywhere is affected by something, and every one is affected as a result. It's what makes Reaper's Due so interesting is the upheaval it can create and the stakes that can be raised as a result, as it is largely out of your control. It can make for some compelling storytelling.

These epidemics seem to be never ending and once they get going they just keep going.

I wish you and your family all the best in the decision and hopeful recovery of your loved one. Mr.

Good luck! Hopefully it all turns out well!

Thank you for the well wishes. I can say that after some worries and getting him well enoguh for the procedure things have been getting better. He had the procedure yesterday so now we are concentrating on the recovery. Hoping all goes well as there is little for us to do at this point but wait.

*****

Next chapter will hopefully be posted later tonight. It changes scenery and creates a new problem for the king.
 
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Chapter 7.13.3 - February 1018 Scone, County of Gowrie, Kingdom of Scotland
February 1018 Scone, County of Gowrie, Kingdom of Scotland

Duke Emrys of Deheubarth looked across the table at his diner companion. Guðrun returned his gaze as she chewed her food. Upon learning the Marshal of Jorvik would be visiting she invited him to dinner the night before he would see the king. She longed to see an old friend, a reminder of her previous life.

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“You have my deepest sympathies milady, for the death of your husband,” Emrys said.

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“Thank you, Lord Marshal. King Ewan fought hard against the consumption but in the end, he lost,” replied Guðrun.”

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Emrys took a sip of wine and said, “The disease has ravaged our lands also with many deaths and sickness.”

Guðrun drank some wine herself and said, “Why is the Lord Marshal here and not the Chancellor?”

Emrys chuckled, “Strula is still sequestered in his manor. The County of Chester has been hit particularly hard with both camp fever and consumption. It is said that at least one third of the county’s people have succumbed to one disease or the other.”

Guðrun shook her head and looked down at the table, “Very sad about Chester. The disease has been bad here but nowhere near that bad.”

Emrys looked somewhat melancholy as he responded, “Seeing Chester is heart retching. Only Lindsey suffered a similar fate in numbers lost.”

Guðrun with concern written all over face asked, “How fares Wulfwaru and Eadhild? I understand that the consumption has struck them.”

Emrys half smiled and replied, “Wulfwaru is cured and shows no signs of the illness. Eadhild still suffers.”

Guðrun slumped some in her chair, “Sometimes being young helps during times like these. I am sure Eadhild will recover. She is a stubborn old lady to let some illness take her.”

Emrys chuckled, “One thing the Queen Mother is, is tough.”

Guðrun took a long drink of wine and motioned to a servant to fill her empty cup. After the servant did so she took a small sip and said, “You are not hear to discuss diseases or even just to offer condolences and congratulations to our newly elected King Malcolm.”

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Emrys chuckled, “I am hear on official business of King Rædwald to offer his sympathies and congratulations to King Malcolm of Scotland.” He ended with a huge smile on the verge of laughter.

Guðrun laughed a little also and then turned serious. Serious enough it worried the old marshal. She asked, “What is the true nature of your business?”

Trying hide his concern Emrys replied, “To offer a marriage proposal and with it a non-aggression pact.”

Guðrun asked, “If I may ask who is this pairing?”

Emrys sipped some wine and responded, “Wulfwaru to King Malcom.”

Guðrun swirled her cup around and looked deep into it and took a deep drink, “I fear you may find yourself not so welcome in the Scottish court these days.”

Perplexed Emrys, “Why is that milady? Since Rædwald came to Scotland’s aid when England tried to bring them under heel our relations have been good. Your marriage to King Ewan even solidified those good dealings.”

Guðrun took a deep breath and pushed her plate of half eaten food aside and replied, “King Alpin III being their grandfather is the only thing that Ewan and Malcom share I fear.”

Becoming more concerned Emrys said, “Please explain, milady.”

Guðrun drained her cup. This time she did not ask for more. “Malcom does feel the same about my cousin Rædwald as Ewan did. He only remembers the stories of days gone by and how the Norse ravaged the land and usurped as he calls them ‘the God appointed rulers of England and Scotland’.”

Emrys now drained his cup and he did ask for more which a servant quickly obliged. “That is very distressing. Rædwald has gone to great lengths to bring the Anglo-Saxon population into the kingdom. He now uses the Anglo-Saxon names for the lords and places.”

Guðrun looked at Emrys and said, “I counseled him so, but he considers me an outcast due to my Norse heritage. Many in the Council have warned him that he goes down a treacherous path. He hears rumors that Rædwald will bring back the Norse names.”

Emrys frowned, “Far too many times kings do not heed good counsel. As to the Norse names I have heard no talk of this.”

