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

[tpmcinty]

Chapter 7.15

April 1020 York

Strula walked slowly along the corridor toward the council chambers. Being several months since he had last been at court he was not sure how he would be received. The latest plot in a long string of plots had taken some time to thwart. He knew enemies watched him at every turn whether they were jealous of him being Chancellor or wish to seek revenge on him for some task he had performed for the king.

He came to a stop at the open chamber doors. He peeked into the room. Ealdmund sat in one of the chairs at the large council table in the center of the chamber. The spymaster was reading some documents. Several lay in his lap and others on the table. Rædwald stood leaning on the table. The king was examining maps on the table. He moved several out his way and picked up one to look at it more closely. From his spot at the door Strula could see it was a map of Ireland.

Sensing that someone was watching Rædwald put down the map and turned to the door. Grinning he said, “Strula. Is that you hiding in the shadows? Come hither you are welcome here.”

Strula stepped out from behind the door frame. Ealdmund smiled broadly and said, “It is good to see you, old friend.”

Strula returned the smile. The two men had known one another for many long years and had been on council together for some time. The two had shared many crises and triumphs over the long years.

The Chancellor walked from the door to the king. At the king he bowed and said, “At your service, Sire.”

Rædwald motioned for his to rise, “As always. I offer my gratitude in you responding to my summons quickly.”

Strula stood straight and replied, “I have always been your man, milord.”

Rædwald looked at Strula through squinting eyes thinking, when it is convenient you are. You have not answered our summons for several months prior. Rædwald’s tolerance for Strula’s behavior of fleeing to his manor at the slightest whim of a plot was waning.

Rædwald directed Strula to a seat. The Chancellor took a seat in the chair indicated. The king offered Strula wine, “This not the good French wine we once grew accustomed to. It is a local vintage and is quite tolerable.”

A servant brought Strula a cup. At the same time the servant refilled the king’s cup and the spymaster’s cup. Strula takes a sip. As Rædwald described it not great but it good. Strula said, “It is far better than anything I have had recently. Our grapes in Chester are just too sour and ruin the taste.”

Rædwald and Ealdmund nodded their agreement.

Rædwald turned to Strula after taking a sip of wine and said, “Prior to you joining us, we were discussing our half-sister, Judith.”

Strula placed his cup on the table and stated, “She is now married Earl Harold of Leicester.”

Rædwald nodded, “Yes to our disappointment.”

Strula asked, “Is not Harold campaigning for a reestablishment of Gavelkind Succession.”

Ealdmund finished drinking some wine and said, “Yes, He is a faction of one.”

Rædwald smirked, “He is barely a nuisance for now, but we must watch him closely.” Turning to Strula he said, “I will ask you, Chancellor on your next tour of the kingdom to pay special attention to the Earl of Leicester and see if you can alter his misdirected path.”

Strula responded, “Of course, milord as you wish.”

Rædwald smiled and said, “I knew I could rely upon you to do what is required.”

Strula became apologetic and said, “I beg your forgiveness you were speaking of Judith and I lead you on a different conversation.”

Rædwald took a sip of wine, and said, “We needed to discuss Earl Harold.” He then looked at Ealdmund.

Ealdmund also took a drink and responded, “Judith gave birth to a daughter whose was named Wulfrun. The child is now heir to the County.”

Strula lifted his cup from the table and took a sip and with a slight grin, “And how does the good Earl of Leicester fare these days?”

Rædwald acted as if surprised by Strula’s question, “What do you infer my dear Chancellor?”

Strula grinned sinisterly and replied, “I mean no ill intent toward the earl. It is just the last time I visited him he was depressed. His hunchbacked condition weighed heavily on his mind as did the opinion of several physicians who stated with certainty due to his condition he could not sire any children.”

Rædwald raised his eye brows and looked at Ealdmund. The spymaster gave a knowing smile. The king returned his gaze to Strula thinking Damn, you can be rather cold blooded and bold. With a slight edge to his voice the king responded, “Do you suggest something about my sister Judith?”

Without any sign that he may have crossed a line Strula replied, “No, milord. She has given no indication that she has been anything other than entirely faithful.”

Rædwald took a sip of wine and said, “We shall not speak of this again.” The king again looked at Ealdmund and could see the spymaster was already thinking of ways to leverage such thoughts and information.

Rædwald put his cup down and motioned for a servant to refill the cup. Quickly and efficiently a servant not only refilled the king’s but also the other counselors. Once the servant was finished Rædwald asked, “What of Duke Hlothere of Mann and his idea that the Council should have more power?”

Ealdmund shrugged his shoulders, “Another nuisance of no consequences. A mere gnat.”

Rædwald took a sip of wine and looked at Ealdmund and said, “Do not become over confident. One gnat is no problem, but many gnats can drive a horse crazy.”

Ealdmund nodded as he sipped his wine, “Yes, milord, we shall be ever diligent.”

Strula took a long drink of wine and fidgeted in his seat. Rædwald noticed and said, “Chancellor it appears that you have something on my mind.”

Strula looked as if he was in pain and it took him a moment to speak. Rædwald thought to hurry him up, “Well out with it, man.”

Strula took another drink from his cup and placed it on the table. “Your treatment of the papal representative during his recent visit may not have been appropriate.”

Rædwald annoyed that his actions were being questioned replied, “You speak of Gerolamo di Chiaramonte, the so-called Chancellor of the Holy See?”

Strula nodded, “Yes, Sire. You were how do I say it rather abrupt with him.”

Rædwald laughed, “Abrupt. I should have run him out of the kingdom at the point of a spear. As many times as, he has been in attendance at my father’s court and mine he should know that arrogance and disrespect will not be tolerated.”

Strula was somewhat fearful, “He is still the representative of the Holy Father.”

Rædwald now truly annoyed and on the verge of yelling at Strula, “The only time he crawls out from under whatever scared rock he dwells under is to come here and demand gold from us and to take credit for what we have been doing for many years without Rome’s assistance.”

Strula was growing worried about the king’s continuing dislike of the pope, “The priests do work in the hospitals of Amounderess.”

Seeing Rædwald was about to explode Ealdmund stepped in and responded, “Yes they do because it is God’s work. And who do think pays for the supplies they use and who built the hospitals and maintains and expands them. It is the king. Why should he pay the pope for something he is already paying for?”

Strula backed down but replied, “I understand but it still troubles me.”

Somewhat calmer Rædwald grinned and said, “Do not trouble yourself. Pope Gregorius V will never excommunicate me. Doing so would be disastrous for his coffers. Excommunicating me places the entire kingdom under the decree. He would lose our annual royal donations and the gold collected by the bishops of the kingdom. How then could he afford his lifestyle that he has grown accustomed to as Holy Father?” A smirk was very prominent on the king’s face.

Not fully convinced Strula wisely decided to let the matter rest.

Rædwald finished his wine and placed his cup on the table. This time he did not request additional wine. Speaking to both Ealdmund and Strula he asked, “Has my brother the absent Steward of the kingdom responded to his summons?”

Ealdmund and Strula looked at each other hoping the other would answer. Finally, Strula responded, “No.”

