Whiteshirts of England: A History of the Hvitserk Dynasty of Jorvik AAR

[tpmcinty]

Chapter 7.10

March 1012 York

The spring sun found it hard to penetrate the strategy room. Darkness and shadows lingered in the corners. To Hlothere it felt like tentacles reaching out and surrounding him. They crushed his chest making breathing a chore. The gloom of the chambers was feeding off the mood of his brother.

Since Rædwald had entered the chambers Hlothere could sense his brother was troubled and angry. The king stormed across the room, looked at some documents on the table and then with grunt of disgust threw them across the room. Now leaning on his fist the king glared at the map of Jorvik and England that had been left on the table. After a few moments he rose from the table and walked over to the shelf and selected another map. He strolled back to the table and threw the map of Ireland across the map. Rubbing his chin he concentrated on the map.

Hlothere suspected he knew the reason for his brother’s foul mood. He had heard the rumors too. If true they were rather upsetting and annoying since they had tried to prevent it from happening. Hlothere knew not to mentioned the subject until his brother had calmed some.

Hoping a different approach would work Hlothere asked, “What has your interest in Ireland, brother.”

Rædwald did not speak or move at first. After a moment he raised his eyes without moving his head to look up at Hlothere.

Under his breath and barely audible Rædwald muttered, “Damn raiders.”

Not understanding his brother Hlothere asked, “What was that, brother?”

Rædwald lifted his fists off the table and stood erect. He looked at Hlothere and asked, “How many times over the last few years have we had to deal with raiders from Södermanland?”

Hlothere had not expected the conversation to go this way. He had to take a moment to think. “I know of two times. Once before the war with England when Chief Haukr landed in Gloucester. He fled before Sumarliði could bring him to battle. The second was during the war when Haukr landed in Glamorgan. Again he fled when an army came close to him.”

Rædwald caught a slight look of pain on Hlothere’s face. The army he spoke of was the remnants of his brother’s army after Hlothere’s defeat at Melrose. Sigfrið had the army regrouping in Powys afterwards. When the raiders appeared he began to move the army south. Sensing trouble Haukr fled before Sigfrið came near.

With some anger in his voice Rædwald said, “ Over the last two years Haukr and others from Uppland, and Gotland have raided Devon, Oriel, Rhinns, and Argyll. Do know what they all have in common?”

Hlothere was not liking the questions as he had not been following recent raids. Rædwald sensed Hlothere’s despair and said, “I should realize you have not been concerned recently with the coming and goings of raiders in the Irish Sea. You have been busy with replenishing the treasury and reestablishing efficient tax collection since the war with England.”

Rædwald chuckled seeing the relief in his brother’s face. “Therefore I shall answer my own question. They all are vassals of King Snorri of Svea Rike.”

Hlothere knew his brother had a plan brewing and wanted to know what it was, “Interesting brother.”

Rædwald was about to speak when a noise of someone humming floated into the chamber. With wondering looks Hlothere and Rædwald looked at one another. They then turned their heads toward the entrance.

Mayor Strua, Chancellor, stepped into the room. Under his right arm he held a scroll. Humming as he walked he approached the king. Oblivious to all the mayor continued his journey across the room at a brisk. Some sort of sixth sense triggered and Strula realize he was being scrutinized by the king and his brother. Now being self conscious he stopped humming and slowed his pace.

Seeing the awkwardness in Strula Rædwald smiled and said, “Strula, my dear chancellor what do have under your arm there? Quick bring it here.”

Strula was still wary as he approached his king. Once before the king he bowed. He reached under his arm and grabbed the scroll. He bowed and as he was handing the king the scroll he said, “This arrived this morning.”

Rædwald took the scroll and before he began to unroll it said, “You know what it is, so if you please.”

Still recovering from his awkward entrance Strula cleared his throat, “It is the signed betrothal contract with King Refr of Norge concerning the marriage of his son Prince Hakjell to Hextilda Æthelwealdsdotor daughter of the late Earl Æthelweald of Gloucester.”

With a large smile on his face Rædwald began to unroll the scroll, “Perfect, just perfect.”

Rædwald read the document in particular King Refr’s signature and seal. As he did so Hlothere walked over and stood next to Rædwald so he could too read the document.

Rædwald smiled and looked at Hlothere and said, “An alliance with Refr could be advantageous dealing with these raiders.”

Both Rædwald and Hlothere turned slowly and looked at Strula with sly grins. Strula looked horrified. The last thing he wanted was to take a trip to Refr’s capital in far off Kemi. Given the fact that Refr was also involved in numerous wars and revolts safety was a major concern.

Seeing Strula’s distress Rædwald chuckled, “Don’t worry old friend there is no trip to the far off reaches of the Gulf of Bothnia. Refr is involved in too many conflicts to be of any use for. How many wars is he fighting?”

Hlothere made a face as he thought, “I think at last count it was nine.”

The number surprised Rædwald, “Nine?”

Hlothere nodded.

Disappointed in losing a potential ally Rædwald said, “That does not help us with our problem.”

Confused and realizing he was absent for the conversation Strula asked, “Problem? What problem?”

Rædwald returned to the map and then looked at Strula, “We were discussing the problem with raiders in the Irish Sea who are vassals of King Snorri of Svea Rike.”

Strula was still confused, “They have not landed on Jorvikian soil in years.”

Hlothere walked around to the other side of the table from his brother. As he did so he dragged his hand along the map, “That is because our coastal patrols have been able to thwart their landings. We know of at least a dozen times they approached our coast.”

Rædwald looked at Strula, “It has been costly to maintain such vigilance. It also wears on those who must do the patrolling. We need something to convince Snorri to control them. A punishment of some type.”

Strula still felt he was missing something, “What type of punishment? An attack, a war?”

Hlothere thought it was time to add some levity to the moment, “We could recruit some raiders of our own and send them off to Svea Rike.”

Rædwald raised his eyebrows and looked at his brother. He knew he was up to something.

Hlothere knew an opportunity to tease his old friend Strula and was going to take it, “We will need someone to lead them. Someone from Council would lend a seriousness to such an adventure. Since it is a raiding party he would have to be Norse.”

Being the only one of Norse blood on the Council Strula eyes widened. The color drained from his face. Strula looked desperately at Rædwald. Rædwald at first was stern but then laughed.

“Enough brother. You will give the good Chancellor a seizure and I need him.”

Strula looked at Hlothere who had a huge smile on his face. Strula returned the smile with a look that said he will get his revenge some day.

Rædwald turned serious, “You are correct Strula a war is what may be needed to teach Snorri a lesson.”

Strula now feeling better that he knew what was being discussed, “A tribute war?”

Rædwald already knew the answer to that, “No that will not do. Svea Rike is not a wealthy kingdom. As a matter of fact Snorri is almost bankrupt. If we make him a tributary they would use raiding to pay his tribute. That would not do.”

Hlothere was lost for ideas, “Then what can we do?”

Rædwald smiled. It was his turn to tease, “We take something from him.”

Hlothere was growing impatient, “What could we take?”

Rædwald smiled and pointed to the map. Hlothere and Strula followed his finger down to the map. Both looked surprised at where he was pointing.

Hlothere then looked up at Rædwald and asked, “Dublin? But you do not have a claim.”

Rædwald nodded. He had anticipated such a point. “That is where our good Chancellor comes in.”

Rædwald looked at Strula. Strula now understood. While he knew it would be difficult it was better than heading off to Scandinavia. “It would be difficult and it could be costly.”

Rædwald looked at Strula. “Can you do it?”

Strula who was enjoying the attention now replied, “Yes.”

Hlothere ran his hand through his hair. Now it was his turn for doubts and confusion. “How can you do it?”

Strula smirked. Now he was in charge and the expert. “You are of the blood of Ragnarr Loðbrok. At one time or another Ivar the Boneless and Björn Ironsides ruled Dublin. It will take time but a connection can be found.”

Rædwald knew Strula meant a connection could be fabricated. A smile came over the king. “Very good.” Rædwald looked sternly at Strula and said, “You now have a new task, Chancellor. Do not disappoint me.”

Proud that his king had confidence in him Strula replied, “I will see that it is done.”

Rædwald nodded. Strula bowed. Rædwald motioned that he could leave and Strula turned and walked out of the chamber.

Once Strula exited Hlothere looked at his brother. He knew there was more to this than raiders. “Taking Dublin will not end raiding and you know it. What is your true plan?”

Rædwald tried to look innocent. Rædwald knew Hlothere understood him, sometimes better than he knew himself. “I want Ireland for my Eadweard. He will inherit Mide from his mother. We will keep Tír Eoghai, Ulaidh, and Connachta under our thumb. When his time comes Eadweard can conquer them outright or make them tributary.”

Hlothere could see his brother formulating such a scheme, “What of Ewan and Scotland. You have spent time and blood supporting him. He controls Oriel and Tyrconnell.”

Rædwald had plans for Scotland. He just was not ready to reveal them, “In time Ewan will no longer be king and the new king will no longer warrant our support.”

Hlothere knew his brother was not telling all and that he would not at this time so he nodded and said, “I am sure in due time you will share you plans.”

Rædwald smiled. Sensing that Hlothere still had something on his mind Rædwald asked, “I feel you still have something to discuss.”

Hlothere rubbed his hands together nervously. He knew what he was about to say could be contentious, “What of our brothers Hjalmar and Swæfræd?”

Rædwald was never enthused to discuss his wayward brothers as he considered them. Hjalmar we will discuss at a later date. With him I have much to ponder.”

Hlothere had not thought Rædwald would ignore Hjalmar at this time. But then again his brother was always scheming so what was on the surface might be all that there was. “And Swæfræd?”

Rædwald smiled and almost laughed. Hlothere for a moment thought his brother may have gone mad. “He is no longer our concern. A higher authority is in taking over.”

Hlothere’s eyes widen. Something awful must have happened.

Rædwald laughed at his brother’s reaction, “No, he is not dead or injured….yet.”

Hlothere could not contain himself, “Yet? What is happening?”

Rædwald was enjoying torturing his brother, “Mother is handling the matter.”

Hlothere was truly surprised, “Mother! When does Swæfræd arrive?”

Rædwald smirked. He knew his brother was going to have a major reaction with the next bit of news, “Swæfræd does not need to travel. Mother will visit him.”

The news hit Hlothere like a huge punch in the gut. He almost staggered, “Mother is traveling. Is the world ending?”

Rædwald smiled, “Perhaps for some. Given the news of the last few days mother feels that it is necessary for her to visit her son and explain the world to him.”

Hlothere regained his composure. “Does Swæfræd know?’

Rædwald had a evil grin, “Not yet but he will soon.”

Hlother returned the evil grin, “The question is will mother kill him or the stress of knowing she is visiting kill him?”

Rædwald laughed

 

[tpmcinty]

June 1012 Caerwent, County of Gwent

Nervous. Swæfræd was far past nervous. He was well on his way to a mental breakdown. He was sweating and his throat was dry. No amount of wine or ale could clinch his thirst. His stomach was in knots and he had not eaten a full meal in days. Sleep. What was sleep? As this day approached he slept less and less. Last night he hardly slept at all. His groom tried his best to hide the effects of the stress but to little avail. He paced about his private audience chamber like a caged animal.

His wife, Eadhburh sat in her chair watching him with one eye. The other drifted to the door frightened it would open. Their almost nine month old daughter, Hereswith, was with her nanny. Eadhburh worried obsessively about the baby. Rumors were beginning to spread that she suffered from dwarfism.

Deep down she felt that Swæfræd was not pleased with the condition of his heir or with her. She knew that he did not consider her to be beautiful. Many times he criticized her for being bookish and in his words boring. She did not like to go hunting or even travel from town to town. She preferred to stay in the keep and read her books. She and Swæfræd got together as husband and wife rarely. However they had done so recently and Eadhburh felt that she was beginning to show signs of being with child. If so and if she bore him a male heir perhaps some of the attitude toward her would lessen.

In addition to his wife his Chancellor, Mayor Geirr of Newport, and his Court Chaplin, Yngvar were present in the room. As they always were when Swæfræd held an audience several guards were stationed in the room. Servants were also in attendance to wait on their lord and his guests’ needs.

Eadhburh tiring of watching Swæfræd pace finally said, “Please sit down. You will give yourself an apoplexy.”

Swæfræd stopped and whirled around facing Eadhburh. His eyes were wide and his face contorted like he was in pain. Eadhburh had never seen him like this, “You do not understand.”

Thinking he was just a nervous son Eadhburh said, “It is your mother visiting. Sometimes they do that.”

Swæfræd shook his head and held it in his hands, “You have no idea of which you speak.”

Eadhburh did not care for the tone of his voice and glared at Swæfræd. Swæfræd noticed and realized that his words were spoken in a tone driven by his fear and wishing he was elsewhere. “My mother does not make visits. She never leaves places unless there is some disastrous event, or a revolt.”

By the look on Eadhburh’s face Swæfræd could tell she still did not understand. Trying not to let his anxiety and frustrations boil over he said, “My mother lived in the Barony of Warwick for many years. My brothers, sister, and I were all born there. For many years my mother knew that Þegen Hereberht of Warwick was plotting against both Rædwald and Hlothere she refused to leave. King Eilif insisted that she leave but again she would not. In order to protect him Eilif eventually had Rædwald move to York. Finally when I was two and half Hereberht died in a hunting accident. Many people thought that she had something to do with the death. I do not believe she did. Like many others I think my sister, Ælfthryth was involved if not the leader. Finally after several incidents with the rabble who supported Hereberht that almost resulted in her death she reluctantly moved.”

However, even that took a huge amount of persuasion. Duke Anlaufr of Powys who inherited the Barony of Warwick acting under orders from King Eilif moved her from Warwick to Ludlow. She would remain there until the revolt of Countess Maria of Hereford erupted and Anlaufr joined the rebels. She then fled to York. She has not left York since.”

He looked at the door to the room. Apprehension showing in his face and body, “Now she is coming here.”

Eadhburh gave up any future attempts to calm her husband. She began to hope that someone would come to the door to take her back to her daughter.

A moment later the doors swung open. The guard at the door cried, “Queen Mother Eadhild of York”

Eadhild began to step into the room but she stopped. She turned and said something to her guards. The guards stepped back and only she walked into the room. Those present looked at her entrance as odd. As she neared Swæfræd she locked gazes with him. He could see the storm brewing in her eyes. Sweat began anew on his brow and down his back. He tried to swallow but his throat was dry.

About two thirds of the way to her son. She stopped and looked around the room at the people in attendance. In a voice that could command the devil she roared, “Everyone out!”

Started half out of their wits all eyes stared at her. No one moved. Swæfræd seemed to be frozen in fear. She scanned the room again and seeing no one leaving roared again “I said everyone leave. This is between my son and I alone.” Some who were present swore later that they saw the beginnings of dragonfire coming from her mouth.

Swæfræd regained his wits and nodded. There was a mad scramble to leave the room. At first some guards were reluctant but one look from Eadhild convinced them to leave.

Eadhburh hesitated. As Swæfræd’s wife she thought her place should be with him. Eadhild thought otherwise. The Queen Mother said to her, “Child you especially need to leave. You do not need to be witness to what is about to happen.”

Eadhburh was both shocked and relieved. With dignity she rose, bowed to her husband and the Queen Mother. She then hastily left by the rear door.

Eadhild turned and seeing Mayor Geirr about to leave called him back, “Mayor Geirr, a word please.”

Geirr stopped. He turned and smiled. He walked back to Eadhild. “Yes, milady.”

Eadhild looked over the mayor. She huffed her unapproving assessment of the man, “You were my son’s regent before he came of age.”

Bursting with pride Geirr replied, “Yes, and he has turned out to be a great Earl, loved by his subjects.”

Almost spitting on Geirr Eadhild said, “So you are the buffoon who married my son to that dull, bookish, and ugly excuse for a bride who is twice his age.”

The smile and color drained from Geirr’s face. Before he could say anything Eadhild continued, “Were you getting back at Eilif for throwing Sif in the dungeon? What happened to the man Count Þorgil would praise for his leadership and ability to rule?”

Paralyzed from the verbal attack Geirr stood dumbfounded for a moment.

Eadhild continued with her assault, “Swæfræd should fire you as Chancellor, remove you as mayor and either throw you in the dungeon or banish you.”

Geirr looked at Eadhild. He had never been spoken to in such a manner and was at a loss for words. As he recovered Eadhild said to him, “That is all. Now leave us.”

Like someone in a trance Geirr walked to the door. He could not get away from Eadhild fast enough. Eadhild’s gaze followed Geirr out of the room. Once Geirr exited the room. Eadhild yelled, “Shut the doors.”

Upon hearing the bang of the doors closing Eadhild turned her full attention to Swæfræd.

Swæfræd walked slowly toward his mother. He outstretched his arms and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. He never made it. Eadhild raised her right hand and slapped him on his cheek with all her might. No expecting the slap and from its force Swæfræd nearly fell over. He stepped back and stood up straight. He placed his left hand over the side of his face which was glowing red. With his tongue he checked to see if lost any teeth. The whole side of his face hurt as he rubbed his hand over.

He looked at his mother and seeing she was ready to strike again he backed away and cowarded. Through the pain and confusion he pleaded, “Mother, why?”

She lowered her hand but the anger in her face remained, “You have disrespected your family, your king, and me.”

Afraid and confused Swæfræd asked, “How have I disrespected anyone?”

Eadhild glared at him, “By your actions.”

Still rubbing his face Swæfræd, “Actions? What actions?”

Growing frustrated which was only feeding her anger Eadhild said, “How many women have you bedded in the last year or so?”

Shocked at his mother’s question and a little embarrassed Swæfræd responded, “I do not keep count.”

Eadhild looked at him and shook her head in disgust, “Can you not control yourself?”

Beginning to regain his senses Swæfræd replied, “What am I to do when I have a wife the likes of which I have? I do what is required of me but that is not enough.”

Eadhild had wondered if the topic of Eadhburh would be brought up, “You do what all lords do. You fulfill your obligations. You have a mistress or two for your needs.”

Feeling he may have made a point Swæfræd asked, “Is that not what I have done? I have a daughter by her and another child on the way.”

Surprised by the announcement of Eadhburh being with child Eadhild asked, “She is with child?”

Swæfræd nodded, “She believes she is. It is early. Maybe too early to tell.”

Eadhild shook her head, “That does not change the fact of what you have done.”

Frustrated that he could change his mother’s attitude Swæfræd said, “You said that it is acceptable for me to have a mistress. How many did father have?”

The anger returned to Eadhild’s face, “You have no right to speak of your father and his mistresses. He was the king and as king he can do as he pleases. You are a lowly earl who is vassal to Duke Emrys of Deheubarth. You need to remember your station and what is acceptable.”

Now getting angry himself Swæfræd replied, “Oh please spare me mother. Everyone is having affairs. I know Hlothere is bedding at least one of his maid servants and has contacted the Lover’s pox from her. And tell me how did Sigfrið get the Great Pox?”

Eadhild was not here to debate her son. She was here to make a point, “It is not that you are having affairs it is who you are having those affairs with and when.”

Swæfræd truly did not understand, “What do you mean?”

Eadhild snapped back, “ I speak of Eadflæd, the widow of your brother Earl Æthelweald of Gloucester.”

Thinking he had done nothing wrong Swæfræd replied, “Many men take their brother’s widow and comfort her.”

Anger flashed. Eadhild said, “They take them as their wife. They don’t bed them and give them a baby like you did. Since she was born in March have seen Ecgfrid?”

Swæfræd replied, “I have acknowledged her as my child. That is enough.”

Eadhild shook her head. She wanted to slap him again. “How then do explain Ingrid of Chester, the mother of your half brother Hjalmar?”

Without any show of emotion Swæfræd replied, “I have always been infatuated with her for as long as I can remember. An opportunity arose and I took it.”

Eadhild asked, “And what of your child she now carries? Will you acknowledge or legitimize the baby when it is born?”

Without any hesitation Swæfræd replied, “Neither. She is the reason father did not legitimize me. Therefore her child will be a bastard and will have less privileges than me.”

Eadhild was torn on this matter. Swæfræd was correct it was Ingrid who prevented Eilif from legitimizing Swæfræd and Eilif risked Ingrid’s anger when he acknowledged Swæfræd. Ingrid had wanted the child to have nothing but Eilif could not do that. However, on the other hand it was Ingrid who protected Rædwald and Hlothere when Elisabeth plotted their deaths so that her Sigfrið could be crown prince.

After a few moments of thought Eadhild asked, “What of this Ingjerðr Hjalmarsdottir who also carries your child?”

In a very nonchalant manner Swæfræd answered, “Her father was Hjalmar Aimerysson who was Spymaster of Dunholm for Countess Sif until his death. Her mother, Esclarmunde de Scully and her remained in Dunholm until Prince Hjalmar usurped the county from Countess Elin. Her mother fled to her family Clermont in the County of Auvergne in the Kingdom of Aquitaine. Ingjerðr now an adult decided to take an offer from Chief Krzysztof of Dal. We met while she was waiting in York for a ship to Norge.”