Guðrun sighed, “Nevertheless Malcolm feels he would do better joining with King Ælfgar than fighting him. Even as we speak Malcolm’s Chancellor, Earl Stephan of Strathern attends the court of King Ælfgar in Westminster.”

Emrys shook his head and asked, “Why would Malcolm think joining with King Ælfgar a wise choice?”

Guðrun drank some more wine and leaned back in her chair, “He feels that Ælfgar is stronger.”

Emrys asked quickly, “How so?”

Guðrun shook her head for she knew the reasoning was not sound, “He cites Ælfgar has proven himself in the wars he has fought. The English king forced King Ewan into a White Peace, he defeated the Gloucesterians. Two months ago, Earl Eadwine of Cumberland was forced to sign a White Peace.”

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Emrys scoffed at what Guðrun said, “Ælfgar only won those wars because of help from the Galicians.”

Guðrun was a little taken back by Emrys reaction and said, “Good friend I know the truth as you do. I was queen until a few weeks ago. I recall when Ælfgar lost most of his levies in Aragon aiding King Drogo and his so-called holy war which he lost last October.”

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“Ælfgar’s own father, Oshere, went against his wishes and is at war with Galicia.”

Emrys leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, “Prince Oshere’s War for the Throne of Galicia will be at an end shortly. Oshere is all but finished and at last word trapped in the city of Gijón.”

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Guðrun bit her lower lip and said, “That will not bode well for Hlothere and his war with Ælfgar. More Galicians will appear amongst the ranks of the English.”

Emrys uncrossed his arms and leaned forward, “That is why Rædwald wished for the marriage. We hoped for aid from Malcolm but if what you say is true there will be none.”

Guðrun looked very forlorn now as she said, “There will be no aid. I fear there may soon be open hostilities against Jorvik from Malcolm.”

Emrys shook his head and said, “Very disturbing news but I welcome the warning milady. I will tread lightly tomorrow.”

Guðrun smiled, “I wish you all the luck tomorrow. You will need it.”

Emrys rose from the table and bowed, “Thank you for dinner and intriguing conversation.”

Guðrun chuckled and Emrys grinned back at her, “Duke Emrys it was a pleasure. Godspeed on your journey back to York. I am rarely called to court these days and I feel you will be leaving in a hurry after your audience with Malcolm and I will not see you before you depart.”

Emrys bowed again and said, “Thank you, Your Highness.” As former Queen of Scotland and longtime friend he felt she deserved such. He turned and left her chambers.

*****

The next day Emrys entered the throne room of King Malcolm of Scotland. As Emrys progressed from the doors to the throne he thought to himself how dark and empty the throne room seemed compared to Rædwald’s in York. Some of the banners that adored the walls were missing. The small audience comprising of several nobles from various counties and duchies within Scotland eyed the Jorvikian Marshal with contempt. This was not the same welcome that Emrys had experienced with King Ewan many years before. Emrys did note that the Chancellor was missing as was the spymaster, Earl Stephan of Tyrconnell. The marshal, Earl Malmure of Oriel stood off to the king’s left with a look of despair that bordered on panic. The Steward, Bishop Morgan of St Andrews stood on the king’s left, while Bishop Gilbride of Iona, the Court Chaplin, stood to the right of the king.

Once he reached the dais Emrys bowed as the crier announced him.

King Malcolm stared down at Emrys and asked, “What does the Lord Marshal of Jorvik want in our court this day?”

Emrys noted that the tone of the king seemed curious yet still filled with contempt. Emrys replied, “I bring you congratulations on your election as King and also heartfelt and deepest sympathies on the passing of King Ewan from King Rædwald of Jorvik.”

To Emrys’ surprise it was Bishop Morgan who responded, not King Malcolm, “We are grateful for King Rædwald’s congratulations and sympathies.”

Before Emrys could say another word Gilbride spoke. His voice was full of venom though he tried to mask it. “It is our understanding that your king has been declared cured of consumption.”

Emrys was confused as he did expect this conversation, “Yes, the Court Physician Beorhthelm has stated such.”

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Gilbride stroked his chin and beard, “Ah, yes the monk. The one with supposed mystical powers. Strange how such a man found his way to York.”

Emrys decided to spare some to get a feel for what was happening, “Many say he was sent by God as he has cured many people.”

Emrys thought, Myself included. If it had not been for Beorhthelm consumption would have taken me by now.

Gilbride smirked and said, “Sent by God. Does make you wonder.” Suddenly Gilbride began to cough. He turned away from the king and the audience. It was several minutes before the coughing subsided.