Strula desperately looked at Ealdmund hoping the spymaster would come to his rescue.

Without any outward sign of emotion Rædwald asked, “The summons was delivered?”

Strula swallowed fearing what could be coming next, “Yes, sire.”

A hint of annoyance appeared in the king’s voice, “Then where is he?”

Strula flashed a cry for help to Ealdmund. At this point the spymaster agreed and felt he should takeover, “He claims that the war with England is requiring his presence in Gwynedd.”

Eye brows raised Rædwald responded, “The war requires his presence? A war he is losing badly? A war he should have won six months ago.”

Ealdmund did not wish to defend Hlothere but he also did not want to damn him, “Once the Galicians landed he was greatly outnumbered.”

Rædwald shook his head, “Excuses, excuses that is all they are. He moved too slowly after capturing Wilton and Ramsbury. He had King Ælfgar beaten. He knew the Galicians may be coming and should have stormed Sarum.”

Ealdmund knew he had to try to reason with the king. The war had severely strained the relationship between the two brothers. Hlothere bore most of the resentment feeling that Rædwald had baited him into the war.

The spymaster said, “The city was too well defended to storm without suffering unacceptable casualties.”

Rædwald’s now reflected his annoyance to the fullest, “He moved too slow after taking Ramsbury and that allowed Ealdmund Osheresson time to reinforce Sarum.”

Ealdmund sighed, “Yes, sire his lack of speed may have contributed to his eventual defeat but as the other wars England was involved in ended more and more of their levies could be brought against Hlothere.”

Rædwald smacked his right fist into his left palm startling Strula who nearly dropped his cup. The king retorted, “He wanted a command and he had one and as before he proved inept. He was out maneuvered by the English and the Galicians being defeated at first at Wilton and then at Taunton. He lost Wilton and Ramsbury and has been pursued across most of his duchy.”

Strula braved a remark, “The Galicians are no longer aiding the English. They have returned to Iberia to fight the heathens.”

With his anger nearing its peak Rædwald became red in the face said, “Even without the Galicians Hlothere’s army was nearly trapped and destroyed at Caernarfon. Did Hlothere take command of his leaderless army when it desperately needed a commander? No, he hid behind the walls of the city and let it be decimated. Now the English besiege Gloucester.”

There was little more to be said on the matter. However, news had reached Ealdmund that perhaps could lessen the bleakness of the situation some.

The spymaster said, “Some additional information has come to me about the battle at Caernarfon.”

Skeptical Rædwald asked, “What information?”

Ealdmund looked at Rædwald and replied, “Oshere Ealdmundsson, father of King Ælfgar and Ealdmund Osheresson, Marshal of England was slain in battle by Mayor Oswulf of Shrewsbury.”

The news did seem to lift Rædwald’s spirits some as the redness faded from his face and smile began to form.

Surprised Strula said, “I did not know Oshere had returned to England.”

Relieved that Rædwald was calming Ealdmund replied, “After his ill-fated attempt to seize the crown of Galicia and spending some time in King Diogo of Galicia’s dungeons he returned to his son’s court and eventually was appointed Court Chaplin and a commander.”

Fully smiling Rædwald said, “We should reward Mayor Oswulf.”

Ealdmund and Strula chuckled.

The smile disappeared and Rædwald became serious, “Since the Steward is absent I must ask both of you to assist in helping to introduce Eadweard to the court.”

Ealdmund smiled broadly and replied, “It would be my pleasure, Sire.”

Strula also smiling answered, “Mine also, Sire. And I would like to take this time to say how impressed I have been with Eadweard and his patience. I have observed him on numerous occasions taking great care to organize and perform the tasks given to him by his tutors.”

Full of pride Rædwald responded, “I shall pass your praise on to him.”

The king smiled and reached for one of the maps on the table. He arranged it to his satisfaction. Curious Ealdmund and Strula stood and walked over to Rædwald, each standing to one side of the king.

Looking down at the map Rædwald said, “Now, Lord Chancellor, the reason for which I summoned you here.”

Strula gazing at the map responded, “I gather since this is a map of Ireland that it involves the Irish.”

Rædwald chuckled, “You are very astute.”

Strula returned the chuckled.

The king pointed to a county and said, “I want a claim to Tuadhmhumhain and I want it before we press our claim on Dyflinn”

Strula stared at the map and nodded, “It shall be done, Sire.”

Rædwald smiled, “It is my pleasure to press both claims at the same time.”

Strula nodded “That is wise. Only have to raise the levies once.”

Pleased Rædwald moved away from the table and was preparing to leave but Ealdmund called him.

The spymaster began, “Sire, there is one last matter to discuss.”

Rædwald stopped and looked at Ealdmund, “What is this matter?”

In his most formal voice Ealdmund said, “We have confirmed the reports that your brother is a drunkard.”

Rædwald looked at Ealdmund out of the corner of his eye. Rædwald long suspected it.

Ealdmund continued, “He has been found several times passed out in his chambers. He has on numerous occasions neglected his duties as Earl of Gwent.”

Rædwald shook his head in disappointment, “He is Emrys’ problem. He is a vassal of the Duke of Deheubarth. Have you spoken to him?”

Ealdmund shook his head no, “I wish to speak with you first.”

Rædwald looked down at his feet. “I thank you for your discretion. You must inform Emrys at the earliest opportunity.”

Ealdmund nodded.

Rædwald smiled, “Now I must see the queen. We have much to do before introducing Eadweard to the court.”

Ealdmund and Strula bowed as the king exited the chambers.

 

[tpmcinty]

May 1020 York

Eadweard and Wulfhelm, son of Prince Hlothere, ran amongst the plants and pathways of the courtyard playing a game of cat and mouse. Out of breath the boys and stopped trying to catch their breaths while laughing. Both leaned forward with their hands on their knees.

Eadweard laughed, “That was fun.”

Wulfhelm feigned anger and replied, “Only because you won.”

The boys laughed. Eadweard stood straight and said, “I am exhausted.”

Wulfhelm straighten up and answered, “What shall we do now?”

Eadweard looked at the sky and the clouds and replied, “Let’s find a place where we can see the clouds and what shapes they take.”

Wulfhelm nodded and smiled. The boys walked off into the courtyard.

Rædwald stood on the balcony overlooking the courtyard frowning. As he watched the boys leave the courtyard he shook his head. Crístina joined him on the balcony. She cuddled up on his arm and said, “It was good while it lasted.”

Rædwald shook his head again and replied, “I have my concerns about him.”

Crístina said, “I seem to remember hearing at his age you were not too active. Your father had to drag you to go hunting and to be outdoors.”

Defensive Rædwald responded, “I spent my time in the library reading history and learning about the world around us. In the arts of war, I knew I was not like my father or grandfather. My skills with a bow were average at best, therefore hunting was frustrating for me. I missed my target far more times than I hit it. In battle my skills with a blade or spear are enough to keep me alive but I would never want to fight one on one.”

Crístina looked worried, “How are Eadweard’s skills?”

Rædwald sighed, “I know not.”