Eadhild asked bluntly, “Will you abandon that child also?”

Swæfræd did not pause, “No, I will acknowledge that child.”

Eadhild was trying of this conversation, “You must be more careful in the future. The more bastards you have the more possible claims there will be against your lands or even your brother the king. If you are not careful one day you could be staring at a bastard child across a battlefield or the blade of an assassin in the dark sent by a father, husband, or brother. It even be that father, brother, or husband themselves who decide to defend the honor of their daughter, sister, or wife. It is one thing to have the king’s bastard in the family. It is another to have the bastard of an earl who is also a bastard himself. Do you understand?”

Swæfræd nodded. He was growing weary of the beating his emotions were taking. He just wanted this over, “Yes mother I do.”

Eadhild looked at him lovingly, “I came here because I am your mother. I do not want you hurt or thrown in a dungeon because of a foolish affair.”

Swæfræd nodded again, “Yes, mother.”

Eadhild looked around the room and said, “Now call one of your servants. I wish to rest before dinner.”

Swæfræd called for his servants. Guards and servants entered the chambers. Several lead Eadhild from the room.

A few moments later Geirr rentered the chambers. The Chancellor appeared to be unscathed by the dressing down he received from Eadhild as he escorted a young woman into the chamber As the women was lead by Geirr to Swæfræd, the earl found himself following her every movement. He was drawn to her, to her curves and young almost angelic face. So enthralled with her he barely heard Geirr introduce her.

“Earl Swæfræd this is Linda Falkisdottir, daughter of the late Bishop Falki of Ely and the former Countess Maria of Hereford.”

Linda curtsied to the earl. Swæfræd took her hand in his and bent over kissing the top of it. Looking directly into her eyes and with a huge smile he said, “Charmed.”

 

[tpmcinty]

28 December 1012 York

The roaring fire provided the only light in the room illuminating Rædwald and Crístina sitting on chairs facing the hearth. Nestled between their chairs was a small table atop of which a pitcher of wine rested. After days of Yuletide festivities that had drained them of their stamina they were finally alone. No more family or dignitaries to greet and entertain deep into the evening and night. The children had been bedded down until morning. Guests had either left for their homes or retired to their chambers leaving the keep in an eerie silence. The king’s chambers offered a long sought after solitude for the king and queen.

Crístina took a sip of some wine and broke the silence, “Your brother Swæfræd has had quite a year. How many children has he sired?”

Rædwald rolled his eyes as took a sip of wine. He did not want to speak of his brother, too many people were speaking of him already. His affairs and number of children were become the stuff of lore. A lore that Rædwald did not desire for the family. Knowing an answer was required he said, “Three, four, I lost count.”

Knowing Rædwald was annoyed over his brother’s exploits Crístina decided that some good natured teasing was needed. She lifted her closed hand and raised one finger as she said, “There was Hereswith with his wife Eadhburh.”

Catching a mistake right at the start Rædwald smiled, “Hereswith would not count. She was born in September of 1011.”

Having made the mistake on purpose just to engage her husband Crístina nodded, Yes you are correct. That would make Ecgfrid who was born in March to Eadflæd.” She looked at Rædwald questioningly, “Wasn’t Eadflæd your sister-in-law?”

With some sadness Rædwald nodded, “Yes she was married to my half brother Æthelweald, Earl of Gloucester.”

Crístina returned to the hand as she raised the second finger, “Bodil is the second. She was born in August to some women he had a short affair as she fled Durham. If I remember her name was Ingjerðr Hjalmarsdottir. Her and the baby reside in Dalaborg, in Dal.”

Rædwald nodded and took a long drink of wine dreading what was coming next.

Crístina raised finger number three, “Lady Ingrid of Chester gave him Brigitta in October. Is it incest to lay with the mother of your half brother and sister?”

Not knowing the answer and truly not wanting to know Rædwald shrugged his shoulders.

Satisfied Crístina put her hand down and said, “Going into next year we know his wife is with child and the baby will be born next month.”

Crístina sipped some wine, “There are rumors that he has had an affair with Linda Falkisdottir and that she is with child.”

Rædwald had heard this latest news and asked, “Who is this Linda Falkisdtti?”

Surprised her husband did not know Crístina smiled, “You do not know?”

A bewildered Rædwald shook his head no.

Feeling proud that she knew something her husband did not Crístina continued, “She is the daughter of Maria, the former Countess of Hereford and her first husband Falki who became Bishop of Ely.”

Rædwald almost spit the wine he had in is mouth out, “He does this to torture me.”

Crístina looked at the fire and said, “Of his bastards he has acknowledged Ecgfrida and Bodil. He has said nothing about Brigitta.”

Thinking she wanted him to either chastise his brother or force him to acknowledge Brigitta Rædwald looked at Crístina and said, “There is little I can do to make him own up to his deeds. I fear that sooner or later a husband, father, or brother will not be forgiving and he will learn a bitter if not fatal lesson.”

Thinking she better moved to more agreeable news Crístina took a sip of wine and said, “It is good to see that Sigfrið and Thordis had a baby last month. I think Mildirth is a good name. Given his condition with the Great Pox I am surprised that he was able to sire a child.”

Ecstatic for Sigfrið Rædwald nodded, “He now has an heir. I know that a great weight has been lifted from his mind.”

Turning somber Crístina finished her wine and placed the goblet on the table, “Have you heard any word from Hlothere and the condition of his newborn daughter, Agatha?”

Concerned for his brother Rædwald also finished his wine, “Other than she was born sickly and has not improved, no. Hlothere arrived this evening and I will ask him tomorrow.”

Pleased that he would ask Crístina smiled, “That will be good.”

Thinking there was some underlying reason for this discussion of births Rædwald looked suspiciously at Crístina, “What is all this talk of babies? Something I should know?”

Knowing she had him Crístina laughed. “No of course not. How could there be? You have been busy becoming a well known poet. I hear many of your poems are read and recited all over the kingdom. First a stargazer, now a poet. Where will your scholarly endeavors take you next?”

Somewhat embarrassed Rædwald asked, “Am I being accused of neglecting ing husbandry duties?”

Crístina rose from the chair and walked seductively over to Rædwald. She leaned over before him placing her hands on the arms of the chair, “Maybe we should put that to the test.”

Standing straight she turned and began slowly walking towards the bed chambers. About halfway there she let her dress drop to the floor. Rædwald watched her the entire way and once the dress landed on the floor he sprang up quickly following her to the bed chambers.

*****

The light of the new day woke Rædwald. Taking a great amount of care he gently and quietly slipped out of bed being careful not to awaken a sleeping Crístina. Looking at her amongst the sheets and furs Rædwald was tempted to forego the morning’s agenda but knew he could not. His brother was due to leave on the morning tide to return to Anglesey and his wife and sickly baby.

Rædwald dressed quickly and with little sound. He stepped into his sitting room and found that a servant had but a log or two in the hearth to bring the fire to life after almost extinguishing itself during the night. He also discovered hs morning meal was set out for him. The king ravishingly ate the stew and bread not realizing his hunger until he ate. It had been a taxing night he fondly remembered. He washed down the meal with some spiced warm ale. He stood up from the table and without any noise exited his chambers.

Pulling furs tighter around his body to ward off the chill that lingered in the stone corridors of the keep. Still struggling with the furs he arrived at the strategy room. As he expected he found his brother Hlothere waiting. One look at the prince and it could seen that he was prepared for a journey with his heavy coat and britches. His gloves hung around his neck from a chord.

What Rædwald had not anticipated was a second person being present, let alone that person being Mayor Strula, his Chancellor. Strula should have been in Ireland undertaking a mission for the crown, Unless. Rædwald noticed a scroll on the table near Strula. A grin bordering on evil came over the king’s face.

Rædwald exchanged greetings with Hlothere and Strula. Trying to conceal his anticipation Rædwald asked Strula, “Are you not supposed to be in Ireland?”

Strula was trying to hide his excitement, “I was there but events have progressed that my presence is required here.”

He reached for the scroll on the table and picked it up. With a huge smile he handed it to Rædwald.

Rædwald took the scroll and could no longer contain his elation, “Is this what I hope it is?”

Strula smiled like a child being praised by his parents, “It is. Your claim to Dublin.”

On the verge of dancing for joy Rædwald smiled, “You were able to do it.”

Brimming with pride Strula bragged, “Yes. It actually proved to be easier than we thought. Due to the very confused state the county is in it was easy to find a few individuals who the talents necessary for obtaining the appropriate documents for our cause.”

Holding the scroll like a prize and smiling Rædwald replied, “Good, very good.” He looked at Strula and patted him on the shoulder, “You have done very well Lord Chancellor. Very well indeed.”

Strula basked in the praise of his king. It was not often that a claim could be fabricated in such a short time. Strula was truly proud of himself for doing so. However, his self celebration was cut short.

Rædwald asked, “What is the news out of England these days?”

Strula looked at Hlothere. Unspoken the question of who was going to reply was past between the two Counselors. Hlothere nodded and indicated that Strula should begin.

Strula took a deep breath and began to speak, “It is very confused and chaotic. The loss of Oxford weighs heavy on the lords of the land and on King Ælfgar. The lords look to the king for strength but only find a drunken king most days incapable of rule. The king’s brother and heir, Ealdmund Osheresson tries to do what is necessary but the nobles and lords resist him. They are more concerned with their own duchies and counties. They line up against the king like carrion circling a dying animal.”

As Strula spoke Hlothere laid out a map of Jorvik and England.

Strula walked over to the map and continued, “our spymaster Duke Ealdmund reports he and his agents are having difficulties following the ever changing alliances of dukes and earls. The numerous wars are again draining the treasury and manpower. Levies are being reduced to almost nothing.”

“In desperation Ælfgar has reached out to other lands for allies. Thus far he has allied with King Diogo III of Galica. But that choice is proving to have many problems and has brought England into more wars.”

Rædwald who feared his alliance with France someday would bring Jorvik into an unwanted war said, “That is the problem with alliances and one of the reasons we have not allied with King Refr of Norge. I think that at last count he was involved in nine different wars.”

Strula was always impressed with how much knowledge Rædwald would come to a meeting with. The king was very diligent in being prepared for a meeting. If he asked a question it meant that he knew something on the subject and was interested in filling in the details. Rædwald knew England was in chaos but perhaps not to the extent it was. Telling the king about a topic he did not know about beforehand was rare, a rare treat in some cases.

Strula said, “King Diogo brought Ælfgar into the Galician Holy War for Aragon against the heathen Duke Alvar of Gascogne. The war started in 1004 and was at a standstill until two years ago. Since then it has been going downhill for Diogo.”

Hlothere shook his head. He had a severe dislike of the king of England stemming from the fact that was held prisoner by Ælfgar for almost the entire war with England. He had not been mistreated in any but hs pride had taken a serious blow at the hands of the English. “I cannot see what Diogo could gain with an alliance with a dunkard or how Ælfgar could find support for such a war when he has fights elsewhere.”

Rædwald chuckled. He knew Hlothere’s dislike of the English. At times he was concerned it may cloud Hlothere’s judgment when it came to evaluating the English.

The king said, “Diogo is dangerous. The pope has manipulated him into believing he is the Christian savior of Iberia. He thinks he is the one who will drive the Muslims out.”

Hlothere asked, “What of Aquitaine and France. They control Barcelona and Valencia? Why does the pope not use them?”

Sometimes Hlothere’s lack of understanding when came to affairs of kingdoms drove Rædwald mad, “Aquitaine and France do not listen to the pope. Thierry II of Aquitaine and Renaud of France are far more cold and calculating. They only pursue what will benefit them and if it happens to benefit the Holy See so be it. Renaud has his own pope, Innocentius II in Laon. Do think he is listening to the pope.”

Rædwald took a deep breath, “As to Ælfgar getting support. For this war he has it. He is a Christian king fighting the heathen in a war blessed by the Holy Father. No God fearing Christian lord of his realm is going to withhold support.”

Rædwald finished the next part with a evil like grin, “Of course the amount of support is up to the individual lord.”

Strula grinned at the last line of Rædwald’s statement. The Chancellor then said, “A embarrassing problem that Ælfgar has to deal with is his father. Prince Oshere who is barred from the English crown due to being a eunuch gathered a host for the purpose of making himself a king somewhere. To his sons’ horror he declared a Claim War for Galicia, pitting himself against his sons who are obligated to aid Diogo.”

Without thinking Hlothere blurted out, “Our family problems with Hjalmar and Swæfræd are small compared to Oshere and his sons.”

Rædwald shot a glance that was daggers at Hlothere. He had repeatedly stated that he did not want family matters discussed with others only when he deemed it necessary. Realizing his mistake Hlothere stepped back and hung his head.

Strula pretended he did not notice the unspoken exchange between the brothers. He knew of Rædwald’s feelings in these delicate family matters. Strula continued delivering his report. “Seeing the chaos and wanting to extract some revenge in July King Ewan III of Scotland declared a De Jure War for Clydesdale. Less than two weeks later Earl Eadwine of Cumberland declared claim war for Teviotdale.”

Strula looked at Rædwald and finished with, “In the span of a month Ælfgar found himself in four wars.”

Rædwald nodded and turned to Hlothere, “Tell our brother Sigfrið that he should make it five wars and declare for Wiltshire.”

Hlothere nodded even though he knew now he had to stop in Gloucester instead of sailing directly for Gwynedd. “I will stop in Gloucester and make a suggestion.”

Rædwald could sense his brother’s apprehension about the stop in Gloucester said, “Make it a strong suggestion, a very strong suggestion.”

Hlothere nodded.

Rædwald turned to Strula. He had a few things he wished to discuss with Hlothere alone. “If there is nothing else, Lord Chancellor, you may take your leave.”

Strula relieved his meeting would be over quickly, “No there is nothing else.”

Rædwald picked up the scroll and pointed to Strula with it and said, “Thank you very much for this.”

Filling again with pride Strula said, “You are welcome, milord.”

He bowed and turned around in one motion. He walked out of the room at a brisk pace.

Once Strula had left Rædwald looked at his brother. “Before you depart there is one more thing I ask of you.”

Slightly worried that he could miss his ship Hlothere asked, “What is that?”

Knowing that Hlothere feared missing the tide, Rædwald replied, “Have your assistants lay down additional provisions for the keep.”

His focus now changed Hlothere did not worry so much about missing the tide as to what concerned his brother that he made such a request, “Additional provisions? Is there something about to happen like a war?”

Rædwald smiled trying to calm his brother, “No just taking precautions.”

Unconvinced Hlothere asked, “Precautions for what?”

Trying to reign in his brother’s fear Rædwald said, “I spoke with the Court Physician, Aharon and he spoke of his concerns regarding the epidemics in France currently. There is smallpox in western France and Brittany and Slow fever in Flanders and Valios. They are fading but he is concerned that they could be brought to our lands. Also when they are wars there is always the risk of sickness. With all the wars of England their soldiers could bring something home with them that could spread to our lands.”

Rædwald continued, “I ordered Aharon to inspect the hospital and report anything he needs. Have someone work with him to get those supplies for him.”

Hlothere nodded.

Rædwald looked out the window to the winter sky, “I hope that we do not have shut the gates but I will do what is required to keep my family safe.”

Realizing he would not miss the tide and his boat Hlothere said, “I will see that all is done as you requested.”

Rædwald nodded, “Good.”

Hlothere was readying to leave but could see something still troubled his brother, “What concern do you still have brother?”

Rædwald seem to be at a loss for words which he was. He did not feel comfortable talking of sick children, “How does Agatha fare?”

Taking a deep breath to compose himself Hlothere said, “She was not well in the last letter I received.”

Wishing he had not brought up the subject Rædwald asked, “When was that?”

With sadness Hlothere replied, “About a week ago. The physicians say if she lives through the winter then she will be fine and should make it.”

Rædwald placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder, “I am sure she will make it. I will pray that she does.”

Hlothere faked a smile and said, “Thank you brother.”

Hlothere left the chamber. Before he was too far now the corridor Rædwald could hear him barking orders to one or more of his staff.

Alone in the room Rædwald removed the map of Jorvik and England, leaving the map of Ireland. His fingers traced a border of a county and he whispered to himself, “Dublin.”

 

[tpmcinty]

April 1013 York

In a foul mood Rædwald had been wandering the corridors for about an hour. Not sure how he had arrived there he found himself outside the chapel. In the gathering gloom of the approaching night the chapel was dark save for the candles that burned on the altar and in the several alcoves along the walls. At this hour in the middle of the week there would be no one in there. Rædwald could sit in peace and gather his thoughts.

Thinking perhaps God had directed him here Rædwald entered the chapel. He stopped at the rear row of pews and made the sign of the cross. He seated himself upon the pew and closed his eyes trying to meditate.

Abruptly the sound of someone rustling about brought Rædwald out of his meditation. He opened his eyes and allowed them to adjust to the gloom. Once they had done so he could see someone moving around the altar. Rædwald hoped the person would not notice him and that he could sneak out of the chapel without any fuss.

His hopes were dashed when he realized the person had seen him and was approaching. It was then that Rædwald recognized it was Bishop Wulfgar of Lichfield, the Court Chaplin.Rædwald now truly wondered if God had brought him here.

Wulfgar stopped at the pew before the row was sitting. Surprised to see the king in the middle of the week and at this hour Wulfgar had to stop and think for a moment. Once he overcame his astonishment he said, “Your Highness it so good to see you. What troubles brings yourself here at this hour?”

The king gestured for Wulfgar to sit. The Court Chaplin sat in the pew before Rædwald and turned to face the king.

Rædwald had not intended to speak to anyone but God had sent him his spiritual advisor. Knowing a sign when he saw it Rædwald replied, “Troubles of the heart.”

Trying to make the king at ease Wulfgar said, “For someone with the great responsibilities you carry, such troubles can come often because your heart is full of love and caring.”

Rædwald had not expected such words, “That maybe, bishop, but as king I do not have the time to dwell on such manners. Many lives and on too many occasions deaths are fated upon the choices I make.”

Sensing that whatever was troubling the king might be difficult for him to express Wulfgar said, “Heavy is the burden borne by the king particularly one such as yourself who cares about his people deeply and follows the will of God.”

Beginning to realize that he did need to speak with someone such as Wulfgar. A person who had no direct stake in the matters, and no family blood to interfere with his observations and conclusions. Rædwald said, “Why is my heart conflicted?”

Trying to draw him out Wulfgar asked, “what makes your heart conflicted. Tell me so I may comfort and guide you.”

Feeling the need to talk Rædwald said, “It is my half brother Swæfræd that conflicts my heart.”

Wulgar could understand how Swæfræd would conflict Rædwald. On one hand they are brothers but Swæfræd actions were reckless and sinful.

Rædwald continued, “My heart should be full of joy for him. His wife has borne him another daughter named Æthelswith at the beginning of the year.”

Wulfgar interjected, “A truly joyous event.”

Anger rose as Rædwald spoke, “I should be rejoicing at the birth but instead I find myself mulling over the knowledge that another of his lovers will give birth to yet another bastard. What also angers me is who the lover is.”

Wulfgar was having trouble grasping Swæfræd’s actions himself. This would make the fourth bastard sired by him in the last 18 months. Wulfgar asked, “Who is this lover?”

Knowing he was in a place of worship Rædwald tried desperately to control his anger and hate as he responded, “Linda Falkisdottir, the daughter of Maria the former Countess of Hereford who lead the revolt against us.”

Wulfgar was surprised by the lover. Was Swæfræd purposely selected lovers that would irritate and divide those around him? Wulfgar was at a loss for words and quickly prayed for guidance. His prayers were quickly answered as a thought entered his mind.

Wulfgar suggested, “Perhaps it is a test for you.”

Confused Rædwald responded, “A test?”

Trying to find the words to explain Wulfgar said, “Yes a test from God. A test to try your resolve and your determination to what is right and just.”

Rædwald had to take time to think. If this was a test he was not sure he wanted to partake in it. All paths seemed to lead to ruin. With doubts Rædwald asked, “And what if I fail or do not want to submit to this test?”

Wulfgar could feel the doubt and uncertainty in the king, “If you fail it will mean ruin for all. If you lash out at your brother it will destroy your family. It will pit them against one another and yourself. The kingdom will suffer greatly and our enemies will revel in our chaos.”

Rædwald took several measured breaths. He could see the wisdom in Wulfgar’s word even though he did not want to do so. A family torn apart and in strife could destroy the kingdom. The English were not the only enemy waiting for a chance to strike.

The king said, “At first I did not want to believe your words but I see the wisdom of Our Lord in them. For that I am thankful.”

Rædwald smiled and began to rise. To his surprise Wulfgar reached out and grabbed his wrist stopping him. Rædwald looked at Wulfgar.

Wulfgar knew he was taking a great risk in stopping the king but he felt it needed to be done. Wulfgar said, “Do not go yet, milord. You did not find your way here just because of the misdeeds of your brother. I sense there is a great sadness in you.”