Emrys inwardly smiled and thought, Consumption eats at you Bishop Gilbride the Wicked. Your affairs and amusements are known in our court. Now you realize who is the favored of Our Lord and it is not you.

Malcolm suddenly raised his hand and said, “Enough. We tarry too long.”

Emrys felt the king was going to say more but held back. Instead Malcom glared at Emrys with eyes full of distrust and perhaps even hatred. From this moment Emrys knew he needed to tread lightly, even lighter than he planned.

Malcolm continued glaring at Emrys and said, “Rædwald would not send his marshal to pass well wishes. Welshman why are you in our presence?”

It took Emrys a moment. He had not been called Welsh in many years. The sound of it was strange to his ears. He felt Malcolm was playing at something.

“I am here to offer a betrothal between the House of Hvitserk and the House of MacAilpin.”

Malcolm smirked, “I was not aware that there were any available for such a proposal. Rædwald has been busy with marriages recently.”

Malcolm turned to Morgan. Morgan looked at his king and then at Emrys. “Yes, he has, Sire. He married his niece, Leofflæd, daughter of his half-brother Æthelweald, who was once Earl of Gloucester before he revolted against his half-brother, to Heinrich, grandson of King Karl III of East Francia.”

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Morgan smirked at Emrys. That discomforting feeling in the pit of the marshal’s stomach was growing.

Morgan continued, “He has arranged a betrothal for one of his brother Swæfræd’s bastard daughters, Ecgfrida to Prince Thierry of Aquitaine, son of King Thierry II.”

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Bordering on sarcastic Malcolm asked, “Who did Rædwald have in mind?”

Emrys knew that his cause was lost but he was obligated to complete his task, “The Princess Wulfwaru to you, King Malcolm.”

At first Malcolm did not say anything as he tried hide the shock. Obliviously he had not expected to be the subject of any betrothal. He looked at Morgan and then Gilbride. He returned his gaze to Emrys and laughed. Confusion filled Emrys which was quickly filled with fear for his life.

“Truly your king jests,” stated Malcolm.

Emrys was silent. He could find no words to respond with.

Malcolm leaned forward resting his right arm on his knee and hissed, “The House of Hvitserk. Descendants of the evil spawn of Ragnarr Loðbrok. Murders and usurpers. Long has the House of MacAilpin defended Scotland against their ilk.” Malcolm stood and pointed at Emrys, “It is bad enough that my cousin Ewan married one of his cursed family. I would never marry the daughter of that house especially the bitch of the Priest-Hater.”

Emrys was not sure if Malcolm was going to continue his insults because he began to cough. The coughing became more and more intense to the point where Malcolm fell to his knees.

Emrys’ blood was boiling. He seriously entertained drawing his sword and beheading the king. More rationale thoughts overtook his primeval urges. He needed to get away from here and report back to Rædwald.

Consumption and appears to be the final stages. You do not have long, thought Emrys and an evil grin came to his face.

Between coughs Malcolm pointed to Emrys and said, “Begone, slave of Norse scum.”

Emrys did not even bow. He turned and left the throne room at the fastest walking pace of his life. Once outside the keep he found his escort of Jorvikian and Deheubarthian guards waiting with his mount. The men all battle-hardened knew something was amiss and were ready for a fight. Without a word Emrys mounted his horse. Once in the saddle he urged the horse forward and within a moment’s time he and his guards were galloping south toward their waiting ships.

While at the docks waiting for the horses and luggage to be quickly loaded Emrys noticed a familiar figure walking across the docks towards him. Emrys walked toward the man. Reaching the man Emrys embraced him. The two men released each other and stepped back.

“Earl Malmure, old friend.”

Malmure tried to smile, “It is good to see you again, old friend.” Malmure took a deep breath and continued, “Long have shared the battlefield. I fear next time we see one another on the field of glory it will be not as brothers but as enemies.”

Emrys frowned and replied, “Why do speak so?”

Malmure shook his head, “You heard the insults. Whether you speak of them to Rædwald or not he will learn of them and they will be answered.”

Emrys nodded, “And the answer will be war. But why? Malcolm cannot win.”

Malmure sighed, “Not alone he can’t. He hopes to bring England and their Galician allies.”

Now it was Emrys’ turn to sigh, “It will be an ugly war.”

Malmure nodded and embraced Emrys, “Go with God, friend.”

Emrys replied, “May He watch over you, brother.”

The two men released each other. Malmure turned and walked away disappearing into the shadows. Emrys stood alone, his heart heavy. Finally he turned and walked back to the ship.
 
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Well that was a wasted trip for Emrys. Well, not wasted - much that is useful to know was learned. Still its purpose was to naught.