Concern and a flash of anger crossed the queen’s face, “Why do you not know? Is he not attending training or is there something else wrong?”

Rædwald sighed, “He is not always attending weapons training. On several occasions he has been found asleep in his chambers. On few others he was found avoiding the training.”

Crístina stepped away from her husband but still held his hand, “Have you spoken to him?”

Rædwald replied, “Several times. He promises to attend but then a few days later I am told he has missed training again.”

Crístina rubbed her forehead, “Are there other lessons he is missing?”

Rædwald frowned, “I have similar reports from almost all his tutors of the same problem. In addition, they report that when he is in attendance he does not listen and many times but little effort into his lessons.”

Crístina now looked at the courtyard below and asked, “What is being done to impress upon Eadweard that his lessons are important?”

Rædwald turned and looked at his queen and replied, “I hope that the introduction ceremony and what happens afterwards puts a fear of God in him.”

Crístina rubbed her chin and said, “Perhaps I should speak with him. He is also heir of my Petty Kingdom of Mide and I can express my concerns to him.”

Rædwald nodded, “I had hoped you would do so. Perhaps he will listen to you.”

Crístina looked again at the courtyard and then down to floor, “Do you feel that Wulfhelm may be a bad influence upon him?

Surprised Rædwald asked, “Why do you asked?”

Crístina hesitated and then replied, “I know that Wulfhelm is considered lazy by many here and in Anglesey.”

Rædwald thought for a moment and responded, “He could be.”

Crístina frowned, “Perhaps then you should forbid him from seeing Wulfhelm.”

Rædwald became melancholy as he remembered being Eadweard’s age. After a deep breath the king replied, “He needs a friend. This is a very hard age for someone in his place.”

Crístina looked confusingly at Rædwald. Seeing her look Rædwald continued.

“Until I was 12 years old I lived with my mother and siblings in Warwick. For many years King Eilif tried unsuccessfully to convince my mother to move here. Finally stating as crown prince my place was here in court in York my father ordered my mother to either move here with myself and my brothers and sisters if she did not oblige his order then I alone would move from Warwick to York.”

Rædwald paused seemingly remembering something unpleasant. The king continued.

“I came here at age 12 alone. My only friend Hlothere was back in Warwick. Those years before my mother and Hlothere moved here we some of the loneliest I can remember.”

Rædwald looked at Crístina, “I cannot deny him a friend. I cannot make him alone like I was.”

Crístina let go of Rædwald’s hand and caressed his cheek. She smiled, “I understand.”

She turned and walked off the balcony. Just before she exited she turned and gave Rædwald a seductive grin.

Rædwald watched her leave. Alone on the balcony Rædwald again looked over the courtyard hoping to catch a glimpse of Eadweard. Not seeing him he turned and briskly walked off the balcony in pursuit of his wife.

*****

Laughing and playfully pushing one another as they walked down the pathways Eadweard and Wulfhelm came to a sudden stop. Before them on a bench watching the waters dance in the fountain was a girl about their age. By the style and make of her garments she was clearly not one of the daughters of the servants or other workers of the keep.

Wulfhelm grabbed Eadweard by the arm stopping him in his tracks. Wulfhelm seeing that Eadweard was enthralled with the girl leaned over to him and in a low voice asked, “Do you know who that is?”

Without taking his eyes off the girl and shook his and almost inaudibly replied, “No.”

Taking a measure of delight in knowing something his friend did not, Wulfhelm paused. Seeing that Eadweard was becoming anxious for a reply Wulfhelm said, “That is the Countess Katarina.”

Surprised and with a look of disbelief Eadweard said, “So that is the Countess of Hereford.”

Wulfhelm chuckled, “What did you expect of her, green skin and sharp teeth?”

Eadweard looked at Wulfhelm and in a serious tone replied, “The way my father and Ealdmund speak of her, something like that.”

Wulfhelm laughed, “As you can see, she is not.” Wulfhelm rubbed his chin and continued, “Now from I hear her mother and regent Hafrid could be who they were describing.”

Both boys laughed, and their laughter caught Katarina’s attention. She looked shyly at the them. Eadweard blushed and Wulfhelm smiled and waved at her.

Seeing Eadweard’s reaction Wulfhelm grinned and asked, “Shall I introduce you?”

Enthusiastically Eadweard replied, “Yes.”

Wulfhelm chuckled, “Slow down there. She is betrothed to our cousin Wulfstan son of our late Uncle Sigfrið, Earl of Gloucester.”

The boys walked toward Katarina. The countess did her best to pretend she not notice them. When they arrived and stood before her, she looked at Wulfhelm and in a toneless voice said, “Wulfhelm Hlotheresson.”

Wulfhelm replied in his formal voice, “Milady.”

Looking at Eadweard Katarina asked, “Who is your friend?”

Wulfhelm held out his hands toward Eadweard, “This is Eadweard son of Rædwald.”

Katarina smiled, “Ah, the crown prince.” Bowing her head slightly she said, “It is so good to finally meet you.”

Blushing Eadweard stumble through his reply, “The pleasure is all mine.”

Katarina laughed, “You are quite a charmer, cousin.”

Eadweard looked confused. In all his father’s talks about her he never mentioned that she was a cousin.

“Cousin?”

Katarina laughed again, “Did you not learn of your family?”

Eadweard was somewhat embarrassed. He remembered when his tutor spoke of his family history, but he thought it was unimportant, so he did not pay attention. He may have even fell asleep.

Katarina gave Eadweard an odd look and said, “We are both of the House of Hvitserk. Therefore, you realize that we are related to some degree?”

Eadweard stumbled, “I, ah, yes of course.”

Katarina was shocked and disappointed. The future king did not his linage, “Your great grandfather King Sigfrið and my grandfather Prince Totil were brothers making us second cousins once removed.”

Eadweard gave a fake smile and shook his head yes, and replied, “Of course I knew that.”

Katarina gave him a disbelieving look. She was about to reply when the stern voice of woman called out, “Countess Katarina.”

All three froze. Katarina stood and looked passed Eadweard and Wulfhelm. She curtsied and said, “It was nice to meet you, Prince Eadweard, and nice to see you again Wulfhelm.”

She then stepped between the two boys and toward the woman standing on the pathway o the other side of the fountain.

Eadweard began to protest but Wulfhelm stopped him by grabbing his arm. Eadweard glared at Wulfhelm and pushed Wulfhelm’s hand off his arm.

As Katarina walked across the plaza Wulfhelm said in a low voice, “Her mother and Regent, Hafrid.”

Eadweard and Wulfhelm watch Katarina and Hafrid walk out of the plaza. Wulfhelm looked at Eadweard and put his fists on his waist and glared at Eadweard, “I cannot believe you do not know our family history. Even I know it.”

Eadweard shrugged his shoulders. He still didn’t see the importance of it. After a moment Wulfhelm’s mask of seriousness fell off and he began laughing. Eadweard joined in. The two boys continued on their way laughing and slapping one another on the back.

*****

As Katarina and Hafrid walked across the plaza toward the keep Hafrid said, “You have met the Crown Prince. What are your thoughts of him?”