Rædwald stopped and looked at the Court Chaplin. The anger that had come because he had dared to stop Rædwald gave way to grief and pain. Rædwald returned to his seat, his shoulders sagging and his head hung low.

Trying to comfort him Wulfgar asked, “What brings this sorrow?”

Rædwald took a deep breath, “I mourn for my sister Bodil?”

Shocked because he had not heard anything Wulfgar asked, “She has gone to Our Lord?”

Realizing his mistake in how he spoke Rædwald said, “I mourn for her loss. Her son Benoît was murdered in his sleep.”

Truly shocked at such a hideous deed Wulfgar asked, “What evil person would do such a thing?”

Getting a little angry Rædwald replied, “In the court of King Renaud of France there are many who place no value on life. They care not if it is the life of a family member or the life of a 3 year old child. To those people others are only pawns and means to obtain the power they lust after. Even the life of the great nephew of the king is just another means to an end.”

Wulfgar found his mouth hanging open. He could not fathom the callousness needed to treat a child’s life so casually. He offered, “I will pray for his soul and I will pray for Princess Bodil also that she may overcome such a loss.”

Rædwald was thankful and knew prayers were needed, “She truly needs our prayers. Not only has she lost a son she will be giving birth to another child before the summer draws to a close.”

Wulfgar now more than ever knew prayers were needed. A traumatic event such as the loss of a child could bring about the demise of the unborn baby Bodil carried. Wulfgar said, “I will pray for the unborn child and that he will be healthy.”

Rædwald began to rise. As Wulfgar looked up at him Rædwald patted the Court Chaplin on the wrist and said, “I thank you bishop. You have brought some peace into my troubled thoughts. I must truly go now. I need to try to get some rest for tomorrow is another day of endless burdens.”

Wulfgar nodded and watched the king leave the chapel. Wulfgar rose himself and walked toward the altar. He had some prayers to say.

*****

Journeying to his bed chambers his footsteps echoed throughout the empty corridors. Most of the keep had turned in for the night leaving only silence.

As he passed his study he thought he heard something. He stopped and listened. At first there was nothing then he heard the rustling of paper. Taking the lantern from it storage place he lit it but turned it down low to where it barely made any light.

Relying n his knowledge of the room and its furniture he maneuvered around the room in the nar darkness. Again he heard the paper rustling. He looked toward his desk. There he could see a candle burning and a person behind the desk with their back to him. He quickly closed the distance to the desk. When he was near the desk he turned up the lantern filling the room with illumination.

The person behind the desk who Rædwald could see was a girl child of about 8, jumped at the sudden brightness in the room. She quickly turned about letting the letter that she was looking at slide from her hands onto the desk near the remains of seal she obviously had broken. Neither knew who was more shocked, Rædwald the king or Wulfwaru his daughter at the scene that unfolded before each.

Anger building Rædwald reached around the desked and grabbed Wulfwaru who was so shocked that she had been discovered froze in place. Rædwald dragged her around to the front of the desk.

All the pent up anger of the last few months began to boil over. He screamed at her, “How many times have you been told not to look at or take letters and documents from my desk.”

Without waiting for an answer Rædwald slapped her across the face. The blow knocked her to the ground. She cried out in pain and held her hand across the red mark on her cheek. He cries filled the room.

Resembling an ogre Rædwald towered over her. She cowered in fear from him. He yelled at her again, “After tonight you will never look at my personal letters and documents.”

He reached down and took her by the wrists forcing her to stand. He then smacked her hard on her butt which brought more loud sobs.

At that moment Crístina appeared in the doorway. Fearing that things were about to go too far she screamed, “Rædwald!”

Rædwald stopped and turned around still holding Wulfwaru by the wrist. Seeing the look on Crístina’s face Rædwald did not spank her any further. He did fling the child at her mother. Wulfwaru laid in a heap before her mother. The queen bent down and helped her daughter stand. She then directed her toward the newly arrived nanny for Wulfwaru. She gave the nanny instructions to take Wulfwaru back to her daughter’s chambers. The nanny lead Wulfwaru down the corridor.

Full of anger and disgust Crístina glared at Rædwald and then stormed off down the corridor. She would check on Wulfwaru before she returned to bed. She left the king standing in the room breathing heavy like the minotaur of Greek legends.

 

[tpmcinty]

March 1014 York

King Rædwald was making his way down the corridor toward the Council Chambers his mind drifting to his sisters and their fortunes over the last half of a year. After suffering the heartbreak of losing her 3 year old son to a still unknown murderer his sister Bodil gave birth to a daughter named Elisabeth in August.

Elisabeth, odd thought Rædwald, Still I do not understand why she would name her daughter after her mother, Queen Elisabeth especially after the way Queen Elisabeth treated her. It was because of this mistreatment or lack of care, Elisabeth refused to even nurse Bodil, that Eilif sent the Queen to a convent in Dyfed. Perhaps the grief of losing her son had something to do with it.

His reflections now centered on another sister, Birgitta, daughter of Lady Ingrid of Chester. Just before Christmas she gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl. The boy was named Eustache and the girl Héloise. Rædwald pitied Birgitta; her husband Geoffroy de Tresmes had not seen his children and it may be a time before he could. He was the prisoner of High Chief Ensio of Satakunta a result of a dispute between King Josselin of Burgundy and the High Chief.

His thoughts were disturbed by the sounds of raised voices emanating from the Council Chambers. Rædwald recognized the voices as Duke Ealdmund of Powys, the Spymaster, and Duke Emrys of Deheubarth, the Marshal of Jorvik. Rædwald slowed his pace so he could hear the conversation.

The first voice he could understand was Ealdmund, “She is ruined. Who would want to marry her?”

Emrys seemed to be on the verge of laughing and replied, “You forget whose daughter she is. There would be few good candidates in the first place.”

Rædwald could sense the frustration in Ealdmund’s voice as he spoke, “That was true but he has ruined her and now even those candidates would not touch her.”

Emrys voiced also echoed frustration, “How is it my problem?”

Ealdmund fired back, “Earl Swæfræd of Gwent is your vassal. He answer to you.”

Emrys almost burst out laughing, “I cannot control the urges of a young man or his desire to be stupid. If that was the case than you should have controlled Linda Falkisdotttir of the Duchy of Powys.”

Sensing the conversation was beginning to go down hill decided it was time to put in an appearance and entered the chamber. In the scene that greeted him Emrys was on one side of map table leaning on it with both fists. Ealdmund was on the other side of the table doing the same. Strula stood at the end of the table with a worried look and Wulfgar appeared to trying to hide in the corner. Rædwald scanned the room for Hlothere and found him leaning against the wall shaking his head, smirking.

Hlothere saw Rædwald and the smirk turned into a smile. He shrugged his shoulders.

Rædwald smiled back and said, “I believe the child of their illicit union was a boy.”

The king’s sudden appearance and voice started Emrys and Ealdmund. Emrys whose back was to the king stood up straight and turned around and bowed. Ealdmund rose from his leaning position to stand tall and then followed Emry’s lead and bowed. The others in the room bowed also.

Worrying about what the king had heard and what he thought Ealdmund replied, “Yes, Your Highness, it was a boy. His name is Hrane.”

Walking closer to the table he looked at Hlothere who now also approached the table. Rædwald asked, “brother did Swæfræd acknowledge the boy?”

Hlothere smiling and thinking he knew what Rædwald was doing, “Yes he did.”

Enjoying himself Rædwald now turned his attention to Strula. “My good Chancellor as an acknowledged bastard and particularly being a boy Hrane has value in a future marriage.”

Strula sure he knew what Rædwald wanted responded, “Yes, milord. He does.”

Rædwald smiled and said, “More than the daughter of a traitor.”

Strula now how figured what Rædwald was doing, “Far more.”

Rædwald nodded to Strula and said, “Thank you.”

Turning to Ealdmund and smiling Rædwald said, “You now a more valuable courtier when it comes to marriage than you had before.”

Ealdmund nodded but felt cheated, “I understand. Milord.”

Now tired of dealing with his brother affairs and those who concerned themselves with those affairs Rædwald said in very stern voice, “Good, now I do not want to hear anything further on this matter.”

Both Ealdmund and Emrys nodded.

Rædwald relaxed, “Now let us get on with the business before the Council which is Dublin”

Rædwald turned and looked at Emrys, “When will the levies be ready.”

Emrys was not enthusiastic over this war but he was loyal. Being loyal he had resolved that he would do his duty and make sure Rædwald would obtain his victory. He replied, “Milord, we have replenished the manpower but there is still much training to be done. As you know the number of men is not enough. They must be trained.”

Learning the levies would not be ready now as he had expected a disappointed Rædwald asked, “When will they be ready?”

Knowing he was walking a thin line Emrys replied, This winter or in the spring.”

Seeing the disappointment and frustration on the king’s face Emrys knew he had to explain. “This war will not be like others we have fought. Yes, we will attack Dublin and crush any armies than land to defend it. We will occupy the county. However, we will not win this war until be defeat all of the forces of Svea Rike. For that our armies will have to cross the North Sea and traverse the Kattegat for our enemies lands reside along the Sea of Aland and the Gulf of Bothnia.”

He pointed to the places he mentioned on the map of Europe that was spread out on the table.

Proud of his Norse heritage Strula spoke, “We once raided far off places such as Constantinople, Alexandria, and Africa.”

Emrys had thought someone might allude to the raiders of old. He looked at Strula who in Emrys opinion was lacking at times in common sense and said, “We have not conducted a raid since the time of King Knut and the early days of the reign of King Sigfrið. That was some fifty or sixty years ago. There no greybeards or shieldmaidens left who sailed on the raids.”

Emrys then looked around the room at each one gathered around the table and continued, “This will not be similar to a raid. A raid is maybe a thousand men. This will be an invasion consisting of eight, nine, or even ten thousand soldiers. We may be campaigning in a far off land for a year or two. The winters will be far more harsh than what we are used to here.”

Hlothere stepped up to the table. He like Emrys was not a supporter of this war at this time. However, other than try to make his brother see reason he would public support him and do all that is in his power to win the war. Hlothere said, “So far from home supplies will be difficult. We will have to ship what our soldiers need from here or have our armies buy supplies locally. Lastly in all else fails pillage and plunder for supplies. Additionally the treasury has not fully recovered from the English war. Without gold it will be difficult to supply the troops. We need friends and allies.”

Strula now felt it was his chance to redeem his wounded pride over the raiders, “There is Norge.”

Rædwald shook his head, “King Refr is not a good choice at this time. There are too many entanglements with him at the present. An alliance with him could costs us far more than we are willing to give.”

Wulfgar suddenly spoke up, “What of Burgundy and King Josselin. He has lands that border Svea Rike?”

Hlothere looked at Wulfgar and replied, “A good suggestion but we do not have a marriage or betrothal with King Josselin that would open the door to an alliance.”

Wulfgar then asked, “France?”

Hlothere was puzzled about the Court Chaplin’s interest in this war. He usually remained silent when wars were discussed. Then it occurred to Hlothere. Converts. Wulgar saw the possibility of new converts. The people of Svea Rike still worshiped the old Norse gods.

After thinking Strula answered, “I am not sure if France will join. The war will be far from their lands.”

Rædwald was getting more and more discouraged, We then will have to rely on our Irish allies.”

Emrys knew had more unfavorable news and thanked God that Rædwald would listen to reason, “That may not be enough. Earl Cathal of Tír Eoghain, and Chief Garalt II of Ulaidh will join with no issues. Their armies are small and will not contribute much. Our Queen Crístina as Queen of Mide is now fighting along King Ewan III of Scotland against KIng Ælfgar of England. Lastly King Rogallach of Connachta will join. His army is the largest in Ireland numbering over two thousand. All toll the Irish may contribute about thirty-five hundred troops. Not enough to truly help us.”

Rædwald closed his eyes in disappointment. Dublin would have to wait six months or a year.

Trying to save some face after what happened before the meeting Ealdmund spoke bringing Rædwald out of his thoughts, “An Irish knight named Fer-Fugaill of Chichester has declared the 2nd Liberation of Ireland War against King Ælfgar of England. Perhaps this will aid Scotland and Cumberland in their wars with England by draining troops from facing them.”

Rædwald mood did change some and Hlothere saw it. Hlothere thought to add to the change by saying, “In the next month Earl Sigfrið of Gloucester plans to launch the Gloucesterian Claim War for Wiltshire against King Ælfgar. Perhaps this serve as a further distraction for the English.”

Strula who had been thinking for a time asked, “What if we obtained another ally here in the Isles?”

Hlothere was intrigued as was everyone else, “Of whom do you speak?”

Knowing he was about to be questioned to the point of ridicule stated, “Scotland.”

Emrys feeling that Strula was proving his point regarding the mayor’s wisdom leaned on the table and replied, “Scotland! We cannot. They are fighting England and anyone fighting the English deserve our support.”

Knowing he was going to have to defend himself Strula took a deep breath and answered, “If these other wars cause enough of a distraction that causes England to lose the war, then what?”

Rædwald and Hlothere looked at one another. Both were thinking that there may be some merit to the idea.

Rædwald smiled and said, “We will think on your idea Strula and discuss it more deeply at the fall Council meeting.”

Strula feeling good about himself nodded. Emrys looked at the Chancellor through silts but he even had to admit there may be something with such a plan.

Moving onto the next subject Rædwald turned to Ealdmund and asked, “What tales do we have of the factions within the kingdom?”

Ealdmund now felt the attention of the king upon him and replied, “We have one less with the death of Duke Siweard of Mann. His young son Hlothere rules under a regency.”

Strula spoke, “The boy is 11 so he will be under a regency for at least 5 years.”

For Rædwald that meant no trouble from the Duchy of Mann for at 5 years. The king looked at his Spymaster to continue.

Satisfied that no one else was going to interject Ealdmund continued, “Earl Sumarliði of Hereford still think he should be king and the kingdom should return to Gavelkind Succession.”

Looking around the room Rædwald asked,”Does he have any supporters?”

Ealdmund smirked, “No he is alone.”

Rædwald nodded but noticed his brother appeared to want to say something. “Lord Steward do have something to add?”

Knowing his brother could be a little sensitive when came to talking of family members to people outside of the family stressed whether he should speak. After a moment he determined what he had to say was too important and said, “Since the death of the traitor Anlaufr, the former Duke of Powys in the dungeons back in June 1012 Sumarliði has been vying for leadership of the Norse population of the kingdom. After the lies of Anlaufr and Maria, much to the disappointment of Sumarliði he has found that the Norse are loyal to the king.”

“Recently a challenger has emerged to his leadership. Duke Hjalmar of Northumbria is trying to present himself as the leader of the Norse.”

Several in the room noted that Hlothere did not call Hjalmar Prince. The slight was done to show that Hjalmar no longer held favor with the king.

Rædwald turned and looked at Hlothere. Hlothere swallowed waiting for the storm. Instead the king smiled and Hlothere let the breath out he did not know he was holding.

Rædwald said, “Thank you, brother.” He then turned to Ealdmund and said, “Increase your vigilance of Hjalmar. We must know what his intentions are.”

Ealdmund nodded, “Yes, milord. It shall be done.”

Rædwald looked around the room and eyes fell on Wulgar. The king asked, “Bishop Wulfgar any word from Rome since the death of Pope Callistus III?”

Wulfgar replied, “No, milord, nothing since the installation of Pope Lucius II in January.” The lack of communications from the Holy See worried Wulfgar. This could mean that Lucius did not have the full support of the cardinals and could mean trouble down the road.

Rædwald did not have much respect for the last couple of popes. He felt they concerned themselves too much with their earthly desires than looking over their flock. Expressing his feelings Rædwald said, “I truly do not look forward to a visit from the Pope’s Chancellor. It is like having a beggar approach you and ask for money while at the same time he insults and degrades you.”

After a few awkward moments of silence Rædwald looked around the room. Seeing no others had any business Rædwald spread his arms and said, “I thank all of you for attending. We will meet again in the fall to further discuss Dublin and any other issues that may come about by then.”

With that the meeting was closed. Strula and Wulfgar left quickly. Ealdmund lingered for a moment looking over the maps on the table.

Emrys stepped outside of the room and was met by a messenger who handed the duke a note. The duke read the note and as he did so the color drained from his face. He thanked the messenger and then turned and walked slowly back into the chambers. Hlothere and Rædwald noticed what had transpired and waited for the duke to arrive. Ealdmund also saw what had happened and joined the king and his brother.

Once an obviously distraught Emrys arrived Rædwald asked, “What troubles has that note brought?”

Emrys looked at the king and replied, “Camp fever has overtaken Glamorgan and spread to Dyfed. Many are sick and there are large numbers of dead. There are reports of possible cases in Gloucester and Somerset.”

Rædwald and Hlothere looked at one another and both thought Aharon may have been right. He just had the wrong epidemic.

 

[tpmcinty]

Chapter 7.11

July 1014 York

Standing at the open windows of his chambers Rædwald read the letter again, hoping against hope that the words would somehow change, but they did not. The refreshing spring breeze nearly blew the letter out his hand. He gripped it tighter and turned away from the window. He walked into the center of the room and gazed about. Some coals still glowed in the hearth leftover from the fire the night before. One of his servants had left a pitcher of wine and some bread on the table between the two high back chairs that dominated the center of the room.

Longing to rest his suddenly weary body Rædwald moved toward the chair he normally sat upon. Nearly there when the door to the chamber flew open and Crístina hurriedly entered the room. Despite his melancholy he was able to smile at his wife. It was not a fake smile but a smile founded in love and togetherness they had long enjoyed. His outburst a few months ago at Wulfwaru had strained their relationship but they had since reconciled.

Rædwald slowed and Crístina hugged him as she reached him. Rædwald returned her hug at first not realizing how much he needed it. Holding her close began to ease his mood somewhat. She broke the hug and stepped back sliding her hands into his hands. As she guided him to his chair she said, “Your secretary informed me that you had received a distressful letter. I came to comfort you.”

She knelt before him still holding his hands. It was then that Rædwald knew he dropped the letter. Spying it on the floor he thought about rising and retrieving it but then recognized that he needed to speak of its contents. Choking back tears he said, “My brother Prince Sigfrið, Earl of Gloucester is dead.”

With that he pulled his hands away from his wife and buried his head in them sobbing. Crístina rose and walked to his side. She put one arm about his shoulders and neck and pulled him close to her. Rædwald lifted his head from his hands and as her buried it in her belly he wrapped his arms about her waist. Crístina patted him on the back and said, “We all knew some day the Great Pox would take him.”

Rædwald pulled his head away from her body and looked up at her. She could she the marks left by tears running through his beard. He shook his head and said, “It was not the Great Pox. No it was Camp Fever.”

Caught off guard some Crístina asked, “His wife, Thordis, was with child. Has the babe been born?”

Regaining some of his composure Rædwald pulled out of Crístina’s grasp and sat back in the chair. Crístina stepped away from the chair as Rædwald responded, “No the baby should be born next month.”

Crístina sat in the other chair and said, “Then his barely two year old daughter Mildrith is now Countess of Gloucester.”

Feeling sorry for the girl Rædwald nodded, “She and her regent s will have a tough time. Not only does she inherit a county suffering from the epidemic of Camp Fever she inherits a war with King Ælfgar of England over her father’s claim to Wiltshire that Sigrið started in April.”

Sadness came over Crístina like a very heavy weight. Almost fearing the answer she asked, “Is the epidemic that dreadful?”

Knowing there was no way to soften the response Rædwald replied, “From the reports I have been given the illness is rampant in the counties where it has appeared. It takes both poor and rich, peasant and noble with no thought to status. It has spread like wildfire. From Glamorgan and Dyfed it has infested Gloucester, Gwynedd, and Somerset in England. Before long all of Wales, western England, and most likely Cornwall will be teeming with victims of the illness. Hlothere departed here and returned to Anglesey and is now in seclusion with his family and his court fearful of stepping outside the keep and risk infection.”

As she listened to her husband Crístina felt sad and sick. She could not remove the image of the dead and dying that Rædwald’s words had conjured in her mind. “We should pray for God’s help and the Church’s help.”

Rædwald laughed. Lately he held little faith in the Church and its hierarchy. “The Church cannot guide itself lately. It will be of little help. Many are concerned over the death of Pope Lucius II only four months after being installed as Pope. Many believe the new pope Honorius II had a hand in the death. Few believe that Lucius died from an apoplexy from the stress of being the Holy Father as the supporters of Honorius claim.”

Crístina looked at her husband.To her it seem that the lines in face had grown deeper the past few months. She felt that he was taking on too many burdens and at times affected his decisions. With Hlothere in Gwynedd Rædwald had lost his confidant and closest advisor and she knew that without someone to talk with the stress was getting to him. She knew that she needed to become his new confidant and that in order to do so she needed to draw him out.

To start she asked, “What are your intentions with Sumarliði?”