But perhaps this Malcolm is not long for the world.
 
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Well that was a wasted trip for Emrys. Well, not wasted - much that is useful to know was learned. Still its purpose was to naught.

But perhaps this Malcolm is not long for the world.

Malcolm will discover what happens when you insult a lunatic. That is this chapter's purpose.
 
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Good thing Malcom's not long for this world. Would not want to be Guðrun, being of Norse heritage, with her cousins strong in the south, and pregnant with his cousin's child. If ever there were a threat to one's power...
 
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Good thing Malcom's not long for this world. Would not want to be Guðrun, being of Norse heritage, with her cousins strong in the south, and pregnant with his cousin's child. If ever there were a threat to one's power...

Wow I completely missed Guðrun being pregnant :(:eek:. Nice observation.

Malcolm is going to have bigger problems as you will see in the coming chapter.
 
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Chapter 7.14.1 - 15 July 1018 Bishopric of Whithorn, County of Rhinns
Chapter 7.14

15 July 1018 Bishopric of Whithorn, County of Rhinns

Emrys drew his horse up to the crest of the hill. He removed his helmet and his right gauntlet to wipe the sweat from his brow and eyes. In full armor the July heat was exceptionally oppressive. He reached down to his saddle and removed his waterskin and took a long drink.

He looked down at the scene spread out before him and smiled like a child that had found a treasure. King Rædwald rode up alongside the Marshal of Jorvik. Emrys offered the waterskin to Rædwald who removed a gauntlet and helmet also. The king took a long drink and returned the waterskin to Emrys who secured the waterskin to its place on his saddle.

Almost giddy Emrys pointed to the battle below and said, “Is it not a thing of beauty?”

Rædwald who was experiencing his prebattle jitters could only manage a nod.

Jovial Emrys continued, “Chancellor Dathgus mac Cummascach of Ulaidh has done a masterful job with his 1,000 Ulsterians, 700 Tír Eoghainians, and 4,700 Jorvikians under Mayor Uhtræd of Scarborough. He has fought and held in place King Malcolm and his 5,200 Scots.”

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Rædwald now recovered from his jitters smiled and said, “And now we with our 5,000 Jorvikians are about to set upon his left flank.”

As Rædwald spoke the other flank commander, Baron Vagn of Warwick, joined them.

Emrys still smiling said, “As I said a thing of beauty.”

Vagn nodded and replied, “I agree.”

Emrys did not know the baron had arrived and turned to look at him, “Now that my flank commanders are present we can begin. Calvary will charge. Infantry follows. Now go to your flanks and await my signal.”

Rædwald and Vagn nodded. Rædwald put his helmet and gauntlet back on. Both turned their horses and galloped to their commands. Emrys placed his helmet on and slipped the gauntlet over his hand. The smile never disappeared from his face.

His army began drawing up to the crest of the hill. Calvary in front, followed by the light infantry, archers, heavy infantry, and pikemen they deployed for battle.

After about ten minutes Emrys received word that Rædwald and Vagn were ready. He turned to his trumpeter and nodded. The trumpeter raised his instrument to his lips. The blare of the trumpet filled the air. Emrys raised his right arm over his head and then lowered it pointing forward.

With a loud cheer the horse began to move. Frist a crawl and then a trot. Next came a cantor and finally half way down the hill a full gallop. Lances were brought ready and face plates lowered.

As Rædwald charged down the hill he could see motion in the Scottish troops. At first it was small but then it grew and Rædwald realized it was centered around King Malcolm’s banner. At first Rædwald’s did not want to believe what he was seeing was real, but it was. King Malcolm was going to counter charge him.

What was Malcolm thinking? A foolish move? Knowing all was lost and go down in manner fit for a great song? Then a thought came to Rædwald. A way to win the war in one desperate and bold stroke; capture or kill the King of Jorvik. An evil smile came to Rædwald, that can work both ways.

Rædwald shouted at the top of lungs, “Capture the king!” A roar went up from the men around him.

The Scottish horse with Malcolm in the lead broke from their ranks and headed toward the charging Jorvikians. The ground shook, and all sounds were drowned out expect for the thunder of forty-four hundred hooves slamming into the ground on their way into chaos.

For a fleeting moment Rædwald saw Malcolm. Rædwald tried to direct his mount toward the Scottish king but the crush of men around him prevented him from doing so. Then in a moment the two forces collided, and hell was unleashed. The crash of shields and armor, the snapping of lances and clash of swords, axes, and maces, the sickening sounds of flesh being torn, and bones being broken resonated throughout the battlefield. The screams of men and horses soon echoed like damned spirits set loose to haunt the living forever more.