Katarina thought for a moment and then responded, “At first I was intrigued but that view quickly changed.”

Hafrid was curious and asked, “What changed your mind?”

Katarina stopped walking and looked at her mother. “He did not know our family linage. He did not know how we were related. Worst of all he did not care. How can he be king if he does not know and respect his family?”

Hafrid grinned evilly, “Someday he will be your king.”

Katarina stood silent thinking. She looked down at the ground trying to understand the feelings that were washing over her. “Troubles and uncertainty will come to the kingdom when he takes the throne.”

Hafrid smiled and took her daughter by the shoulders and said, “My child you are wise beyond your years.”

Katarina smiled. Rarely did her mother compliment her.

Hafrid continued, “His reign will be like his father’s with greed, mistrust, and deceit. The fruit does not fall far from the tree.”

Confused Katarina looked at Hafrid and said, “I understand not. Under King Rædwald none will challenge us.”

Hafrid frowned realizing her daughter was still young and naïve. No better time than the present for a lesson. “How do you think the kingdom became so strong?”

Katarina replied sheepishly fearing her answer would be wrong, “We have defeated England, Scotland, and the Irish lords in war and through the wisdom of King Rædwald.”

Hafrid almost laughed out load. Her voice dripped with venom as she replied, “It was on the back of your father Sumarliði and his military skills that defeated the revolt of Countess Maria and, defeated the English and the Irish. What was your father’s reward? Nothing. Rædwald did not make him Marshal as he promised many times. He only made your father Earl of Hereford after the other lords pressured him to give your father some type of reward.”

Katarina was confused and concerned, “Why would King Rædwald act in such a manner?”

Hafrid replied quickly and with hatred in her tone, “Jealousy.”

Katarina asked, “Jealousy of what?”

Hafrid leaned into Katarina’s face and replied, “Your father’s success and popularity amongst the nobles.”

Katarina looked down and in low voice said, “I did not know.”

Hafrid stood straight and mockingly asked, “I guess you do not know it was King Rædwald who had your father murdered.”

Katarina looked up at her mother surprised, “I have heard the rumors, but it has never been proven.”

Hafrid shook her head, “I know that Rædwald ordered the deed.”

Katarina asked, “Then why have you not said so publicly.”

Hafrid laughed, “One does not accuse a king lightly especially this one. You are likely to be thrown in the dungeon or found with your throat slit.”

Katarina stared back at her mother with her eyes wide open with shock.

Hafrid continued, “See what has happened to Prince Hjalmar.”

Katarina nodded, “He is in the dungeon here.”

Hafrid looked at Katarina and said, “He spoke out against the poor rule of his brother and was arrested. He will most likely meet an assassin’s blade someday.”

Katarina was shocked, “Do you mean King Rædwald would order his brother killed?”

Hafrid put her right hand on Katarina’s shoulder and replied, “Of course he would. Anyone who dares oppose him will meet an untimely end. There are rumors circulating throughout the kingdom that Rædwald already plots Hjalmar’s death.”

Katarina shook her head as her mother released her shoulder, “It cannot be.”

Hafrid started to walk toward the keep, “I fear it is so. Do you think Eadweard will be any different. He is his father’s son and will follow in Rædwald’s footsteps. The only difference is Eadweard is not as smart as his father. He will bring ruin to the kingdom.”

Walking beside her mother Katarina replied, “Perhaps Eadweard should not become king.”

Hafrid smiled as they entered the keep, “That is truly something to think about.”

 

[tpmcinty]

May 1020 York

As the shadows drew long from the setting sun in the corridor Eadweard ran down the corridor toward the approaching visitor. A few steps from the visitor Eadweard leapt at him ending in hugging the visitor. The visitor smiled as the young prince buried his head in his chest.

Eadweard pulled his head out of the visitor’s chest and with a huge smile said, “Uncle Hlothere you made it!”

Hlothere hugged Eadweard back and said, “I would never dream of missing your formal introduction.”

Eadweard let go of Hlothere saying, “Thank you, thank you.”

Hlothere took Eadweard by the shoulders and pushed him back slightly, “Now let me take a look at you.” Hlothere took his time looking over his nephew and said, “You have grown. You are beginning to look like a man.”

Eadweard blushed and looked at the floor. When he did so Hlothere spotted Rædwald standing in the corridor. The king stood in the shadows with no emotion showing. The smile faded from Hlothere’s face.

Hlothere rustled Eadweard’s hair while not taking his eyes of his brother. “I heard Wulfhelm saying something about trying to see if he could snare a few pastries from the cooks. Why don’t you see if you can help him.”

Eadweard turned and looked at Rædwald who nodded. Eadweard smiled and said, “I will see you later Uncle.” The boy then dashed down the hall.

Hlothere and Rædwald glared at one another for a few moments. Rædwald then stepped into his study which he had been standing outside of. Hlothere slowly followed him and shut the door behind him. Rædwald walked behind his desk and took his seat. Hlothere followed him and sat in one the chairs before the desk. Hlothere crossed his legs and waited.

He did not have to wait long. Rædwald glared at his brother, “I am glad to see that you can finally find the time to answer a royal summons.”

Hlothere sat motionless replying, “My duties as duke prevented me from answering them.”

Rædwald shook his head, “Duties? What of your duties as steward? You have not been present to attend to them for the last year.”

Hlothere uncrossed his legs, “My duties as Duke of Gwynedd have required all of my attention lately. You have seen to that.”

Rædwald looked confused, “How can I see to such a thing?”

Hlothere was growing agitated, “You know how.”

Rædwald sat back in his chair and “I do not know of what you speak. Enlighten me.”

Hlothere gritted his teeth, “The damn war you forced me into.”

Rædwald crossed his arms and replied, “Forced? I did not force you into any war.”

Hlothere threw his arms up, “You made if perfectly clear you wanted a war with Ælfgar. You could not do it without violating your peace treaty with him. Countess Mildrith of Gloucester could not do it, so you thrust it upon me.”

Rædwald uncrossed his arms, “As I remember I did not tell you or order you to go to war against Ælfgar. You volunteered.”

Hlothere glared at his brother, “You are right you did not order me. You just made so if I did not I would look like a coward.”

Rædwald replied, “You may believe that, but it was still your decision.”

Hlothere rolled his eyes, “If I truly had a choice, would have I chosen to fight Ælfgar with just my duchy?”

Rædwald grabbed the edge of the desk, “When you began the war Ælfgar and his levies were battling heathens in Iberia and battling a revolt in Ireland.”

Hlothere sighed, “You know as well as I do, he would never let Wiltshire fall without a fight.”

Rædwald let go of the desk and leaned back, “You had the time to make your position secure before Ælfgar could react. The levies left to defend Wiltshire were those of Duke Eadric of Hwicce.”

Hlothere complained, “There was no time.”

Rædwald shook his head, “You move fast when you should move slow, and slow when you should move fast.”

Hlothere gripped the arms of the chair tightly and leaned forward, “We captured Wilton and Ramsbury quickly, but could not take Sarum.”