Rædwald had not expected this question, “What of Sumarliði?”

Trying to sound trusting Crístina replied, “He mocks you.”

Amused Rædwald said, “How does he mock me?”

Hoping her husband was toying with her she replied, “You appoint him to command your armies and he rewards your trust with forming factions against you.”

Rædwald knew what Crístina was attempting to do and he truly appreciated it. He now realized that with Hlothere absent he did need someone else to confide in.

He replied, “I appoint him because he is a good commander. When raiders from Hälsingland landed in Gloucester. Sumarliði defeated them and chased them from our lands.

His factions are harmless. The Sumarliði for Jorvik faction is a faction of one, himself. As is the Gavelkind Succession faction. I suspect his wife is more likely the one behind the factions.”

Not truly knowing all about the politics of the kingdom learning this information made Crístina less apprehensive.

Rædwald at that moment felt blessed. He had heard stories of how his grandfather King Sigfrið and grandmother Queen Emma had truly loved one another, of how she became his greatest advisor, and how they protected one another. Perhaps this the first step toward that kind of love and marriage.

Rædwald said, “You do not understand how much it warms my heart to know that you care and worry about me.”

Crístina smiled deeply, “And you gladden my heart by letting me show you how much I care.”

Rædwald was enjoying the moment but he did notice that Crístina still appeared to be internally struggling with something.

“What still troubles you, my wife?” he asked.

Crístina knew the subject she wished to discuss was sensitive to Rædwald. It was something lately he did not want to have a conservation about.

She hesitated and then began, “It is a matter that I know concerns and hurts you deeply and I am reluctant to speak of it.”

Rædwald laughed, “There is only one topic for which you speak and that would be my brother Swæfræd and his newest bastard with Eadflæd.”

Feeling more relaxed now that Rædwald had begun the conversation she responded, “Yes it about him and his baby girl they named Æthelhid. His continued affair with Eadflæd is not tasteful and even less tasteful is he did not acknowledge the baby as his.”

Rædwald nodded. He had become indifferent to his brothers constant affairs and bastards they produced. He said, “If you are hoping I know what to do about him and his affairs I am at a loss. All that we have tried in the past has not curtailed him. I truly doubt anything will bring him under control.”

Crístina shook her head and said, “I fear they will be the death of him.”

Rædwald nodded and replied, “So do I, so do I.”

*****

Bambrugh, County of Northumbria

The wind out of the north had a dark feel about it as it blew past Prince Hjalmar standig on the ramparts of his keep overlooking the sea, waiting. He did not wait long before his Court Physician, Alfr joined him.

Hjalmar looked at Alfr and asked, “Well?”

Alfr looked out to the sea and replied, “It is as I feared, milord. The illness is consumption. There are many cases here in the city and throughout the county. Many have died and many more will. We are hearing of cases in County Durham.”

Hjalmar then looked out to the sea and said, God, help us.”

 

[tpmcinty]

November 1014 York

Laying in his bed Rædwald opened his eyes and glimpsed upon the face of his queen sitting on his left side. Smiling she held his hands to her cheek. In her smile he found warmth and comfort. As the effects wore off from the drugged wine he had been given, he began to feel pain in his upper right arm from the procedure.

Turning to his right and through foggy vision he saw the Court Physician, Aharon of Mistretta cleaning and placing the tools of his trade into his satchel. Seeing that the king was looking at him Aharon smiled and said, “the bleeding went well, Your Highness. Your humors should be balanced in a day or so. For now you need to rest and eat.”

A cough wracked the king and he shot an angry glare at Aharon. Rædwald was never a believer in bleeding and resisted all suggestions and attempts to him to agree to the treatment. After the constant pressure applied by Crístina, Wulfgar, and Aharon he reluctantly agreed to the procedure. Fears that he had made a mistake increased with every cough.

Aharon knew he had to quickly reassure the king or his status and reputation would be diminished. Aharon said, “The cough is normal. The treatment takes time to run its course. In a few days you will see the cough will lessen.”

Not at all convinced Rædwald tried to relax. He clasped his hands on his stomach and Crístina quickly placed her hands over his and said, “See, my husband you will be well in a few days.”

As his doubts continued to mount Rædwald looked back at Aharon and asked, “You are sure your diagnosis was correct?”

The king’s question annoyed Aharon who believed he was above reproach when it came to his craft. It was he who had the training and the knowledge. To him other physicians were only pretenders. If other physicians were not his equal on what account did Rædwald have to challenge his diagnosis? He responded defiantly, “Yes, Your Grace. You contracted Food Poisoning. Either you ate something bad in Scone at the wedding feast for your cousin Guðrun and King Ewan III of Scotland or on the voyage home. When you left York there were no cases of consumption and there were no illness in Scone. Therefore there can be no other diagnosis.”

Rædwald was sure there was more to be said. He could tell in the way Aharon spoke and that he had said there was no sickness in York when he had left for Scotland. Why say that unless something had changed. Annoyed he would have to pry for information Rædwald said, “You say there was no sickness in York prior to our voyage to Scotland. Is there sickness here now?”

Aharon looked at Crístina and she at him. Neither wanted to upset him but in their silence only inflamed him more. Sensing something was amiss Rædwald ordered sternly, “Tell me!”

Knowing her husband Crístina concluded that she must say something. She knew he would find out in the end and hold it against them for not being honest with him. Taking a deep breath she responded, “Consumption is here in York and the surrounding county.”

Fearing such news Rædwald closed his eyes and as he took a deep breath he opened them and asked, “Where else?”

Crístina hesitated and then began, “Besides being confirmed here in York and Northumbria and Durham there are definite cases in Cumberland, Westmorland, Amounderness, Lindsey, and Derby. There have been some reported illness in Chester, Leicester, and Dunbar in English Lothian.”

Epidemics Rædwald feared them greatly. While there had not been a major epidemic in Jorvik in several generations Rædwald knew of their devastation from tales from France and East Francia. The last thing he wanted was to see such suffering happen in his kingdom. With great reluctance he asked, “What of the camp fever?”

Crístina lost some of her liveliness and confidence. She truly did not wish to discuss the sickness that had taken such a heavy toll already. The loss of Prince Sigfrið still weighed heavily on both Rædwald and her. Working up he best diplomatic voice she replied, “It too spreads.”

Rædwald closed his eyes and Crístina hoped he would drift off, but to her dismay he opened them. He then said, “I know it was entrenched in Glamorgan, Dyfed, Gloucester, Gwynedd, and Somerset in England. Where else has the suffering spread to?”

It was Aharon who responded, “It has spread to Hereford, Powys, Worcester, Shropshire, Perfeddwlad, and Gwent. In England Dorset, and Wiltshire. All of the Petty Kingdom of Cornwall is inflicted.”

Rædwald again closed his eyes. Crístina at first thought he was in pain and was about to call to Aharon but then realized that he was agonizing over the news.

Seeing the king was not in pain and no longer needed him Aharon closed his stachel. He bowed and left the chambers.

Rædwald opened his eyes and sighed loudly. In a melancholy tone he spoke, “Poor Worcester. It was not so long ago we visited there to witness and partake in how well the county was prospering.”

Crístina squeezed his hands a couple of times and he relaxed and closed his eyes. Trying to think of something good to discuss Crístina said, “Sigfrið’s son Wulfstan is doing well.”

As soon as the words left her lips she thought it may have been a mistake mentioning the birth of Sigfrið’s son while Rædwald still grieved. Looking at his eyes moistening she knew it has been. Rædwald confirmed it by saying, “It is sad that he was born after his father’s death. I must do something for him when he is older…” He looked at Crístina an smiled, “... You will remind me.”

She smiled and squeezed his hands as he closed his eyes, “I will.”

With a smile on his face Rædwald drifted off to sleep.

*****

Showing little effects of the food poisoning and treatment over the last month Rædwald stood in the strategy room leaning on the map table. Over the course of the last week a slight cough had begun. At first Rædwald ignored it but it had become more frequent the past few days. He finally mentioned it to Aharon who felt it was nothing to worry about but if continued another bleeding session may be needed. Still not totally convinced that bleeding worked Rædwald was hesitant to agree. He did have to admit after the bleeding he had been feeling better which is the only reason he even considered the possibility of another treatment.

Rædwald looked at the Court Chaplin Bishop Wulfgar the only member of the King’s Counsel still residing in York. Over the last month and even before then, the other Counselors had left York for their own duchies or cities. They all had secluded themselves within their keeps or strongholds hoping to ride out the sicknesses in isolation. Rædwald has contemplated closing the gates of the keep but as he watched events in the lands where leaders had done so the reaction of those left outside of the lord’s sanctuary were worrying. In a few places uprisings seemed to be smoldering.

Rædwald regarded his Council and realized how much he missed the other members of the Council at this particularly his brother Hlothere. Wulfgar may have been the Court Chaplin and a bishop but his personal life was anything but holy. Rumors abounded of secret lovers and lies to cover up his illicit affairs. While Rædwald had seen Wulfgar take his spiritual and religious duties serious in public his behind closed doors behavior concerned Rædwald lately.

It was now that the king required good solid advice. There still were communications with the sequestered Councilors but it was a long and tedious processes. Couriers had to be found that would travel through the sickened lands and carry correspondence back and forth between the king and Counselors or from Counselor to Counselor. Sometimes the courier never reached his destination. Some contracted one of the epidemics or fell victim to foul play. As the sicknesses ravaged the lands in some places law and order broke down. The County of Chester had been hit very hard by the camp fever and if rumors were to be believed consumption, many towns and villages were empty or mere shadows of their former selves. Bandits and people just trying to survive prowled the roads and paths looking for food and/or plunder and without watches the travelways had become precarious. Only heavily armed groups could move through the county with impunity. As a consequence Mayor Strula of Macclesfield, the Chancellor, had not been heard from in some time.

Wulfgar looked at the king. Fearing for the king, the Court Chaplin was desperate and was pleading. “Your grace, You are still recovering from the bought of food poisoning. You still need time to regain your strength. Is traveling to Ros Comáin so important to risk your health? I must agree with the queen and court physician in this matter.”

Standing straight Rædwald looked at the court chaplin, “We were invited to attend the coronation. Not going would be taken as an insult.”

Wulfgar knew that respect and honor were important to Rædwald but the bishop did not want his sovereign dying attending what he considered an inferior kingdom, “Were you not suzerain to King Rogallach before his death and now are you not suzerain of the newly elected King Natfraich?”

Not sure where Wulfgar was taking the conversation Rædwald said, “The Kingdom of Connachta is tributary to us. You know that so what is your point?”

Wulfgar knew he had to play to the king’s ego, “As a tributary should they not come to you? If you go to them does that not make you appear weaker, as if you are answering to their call when it should be the other way around?”

Wulfgar had given Rædwald something to think on but the king still had doubts. Rædwald said, “What of respect? Natfraich is a king and should be treated accordingly.”

Wulfgar knew he was winning, “He is a king true, but is the King of Connachta equal of the KIng of Jorvik? Can he demand the respect and adulations that you can?”

Rædwald laughed, “When you say it in those terms I see your point. That still does not resolve the issue of the invitation. Who shall I send in my stead? Those who sit on Council are now behind the walls of their keeps.”

Proud of himself Wulfgar for making the king agree with him the bishop suggested, “ Perhaps Duchess Ealhswith of East Anglia? Her lands are unscathed by the sicknesses and she a pretty young lady.”

Knowing of Wulfgar’s vice Rædwald found himself laughing again, “You would be one to notice how pretty she was.”

Without warning the king’s laughter deformed into a cough. The cough became deep and violent. The king’s face began to turn red and his eyes seemed to bulge from their sockets. In a matter of moments the king doubled over and fell to one knee. Wulfgar rushed to him. The bishop managed to grab him before the king fell fully to the ground. The coughing subsided and the king wiped his mouth with his sleeve. To both Rædwald and Wulfgar’s dismay there was now blood on his sleeve.

Rædwald just stared at the blood and did not move. He suddenly felt too weak to move. Wulfgar helped the king to stand and in doing so noticed Rædwald sweating. Slowly Wulfgar guided the king to one of the chairs surrounding the table. Rædwald sat heavily into the chair.

They made it just in time another coughing spell wracked Rædwald. Once it was finished there was more blood on the sleeve. Wulfgar was becoming frantic. He called for the guards. A guard entered and bowed.

Doing a poor job of trying not to panic Wulfgar ordered, “Go find the physician.”

The guard looked at the king and froze. Wulfgar raised his voice, “The king is in need of the Court Physician. Go and find him now!”

The guard snapped out of his stupor and ran from the room.

Rædwald could not hold his head up and slumped in the chair. In a weak voice he said, “I am cold, so cold.”

Wulfgar swallowed hard. The hearth in the room was full burning and pumping out heat. The room was comfortable on the border of being too warm. Wulfgar felt the king and he felt feverish. The bishop found a fur laying on another table and threw it over the now shivering king.

Wulfgar was on the verge of hysteria. Cough with blood, fever, and chills. This does not bode well.

 

[tpmcinty]

December 1014 York

The last few days had been a living hell for Crístina watching her husband laying in his bed suffering. Every bout of coughing sapped more and more of his strength. His level of discomfort ranged from one extreme to another, one moment shivering, the next burning up. For the moment he slept soundly. A potion given to him by Aharon was providing relief at the expense of his consciousness.

Only Crístina, Aharon, and a few select servants were permitted in the king’s chambers with him. Guards stood vigilant outside the doors to prevent any unwanted persons from entering. All were being told that the king suffered from the flu but with illness running rampant through the streets of York many made their own assumptions.

Rædwald’s children were being kept far from him. No chances were being taken with the future of the crown. Seven year old Eadweard, the Crown Prince was basically under house arrest. Keeping him from contracting the king’s illness was not the only concern. With the uncertainty of the king’s recovery there was the distressing possibility that Eadweard would be the subject of some unsavory plot.

Such were the troubles of the Queen of Jorvik and Mide as she sat next to her husband’s bed holding his hand. Before her stood Aharon.

The Court Physician looked down at the queen and said, “It is consumption, milady.”

Choking back tears the distraught queen asked, “Are you sure?”

Not liking his opinion being challenged Aharon answered quickly, “I have confirmed it beyond any doubt the king suffers from consumption.”

Desperate and feeling the need to lash out Crístina said, “You were sure it was food poisoning and that bleeding would cure him. Now you say it is consumption. Which is it?”

Trying to maintain his outward appearance of calm Aharon inwardly seethed at the queen’s accusations of him misdiagnosing Rædwald. “Both, milady.”

Crístina was beginning to think that Aharon had no clue of what he was doing. She raised her eyebrows as she said, “Both?”

Requiring even more energy to control himself Aharon responded, “Yes, milady. The king contracted food poisoning from the trip to Scotland and he was cured. However during his recovery time he was exposed to consumption and just recently being sick he was very susceptible to becoming afflicted with consumption.”

Aharon breathed a sigh of relief seeing that the queen appeared to accept his explanation. She looked at the sleeping Rædwald who at that moment coughed several times. She squeezed his hand with both of her hands and said, “What can be done?”

Returning to air of superiority Aharon replied, “He is beyond the point where further bleeding can help. I have, however, heard of a treatment that has been known to help. I myself have not used it but I am sure I can master it.”

Crístina nodded, “Master it quickly, physician.I fear it may be needed soon.” She leaned over and placed her cheek against her hands that held his hands.

Wordlesly Aharon nodded and exited the room. He had much to learn and master in a short time.

*****

Rædwald was having doubts once again as he laid on the cold stone table that Aharon used as a treatment platform. Despite the potion that Aharon’s assistant had given him a cough found its way into the king’s chest and throat. Laying in bed unable to anything except cough hsi life away the last couple of weeks had convinced the king that something had to be done.

When Aharon first proposed the treatment Rædwald was firmly against it. As he weaken so did his reluctance to the treatment. Rædwald knew much more was at stake than just his life. Eadweard was too young to rule on his own and the kingdom could not suffer a regency at this time. Rædwald knew there were few, Hlothere, Emrys, and Ealdmund, he could trust to watch over and protect the young prince. Others, Hjalmar, Sumarliði, and Åke would plot for their own gains at the expense of the young prince and the kingdom. Foes from outside the kingdom would line up against him.

In the end Rædwald knew he had to try everything and anything to survive. He listened to the choices Aharon presented, to their benefits and their risks. With desperation setting in Rædwald chose the treatment that promised the quickest and fullest cure but it came with the greatest risks. Now the King of Jorvik lay on a cold slab waiting at the hands of the Court Physician.

Aharon entered the room carrying several vessels and instruments. He began laying out the instruments on a wood table. He opened several of the vessels and scooped out some of the paste from each and placed the globs in predetermined piles.

One of his assistants approached him. Aharon stopped working with the pastes and turned to the assistant, “Did you mix the potion as I instructed?”

The assistant nodded, “Yes, lord physician, I followed your instructions to the letter.”

Aharon normally would prepare every aspect of a treatment but given the amount of preparation required for this treatment Aharon had his most trusted assistant prepare the potion necessary so Rædwald would not feel any part of the treatment. The assistant had aided him many times before in the preparation of the potion so Aharon did not worry. However he never missed an opportunity to exhibit his superiority, “I pray that you did, otherwise the consequences could be dire.”

The assistant swallowed hard going over the steps in his head and reassuring himself that he followed them. Before he could finish Aharon spoke again, “You have administered it to the king?”

The assistant nodded, “Yes, lord physician a half and an hour ago.”

Aharon returned to his instruments and pastes and ordered, “Check to see that it has taken effect.”

The assistant nodded and walked over to the slumbering king. He grasped the king’s arm and lifted it. In his other hand he held a needle. He took the needle and jabbed the exposed skin on the arm. Seeing and hearing no reaction from the king he placed the arm back down. He turned to Aharon and said, “It has taken effect.”

The king was startled by someone taking his arm. He soon felt the prick of a needle. He tried to pull the arm away but it would not follow his command. No matter how hard he tried he could not remove it away from the point that pricked his skin. He tried to call out but no voice came. His lips and tongue would not respond. Sudden terror filled the king. He could not move or cry out but he was awake and could feel everything.

Aharon turned toward the king and ordered, “Turn him on his side and lift his shirt up.”

Several assistants rolled Rædwald on his side and one lifted his shirt to his shoulders. All the while Rædwald tried to scream and move to defend himself without success.

Aharon reached onto the table and retrieved a drill like instrument. He leaned over Rædwald’s back and back to work. As he did so he said, “First you must make a hole for the sauve.”

As Aharon drilled into his back, Rædwald felt the excruciating pain which he could not escape from.

Aharon directed an assistant to clean the hole in Rædwald’s back. As the assistant worked Aharon gathered the paste from different piles and mixed them. He rolled them together between his palms and shaped it into a tube. He returned to the hole and stuffed the paste into it saying, “Now we add the medicine.”

As the medicine was placed the pain subsided. Then without warning the wound began to burn. A burn that was white hot unlike any that Rædwald ever experienced.

Aharon ordered an assistant to bandage the wound with the medicine still in it.

Acting like a teacher bragging to his students he said, “We leave the medicine in place for two hours.”

The assistants nodded and Aharon continued leading the lesson, “We must perform this five more times.”

With that Aharon began the second procedure.

Sometime during the third application Rædwald mind could take no more and he passed out from the pain.

*****

Slightly over two weeks later Rædwald sat on his throne in the throne room. Still recovering from the botched treatment for consumption by the Court Physician Aharon he hunched over leaning to his right in the chair not able to straighten his back without pain. Several furs were thrown over the king to keep him warm. His lips quivered mostly from the pain. His eye, however, were frightening to look upon as they seemed to harbor all his hatred at the moment.

Alongside Rædwald to his left sat his wife and queen Crístina. Her eyes too bore an incredible amount of hatred and betrayal. One she had trusted had done this to her husband. She rested her right hand on Rædwald’s left hand offering what reassurance she could.

Other than the king and queen only a single scribe and several guards were present in the throne room. Normally one or more of the Counselors would be present but with them all sequestered in their keeps none were present here in York. The only exception was the Court Chaplain Bishop Wulfgar who would be along momentarily.

The doors to the room opened and Wulfgar entered at the head of a column. Behind Wulfgar marched two guards with halberds. Then came a guard and a prisoner in chains followed by four more guards. The column approached the throne.

At the bottom of the dias Wulfgar stopped and bowed to the king and said, “I bring you the prisoner Aharon of Mistretta.”

The bishop then stepped to Rædwald’s right. The two guards behind Wulfgar bowed and stepped to each side. Aharon was dragged forward by the guard holding his chain. Aharon’s wrists and ankles were shackled and he nearly tripped when the guard pulled. Once before the dias one of the guards behind him used the butt of his halberd staff and swept the feet out from under the prisoner. Aharon fell sideways to the floor landing on his right shoulder. Aharon slowly picked himself up but the guards would not let him stand. They would only allow him to kneel. Aharon looked down at the floor and refused to look up at the king.