Rædwald soon found himself amid a life and death struggle. At a full galloped he thrust his lance into the chest of screaming Scottish rider who was trying to get at the king with a long sword. The lance easily pierced the Scot’s armor and his heart, and he flew backward off the horse.

Rædwald dodged a lance thrust from a passing Scot. Rædwald recovered and parried another thrust and stabbed the attacking horseman. This time as the rider fell the lance was ripped from Rædwald’s hands.

Rædwald quickly drew his sword and found he had ridden through the Scottish cavalry. He turned and looked behind him finding himself surrounded by his fellow Jorvikians. The Scottish cavalry had all but disappeared. He turned to continue the attack toward the Scottish lines, but they were gone, swept aside by Emrys and Vagn’s forces. The Scottish were in full flight from the battlefield.

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*****

As the sun began to set and sky turned red to match the blood on the fields the scavengers, both human and animal moved among the carnage. The animals circulated through the dead out of instincts and survival. A few of the humans came to this scene out of compassion to find and care for the wounded. Many others came to rob the bodies of anything that could be sold or for the chance to find the body of a noble or knight that could be sold back to their families for burial. Lastly came the ones who collected the bodies to bury them in mass graves dug about the field.

One group of questionable individuals came upon a scene of many dead Scottish cavalrymen. The bodies lie broken with their horses in a small cluster. Seeing several banners of the Scottish nobility among the wreckage the leader of the group figured that he would find several bodies worth some coin. He and his men picked through the strewn bodies until to their surprise they came a body that was still breathing. Normally in such a case a quick death for the wounded man was in the making, however, one glimpse at this man’s armor and attire saved his life for the moment. It was obvious the man had been thrown from his horse and then trampled by the charging horses. His limbs were misshapen from the pounding they had received, and the body was mostly a bloody pulp. The cold grey eyes, however, followed the movement of the scavengers. The leader sent several of his men to fetch a litter.

*****

A little over two hours later Rædwald and Emrys walked toward the tent that the wounded Scottish noble had been brought. At the tent Beorhthelm greeted them.

Rædwald looked at the court physician and asked, “Is it confirmed?”

Beorhthelm nodded, “Yes, Sire. It is King Malcolm.”

Not sure if he should smile or not Rædwald asked, “How bad is he?”

Beorhthelm became very somber and shook his head, “Not very good. He was unhorsed sometime during the cavalry charges and then trampled under the horses. His right leg is crushed to a pulp and his left leg is broken in many places as is both of his arms. Many of his ribs are fractured and his back is broken. He is bleeding from many wounds on his body and face. There are bruises everywhere. I am amazed he is still alive.”

Rædwald stood silent. He suddenly no longer had the desire to enter the tent and gloat over the Scottish king. Some of the fires of hatred Rædwald held for Malcolm had been lessened.

Emrys always the soldier jumped to his conclusion on the king’s health and asked, “How long does he have?”

Beorhthelm took a deep breath and replied, “A few hours, a day, two days, three. I know not. It is in God’s hands.”

Both Rædwald and Emrys nodded. Rædwald reached for the tent flap. His arm was stopped by Beorhthelm. Annoyed that Beorhthelm blocked his entry Rædwald glared at him.

Beorhthelm showing no emotion said, “I must warn you, my king. The scene in there is rather gruesome.”

Rædwald nodded and Beorhthelm lowered his arm and Rædwald entered the tent followed by Emrys. The tent was dark except for a few candles that kept the light from penetrating the corners. Near one side was a bed and, on the bed, lay a man. He was covered from his feet to his neck by several blankets. Only his head and face were exposed. Blood seeped through the blankets in several locations. His face was swollen and bruised. Dried blood seemed to be intermingled with his beard and mustache.

Rædwald had come to the tent hoping that Malcolm would regain consciousness and able to surrender as a condition for his release. In his current state Rædwald had no use for him. Some of the hatred that had dissipated upon hearing of Malcolm’s condition returned.

Rædwald looked at the mangled man before him and said, “You spit on my house and insult my daughter when I offered you peace and protection. You thought that King Ælfgar would protect you. Where are your English protectors and their Galician allies now? You are alone. Mide, Connachta, Ulaidh, and Tír Eoghain all answered my call to war. I will crush your armies and take your castles and keeps. Your people will now be my tributaries for a very long time.”

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Rædwald turned and stormed out of the tent leaving Emrys alone. Emrys bowed his head and said a short prayer for a fellow solider before he left.

Three days later King Malcolm passed from the world of the living.

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I must say I noticed Rædwald's four designations - husband, rogue, scholar, King. Four good ways of labelling him.