Rædwald looked at Hlothere, “The quickness in which you took Wilton and Ramsbury gave me hope you had learned your lesson and had become the commander you should have been. Then you fell back into your old ways and moved too slowly to take Sarum.”

Hlothere gripped the chair more tightly until his knuckles were white. “Sarum was strongly defended. We had to watch our backs as we knew Ealdmund Osheresson was near.

Rædwald said, “All the more reason to take Sarum quickly.”

Hlothere relaxed his grip some and shook his head in frustration, “I did not have the troops to storm the city because the help I had been promised never came.”

Rædwald glared at his brother, “You know as king I could not directly aid you.”

Hlothere stood and walked over to one of the bookcases and looked at the books there, “You abandoned me.”

Rædwald stood and walked to the side of the desk, “No I did not. I sent gold for you to hire mercenaries. Why did you not use it?”

Hlothere turned and faced his brother. Confusion filled his face, “What gold?”

Rædwald was now becoming confused, “I sent enough for you to hire a mercenary company and keep them for several months.”

Hlothere was now thoroughly confused or was this some trick, “I never received any gold. Is this some trick you are trying to remove blame from yourself?”

Rædwald was now concerned, “Perhaps you should ask your Chancellor he handled the transfer. If you do not believe me, I will call Strula and Emrys to confirm what I have said.”

Hlothere shook his head, “No it will not be necessary.” As Steward Hlothere could check the treasury records. If there were an irregularity he would know and Rædwald would be aware that Hlothere would know.

“When I return to Gwynedd, I will investigate what happened to the gold.”

Rædwald walked over to Hlothere. A small reconciliation had just occurred, and both felt some of the tensions lessening between them. Rædwald smiled and patted Hlothere on the shoulder.

“Wine?” asked Rædwald gesturing to the pitcher and goblets on the table near them. Hlothere nodded and Rædwald poured them some wine. He gave a goblet to Hlothere and both took long drinks.

Hlothere asked, “None of the French vintage left?”

Rædwald shook his head, “No. We tried to trade for some with Nicolas without success on several occasions. He is not as free with the wine as his father was.”

“Pity,” replied Hlothere taking another sip.

Rædwald smiled, “There may be hope, Bodil has promised she will get some off her husband and send it to us.”

Hlothere chuckled, “Now that is a good sister.” After another sip Hlothere asked, “How does our brother Hjalmar fare?”

Rædwald leaned against the desk, “He has consumption and by all accounts is out of his mind.”

Hlothere became serious, “If he dies in the dungeons of consumption or some other malady, I see no problem.” He then looked Rædwald right in the eyes and continued, “However, if he dies by some plot or assassination I will not be so forgiving.”

Rædwald chuckled, “Do not trouble yourself. There are no plots here.”

Hlothere smiled and nodded.

Rædwald stood up straight and put his arm around Hlothere’s shoulder. “Now we must bring you to mother.”

Hlothere looked at Rædwald with concern, “How does she fare?”

Rædwald took a deep breath, “The consumption wears on her. She spends most days in beds and rarely leaves her chambers.” He chuckled, “But you know her. Strong as an ox and twice as stubborn as a mule.”

Hlothere chuckled, “That sounds like her.”

The two brothers finished their wine and left the study together.

 

[tpmcinty]

May 1020 York

Eadweard sat in the Crown Prince’s throne to the right of his father’s throne. He looked over at his father. Rædwald, King of Jorvik, the man whose word was law throughout the British Isles. Only England, Cornwall, and a couple of independent Irish counties did not answer to him or pay him tribute. He defied the Pope and published a document detailing science behind the stars and planets contradicting the teachings of Rome. For this they call him Priest-Hater. He survived consumption some say at the cost of his mind. Like his father, Eilif, his grandfather Sigfrið, and great grandfather Knut, Rædwald was one of the most feared kings in Christendom. Eadweard looked at the heraldry of Jorvik embroidered on his father’s white tunic and wondered if he could be the king his father was.

His eyes drifted to the left of his father to see his mother in her blue gown with its gold trim. Not only was she Queen of Jorvik, she was also Queen of the Petty Kingdom of Mide and the colors of her gown reflected this. He was not only heir to the Kingdom of Jorvik but also heir to Mide. One day he would unite the kingdoms.

Eadweard looked down at the black tunic he wore. His gazed centered on the white shirt embroidered on it. The heraldry of the House of Hvitserk from Halfdan the Whiteshirt. The line that went unbroken back to Ragnar Loðbrok.

With his heart sinking Eadweard gazed upon one of the largest gatherings he had ever seen. Fearing all in this throng before him would be introduced individually a lump formed in the crown prince’s throat. His stomach churned as the Court Crier with his staff took his position at the foot of the dais. The echoing sound of the Crier’s metal tipped staff striking the stone floor seemed to suck all the moisture out of Eadweard’s mouth. To his greatest dread the ceremony had officially begun.

Full of trepidation Eadweard was worried that he would do or say something to embarrass himself or worse his parents. Looking at the size of the audience Eadweard grew fearful he would doze off and miss one of his duties as simple as they were. His main duty was to sit at attention and acknowledge each dignitary. He had nothing to say for the most part. His speech as it was would come at the end. For now, he just had to look regal.

The first introductions would be the most awkward for Eadweard. These would be the member’s of the King’s Council, men he had know most of his life.

The Court Crier cleared his throat. The introductions were about to begin. Eadweard stiffened.

“Lord Chancellor, Mayor Strula of Macclesfield.”

No wife!? Eadweard had never realized that Strula was unmarried. He had just assumed since everyone else was that the Chancellor had a wife. Strula had been his father’s faithful and trusted Chancellor since Countess Maria’s Revolt. The mayor had proven his worth time and time again to the crown. However, lately his paranoid at times was getting the best of him. He would flee to his manor and locked himself away until whatever danger he perceived passed,

Strula came to the foot of dais, smiled and bowed. Eadweard returned the smile and nodded his acknowledgement of Strula. The chancellor took his normal position on the steps of the dais.

“Lord Marshal of the King’s Armies Duke Emrys of Deheubarth and the Duchess Ingrid.”

As Emrys and his wife approached Eadweard sadly realized that he had never met Ingrid and was unsure of Emrys’ wife’s name. Much of the time Emrys was away from the duchy Ingrid was his regent. From what Eadweard had learned there were no complaints, and the duchess was considered fair and competent.

Emrys was another who took over his position as a result of Countess Maria’s Revolt. Next to Prince Hlothere Emrys was the most trusted member of the court. His advice was always treated with respect and followed. Eadweard looked at the aging marshal and thought that he showed no signs of the consumption that racked his body. The cure he had undergone recently kept him performing his duties without interruption.

The marshal and his wife approached holding hands. At the bottom of the dais Emrys bowed and Ingrid curtsied. Emrys maintained a stern face which Eadweard tried to mimic. Doing a poor job Emrys grinned at the now blushing prince.

After bowing Emrys kissed his wife of the cheek and took his position on the dais steps. Thier 8-year-old grandson Arthfoddwap ap Padren escorted Ingrid to her place in the gallery. Arthfoddwp, second son of their son and heir to the Duchy of Deheubarth, Padren ap Emrys, was in York being tutored by his grandfather.