Rædwald looked down at Aharon and all the king think was how much he wanted to stand up and walk down to his tormentor and beat him to a pulp. To his disappointment Rædwald knew at this time physically he could not. He would have to settle for other means of obtaining his satisfaction.

In a voice laced with hatred Rædwald said, “Look upon you handiwork.”

Aharon did not lift his head. A guard slid the staff of his weapon under Aharon’s chin and forced his head up. Aharon did not speak.

With even more venom Rædwald asked, “Are you proud of it?”

Still no response from the former court physician. The guard standing next to Aharon punched him in the side of the face. His chin dislodged from the staff. Blood appeared at the side of his mouth.

Rædwald stood and demanded, “Say something for yourself.”

Aharon remained silent. One of the guards behind him slammed the end of his weapon staff into the prisoner’s upper back. Aharon fell forward hitting the stones with his face. He slowly rose onto his knees and hands. He looked up at the king, blood running from his nose.

Aharon spat out some blood and finally spoke, “I did nothing wrong. I followed the treatment to the letter.”

Rædwald threw his arms up and pointed to himself, “Does this look like it worked.”

Aharon rose to his knees and replied, “God must not have been with you…” He never finished as Rædwald nodded. A guard kicked Aharon in the stomach. Aharon fell back to all fours gasping for breath. The guard then kicked him in the side and Aharon lifted off the ground and spun landing on his back. He laid there clutching his side and gasping for air.

As Rædwald sat back down he said, “I am done with him.”

The guards grabbed Aharon and forced his back to his knees. His nose was still bleeding and he was spitting blood between gasps.

Once seated Rædwald said, “Take him from here to the place of execution and saw him in half. Take his remains and feed them to the hogs for all I care.”

As the guards began to force Aharon up he started to protest but it was cut short by the fist of a guard to Aharon’s jaw. A listless Aharon was dragged from the throne room.

Rædwald turned to Crístina. She looked him in the yes and nodded her approval. She then stood and helped Rædwald stand. Leaning on his queen they walked out of the throne room.

 

[tpmcinty]

January 1015 York

This was a winter like none could remember. Death and dismay stalked the therofares of the city and the countryside. Not even the the freshness of newly fallen snow could wash the stench and fear away. Few ventured in the streets. The marketplace was frequented by fewer than a third who would regularly mingle among the stalls many of which were empty. Even the taverns saw fewer patrons and several stood empty and neglected. Only the churches had seen an influx in visitors, those seeking divine intercession as the efforts of man were failing miserably.

The small fire burning in the hearth barely took the chill off the empty cavernous Great Hall. The three lone occupants of the hall wrapped themselves tightly in furs and they could see their breaths in the winter air.

Crístina and Wulfgar stood stunned and bewildered at the foot of the throne dias. Rædwald’s orders had caught them off guard and given the current state of the keep made little sense. They both were trying to come to terms with them.

A visibly frustrated Wulfgar argued, “Milord, little or nothing will be gained. The illness had already taken hold with the keep.”

An equally frustrated and upset Crístina took up the cause, “Several members of the court such as Eadflæd suffer from the sickness.”

Neither had the nerve to state that the king too suffered from consumption. Doing so would bring his wrath upon whoever mentioned it. With her heartbreaking Crístina knew that the botched treatment had changed Rædwald. A madness had set upon him and was growing worse day by day. She awaited the coming storm.

She did not have to wait long. From the top of the dias Rædwald took a step down. His face turned bright red and her clenched his fists so hard his arms shook. He roared, “Am I not the king?”

Full of fear Wulfgar swallowed hard and remained silent. He did not wish to loose his head in a disagreement with the king. The queen, on the other hand, felt it was her duty to speak up.

She said, “Yes you are king. A wise and benevolent king. This thing you do is not wise and is cruel.”

Rædwald glared at his queen and took another step down the dias, “Am I not being allowed to protect my court, to protect my… our children?”

Standing her ground Crístina replied, “No one is denying you the right to protect our children but this is not the way. Send them elsewhere if you must.”

Rædwald threw his arms up in frustration, “Where do I send them? My choices are to send them to the counties suffering from consumption or the ones suffering from camp fever. Do I send them to another court and risk them being taken hostage or worse?”

Crístina replied, “No I do not want that.” She hung her head in defeat.

Rædwald smiled and then yelled, “Guard”

A guard ran into the room. Reaching the dias he took a knee and said, “Yes, Your Highness.”

Rædwald triumphantly ordered, “Go to the Captain of the Watch and tell him the king has ordered the gates to keep be shut.”

He tossed a rolled up and tied scroll to the guard. The scroll fell at the guard’s feet.

Rædwald ordered, “Go now!”

The guard picked up the scroll and stood. He quickly left the hall.

As the gates closed their banging echoed through the hall. Crístina shook her head in despair.

*****

A little over a week later a priest, several grave diggers, and a couple of women dressed in mourning clothing stood solemnly amongst the gravestones that denote the final resting place of relatives to the royal family. The cemetary was located just outside the walls of the sealed keep and few ventured there. The priest read the burial prayer as the coffin was slowly lowered into the grave.

A single rider came upon the scene and halted. He dismounted and tied his horse to the gate of the cemetery. Quietly and respectfully he entered the graveyard and stood near the grave but several steps away from the others so as not to disturb the ritual. As the priest read the prayers and performed the burial rites the man bowed his head in reverence. Once the rites were completed and the mourners departed the man stayed for a moment praying for the soul of the deceased.

The priest noticed the man and walked toward him and said, “May God be with you friend.”

The man replied, “And may he also be with you.” He looked at the grave and asked, “If I may ask for whom’s soul were you praying for and their return to our Lord.”

The priest looked at the place of interment as the gravediggers shoveled dirt into the grave, Her name was Eadflæd. At one time she was the Countess of Gloucester until Æthelweald her husband and half brother to the king died. As they were childless the county passed back to the king and she came to live here at the court.”

The man nodded, “Did she die from the sickness?”

The priest nodded and shivered from the cold, “Yes the consumption took her life.”

The man turned his gaze to the priest, “I thought so. Why else would a grave be dug in the frozen ground.”

The priest smirked as he watched the gravediggers some more, “The gravediggers were not a happy lot. Normally they would have waited until a thaw but with the disease raging they could not. Since she was a member of the royal family, so unlike a commoner her body could not be just burned.”

The man too watched the gravediggers, “Strange how times have changed.”

The priest looked confused, “How is that?

The man turned and looked at the priest. It was then the priest saw that under the man’s furs he wore a monk’s robe. The man continued, “The Only a few generations ago the descendants of Loðbrok would lay their dead upon a prye that rested on a ship. The pyre was set afire and the ship pushed out to sea.”

The priest was shocked, “Not to bury in consecrated ground is no way to reach heaven.”

The man/monk smiled, “They were not trying to reach heaven instead Valhalla was their destination.”

The priest looked at the man in disbelief, “You are a man of God and speak of heathen rituals like some blasphemer.”

The man chuckled, “I am no blasphemer. I just speak of things that once were. Nothing more.”

The priest huffed and began to scurry away. He wanted to put distance between himself and this stranger.

The man called out, “Friend if I may ask a question.”

The priest stopped and turned around. He was becoming anxious besides wanting to be rid of this odd monk he did not being out in the open for this long of a time. The longer he was here the likelihood of encountering an infected person increased. Not all priests in York were willing to expose themselves to the suffering. Some were needed to preach to those who survived. The priest pleaded “Please hurry. I must return to my church.”

The man walked over to the priest, “Where does one go to deliver a message to the king since his keep is now secluded.”

The priest now getting desperate to be far from this man quickly replied, “There is a place near the rer gates that messages can be sent through the walls.”

Without waiting for a response the priest turned and almost ran from the graveyard.

The man shook his head and muttered under his breath, “Disgraceful. A man of God who should be tending to his flock in its time of need. Instead he worries only about himself” He walked back to his horse and untied the animal. He mounted and continued on his journey to the keep.

A short time later the man found himself at the rear gate of the keep. Before going on he surveyed the scene. Near the rear gate which consisted of a large oaken door reinforced with metal a camp with a makeshift wall of stone, dirt, and wood had been erected. Within the camp dwelled messengers and couriers for the king. They were not within the walls of the keep but they did what they could to isolate themselves from others.

As the man watched a courier approached the oaken door and rang a bell next to the door. After a few moments a slot in the door was opened. The courier spoke with whoever was on the other side. He nodded and then passed a packet through the slot. The person on the other side of the door took the packet and then closed the slot with a loud clang. The courier stepped away and retrieved his horse. He then lead his horse into the camp.

The man began to make his way to the door but hesitated when he noticed someone standing on the ramparts. The person placed his hands at his mouth and shouted, “The king has a message to be taken from here.”

The man notice activity in the camp. Several couriers spoke together and one began to walk to the camp gate. The others disbursed into the camp. The selected courier approached the door and rang the bell. The lot open and words were exchanged. A satchel was based through a slot next to the door as it was too big to pass through the door slot. Apparently the stachel was placed in the wall from within and a door shut inside the keep. The courier opened the door on his side of the wall and removed the satchel and closed the door. With the satchel the courier walked back to the camp.

Before approaching the door the man waited to see what transpired. A short time later five mounted and armed guards left the camp with the courier riding his horse. They galloped past the man without noticing him.

Once the small squad was past him the man approached the door. He rang the bell and waited. He could hear men talking but could not understand them. After a few minutes the slot slid open. It was then that man realized that above him on the ramparts stood an archer with an arrow notched pointing at him.

A voice from the slot demanded, “State your business or begone.” The thought he heard the bow string being pulled tauter.

The man looked through the slot at a pair of cold grey eyes encased within a helmet.

With no emotion the man responded, “I am Beorhthelm the Monk. I bear a commision from the king”

The eyes seemed not to believe him and replied, “A commission you say. What type of commission will that be?”

Wondering how much tighter the bowstring above would become before it loosed its arrow and just getting generally annoyed Beorhthelm answered, “I am to be the new Court Physician.”

With a bit of mockery the eyes replied, “Is that so?”

It took a moment for Beorhthelm to realize that was the request from the eyes for Beorhthelm to provide proof. Beorhthelm removed the scroll containing his commission from inside his furs and handed it through the slots. A hand took the scroll and Beorhthelm could hear the tie being removed and a huff as the eyes read the scroll. There was a muffled discussion and Beorhthelm could hear footsteps of someone leaving.

The eyes returned to the slot and ordered, “Wait here.” The slot was abruptly closed. The bowman relaxed but still kept a vigilant stance.

Beorhthelm waited for close to a half an hour. In that time three couriers came and went. Thinking he was forgotten Beorhthelm was readying to leave when he heard the bolts locking the door being thrown.

Beorhthelm could hear the unmistakable sound of bow strings being pulled taut. He looked up at the ramparts above and saw the signal archer had been joined by several more all with arrows notched and waiting. Some watched him but the others scanned the area around the door. Necessary precautions just in case someone decided to charge the door while it was opened.

The door creaked as the hinges protested at being moved. Two guards in full armor with swords drawn stepped out from behind the door. Behind them a man who was obviously a bishop stood.

The bishop smiled and said, “I am Bishop Wulfgar of Lichfield, the Court Chaplin. The king is overjoyed that you have answered his commission.” Wulfgar looked about and then said motioning to Beorhthelm to follow, “Now let us get inside the walls.”

Beorhthelm did not have a chance to react as the two swordsmen grabbed him and basically dragged him through the door. Once they were clear the door shut and the locks were engaged and the keep was once again sealed.

 

[tpmcinty]

May 1015 York

Crístina took the message from her lady in waiting and thanked her. The lady curtsied and left leaving the queen sitting in the chair in the queen’s chambers. Across from her sat Eadhild, the Queen Mother. Eadhild looked at Crístina expectantly.

Seeing Eadhild’s reaction Crístina said, “It is not what we were waiting for. I do believe it is too early for that.”

Disappointed Eadhild said, “Well what does it say?”

Crístina smiled at Eadhild impatience. The queen opened the message and said, “It is from Duke Emrys. He tells of how raiders from Kola lead by a Chief Grimr landed in Dyfed. Mayor Drystan of Caersws lead an army from Deheubarth and defeated this Grimr at St Davids on March 29th. Apparently Grimr was struck in the head by a mace and had to be carried from the battlefield and his raiders fled from Dyfed.”

After a few moments of silence Eadhild said, “I hear that my son has found a cat.”

Crístina laughed, “At first I could not believe it. But I must admit that the thing is cute and in a short time has had a positive effect on Rædwald.”

Still in disbelief Eadhild asked, “How is that?”

Crístina who was becoming a believer replied, “He is calmer and not as angry as he has been. The cat takes up his time, and he forgets his troubles for a time. Some people say a cat is lucky.”

Eadhild nodded and said, “Then that is good, and I hope it is truly lucky.”

Crístina reached onto the table next to her and poured herself a cup of wine. She offered some to Eadhild wo refused. Crístina asked, “Have you heard from Hlothere?”

Eadhild nodded, “Yes a message reached me a few days ago. His baby daughter Agatha is now considered healthy and there are no lingering effects of her poor health as a newborn.”

Eadhild became all smiles, “Hlothere and Tiburge have had another son.”

Crístina was surprised as she had not heard about Tiburge being pregnant. Communications being the way they were, everyone locked away in their keeps it was expected. She asked, “What did they name the baby?”

Eadhild the proud grandmother replied, “It is a boy and they named him Hlothere.”

Crístina nodded, “That is good, named for his father.”

Crístina had heard distressing news about Prince Hlothere but unable to confirm it, so she thought this was a good time to ask his mother, “I have heard that the senior Hlothere has become inflicted with a sickness. Is that true?”

Eadhild paused and then shook her head, “I am afraid so Hlothere has the Lover’s Pox. It seems that he was bedding a couple of the maid servants.”

Crístina seemed surprised, “Maidservants?”

Eadhild replied casually, “There is no surprise there. King Eilif did the same. He would say through the maid’s pillow talk he learned a great deal about the happenings in the keep that his counselors did not tell him.”

Crístina shook her head, “Shameful.”

Eadhild laughed, “Do not be surprised if someday your husband does not indulge himself. It is in his blood.”

Crístina looked at the wine in her cup and suddenly became withdrawn and silent. Eadhild looked at her with concern and asked, “Has something already happened?”

Knowing his father’s and mother’s histories when it came to lovers, Rædwald having an affair was something she greatly feared. Thus far he had not shown any tendencies to follow in his father’s footsteps until recently.

Still looking down at her cup Crístina replied, “Wulfwaru said that she caught Rædwald with the cook. He denied anything occurred. He blamed Wulfwaru saying she was creating stories to get even with him for punishing her for some offense she did.”

Eadhild reached over and held Crístina’s hands and asked, “Do you believe him?”

Crístina tried to smile but doubt now ate at her, “Given it was Wulfwaru telling the tale and knowing she and Rædwald have not been on good terms I am inclined to believe him.”

Eadhild released Crístina’s hands and sat back, “Then that settles the matter.”

Not entirely convinced Crístina took a deep breath and then looked at Eadhild, “Have any news reached you Swæfræd?”

Now it was Eadhild who became withdrawn and concern filled here face. “He has closed the gates of his keep. I am concerned with the persistent rumors saying his keep was not properly provisioned before the gates were shut. If the illness lasts for a long time his court and he will run out of food.”

Eadhild had touched on something that worried Crístina constantly, “I pray that we have enough food to outlast the sickness.”

Eadhild nodded, “I do also.”

Crístina took a couple sips of wine and said, “We have heard that Countess Mildrith of Gloucester is suffering from fatigue. There is concern that she may succumb to camp fever like her father, Prince Sigfrið.”

Eadhild sighed, “Let us pray that does not happen. I heard the war for Wiltshire, her father began, goes poorly for her.”

Grimly Crístina said, “Yes it does. King Diogo III of Galicia is aiding King Ælfgar and with the Galician troops involved they are overwhelming the Gloucesterian forces.”

Eadhild shook her head, “Such a pity.”

Crístina smiled, “Some good tidings from France, Princess Bodil has fully recovered from her bout of camp fever.”

Eadhild smiled, “That is indeed good news.”

Crístina turned somber and asked, “How does your granddaughter Ecgfrida fare?”

Eadhild closed her eyes like she was in pain and then opened them, “It is very difficult to see someone so young suffer from consumption. Hope her youth will provide her the strength to defeat the illness.”

Crístina looked down at her lap and asked, “Does Swæfræd know of his daughter’s fate?”

Eadhild shrugged her shoulders, “I know not. A message was sent but no reply has been received.”

Crístina took another deep breath and finished her cup of wine, “In truth I do not concern myself overly with Swæfræd. His affairs are nothing but an almost comical distraction. The brother I worry about is Hjalmar.”

Eadhild only knew a few details of the deteriorating relationship between her sons and the son of Ingrid of Chester, “Why does he trouble you so?”

Crístina refilled her cup and drank half of it in one gulp, “Hjalmar has declared a faction to make himself king. On most days I would laugh alongside my husband about such action. Now with us locked up here…” the arm and hand not holding the cup swept about her and the room “… Hjalmar chastises us for abandoning the people. He states that he has not secluded himself away. Now Rædwald’s cousin and a man Rædwald appointed an earl and commander of his armies, Sumarliði supports Hjalmar’s faction.”

Eadhild folded her hands in her lap and said in a matter of fact voice, “Something needs to be done about both of them.”

Surprised by Eadhild’s tone Crístina looked at the woman and remembered the rumors of her involvement with the untimely death of Þegen Hereberht of Warwick who had threatened the lives of Rædwald and Hlothere. Crístina made a mental note to not get on Eadhild’s bad side and discuss the rumors with her husband someday.

Just at that moment a knock came on the door. A lady in waiting answered and then walked to the queen. She curtsied, and said, “Milady the Court Physician is here.”

The faces on both ladies lit up and both almost leapt out of their seats.

Recovering quickly and business like Crístina replied, “Show him in.”

The lady in waiting bowed and left. A moment later Beorhthelm stood before them. He bowed in a very humbling manner spoke, “My ladies.”

Anxious but trying not to show it Crístina responded, “Yes Lord Physician.”

Beorhthelm smiled, “The king has come through the treatment and is in good health. You may see him if you wish.”

Both women smiled and Crístina replied, “Where is he?”

Beorhthelm continued smiling and answered, “Here of course.”

Beorhthelm stepped aside and Rædwald stepped between him and the queen and his mother. Crístina looked at her husband and was amazed by how well the king looked. She thought he had a glow about him.

Seeing he was no longer needed Beorhthelm said, “By your leave.”

Crístina nodded and Beorhthelm bowed and left the chamber. Once the physician was gone Crístina now leapt out of the chair and hugged Rædwald.

Crístina let him go and he walked to his mother. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Eadhild asked, “How do you feel?”

Rædwald stood straight and with a big smile he replied, “Like a changed man.”

Crístina still concerned for his health lead him to a chair and he sat down. The queen returned to her chair. “Wine?” she asked lifting the pitcher.

He smiled at her and responded, “Yes please.”

Crístina poured the wine and handed him the cup.

“Thank you my darling,” he said as he took the cup.

Crístina looked at Eadhild who was sitting wide eyed. Rædwald was being unusually polite.

Full of curiosity Crístina asked, “Can you tell us what happened?”

The king took several sips and then rested the cup in his lap with both his hands. His face had a bewildered look for a moment and then it became the face of someone very content.

He began, “I was brought into my bed chambers and made to lay on the bed. A pot was placed in my hand. And do know what was in the pot?”

Crístina was so anxious she blurted out, “No what?”

Rædwald smiled and replied, “A poor terrified rat. The thing was running around in the pot trying to escape and squeaking. I was told to hold the pot on my chest. Beorhthelm said the rat would carry my burdens in my stead.”

Crístina and Eadhild looked at one another thinking the whole thing was crazy.

The king did not notice them and continued, “Some of his assistants closed the curtains making the room dark. Others lit candles. Then everyone started chanting. I do not know for how long. I don’t know if I fell asleep or in a trance. As I laid there I could feel my burdens being lifted. When I woke or became aware once again I never felt better.”

He suddenly coughed. Crístina was ready to jump out of the chair and Eadhild was full of fear. Rædwald raised his hand. “Look it is over.” And the cough was.

He smiled trying to reassure them. “Beorhthelm said that due to the damage previously done to my body I may always have a cough, but over time it will get less and less.”

Eadhild was not convinced and said, “I hope so.” Crístina’s face showed her doubts.

Rædwald finished his wine and an odd look came over his face, “Hlothere and Ealdmund have been asking me to release Leofweald and Hrolfr for some time. Now may be the time I took them up on their offers.”

Crístina almost shook her head. She had never thought Rædwald would ever forgive those two. After Maria and Anlaufr he held them most responsible for the failed revolt many years ago.

Confused she looked at Rædwald and said, “I thought you said you would never let them see the light of day again.”