“Steward of the Kingdom, Prince Hlothere, Duke of Gwynedd and Princess Tiburge, Duchess of Gwynedd.”

Eadweard’s heart jumped hearing his favorite uncle’s name. The recent troubles between Hlothere and Rædwald had saddened Eadweard. He could see at times his father missed his brother and the strong friendship they had for so many years. Eadweard hoped that once all the wars were done the family would return to the way things were.

Eadweard was uncertain of how he felt about the Princess Tiburge. While she had always been polite and courteous to him Eadweard never felt comfortable around her. She gave off a certain amount of aloofness that disturbed Eadweard. He was glad that when Hlothere was in York she usually remained in Gwynedd acting as regent.

As Emrys and his wife had done Hlothere and Tiburge entered holding hands. Hlothere bowed and Tiburge curtsied. As he bowed Hlothere smiled back Eadweard. Eadweard returned the smile with an even bigger one. Hlothere kissed Tiburge and ascended the steps to his place. Since Wulfhelm was in attendance, he stepped forward and escorted his mother to her spot in the gallery.

“Master of Spies, Duke Ealdmund of Powys and Duchess Ælfthryth.

Ealdmund had become spymaster when Åke Thurfrithsson of the House of Ytra left the position to become Earl of Westmoreland. Åke had replaced the great Count Siweard of Lindsey after his death. Next to Emrys Ealdmund was his father’s most trusted lord. Since the falling out with Hlothere Ealdmund had replaced the prince as the king’s confidant. Ealdmund had gained a well-earned reputation as being one of the best spymasters in western Europe over the years. Unfortunately for him and the king this meant at times Ealdmund had to go into hiding and prevented him from fully performing his duties.

Ælfthryth was his aunt by his grandmother although rumors persisted that King Eilif was her father. His grandmother had never admitted who was Ælfhryth’s father. Eadweard rarely saw his aunt as she spent much of time in Bedford raising her children.

Since she was Ealdmund’s second wife she did not hold much in the way of power in the court in the Duchy of Powys. Earl Sigeræd of Perfeddwlad, Ealdmund’s brother was normally regent. However lately, Dag Ealdmundsson, Ealdmund’s eldest son by his first wife Leofrun ws gaining more power as heir to the Duchy. Eadweard had met Dag on numerous occasions and found him to be a bore and a bully who was always ready to fight over the smallest thing. When he wasn’t fighting, he was obsessed with money.

The spymaster and his wife went through the motions. Both smiled at the crown prince. Eadweard returned those smiles particularly at his aunt. Ealdmund took his place with the other Counselors and his wife was escorted by Dag.

“Court Chaplin Beorhthelm.”

To Eadweard Beorhthelm was something of a mystery. In the midst of the consumption epidemic he had come to the court to assume the role of Court Physician vacated by the execution of Aharon of Mistretta for his mishandling of treating the king which some say left the king mad. When Bishop Wulfgar of Lichfield died from the Great Pox Beorhthelm took on the role of Court Chaplin. Eadweard found it difficult to form an opnion regarding the man they called “the Monk.” He did his duty and little else from what Eadweard could see. He knew that many including his father and mother believed Beorhthelm had cured the king of consumption.

Beorhthelm showed no emotion as he bowed at the prince. The prince returned the lack of emotion with his acknowledgement.

Beorhthelm took the final position of Counselors on the dais steps.

Eadweard took a deep breath. He had survived the first part of the introductions. Next were the dukes and earls who were direct vassals to the king. The proceedings would begin with the dukes and work its way down. Eadweard was not familiar with many of these vassals and as such his father had reminded him that this would be a learning experience.

As before it began with the clang of the Crier’s staff.

“Duke Hlothere and Duchess Ealdgyth of Man.”

Duke Hlothere and his wife were two people that Eadweard had never met in person. He knew from conversations between his father and Ealdmund, Duke Hlothere had been dabbling in factions namely Increasing the Power of the Council. Duke Hlothere was the great-grandson of Earl Siweard of Lindsey, a fact that was said with disappointment as many felt he did his ancestor’s legacy no favors.

The duke and duchess came forward and performed their introduction duties. The entire exchange was formal as this was the first meeting between them. Hlothere and his wife returned to their place in the gallery.

“Duchess Ealhswith of East Anglia and her betrothed Cenfus Offasson”

Since his father treated Ealhswith as inconsequential Eadweard knew almost nothing about her and absolutely nothing about her betrothed Cenfus other than he was 13. Eadweard had overheard Ealdmund caution the king that Ealhswith bore watching since she was becoming more and more friendly with vassals who were known to be odds with the king.

Ealhswith and Cenfus paid their respects and Eadweard returned a formal acknowledgement. They turned and walked back to their spots.

There was an awkward silence for a moment. This would be the place that Prince Hjalmar, Duke of Northumbria would be introduced but he was confined to the dungeons. Eadweard wondered if anyone would be introduced in his place or if the Duchy of Northumbria would be skipped. The answer came with the loud clear voice of the Crier.

“Earl Eadwine of Cumberland and Countess Maria”

Eadweard mentally noted that Eadwine was not referred as Regent of Northumbria even as everyone knew he was. Eadweard had met Eadwine several times in the last year. Eadweard knew he was thought as a competent commander. It was well known throughout the court that the son of Earl Siweard desired to be the next Duke of Northumbria. His desire for the duchy made Rædwald wary of the earl. His wife was a mystery to Eadweard as this was the first time, he ever saw her.

The Earl of Cumberland and his wife bowed and curtsied and return to the gallery.

“Earl Harold of Leicester and Countess Judith.”

Lately Harold had been gaining more and more notoriety due to the earl’s involvement in factions, most recently Gavelkind Succession. While Harold was the only faction member the size of his levies warranted attention.

Judith while being his aunt was now being referred to as a disappointment. She had been married to Æthelweald, son of Count Eadgar of Northampton. Æthelweald died during the consumption epidemic and she married Harold. While the marriage was arranged by her liege Earl Wulf of Northampton since she did not protest, she was now looked upon with disdain.

Harold and Judith came forward and completed their duties at the foot of dais. Judith smiled at her nephew and despite her disfavor with his father Eadweard returned her smile. Harold remained stoic but watched the king out of the corner of his eyes.

“Earl Åke of Westmorland and Countess Kristina”

Åke’s attendance was a surprise to almost everyone present in the hall. Åke had spent the better part of the last two years in hiding from several plots against his life. Most of the plots originated with Skuli, the Spymaster of Hålogaland. Eadweard had never meet the earl or his wife but knew his father was frustrated with him as a result of his hiding.

To all it appeared that Åke came close to running down the aisle to the dais. Kristina had trouble keeping up with him. Åke made a quick bow and Kristina barely finished her curtsies before the earl of Westmorland had turned and headed back. He did not stop but left the hall with his wife following.

Eadweard heard his father mumble in disgust, “Back to hiding. Perhaps I should have him killed.”

Eadweard saw his mother turn and give his father a dirty look as she slapped his hand.

“Countess Katarina of Hereford and Hafrid Vagnsdottir, Regent of Hafrid.”

Katarina and Hafrid curtsied at the bottom of the dais. Eadweard smiled in anticipation of receiving the same from Katarina but he was surprised and disappointed when she looked at him with a stern face. Hafrid shot a quick glance at Eadweard and then glared at Rædwald until they turned to go back to their assigned place.

Sitting in the throne for the entire morning was making Eadweard uncomfortable. His body was stiffening, and no amount of fidgeting could relieve the discomfort. Eadweard looked over at his father in desperation. Rædwald sensing his son’s impatience leaned over and in a low voice said, “This is the worst part of being king. Sitting here in formal court.”

Eadweard tried to smile and said, “My rear end hurts.”

Rædwald almost burst out laughing but controlled himself. “It is almost over. There is a baron and then the bishops.”

Eadweard almost fainted. Rædwald again smiled, “Don’t worry the bishops will all be announced together.”

Eadweard nodded. He was beginning to wonder if he would ever be able to sit again without pain.

“Baron Vagn and Baroness Helena of Warwick”

Eadweard knew Vagn from the war council he attended during the Scottish Tribute War. He also knew his father consider Vagn to be an excellent and trustworthy commander. Few in the court including Eadweard and his father had met Vagn’s new wife. His former wife had perished in the Camp Fever epidemic. First thing Eadweard noticed about her was she was half the age of the baron.

As Vagn and Helena completed their introduction Eadweard was thinking it is almost over.

“Bishop Eastmund of St Peters, Bishop Eormenric of Furness, Bishop Cynehelm of Halton, Bishop Wistin of Burton, Bishop Sæbert of Lichfield, and Bishop Buðli of Worcester.”

Of the bishops Eadweard only knew Wistin and Buðli and only from their roles as commanders. He had spoken with Buðli on many occasions when the Bishop of Worcester was visiting York. Wistin had taken Eadweard on a tour of the siege lines around Cupar when the young prince visited there during the Scottish war.

The six bishops approached and bowed. Together they offered a short blessing for Eadweard. Eadweard nodded and the bishops returned to the gallery.

Once the bishops were back in their places Rædwald and Crístina stood and held hands. Rædwald looked out over the audience, smiled, and said, “To the Lords and Ladies, Bishops, and people of Jorvik we present our son and heir Prince Eadweard Rædwaldsson Hvitserk.”

As the audience broke out in cheers Eadweard broke out in a full blush. Rædwald let the cheering go on for a few moments and then signaled the Crier. The Crier banged the end of staff on the floor until the din quieted.

The moment that Eadweard had been dreading most of life was now upon him. His father and mother looked at him and smiled. Eadweard rallied all his courage and stood on wobbly legs. He then stepped to the edge of dais and took a deep breath and found his mouth dry and his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. He worked up some saliva to moisten his mouth and said, “Lords, Ladies, Bishops, and people of the Kingdom of Jorvik I thank you for your honors and well wishes.”

Eadweard breathed a huge sigh of relief. It was finally over and he had survived. Proud, he stood taller than he had before.

The gallery erupted into the cry of “Long live the Crown Prince.”

Eadweard stood on the dais wondering if anyone could see him blushing.

 

[tpmcinty]

Chapter 7.16

January 1021 Anglesey

Ealdmund used a piece of bread to sob up the last of the juices from his supper. He put the bread in his mouth, chewed it, and swallowed. He washed it down with some ale. He looked across the table at his host Prince Hlothere who too was finishing his meal. Servants quickly cleared the plates and refilled the prince and spymaster’s cups with ale.

Ealdmund burped and wiped crumbs from his short beard, “I thank you prince. That is the best meal I have had in quite some time.”

Hlothere chuckled, “Just a plain simple meal.”

Ealdmund drank some ale, “It may have been simple to you, but to me it is mana from heaven. I have been eating in taverns, and meals that I cooked myself from whatever I could catch as I traveled through Ireland these last months.”

Hlothere sighed, “My brother still plans to pursue his ambitions in Ireland I take it.”

Ealdmund nodded, “Once Strula gets him a claim to Tuadhmhumhain he will.”

Hlothere shook his head, “Another war, just what is unneeded.”

While Ealdmund may have agreed he did not express his opinion. He asked instead, “How goes the war with King Ælfgar?”

Hlothere sat back in his chair and took a long drink of ale, “Not good at all. The English have taken Gloucester and now besiege Cirencester.”

Ealdmund felt bad for Hlothere, “What are your plans?”

Hlothere gave a half grin, “Look for an honorable way to end the war.”

Ealdmund asked, “Any luck?”

Hlothere shook his head, “Ælfgar is not interested in a white peace. He only wants to embarrass Rædwald and I am the means to do so.”

Ealdmund could only nod. Hlothere was in a no-win position of waiting for the English king to offer terms to the end the war.

Trying to offer some reassurance Ealdmund said, “You may get terms sooner than later.”

Hlothere looked questioningly at Ealdmund and asked, “How would that come to be?”

Ealdmund grinned, “My sources tell me that King Uhtred of Scotland wishes to recover one of the counties that Scotland lost to England.”

Hlothere replied quickly, “The sooner the better.”

Ealdmund thought for a moment about discussing that since Uhtred was tributary he could call on Rædwald to aid him as an ally. That would dash Hlothere’s hopes. Another day perhaps but not today.

Ealdmund now had a question he had to ask reluctantly, “Have you found the missing gold from the gift your brother sent?”

Hlothere mood darkened, “No not as of yet.”

Ealdmund had discovered where the gold went but again it was information that the times demand he withhold from Hlothere. To keep Hlothere from knowing the truth Ealdmund distracted him, “I can offer assistance if you wish it.”

Hlothere looked at the spymaster and replied, “Not at this time.” The last thing the Duke of Gwynedd wanted was Ealdmund’s spies loose in his duchy.

Each duke took several sips of ale and both had a servant refill their cups. Ealdmund held his cup up in a salute and said, “I congratulate you on the birth of your son. Cedric is his name?”

Hlothere raised his cup in acknowledgement and replied, “Yes, it is Cedric.”

Ealdmund took a sip of ale and said, “I pray that mother and son are well.”

Hlothere smiled, “They are both faring well. No illnesses such as we had with Maud.”

Ealdmund asked, “And Maud?”

Again, Hlothere smiled, “You would never know now four years after her birth that she was born sickly and she was almost called to God several times.”

Ealdmund smiled, “You and your family are truly blessed.”

Hlothere lifted his cup and gestured his thanks to Ealdmund. Ealdmund returned the gesture.

Hlothere sipped some ale and asked, “Any word from court?”

Ealdmund frowned, “I have received word the queen is ill.”

Concern filling his face Hlothere asked, “Ill? What of?”

The frown deepening Ealdmund responded, “Pneumonia.”

Hlothere shook his head and said, “That is not good. What is her prognosis?”

Ealdmund took some ale and replied, “From what I have been told it is unknown.”

Somberly Hlothere said, “I shall pray for her recovery.”

Ealdmund nodded, “As we all do.”