Rædwald smiled and reached over and placed his hands on Crístina’s hands resting in her lap, “Those were words spoken in the passion of the moment and a very long time ago. If our Lord could forgive his executioners, then should I not forgive them?”

Crístina and Eadhild were stunned into silence. They were both wondering what had come over the king and if it was a good thing.

Rædwald stood and straightened his clothing. He held his hand out to help Crístina stand. Once the confused queen was standing he turned and helped his mother to stand. Both women were concerned.

He then said, “I am hungry. Let’s see what the cook has prepared for dinner.”

With that he lead them from the chamber.

 

[tpmcinty]

Chapter 7.12

January 1016 English Siege Lines Outside of Dumbarton, County of Clydesdale

A light snow was falling as the sun set behind the hills near Dumbarton. The siege engines continued their relentless bombardment of the walls of the city. The English soldiers and their Galician allies moved about their encampment with little worry. The small Scottish garrison that held the city had a small number of catapult and trebuchets and few they had did not have the range to reach the English lines.

As the snow fell the commanders of the two armies ate dinner together in the tent of Ealdmund Osheresson, brother to King Ælfgar of England and heir to the throne of England. Prince Monio, Bishop of Astorga and brother of King Diogo III of Galicia sat across the table from Ealdmund. The prince pushed his plate away from as he was finished with the meal. He took the mug of warm ale and drank heartily from it. Ealdmund sipped his ale as a servant removed his plate from the table.

Monio tipped his mug to Ealdmund and said, “Another fine meal, brother-in-law.”

Ealdmund, who was married to Monio’s sister Margarida, returned the toast and said, “I will pass your compliments onto my cook.”

Monio finished his ale and waited as a servant refilled his mug. The prince looked outside the tent and said, “Snow it takes some getting used to.”

Ealdmund smiled and asked, “You do not see snow in Galicia?”

Monio took a drink and replied, “No not in Coruña or Astorga. One has to travel toward Navarra and the Pyrenees Mountains before you see snow. Until coming here I have only see it a half dozen times in the distance. This is the first place I have been in it. I do say it can be quite peaceful and beautiful.”

Ealdmund snickered, “In war it can be a blessing or a curse. It can freeze and delay your enemy, but it can turn about and do the same to you.”

Monio chuckled, “I shall remember that.” He took another long draught of ale and asked, “Do you think that the snow will have any impact on the diseases running rampant to the south.”

Ealdmund finished his ale and had the servant refill his mug which he placed on the table before him, “I doubt it. People may stay indoors but the snow will do little to stop the sickness.”

Monio smirked, “It is good that it has stricken your enemy, Jorvik.”

Ealdmund grimaced. He did not care for the arrogance Monio often displayed and to Ealdmund this was another example. Epidemics are terrible even if it is your enemy and taking delight in anyone suffering from one was an affront to Ealdmund. To Ealdmund the number of counties enduring the epidemics was staggering. Consumption in Northumbria, Cumberland, Durham, York, Westmorland, Amounderness, Derby, Leicester, Lindsey, Norfolk, Suffolk, and Northampton. Camp fever raged in Gloucester, Hereford, Powys, Perfeddwlad, Shropshire, Gwent, Warwick, and Oxford. What was happening in Chester and Warwick was beyond anything Ealdmund could imagine as the counties suffered from both consumption and camp fever.

Ealdmund responded, “Epidemics are something I wish not upon anyone even my enemies. They kill indiscriminately, husband, wife; mother, father; son, daughter; friend or foe.” He glared at Monio, “You are aware consumption is in the Scottish county of Gowrie and our county of Dunbar and camp fever rages in the English counties of Wiltshire and Dorset?”

Taken back by Ealdmund’s reaction Monio replied sheepishly, “Yes?”

Ealdmund seemed as if he did hear Monio and continued, “Cornwall and Devon are held in the terrible grasp of camp fever. The Petty Kingdom of Cornwall has lost King Guethenoc and his 12-year-old daughter Gwenn now reigns.”

Desperately trying to save face Monio said, “I meant no disrespect. I was only commenting the epidemics weaken Jorvik.”

Ealdmund knew he needed to defuse the moment. Whether he liked it or not he needed the Galician troops Monio lead. He knew he must set aside his dislike of the Galician nobles and their haughtiness. “No offense taken. Epidemics should never be considered an ally. They are God’s way of humbling us all.”

Grasping for a favorable change in topic Monio said, “Is it true that Earl Sumarliði of Hereford has died under suspicious circumstances?”

For Ealdmund this was good news. Sumarliði as a commander had plagued the English. On numerous occasions he outmaneuvered and defeated the English army. He had become Rædwald’s most dependable general. It would take Rædwald some time to find another like him.

Ealdmund finished his ale and nodded. He motioned for more ale and a servant filled the mug one more time. Monio took the time to have his mug refilled.

Ealdmund replied, “Yes. He was found in his bed one morning. Rumors say he was poisoned or bit by some venomous creature while he slept.”

Monio rubbed his chin and then took a sip of ale, “That is interesting. Word has reached us that Rædwald recently had taken a strong interest in poisons.”

Ealdmund raised an eyebrow. That information had not reached his brother or him. He would have to make an inquiry next time he spoke with the spymaster and question why the Galicians knew this before he did.

“That is very interesting.” Ealdmund chuckled, “Or perhaps it was his mother. You know what was said about her when someone threatened her sons.”

Monio chuckled. He knew of the story regarding the death of Þegen Hereberht.

Monio asked, “Have you heard the latest about the king’s brother Earl Swæfræd of Gwent?”

Ealdmund took a sip of ale, “No. Has he sired another bastard?”

Monio sipped some ale and smirked, “No it would be hard for him to do so locked away in his keep. However, it is rumored that they ran out of food and resorted to cannibalism and Bishop Sæxbald of Monmouth was the meal?”

Ealdmund was truly shocked at the news and unnerved by Monio’s lack of emotion at the telling the tale and found himself unconsciously finishing his mug of ale. “Dear God, I hope that is not true.”

Monio did not notice Ealdmund’s reaction and finished his ale. He placed the cup in his lap and when the servant came to fill it he motioned them off. Monio smirked and said, “Now that our troops have returned from defeating that little girl in Gloucester we have a bigger advantage here.”

Ealdmund shook his head. He could not wait until the need for Monio was done. Ealdmund said, “The little girl as you called her is Countess Mildrith of Gloucester. Her father was Earl Sigfrið, brother of King Rædwald. Sigfrið was a very good commander but in madness he declared the Claim War for Wiltshire. A war that under normal circumstances we would easily prove victorious but with our armies elsewhere it is difficult.”

Monio confused by Ealdmund’s reaction and thinking the English commander was referring to the English troops fighting in Aragon, “My brother King Diogo is eternally grateful for the aid you have given us against the heathen Duke Alvar of Gascoigne in our holy mission to free Aragon from the Muslims.”

Ealdmund took a drink of ale so he did not have to respond right away. Ealdmund knew the holy war had been underway for almost 10 years and had been a stalemate until Sultan Abbas of the Umayyad Sultanate had joined Alvar. Since then the war had been going badly for Galicia and even the influx of English troops did little to stem the inevitable outcome. King Ælfgar was lucky to escape Iberia with his life.

Ealdmund replied, “You understand our dilemma and frustration. With our troops in Iberia others have tried to take advantage of the situation such as those from Gloucester and now this Irish uprising in Tuadhmhumhain. I know you have the same feelings.”

Monio eyes flashed with anger, “You speak of your father and his host who are trying to seize the crown of Galicia.”

Ealdmund reacted as if in pain. His father had become a pariah since launching his adventure over two years ago. Too everyone’s surprise Prince Oshere met with early success but in the last six months as more Galician troops were removed from Aragon the tide had turned.

Ealdmund responded, “Prince Oshere is no longer considered my father. He is nothing to me.”

Monio nodded and requested his mug to be refilled. A servant quickly did so. “I thank you for your reassurance regarding Oshere. Now that we have more troops here we can attack the Scottish army.”

Ealdmund shook his head, “Not at this time. We need more troops and King Ælfgar has decreed that Clydesdale must be recaptured.”

Monio was unconvinced, “Why would we need more troops. We outnumber the Scottish.”

Ealdmund placed his mug down and said, “It is not the Scottish that I fear but those who fight with them.”

Monio now understood, “Ah, the Tarans. Until I faced them I had never known the Irish could fight that well.”

Ealdmund grinned. They bloodied your levies when you underestimated them. He said, “They are the soldiers of Queen Crístina of Mide, the wife of Rædwald. They are equipped and trained by the Jorvikians. I for one do not want to meet them unprepared.”

Monio thought for a moment and asked, “Why have we not seen them in some time?”

Ealdmund chuckled as he realized Monio truly did not know, “Their queen has been busy having a baby. She gave Rædwald a daughter named Ælfthryth on Christmas Eve.”

Monio nodded and finished his ale. He was beginning to feel the effects of the ale and knew he needed to return to his tent and bed. He looked at Ealdmund and said, “I have enjoyed our evening, but I must retire.”

Monio stood as did Ealdmund. Ealdmund said, “I understand, and I will see you in the morning.”

Monio bowed and left the tent.

Ealdmund stood watching Monio disappear in the snowfall wondering if it the alliance with the King of Galicia was a prudent act or a foolish one. He was concerned over how many wars Diogo would embroil England in, where the English levies would pay the butcher’s bill while the Galicians reaped the rewards.

A devilish grin came across Ealdmund and he thought, perhaps this is the time to return the favor.

 

[tpmcinty]

September 1016 York

Rædwald crossed the courtyard stepping through the fallen leaves, branches, and weeds. With the keep closed off from the rest of the world upkeep of the gardens within the courtyard was nonexistent and they had grown wild and unkept through the summer. The clear and refreshing fountains were cold and silent. No pumps running, no water for them.

In days past the king would come to the courtyard to enjoy its beauty and peacefulness. Now he came here mostly out of habit or at least in the beginning that was the reason. Now he came to find another seated amongst the chaos.

Rædwald entered the center square of the courtyard and passed the dormant fountain, his heart sinking some as he viewed its forlorn state. His mood quickly reversed for on the bench he found the person he sought. Kraka was his cousin, her father was Thurfrith, son of Count Ragnarr the Seducer of Westmorland and brother to Rædwald’s mother. Her mother was Maria Ingemarsdottir who was one of his father’s lovers and the only one he never sired a child with.

With his brother Hlothere in seclusion within his distant keep at Anglesey Rædwald had lost the person he could speak freely and honestly with and the one person who did not hesitate to speak frankly to him. At one time his wife Crístina had filled that roll but since the birth of their daughter, Ælfthryth, her days were filled with the infant care and wellbeing. Emrys and Ealdmund, his other trusted advisors were also in their keeps waiting out the epidemics that plagued the land.

Lonely and wondering the now too familiar hallways of the keep Rædwald began to seek solace in the courtyard. Even in its twisted and disheveled state it was alive unlike the cold inert walls of the keep. During one of her own strolls in the courtyard Kraka was drawn to the king. She saw within his dire need of a companion to trust and converse with. Taking the initiative Kraka introduced herself to him. At first his shyness held Rædwald back but soon his overwhelming need for a confidant and friend to speak with overcame any reservations. As the days of summer slipped into fall Rædwald felt more and more comfortable with Kraka. He felt lost if he did not have his daily chat with Kraka and began to count her a good friend.

Kraka Thurfrithsdottir looked up at the king from the bench from which she rested. She gave an approving smile as the king sat down next to her. She turned to him and took his hands in her hands and brought them to rest in his lap.

She asked, “How do you fare this day?”

Rædwald smiled, “Today is a good day.”

Kraka returned his smile and said, “That is good, very good.”

Rædwald asked, “How do you fare?”

Kraka chuckled, “I feel well for my age. Thou my joints do feel the coming winter.”

Rædwald laughed, “Your age. You are not much older than I.”

Kraka joined him in his laughter, “You need to learn to lie better. I am 20 years your senior.”

With that she released his hands and placed her hands in her lap. After the laughter died Kraka looked at Rædwald and asked, “I have been meaning to ask you how does Bishop Wulfgar fare? I have not seen him for some time.”

Rædwald looked down at his feet and became very somber. “I am sorry to say he is not well and his time with us grows short.”

Kraka regretted asking now. However, she could see there was more and asked, “The Great Pox?”

Rædwald was surprised, “You knew of his infliction?”

Kraka nodded, “I have heard of his indiscretions over the years. I witnessed the effects of the Great Pox on my Uncle Gunnarr Ingemarsson many years ago.”

Rædwald kicked a pebble at his feet and replied, “I am afraid it is getting worse for him. His mind is going as is his body. He can barely get out of bed these days and cannot keep food down. Beorhthelm gives him another month or month and a half to live.”

Kraka sighed and said, “I shall pray for him.”

Rædwald looked up and stared at the derelict fountain and said, “Death is all about us these days. Deaths in far off places now causes us great concerns.”

Confused Kraka looked at the king, “How may that be?”

Rædwald looked at her and replied, “The death of King Renaud of France in July terminated our alliance with France. His son and successor King Nicolas II refuses to discuss renewing the alliance. I am not sure if he is friend or foe currently. With Mayor Strula locked away in his manor I have no experienced person to send to Paris for an audience and to conduct an evaluation of the situation.”

Kraka nodded and responded, “Long have we been able to rely on France as a friend.”

Rædwald only nodded. To Kraka he seemed distant and lost. She knew she had to try something to change from the dark subjects they had discussed.

She said, “Even in these dark times there are new lives and births to bring us joy and hope. Your daughter for one. And did you not tell me that your sister Judith gave birth to twin girls named Beorthtwynn and Leofrun? I am sure Judith and her husband Æthelweald Eagarsson who is Court Chaplin of Northampton are happy and proud”

Rædwald smiled. He was glad Kraka was here and could raise his spirits some in these dark times.

He replied, “Yes, I did, and I am impressed you remembered all the details.”

Kraka chuckled and patted Rædwald on the shoulder, “I had a good teacher.”

Rædwald’s cheeks redden slightly at her praise. He knew that he could surprise her with some more news of babies.

“Bodil and her husband have celebrated the birth of a daughter they have named Berthe last month.”

Kraka grinned and said, “See so there is some good news from France after all.”

Rædwald chuckled and said, “Did you know that Sigismond Welf, Bodil’s husband, is currently the heir to the French throne?”

Kraka nodded and replied, “No I did not. How is that so?”

Rædwald always enjoyed when he could talk about families and how people were related. He responded, “Just as King Nicolas II, he is the grandson of King Nicolas I. I suspect that he will not be heir for long as I am sure Nicolas will have a son someday. In France, only males can inherit the crown.”

They both fell silent and looked out into the tangled plants of the garden. Kraka notice a change in Rædwald. He seemed uncomfortable again and troubled. Truly concerned she placed her hand on his upper arm and asked, “Have you had the dream again?”

Rædwald took a deep breath and looked to the grey fall sky and then at Kraka, “Yes it occurs almost every night. I am in the center of the city and there is death and suffering all around me. People in rags and covered in sores are crawling toward me calling my name. They say that I know how to end the suffering. I must protect her no longer. They reach for me and claw at my legs. It is then I awaken.”

Rædwald placed his hands in his lap clasped together. Kraka reached over and laid her hands atop his and said, “Do you know who you are protecting in the dream?”

Rædwald looked down and replied, “I do not know.”

Kraka thought for a moment and then asked, “Is there anyone you are protecting now?”

Rædwald looked at her and answered, “Why, I am protecting my family and all of my court such as yourself. That is why I have shut the gates.”

Kraka looked deeply into his eyes and said, “Perhaps that was the wrong thing to do. Maybe you are being directed to open the gates.”

Rædwald pulled his hands away and terror seemed cross his face, “I cannot do such. That would let the illness within and harm those I love.”

Kraka lowered her head and shook it. This was not the first she had suggested opening the gates. Every time she had done so the reaction had been the same. The more Rædwald had these dreams the more she felt she was right.

Rædwald stood and faced her and said, “At least I am not like my brother Hjalmar. He accused some innocent girl of causing the sickness and burned her at the stake as a witch.”

Kraka looked up and him and reached for his hands. She grasped them and said, “No, you are not your brother and I would never accuse you of being.”

Rædwald relaxed and said, “Yes, I know you would not.”

Still holding his hands and smiling, Kraka guided him to back to his seat. Rædwald did not resist her.

After seating him she released his hands. She said, “You have done well for the kingdom. Despite the epidemics the last five years has been a time of peace and prosperity for the realm.”

Rædwald sat silent. At first, he thought that she was trying to humor him but then he came to the realization that she was correct.

Seeing that he his mood was changing she thought to continue the progress and asked, “Do you have any idea who you will appoint as Court Chaplin?”

Rædwald thought for a few moments as he ran names through his mind. Once he settled on one he said, “I will ask Beorhthelm, the Court Physician. He is a monk.”

Kraka smiled with approval and replied, “That would be an excellent choose.”

Rædwald was pleased that Kraka approved of his selection. He thought this might be a good time to tell her of another plan he had devised. “I have thought that given my brother Hjalmar’s action and outright disloyalty I am considering spying on him.”

His plan was confusing to her and she asked, “What would you accomplish spying on your brother?”

Rædwald enjoyed explaining a scheme when he had one. “I could discover how disloyal he truly is. Once I have gathered proof I could arrest him.”

Kraka now understood but the possibilities worried her, “What if he resists arrest and raises a revolt?’

Rædwald smiled, “If he does he plays right into my hands. I will crush him and then strip him of his titles and no one will raise an objection.”

Kraka smiled hiding her concerns. “It sounds like a good plan.”

Rædwald was very proud of himself.

The two friends stayed in the courtyard most of the afternoon discussing all manner of things.

 

[tpmcinty]

March 1017 York

A refreshing breeze blew across the city and the ramparts of the keep bringing the fresh smells of spring quelling the stench of a city still full of death and sickness. With fewer new cases of the illness occurring there was hope the worst of the epidemic was over. More and more of the afflicted were showing signs of improvement.

Crístina stood on the ramparts above the main gate watching the ebb and flow of traffic in and out of the keep now that the gates had been opened by order of the king several days prior. With the gates open Crístina could once again walk and stand on the ramparts and walls of the keep. The threat of being targeted by the angry crowd that had gathered at the base of the wall during the time the keep was sealed.

As Crístina breathed in the air that seemed to be fresher and sweeter now that the keep was opened she noticed Princess Wulfwaru, the oldest royal child approaching her. Upon reaching the queen Wulfwaru said “Greetings, mother.”

Crístina turned and smiled at her daughter and replied, “A good day for a stroll is it not?”

Wulfwaru looked out over the ramparts, “Yes it finally is now that father came to his senses and opened the gates. I was growing tired of being hungry all the time.”

Crístina gazed out into city, “We all did.”

Wulfwaru made a face like she was going to vomit and said, “I never ever, ever want to eat rat again. I still cannot believe that I did so.”

Crístina turned a little green around the edges as she remembers the meals from only a few nights ago. Without thought she said, “There are worse things than rats.”

Wulfwaru looked at her mother in disgust but it was not directed at her. “You mean like Uncle Swæfræd?”

Crístina released her mistake as this was a subject she truly wanted to avoid, and she just nodded in response. Also, being uncomfortable with the matter, Wulfwaru let the subject drop.

Wulfwaru looked at her mother and asked, “Did you make father open the gates?”

Crístina sighed and leaned on the rampart, “No I did not. It was your uncle Prince Hjalmar who brought about the decision.”

Wulfwaru looked confused and responded, “Do you mean all it took was father finding out Hjalmar slandered him to get the gates open.”

Crístina looked at Wulfwaru, “It is not just that simple. Long has Hjalmar plotted against your father by joining factions. In times of war he has held back much of his levies. This charge of slander gives your father, the king, an opportunity to arrest Hjalmar. Once arrested the king can strip Hjalmar of his titles.”

Wulfwaru nodded. She could see the wisdom in such action. “The detail that left here about an hour ago is going to try to arrest Hjalmar?”

Crístina nodded, “Yes they are.”

Wulfwaru looked in the distance as if to try to see the patrol, “Do think they will be successful?”

Crístina too looked off into the distant hills, “Perhaps.”

Wulfwaru turned to her mother, “What if they are not?”

Crístina looked back at her daughter, “Then Hjalmar will raise his flag in revolt and your father will crush him.”

Wulfwaru shook her head, “War with your brother.”

Crístina sighed, “Your father must do what is best for the kingdom.”

Wulfwaru turned and leaned on the ramparts and looked out over the city, “Or yourself,” she murmured.

A flash of anger flickered in Crístina’s eyes and she said, “Remember he not only protects himself but you too.”

Crístina’s words were lost on her daughter. Wulfwaru’s distrust of her father was too deep.

Wulfwaru huffed some but then asked, “What was the letter from the Pope and why did father get angry over it?”

Crístina shook her head and smirked at Wulfwaru, “Still looking at your father’s documents. Have you not learned?”

Wulfwaru looked angrily at her mother, “I did not look at the letter. I overheard father speaking to Beorhthelm about it.”

Crístina was relieved She did not want to relive any episode that involved Wulfwaru being caught by Rædwald reading his documents.

“The Pope sent a letter requesting your father to revoke Free Investiture.”

Wulfwaru nodded and asked, “Did father revoke it?”

Crístina smiled, “Of course not. Being able to appoint bishops is a right that goes back to your great-great grandfather King Knut.”

Wulfwaru smiled secretly proud of her father. “He was able to do so without any repercussions?”

Crístina shook her head, “With the pope nothing is without repercussions. A donation was paid to the pope.”

Wulfwaru was slightly disappointed but knew that one could not be overly defiant to the pope. The fear of excommunication always was a worry.

Wulfwaru asked, “Is it true that Uncle Hlothere has another daughter?”

Crístina smiled, “Yes. Her name is Maud.”

Wulfwaru found the news made her happy, “That is good for them.”

Wulfwaru asked, “How did father take the news that the English-Scottish War ended?”

Crístina turned and leaned her back against the rampart, “As expected. He was disappointed. If it were not for King Diogo of Galicia interfering King Ewan would have been victorious.”

Wulfwaru smirked, “What of the Galicians? I hear they are barbarians.”

Crístina snickered, “I know they fight hard. They think we are the barbarians. I do not care for their arrogance.”

Wulfwaru looked at her mother with some pride, “I heard that your Tarans beat them soundly when they faced the soldiers of Mide.”

Proud Crístina smiled, “Yes we did.”

Wulfwaru smiled back, “I think if they ever fought Jorvikians they would regret it.”

Crístina chuckled, “I am sure they would.” Curious Crístina looked at her daughter, “Why this sudden interest in the Galicians?”

Wulfwaru looked down and replied, “I just would not want father marry me to a Galician prince.”

Crístina reached over and grabbed her daughter and pulled her close, “I can say for sure that is the furthest thing from his mind. Now why the concern?”

Wulfwaru continued looking down, “Eadweard said he heard father discussing marrying me to someone from Galicia with Beorhthelm.”

Knowing there were some sibling shenanigans going on Crístina asked, “Did your brother say why your father would marry you to a prince of Galicia?”

Wulfwaru said, “He said father told Beorhthelm that he needed a marriage to counter the English alliance with Galicia.”

Crístina looked at her daughter knowing there was more, “Anything else?”

Wulfwaru hesitated and then tears began to swell in her eyes, He said that father said I was too ugly to marry to anyone other than a Galician.”

Crístina got the look that mothers get when a child has done something that warranted punishment and said, “Un-huh, I see. Let’s go see Eadweard.”

Crístina then put her arms around Wulfwaru’s shoulders and lead her from the ramparts.

Bamburgh, Northumbria

Hjalmar finished his dinner and pushed the bowl away from him on the table. He reached for his mug of ale and drained it dry.

Strange, he thought, the servant should have been here to take the bowl and bring more ale.

A loud commotion was occurring outside the door to his chambers. Hjalmar tried to discern the words but was not able to understand them. He could tell the discussion was getting rather heated and involved someone trying to enter the chambers univited. Hjalmar looked around for his sword and saw it hanging from the rack on the other side of the room. He knew there would not be enough time to reach it. He held on tightly to the spoon as it was the only thig he had.

He was about to stand when the door suddenly swung open and Mayor Valdemar of Gateshead, his Steward entered, or was pushed into the room.

A thoroughly frustrated Valdemar said, “I am sorry milord, I tried to tell them you are unavailable.”

A man pushed by Valdemar nearly knocking the mayor off his feet. The man was followed by several men at arms with swords drawn. Hjalmar stood pushing his chair out away from the table concealing the spoon. Several of the invaders moved toward him.

“I would not do that, Duke Hjalmar.” Hjalmar looked at the man you entered the room last. The man continued, “A spoon against swords will not work in your favor.”

Hjalmar knew the man was right and dropped the spoon on the table. In a commanding voice the Duke of Northumbria bellowed, “Bishop Hrolfr of Burton, what is the meaning of this intrusion?”

Hjalmar kept his eyes on the men in the room as he waited for an answer. Several of them worked their way around Hjalmar. He knew he was trapped.

Hrolfr responded in his own commanding voice, “Duke Hjalmar of Northumbria by order of King Rædwald you are hereby under arrest.”

Hjalmar glared at Hrolfr and asked, “On what charge?”

As he responded Hrolfr replied, “Treason!”

Before Hjalmar could react, men grabbed his arms. He was quickly found himself with his upper body pinned to the table. His arms were yanked behind him and his hands tied. He was pulled erect and pushed out of the room.

 

[tpmcinty]

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.”

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.

 

[tpmcinty]

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.”

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.”

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.”

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

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

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.”

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.

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.

 

[tpmcinty]

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.

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

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

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.”

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.”

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.”

“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.”

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.”

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.”

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.”

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.

 

[tpmcinty]

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.”

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.

*****

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.”

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.

 

[tpmcinty]

December 1018 Siege Lines Outside of Cupar, County of Fife

Rædwald never cared for the beginning of a siege. The confusion and chaos that accompanied surrounding the besieged city, the erection of fortifications, and the installation of the siege engines felt overly tedious and mundane. While he grasped the importance of sieges in subduing an enemy, Rædwald like many felt more at home on the battlefield or on the road pursuing the enemy. A siege was the same day after day with the occasional raid thrown in. Then finally after months the final assault would come. An almost anti-climactic event after the long wait.

Rædwald did have to admit this siege had begun easily enough. Many of the fortifications from when the English had besieged the city were still in place and effortlessly repaired. Emrys had seen to the king’s comfort by securing a manor for the king to dwell in throughout the siege. The marshal had taken over the town hall for his command post and his residence since he wished to be close to the command post.

Rædwald now stood in the town hall looking over a map of Cupar and the surrounding area draped over a large table. Wood tokens of different colors were placed on the map around the outside of the city.

Prince Eadweard strolled over to the table. The young prince had turned 11 back in August and Rædwald felt it was time for him to experience life in a military camp. No objections from Queen Crístina were expressed with being a siege the prince could easily be kept away from harm. Besides the queen was in attendance elsewhere in the camp and had brought 14-year-old Princess Wulfwaru along.

As Eadweard stopped at the table Rædwald looked at him and asked, “How was your tour with Bishop Wistan of Burton?”

Eadweard looked at the tokens and without taking his eyes off them replied, “It was nice.”

Rædwald feigned horror and asked, “It was nice! Just nice. What did you see?”

Eadweard desperately wanted to reach out and grab one of the tokens and as he answered he slowly moved his hand toward one, “I saw the siege towers being built and the trebuchets.” His voice rose with excitement as he mentioned trebuchets. I saw the new big one. It hurled a huge rock toward the walls, but the rock did little damage.” Disappointment filled his voice, “The rock just crumbled when it hit the wall.”

Rædwald smiled and patted his son on the back, “That is why sieges take a long time. The walls of cities and castles are strong, and it takes many rocks hitting the same place over and over again to do any damage.”

Eadweard nodded and returned his attention to the tokens. Rædwald interrupted his attempt to grab one by asking, “Did you thank Bishop Wistan for showing you the camp?”

Eadweard was insulted at the question. Good manners had been drilled into him from an early age from his tutors and especially his mother, “Yes, of course I did.”

Curiosity finally overcame shyness and Eadweard asked, “What are these wood pieces for?”

Rædwald smiled and picked up one, “They show our army around the city. See this one,” holding a white token with a red cross, “it is for our Jorvikian troops.”

Rædwald handed the token to Eadweard and he examined it. He looked at the map and asked, “Why are there 8 Jorvikian tokens.”

Rædwald pointed at the tokens and said, “Each one represents about 500 troops.”

Eadweard thought for a moment and said, “that means there are four thousand Jorvikian troops here.”

Proud Rædwald nodded and said, “Yes that is very well done.”

Eadweard beamed in his father praise. He put the Jorvikian token down and asked, “What do the other ones mean?”

Rædwald ginned. He knew the question was coming. “The blue token with the three yellow stripes is for the Tarans.”

Eadweard excitedly interrupted, “They are mother’s soldiers from her Petty Kingdom of Mide.”

Rædwald realized he had an audience of sorts as Emrys, Vagn, and Earl Cathal of Tír Eoghain now stood around the table.

Rædwald continued, “The green with the wavy blue and white lines is for Ulaidh.”

Eadweard looked around the room and asked, “Is Chief Garalt of Ulaidh here?”

It was Vagn who answered. It was his responsibility to arrange the upcoming war council meeting. “He is not here but will be along shortly.”

Eadweard looked at Earl Cathal and pointed at the white token with a red dot and said, “That one is for your soldiers, Earl Cathal.”

Cathal smiled and nodded, “Yes, prince it is.”

Eadweard looked at the map and pointed to the amber with red stripes tokens and said, “Those must be the Scottish.”

Emrys chuckled and responded, “You are correct, Prince Eadweard.”

At that moment several people entered the room. Eadweard spotted one and ran toward her saying, “Mother.”

Crístina smiled as he hugged her about the waist. Eadweard suddenly stopping hugging her and looked oddly at her. Crístina chuckled, “This is a place of war.” She removed her furs and revealed how she was dressed. “Since I command the Tarans I dress like the men, in armor and with a sword at my waist.”

Eadweard seemed to be relieved. He had grown used to seeing his mother in dresses and gowns. This was the first time he had encountered her dressed for war.

With Crístina was Chief Garalt and Princess Wulfwaru. Crístina told Eadweard to join Wulfwaru and to stand along the wall near the table out of everyone’s way. She also told them to stay quiet and observe.

Crístina and Garalt took their places at the table. They were soon joined by Beorhthelm. Rædwald nodded and Beorhthelm said a quick prayer for a successful council.

Emrys nodded and two servants laid a map of Scotland and English Lothian on the table. Emrys began, “We all had held the hope that the newly elected King of Scotland Uhtred would be reasonable and surrender. Unfortunately, he has not yielded to the inevitable and continues to fight on even after the defeats his army under the command of Earl Stephan of Tyrconnell have suffered at the hands of the army commanded by Dathgus mac Cummascach at Tain in September and Crossraguel last month. Since Crossraguel we have split the army with our half besieging Cupar and Dathgus pursuing the remnants of the Scottish army into Moray.”

So far, this news was not anything those gathered did not know as many were present at the mentioned battles.

Garalt coughed and said, “If I may interrupt for a moment.”

Emrys nodded and indicated Garalt should continue. Garalt did so, “I must speak bad tidings. Dathgus mac Cummascach has gone to God. Mayor Ríán of Dún Bhun na Gaillimhe from the Kingdom of Connachta now commands.”

There were shocked murmurs from around the table. Crístina asked, “Of what did Dathgus die? I do not recall him being wounded or even sick the last time we saw him.”

In a somber tone Garalt replied, “He had a cancer of the spine that he hid from all but his closest friends. The physicians say it happened because of his hunched back.”

Solemnly Rædwald said, “We will pray for his soul.”

Garalt nodded his gratitude.

Emrys turned back to the map and pointed to the County of Moray, “Mayor Ríán is to pursue and destroy the Scottish. With over six thousand troops it should not take long to crush eight hundred Scottish.”

A hearty round of “Hear, hear” filled the air around the table.

Rædwald waited for the clamor to die and then produced a letter. All eyes were upon him. He held up the letter and said, “I bring good tidings regarding our common enemy King Ælfgar of England. Even with the assistance of the filthy Galicians he has been forced to yield to Fer-Fugaill who is now known as the Liberator. He is also Earl of an independent County of Tuadhmhumhain free from English rule.”

Applause followed the announcement.

Emrys lead the discussion as the council continued. He discussed how the siege would progress and assigned different tasks to the various units within the army. Once he was finished the council was called to a close. Everyone left except for Rædwald, Crístina, Emrys, and Cathal. Wulfwaru and Eadweard made their way over to their parents.

Cathal acknowledged the royal children. They politely returned the greeting.

Cathal looked at the children and smiled. “I want apologize for not being able to attend the ceremonies due to the war, but I would like to offer my congratulations to both of you on your betrothals.”

Both children fidgeted some and Wulfwaru blushed. Cathal continued, “Princess Wulfwaru I wish you a loving and long marriage to Prince Konrád of Great Moravia.” His smile became broader and he said, “You will be the Queen of Great Moravia someday.”

Amazingly Wulfwaru’s face became even redder. She nodded and thanked Cathal.

Cathal then turned to Eadweard and said, “And you Prince Eadweard you are lucky to be betrothed to the Princess Sarrazine of Burgundy. Your marriage will join the great houses of Jorvik and of King Josselin of Burgundy.”

Eadweard was not sure how to react to the fact that he was betrothed. To him girls were just annoying and could not imagine living with one.

Eadweard looked at his parents and his mother gave him a look. He quickly thanked the earl.

Cathal then looked at Rædwald and Crístina and bowed. He then left the room.

Crístina looked at the children and said, “Why don’t you go see what the cooks are making for the mid-day meal.”

Eadweard was off running before his mother finished. Wulfwaru rolled her eyes and protested, “Mother.”

Crístina motioned for her to go, “Wulfwaru go.”

Wulfwaru put her head down and followed her brother.

After the children had left Emrys turned to Rædwald and asked, “What of the situation with Birgitta?”

Rædwald sighed, “She has returned to court in York. Since her husband Geoffroy was appointed Bishop of Charlieu, their marriage was annulled. Since she no longer had ties in the Burgundian court she was sent back to our court.”

Crístina eyes widened and anger crossed her face, “No ties to the court? What of her children?”

Rædwald knew how Crístina felt and regretted what he had to say in response, “They remain at court in Burgundy.”

Crístina’s became red with anger and started to respond but Rædwald raised his hand to stay her and said, “I know what you are going to say, and I agree with you. According to Burgundian law they are considered Burgundian and therefore stay at King Josselin’s court. I have asked Ealdmund and Strula to see what can be done.”

Crístina glared at Rædwald but said nothing.

Emrys hesitated with his next question. He had not intended to create a family confrontation. After taking a deep breath he asked, “Why did King Nicolas of France end the anti-papacy of Innocentius II?”

Rædwald shook his head, “We have not heard any one reason. From what Ealdmund has discovered he needs Pope Honorius’ support to aid him with the peasants. The situation with the peasants is dire throughout France. There is one active revolt in Valencia and many others brewing. The raising of levies is now being affected by the unrest and in some places the levies refused their last muster.”

Emrys nodded and said, “Keeping the peasantry happy is very important in ruling a kingdom. Without them the kingdom will come apart from within.”

The three decided to make their way to the dining area to join Eadweard and Wulfwaru. They did not get far when a courier overtook them.

The courier sought out Crístina. As he was handing the queen a note she asked, “You are from York?”

The courier nodded and replied, “Yes, the queen mother sent me.”

Rædwald, and Crístina held their breath as she opened the note. Both knew that Eadhild would only send a courier if there was a major problem.

Crístina read the note and horror filled her face. She felt weak in the knees and leaned against her husband who desperately asked, “What is it?”

Crístina sniffled and replied, “It is Ælfthryth.”

Becoming more stressed Rædwald asked, “What is wrong with our daughter?”

Crístina swallowed hard and replied, “She has contracted a life-threatening case of the flu.”

Rædwald hugged his wife tightly and ordered the courier, “Find Beorhthelm.”

The courier nodded and replied, “Yes, Sire.” He then went off in search of the court physician.

Rædwald kissed Crístina on the forehead and said, “We shall leave for York immediately.”

 

[tpmcinty]

August 1019 City of Dunfermline, County of Fife

Rædwald drew his horse to a stop before the town hall. Groomsmen took the reigns from the king and the other dignitaries as they dismounted. Jorvikian, Deheubarthian, and Tír Eoghian guards quickly and smartly took their positions around the dignitaries. Rædwald nodded and the group which along with the king included Duke Emrys and Earl Cathal of Tír Eoghain walked toward the stairs leading up to the town hall.

Rædwald was in a good mood as he closed the distance to the town hall. The events of the last eight months had a very large part in his attitude. In that time Emrys and he had taken Cupar and St. Andrews.

Mayor Ríán with his army of Jorvikians, Munsterians, Ulsterians, and Tír Eoghianians defeated the Scottish army at Rosemarkie and Elgin.

After the battles Mayor Ríán and his Munsterians continued to pursue any remaining Scottish troops. Mayor Uhtræd of Scarborough and the Jorvikians, Ulsterians, and Tír Eoghianians under his command besieged and captured Dunstaffnage in the County of Argyll.

Mayor Uhtræd and his army moved on and now besieged St Moluag.

Rædwald now had Dunfermline and with it all of the County of Fife.

At the bottom of the stairs Mayor Edward and several of the city’s leaders stood waiting for the king. Normally this formality would have occurred inside the town hall, but the building had suffered damage in the siege. It was now a burned-out shell of fire scorched stone walls and charred beams that once held the roof. One of the great wooden doors hung loosely on its bottom hinges, the other lay in ruin on the stone entranceway.

As the king approached Edward and the city leaders dropped to one knee and bowed their heads.

Rædwald stopped before Edward and said, “Mayor Edward, you have made a wise choice.”

The king indicated that the group may stand, which they did.

Edward replied, “Further resistance would have been foolish and resulted in unneeded bloodshed and suffering. We have been abandoned by our king and left to our own inadequate means. Our people starve and have suffered greatly from the bombardment”

Emrys nodded and responded, “With less than 300 soldiers you have fought with honor and can hold your heads high.”

Rædwald added, “We will share what provisions we can. It may not be a large amount as you must remember we are still an army fighting a war and must move on to our next objective.”

Edward looked at the Jorvikians confused. These were not the barbarians he had been told about. They showed honor and compassion. The mayor replied, “Your words are truly gracious. Any food and medical assistance will be truly appreciated.”

He then looked at Rædwald and frowned, “It is traditional for the mayor to turn over at this time the key to the city gate, but I fear it has been lost in the destruction of our town hall. I can only offer you my word that the city is yours and sign whatever documents you desire.”

Rædwald grinned, knowing the city gate key was worthless as the gates would have to be replaced. A battering ram had seen to that. He replied, “I accept the surrender of Dunfermline. My scribes will bring the articles to you later this day for the formal signing. For now, your word will suffice.”

*****

Several hours later Rædwald returned to his tent. No soft bed waited for him, no four solid walls either. No time to relish in the victory over another city. The army was on the move. Tents were being struck and equipment crated and hauled onto wagons. Soldiers cursed and complained as soldiers do when given orders to march. Soon discipline and pride would overcome the malcontent of the soldiers. Even before the city fell Emrys had ordered nearly half of the army north on the road to Scone, where King Uhtred’s throne stood.

It may be August, but winter would soon be upon them. Knowing the defenses of Scone were formable Rædwald and Emrys knew a prolonged siege lasting through the winter and perhaps into the spring was in store for them. Before the bitter cold and snows came Emrys wished to have his army ready for the weather, entrenched around the city with winter quarters constructed and provisioned. To aid that effort raiders had been set loose in Gowrie to gather supplies and create fear and panic. Scouts had begun sending reports from the outskirts of Scone.

Rædwald, full of confidence and satisfaction opened the flap to his tent and stepped in. As expected, a figure was seated on a stool provided for guests. Upon seeing the king enter the figure rose and then went to one knee and bowed.

Rædwald smiled and gestured with his hand, “Duke Ealdmund there is no need for such formalities at a time like this.”

Ealdmund rose and returned the king’s smile, “Thank you, Sire.”

Rædwald walked across the tent and took a seat in the padded arm chair that served as his throne in this tent. Rædwald pointed to the stool and said, “Resume your seat.”

Ealdmund nodded and sat down on the stool.

Rædwald asked, “Something to clinch your thirst after a long journey?”

Ealdmund nodded, “Yes thank you, milord.”

Rædwald signaled and a servant brought them two goblets of wine. As the servant handed the king his goblet, Rædwald ordered, “Leave the pitcher. You are dismissed.”

The servant sat the pitcher down on the table next to Rædwald’s chair, bowed and left the tent.

Once the servant had left the tent and secured the flap Rædwald leaned over in the chair toward Ealdmund and in a low voice asked, “What of the plot?”

Ealdmund leaned toward the king and in a low voice said, “I wish you would reconsider, Sire.”

Rædwald leaned back quickly nearly spilling his wine and responded in his normal voice, “Reconsider? Why should I?” Realizing what he was doing the king paused, lowered his voice, and returned to the leaning position, “Because he is my brother?”

Ealdmund hid his anger. He had expressed his growing concerns over the plot and the possible repercussions if it went wrong. “Partially. You have sent him to the oubliette and now he suffers from consumption. With no treatments and being in that place he is not long for the living. His death will be expected, and no one will question it.”

Rædwald glared at Ealdmund. He was tiring of this conversation. “I want him to know that it was I who ordered his death and had it carried out. I do not want him to think that God or some illness is responsible. I want him to hear the assassin tell him it was I who is responsible for his death.”

Ealdmund was growing frustrated, “Milord, while I understand you desire for a measure of revenge against your brother for the wrongs he has committed against you I fear he will not know your name or who you are.”

Confusion crossed Rædwald’s face, “What do you speak of? Of course, he will know.”

Ealdmund took a deep breath, “I do not think it will be so. The guards report that he is completely out of his mind. He acknowledges no one, not even his mother when she visits him.”

Rædwald snickered, “So Ingrid still visits him and hopes for his release. Fool.”

Ealdmund nodded, “She is his mother.”

Rædwald shook his head, “That maybe but she is still a fool.”

Ealdmund sat back in the chair. His back was becoming painful from the leaning. Still in a low voice he said, “She is someone that will have to be dealt with upon Hjalmar’s death no matter the manner. Be it by natural causes, consumption, or and assassin’s blade, she will turn her anger toward you.”

Rædwald now sat back in the chair and took a sip of wine. “If she becomes too bothersome we will remove her from court one way or another.”

Ealdmund swallowed. The death of one member of the royal household on his hands was bad enough. At least with Hjalmar the Duke of Northumbria had earned his fate with constant plotting and refusal to follow orders. Ingrid was only a mother protecting her child.

“Yes, milord.”

Annoyed and impatient when came to this matter Rædwald asked bluntly, “Are you going to complete this task, or shall I find another who will without question or hesitation?”

Ealdmund took a long draught from the goblet eyeing Rædwald the entire time over the rim of the goblet. To have another take on this task was not something Ealdmund wanted. While the task of having the king’s, half-brother killed left a bad taste in his mouth he did not want some incompetent fool botching the scheme exposing the king and others to retribution from the lords of the kingdom. To protect the crown, he knew what he must do.

“There is no need to find another. I will take care of it.”

Rædwald smiled and said, “Good I do not wish to speak of this again until the deed is done.”

Rædwald finished his wine. He placed the goblet on the table and filled it with the pitcher. Ealdmund waited until the king was finished and he too filled his goblet. Rædwald took a long sip.

Rædwald held the goblet in his lap and looked at the wine in it. “I truly miss the French wine we once received from King Renaud. Our monks do well but it is not the same.”

Ealdmund finished his sip and replied, “A shame that Nicolas is not of the same mind as his father when it comes to friends.”

Rædwald nodded and took another sip. Holding the goblet in his right hand and resting it on the arm of the chair he looked at Ealdmund and asked, “Were my condolences expressed to the new Chief of Ulaidh on the passing of Garalt?”

Ealdmund was growing weary of being both Spymaster and Chancellor. Too often lately Strula has fled to his manor in Macclesfield every time he perceived a threat to his life. Prince Hlothere, Steward of the kingdom was fighting a war against King Ælfgar and therefore was not able to assist in matters of diplomacy at the present. Rædwald would never allow Beorhthelm, the Court Chaplin, to leave for a diplomatic mission as long as he was the Court Physician. Emrys who was perhaps as good a diplomat as he was a marshal was busy leading the war. That left Ealdmund.

Ealdmund finished his sip of wine and replied, “Yes, Sire. I met with Chief Eláir expressing your condolences, sympathies, and prayers for the soul of his nephew.”

Rædwald grinned. He knew of Ealdmund’s dilemma over performing diplomatic missions but appreciated Ealdmund’s loyalty, “I thank you for going beyond your duties for the sake of the kingdom.”

Ealdmund smiled and nodded, “As always I am your man.”

Rædwald returned the smile and lifted his goblet in a toast. Ealdmund reciprocated the toast.

Rædwald asked, “What do make of this Eláir?”

Ealdmund sat further back on the stool and placed the goblet on the table. He stroked his beard as he thought for a moment as he tried to find the right words.

“He is a proud man who is said to be charitable and patient to and with his people. There are those who say that he has always been envious of his nephew becoming chief instead of him.”

Rædwald chuckled, “Nothing out of the ordinary then. Will he present any problems?”

Ealdmund reached for his goblet and replied, “I doubt it, Sire. He is skilled tactician and was Marshal under Garalt. He is primarily a solider.”

Rædwald sipped his wine and nodded. A devilish grin appeared, “Any vices?”

Ealdmund returned the grin knowing Rædwald was fishing for leverage over Eláir, “It is said he is chaste.”

Rædwald cocked an eye brow, “Since when is being chaste a vice?”

It was Ealdmund’s turn to chuckle, “It is if the reason is because of your preference.”

Rædwald’s grin turned to a full smile, “Yes I can see that.”

Both men laughed as they drank.

Rædwald placed his goblet on the table and Ealdmund took his and rested it on his lap. In a bitter voice the king said, “What is the word from Rome? I expect any day to find a papal envoy at my tent flap begging for money for the new Holy Father.”

Ealdmund responded, “I believe it will be some time before a papal representative from Rome arrives here.”

Intrigued Rædwald asked, “What makes you think so?”

Ealdmund finished his wine and placed the cup on the table and grinned. Displaying his knowledge of events, places, and people is what he truly relished.

“According to my sources the transition from the late Pope Honorius II to Pope Gregorius V has been anything but pleasant. The election was contentious and filled with infighting. The conclave took several weeks before a deal between the German, Occitan, and Venetian cardinals elected Gregorius. Before being elected Gregorius was Prince-Archbishop Manfred of Bremen. Many of the Italian cardinals resent a German especially one who is considered a puppet of King Karl III of East Francia being elected.”

Rædwald scratched his beard, “If the German is pope what can the Italians do? Is it not God’s will that he was elected?” A sinister grin came to the king’s lips. He shared his father and grandfather’s skeptical opinion of the papacy. Too often he felt the popes were more concerned with their earthly existence and not the welfare of their flock.

Ealdmund laughed at the king and his sarcasm. “It is not just the cardinals who are upset. It is also the rulers of Italy. From all the signs my sources have uncovered King Berardo II of Italy is preparing to launch a war for the County of Florenz against the Papacy. At least that is what the stated reason will be, but the true reason is to curtail the German cardinals and prevent the election of another German as Cardinal Leopold of Osnabrück is the Perferatus.”

Rædwald smirked, “The pettiness of men is why I like my father and grandfather do not put much trust in the so-called Vicar of Rome.”

Ealdmund smiled and said, “There is interesting news from Dyflinn.”

Rædwald raised his eye brows. The king had a claim on the county and if not for the war with Scotland he would have acted upon it by now. He would have to fight a war with the Kingdom of Svea Rike meaning that the much of the war would be fought in Scandinavia, far from Jorvik.

The king asked, “What news would that be?”

Ealdmund smile grew, “Chief Suni of Dyflinn is no longer a vassal of King Snorri of Svea Rike. Snorri and several powerful vassals were not fond that under their elective system for choosing a king Chief Suni was the leading candidate. These vassals convinced Snorri to grant Dyflinn its independence. Apparently having a king who is possessed did not sit well with the lords of Svea Rike.”

Rædwald chuckled, “That is interesting. We will not have to battle in faraway places.” Then an unpleasant thought came to Rædwald, “Other than myself who has a claim to Dyflinn?”

Ealdmund knew he would be asked this question, “None of any importance. There are several Scandinavian chiefs who hold claims. They are, however, small and insignificant.”

Rædwald still was worried, “Once this war is done we must move quickly on Dyflinn before someone like King Ælfgar fabricates a claim.”

Ealdmund nodded. “Yes, Sire.” Since he had discussed all the topics he had come to discuss he was readying himself to leave.

Rædwald, however, was not finished and asked, “Is it true that my sister Judith is with child?”

Ealdmund had to think for a moment. Judith who was also Ealdmund’s sister had once been his ward but after her marriage to the late Æthelweald son of the late Count Eadgar of Northampton he had lost track of her life. After a few minutes he did recall a report he had seen.

“I believe she is.”

Rædwald sighed and anger flickered in his eyes, “First she marries Earl Harold of Leicester and now she bears his child. Most disappointing.”

Ealdmund knew that Harold had been bothersome of late with creating and joining factions. He expressed his displeasure with the king to any who would listen. However, he had not crossed the line and done something that could be considered traitorous. Ealdmund truly wished he would cross that line, so he could be dealt with.

Ealdmund responded, “I too harbor disappointment in her new husband but after the death of her first husband she was a member of the court of Earl Wulf of Northampton and he made the choice of her husband.”

Rædwald looked at Ealdmund and said, “Earl Harold must be watched. We do not need him to become too bothersome.”

Ealdmund nodded, “That is true, Sire.

Rædwald was pleased with the meeting and said, “You are free to go Duke Ealdmund.”

Ealdmund stood and said, “Thank you, milord.” He bowed and then turned and began walking out of the tent and suddenly stopped. He turned and looked at Rædwald.

Fearing there was something amiss Rædwald asked, “Is there something more?”

Ealdmund frowned at first but then smiled, “Yes, milord.”

Rædwald prepared himself for bad news and asked, “What is this news that makes my Spymaster stop in his tracks?”

Ealdmund chuckled, “No, Sire, it is not bad. It concerns your cousin and former Queen of Scotland, Guðrun.”

Rædwald was still unsure and asked, “What of Guðrun? Last, I had heard she no longer resided in Scone. She married Edward of Galloway, who is Marshal of Tyrconnell.”

Ealdmund rubbed the back of his neck and replied, “Yes she did marry Edward. However, before doing so she gave birth to the twin sons of the late King Ewan. The oldest Gilchrist is now Tanist of Scotland. His younger brother Robert may not see many more days. He is sick with consumption and may not make it until the end of year.”

Relieved Rædwald responded, “I am glad for Guðrun. She deserved better.”

In the back of Ealdmund’s mind an annoying memory came to the forefront. It was Rædwald who had sent her off to marry Ewan and put her in the position she is currently in.

Ealdmund nodded and said, “By your leave.”

Rædwald smiled and said, “If there is truly nothing more then you may depart.”

Ealdmund bowed and said, “Thank you, Sire.” The spymaster turned and left the tent. When Rædwald stood and walked to see where Ealdmund had gone it seemed as if the spymaster had just vanished.

Pleased Rædwald stepped back into his tent and called for his squire and other servants to help him prepare for the coming march to Scone.

 

[tpmcinty]

22 February 1020 Scone, County of Gowrie, Kingdom of Scotland

The great hall of the manor was small and cramped compared to the halls where ceremonies such as this were normally held. The fires in the hearths were roaring keeping the cold and dampness that prevented the ceremony from occurring outdoors at bay. At one end of the hall a dais with a throne upon had been constructed. Behind the throne the banners of Kingdom of Jorvik and the House of Hvitserk hung prominently. Adorning the remaining wall space were the banners of the Duchy of Deheubarth, the Barony of Warwick, and the City of Scarborough for the commanders of the Jorvikian forces. Along with Jorvikian banners those of the County of Tír Eoghain, the Chiefdom of Ulaidh, and the Petty Kingdom of Connachta hung for the allies present with the army.

The banner of the Petty Kingdom of Mide was among the other banners even though Queen Crístina was not in attendance. The queen was in York preparing Hextilda for her betrothal ceremony. In a few weeks Crístina and Hextilda would travel to the court of King Refr of Norge in Reykjavik. The daughter of the late Earl Æthelweald of Gloucester had been betrothed to the son of King Refr, Prince Halkjell.

Her Taran soldiers, however, remained behind under the direct command of her husband. The banner honored them.

A table was placed at the foot of the dais. Scribes worked feverishly on the documents laid out on it. Finally satisfied the scribes stepped away from the table leaving the documents and several quills and ink wells.

Rædwald waited in a room off the great hall that had been used by the previous occupant of the manor as a private audience chamber. The room was small containing a large desk and several high back chairs. A large tapestry depicting a Scottish victory over some Norse raiders hung on the wall. Rædwald chuckled, here he was the direct descendant of the greatest Norse raider looking at a scene of the Scottish defeating his ancestors while he waited to accept the Scottish king’s surrender. Perhaps God did possesses a sense of humor.

Rædwald sat in one of the chairs behind the desk. Emrys sat in another chair before the king. Ealdmund leaned on the back of the remaining chair. Beorhthelm stood in the doorway waiting for a signal telling that the Scottish king was close.

A game of honor, willpower, and saving face was playing itself out. King Uhtred of Scotland was late. By being late he was forcing Rædwald to wait for him thus showing strength to his nobles that he was not at the beckoning call of the Jorvikian king. Rædwald had no choice but to wait. Any reaction could be taken as a weakness. However, Rædwald did hold the ultimate coup. Uhtred was coming to him in defeat and to accept his lot as Rædwald’s tributary. In that the true power rested.

Rædwald looked at Ealdmund and said, “My dear Duke of Powys you must learn to partake in the joys of the moment. Scone has fallen and thusly we have won the war.”

Ealdmund tried to smile and replied, “I ask for your forgiveness, milord, for dampening the mood but I am suspicious and cautious by nature.”

Rædwald smiled, “Those traits are what makes you a most effective spymaster for us.”

Ealdmund bowed in gratitude and replied, “Thank you, Sire.”

Rædwald continued to smile and said, “Uhtred is beaten. His armies are crushed, and his castles and towns taken.” Rædwald looked at Emrys for support, “All went as planned.”

Emrys leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs and began, “Remember in October Mayor Uhtræd of Scarborough took St. Moluag. Uhtræd then moved to the Argyll Clan and conquered them by the end of November.

Ealdmund looked at Emrys and said, “Even after suffering defeats on the battlefield and the loss of their cities they still managed to raise another army.”

Emrys grinned, “Only 600 men.”

Ealdmund stopping leaning on the back of the chair and stood straight. “Nevertheless, they marched on our garrison at St Andrews.”

Emrys was getting annoyed, “Yes they did and Mayor Ríán of Dún Bhun na Gaillimhe and his army of Jorvikians, Munsterians, and Ulsterians dispatched them to a man.

Ealdmund glared at Emrys and asked, “What of those other battles fought while we sat here?”

Emrys gripped the arms of the chair and replied, “You speak of a raid on Chief Eláir as he returned from Ulaidh traveling to the front near Dunblane as a battle. At least at Ellon they had almost 500 against Ríán and his two thousand.”

Rædwald knew he had let the dispute go long enough and spoke, “Emrys did an excellent job conducting the war.” He turned and looked at Ealdmund, “Lord Ealdmund you will find this source of suspicion and root it out.”

Ealdmund nodded.

Just then Beorhthelm called from the doorway, “The Scottish king draws near.”

As word spread the Scottish king and his party were close the nobles began to file into the hall taking their places. As they did so they left an aisle from the door to the throne. First to enter were the allied lords. Earl Cathal of Tír Eoghain was the first to enter along with several of his advisors. Chief Eláir of Ulaidh with his entourage followed. Mayor Ríán of Dún Bhun na Gaillimhe lead the Munsterian delegation as King Natfraich remained in Connachta. Lastly the Taran representatives took their places along the what would be the king’s left.

After the allies were settled the Jorvikian lords arrived. Frist to take their places were the commanders. Mayor Uhtræd of Scarborough lead, followed by Bishop Wistan of Burton, Bishop Bulði of Worcester, and Baron Vagn of Warwick. Several lords who had not taken part in the fighting directly, namely Earl Eadwine of Cumberland, Duke Hlothere of Mann, and Earl Harold of Leicester trailed the commanders. The Jorvikians lined to the right of the throne.

A few moments later Beorhthelm entered from a side door and took his position to the left of the throne. Next Emrys and Ealdmund walked into the hall and stood next to the right of the throne. The three Councilors then ceremoniously moved to the steps of the dais.

When all was ready Beorhthelm cried out, “All hail, Rædwald Hvitserk, King of Jorvik.”

Rædwald came into the hall wearing his regal robes over his armor, and his crown. Several attendants came behind him. One carried the king’s sword, another the scepter of the kingdom, and a third with the orb. Once in the hall all present bowed. The king ascended the dais. Once before the throne he stopped and turned to face the audience. An attendant held his robe as Rædwald sat upon the throne. An attendant handed the king the sword. The king took the sword and placed it on his lap. Next, he was handed the scepter which he held with his right hand. Lastly, he was given the orb in his left hand. The attendants bowing walked backwards down the steps. At the bottom of the dais they stopped. Beorhthelm clapped and everyone stood up straight.

Rædwald nodded and Beorhthelm called out, “Enter, he who has business before the King of Jorvik.”

Rædwald sat on the throne holding the symbols of his kingship smirking. Uhtred would see him in all his power and glory. The Scottish king would now know his place.

There was a commotion at the rear of the hall. A voice rang out, “Uhtred Mac Ailpin, King of Scotland.”

Uhtred appeared at the rear of the hall. He wore a yellow tunic with the red lion herald of Scotland embroidered on the chest over his armor. A simple crown sat upon his head. He walked slowly down the aisle toward Rædwald. The Scottish king was followed by his Chancellor, Earl Stephan of Strathearn; and his Court Chaplin Bishop Gilbride of Iona.

Uhtred reached the table before the dais. He looked down at the document and then at Rædwald. If he was impressed by Rædwald’s display, he did not show it. There was no bow or other sign of respect given by either king.

After a few tense moments of silence Uhtred said, “Let’s get this over with.”

Rædwald glared at Uhtred and said, “Yes,” and looked at Beorhthelm.

Beorhthelm looked at Uhtred and asked, “Uhtred, King of the Scottish do you accept the terms of surrender?”

Uhtred narrowed his eyes and growled, “Yes.”

Beorhthelm asked, “Do you recognize King Rædwald as your suzerain and swear allegiance to him?”

Uhtred looked at Rædwald with all the hate he could muster, “Yes.”

Glaring back at Uhtred Rædwald said, “Then swear here before God and those present.”

Somewhere Uhtred found more hate and malice and projected it through his eyes and at Rædwald. He quickly uttered the oath.

A scribe handed Uhtred a quill and the Scottish king signed the documents. Wax was melted and Uhtred sealed the documents. Finished he stepped back and continued glaring at Rædwald.

Rædwald handed the sword, scepter and orb to his attendants. He rose leaving the royal robe draped over the back of the throne. Methodically he walked across the dais and down the steps. Once at the table a scribe offered him a quill and Rædwald signed and sealed the documents.

One document was rolled up and presented to Uhtred who indicated it should be given to Earl Stephan. The Chancellor took the document. Without saying a word Uhtred turned and stormed out of the hall.

As Uhtred turned he looked at Gilbride. Ealdmund caught a glimpse of the two men grinning at one another.

Ealdmund turned to Emrys and asked, “Did you see that?”

Emrys looked oddly at Ealdmund and asked, “See what?”

Ealdmund pointed at the departing Scottish party, “They were grinning at one another.”

Emrys looked confused, “Grinning?”

Ealdmund nodded and replied, “I tell you there is something afoot.”

A moment later Ealdmund and Emrys were following Rædwald out of the hall. Just before he exited Emrys looked at where the Scottish had departed. Was the spymaster finally losing his mind. However, Emrys could not shake the feeling that something was amiss. Uhtred did seem to be overacting for some reason. Emrys shook his head and left the hall.

*****

Spymaster Earl Stephan of Tyrconnell, and Marshal Earl Malmure of Oriel waited for the arrival of Uhtred and his companions. The Counselors looked at the broken walls, one in awe at the destruction and the other with professional respect.

Stephan shook his heads, “Amazing to see the damage wrought by those barbarians.”

Malmure shook his head at Stephan’s prejudice, “The Jorvikians are very adept at warfare, far better than we anticipated at the start of this foolish war.”

Stephan looked shocked at the marshal’s remarks, “Careful how you speak dear marshal. One may think you did not lead well on purpose.”

Malmure glared at Stephan, “I would be careful of how you refer to the Jorvikians and the Norse. Do you forget that the Tanist is half Norse?”

Stephan smirked, “I have not and many others do not. I worry not about a young boy who may or may not become king.”

Malmure was about to retort when the king and his companions came into view. Malmure decided to allow the subject to pass for now.

The king reached the waiting men. The groups exchanged greetings.

Stephan of Tyrconnell asked, “How did the ceremony play out?”

Uhtred smiled, “The arrogant bastard did as we had expected. All pomp and circumstances trying to intimidate us.”

Uhtred then looked seriously at the spymaster and asked, “You are sure this will work?”

Tyrconnell nodded, “Yes, milord it will.”

Uhtred then looked at Malmure and asked, “What are your feelings marshal?”

Malmure looked grave, “While the Spymaster and I rarely agree this is something that I do. It was the only way to get the lords to agree to the surrender.”

Uhtred sighed and said, “I pray you are correct.” Looking again at Malmure he asked, “You are certain a year.”

Malmure nodded, “Yes, Sire, a year maybe a year and a half but no more.”

Uhtred smile, “That is good.”

The king then directed his horse toward the city gates.