Hlothere took an exceptionally long drink of ale, “What have you heard of the rumors Rædwald will declare Norse as the culture of the realm?”

Ealdmund sighed and leaned back in his chair, “it is something that he has spoken of many times. He feels that while using the Anglo-Saxon names and titles seem to be the right thing at the time it is no longer appropriate. He has expressed that it dishonors your ancestors.”

Hlothere took a deep breath, “He would.” He took a sip of ale. “When will he make the announcement?”

Ealdmund shrugged his shoulders, “I know not.”

Hlothere drained his cup and waited for it to be refilled.

“How does my brother, Hjalmar, fare?”

Ealdmund now took a long draught from his cup and swallowed loudly. “The consumption eats at his body while the madness eats at his mind.”

Hlothere starred into his cup as he swirled the ale. Still looking down at the cup he raised his eye brows and said, “I have heard talk of a plot to kill him.”

Ealdmund took a drink and replied, “Such unfounded rumors always surround a prisoner such as Hjalmar.”

Hlothere looked at Ealdmund and asked, “Then there are no plots?”

Ealdmund returned Hlothere’s gaze and said, “There are none I am aware of.”

Hlothere nodded while deep down he was not sure if Ealdmund lied or not.

Ealdmund stood and stretched, “I apologize but these old bones wish to enjoy a real bed for the first time in months.”

Hlothere snickered.

Ealdmund continued, “If you have no objections I will retire for the night and see you in the morning.”

With a broad smile Hlothere said, “Enjoy your sleep.”

Ealdmund bowed saying. “Thank you.”

As Hlothere watched Ealdmund leave a nagging feeling that something was afoot kept going around in his mind. Hlothere finished his ale and asked for another. Alone he sat pondering what may be.

 

[tpmcinty]

February 1021 York

As she had done many times over the last month, Ingrid sat in the chair in her chambers staring into space, tears running down her cheeks. They were the tears of a mother who lost everything.

Her solitude and mourning were interrupted by her daughter. Birgitta Eilifsdotir entered the chamber and walked over to her mother. Birgitta placed her hand gently on her mother’s shoulder from behind. Ingrid reached up and covered her daughter’s hand and laid her cheek upon it.

“First God saw to take my baby Birgitta of York, your sister by Swæfræd, during the terrible times of the consumption.”

Birgitta squeezed her mother’s shoulder tighter.

Ingrid continued, “Now He has taken your brother, Hjalmar.”

Resenting how her mother always favored Hjalmar, coldly Birgitta replied, “He foolishly tried to escape from the dungeons. His fate was forgone the moment he decided to do so. None escapes from the king’s dungeons.”

Ingrid pushed her daughter’s hand away, “That bastard Rædwald is why my boy is dead.”

Birgitta stepped back, “As I have learned during and after my marriage to the now Bishop Geoffroy of Charlieu was annulled, you do not defy the king.”

Ingrid glared at Birgitta, “Defiance! What do you know of defiance?”

Birgitta was growing angry and frustrated with her mother. The conversation was baring old wounds that Birgitta tried to bury. “My defiance cost me my children. My refusal to accept the King of Burgundy’s wishes to make my husband a bishop is why I stand here now and not with my children in Piemonte.”

Ingrid shook her head, “Hjalmar did not defy the king. He only showed loved and compassion toward his brother.”

Birgitta’s shoulders sagged. She knew it was useless to go on, but her anger came through, “Mother, he openly spoke against the king numerous times, he joined factions against the king, and he refused to raise his levies when ordered to do so.”

Ingrid’s face reddened with anger, “Begone. Why do you torture me so? Get from my site.”

Birgitta too a deep breath, “I only came here to tell you an emissary from Countess Katarina of Hereford is here to see you.”

Ingrid looked up at her daughter and with venom still in her voice asked, “Who?”

At that moment a man in clerical clothing appeared from behind Ingrid. He smiled and took her hand as he bowed. He kissed the back of her hand.

As he released her hand he said, “Bishop Totil of St Ethelberts, Lady Ingrid af Chester.”

Ingrid smirked at the bishop and asked, “What do I owe the honor of a visit from the Chancellor of Hereford?”

Stung by Ingrid’s attitude Totil did not let it show, “I bring you the deepest sympathies of the Countess Katarina and her Regent the Lady Hafrid.”

Ingrid slumped in the chair, “I have been given a lifetime of useless sympathies.”

Keeping his emotions in check Totil nodded, “I am confident those sympathies are heartfelt.”

Glassy eyed Ingrid replied, “Sympathies no me no good. Can they bring back my son?”

Maintaining his sternness Totil replied, “No they cannot.”

Ingrid looked at the bishop, “Can you?”

Totil looked back at Ingrid, “No, I cannot, milady.”

Ingrid looked at her daughter and then glared at the bishop, “You have done your duty. Why do you linger?”

Totil grinned, “What if I can offer you something that could lessen your grief some?”
Ingrid raised her eyebrows.

Totil’s grin turned into a smile, “I see you are intrigued.”

Ingrid leaned forward in the chair, “What do you speak of?”

Totil’s smile turned devilish, “What if I told you of a way to hurt Rædwald and secure a measure of revenge against him?”

Ingrid looked over at Birgitta. Birgitta was as wide eyed as her mother and shrugged her shoulders. Ingrid returned her gaze to Totil and said, “Do continue, bishop.”

Totil noticed a pitcher on the table nearby and walked to it. He took one of the cups and poured some wine from the pitcher. He turned to face mother and daughter and asked, “Wine?”

Ingrid and Birgitta shook their heads no.

Totil nodded and took a long sip, “How did your son die?”

With her face contorting from anger Ingrid hissed, “What game do you play at my dear bishop? I do not wish to play.”

Totil bowed apologetically, “My deepest apologies. I meant no disrespect.”

Ingrid gave the bishop a look that said he one chance to save himself.

Choosing his words carefully Totil said, “Hjalmar was killed trying to escape. I ask how someone in his condition could try to escape?”

Ingrid looked questioningly at the bishop but said nothing.

Totil continued, “The consumption had rendered him barely able to move. With his madness he did not even know you, his mother.”

Ingrid sat silently staring at Totil. Birgitta broke the awkward silence, “What are suggesting?”

Totil almost grinned but maintain a serious face as he calculated that he had Ingrid and Birgitta’s full attention. “What if he did not try to escape but was murdered?”

Birgitta stood with her mouth open. Ingrid glared at Totil with eyes if they could would have killed him. She ordered, “Explain.”

Still maintaining his sternness under Ingrid gaze Totil replied, “Say a guard was paid to murder him and make it look like Hjalmar tried to escape.”

Ingrid continued her glare, “If that were so, I am sure the guard would have been killed for what he knew.”

Totil dared to grin some, “What if said guard escaped the murder attempt?”

Ingrid was becoming more agitated at the conversation, “My dear bishop come to your point or I will have you removed from my sight.”

The smile fell from his face Totil realized he could no longer be subtle with Ingrid. He would have to be direct. “I presume, milady you know a man named Beornwulf.”

Ingrid’s eyes widen some and she replied, “Yes, he was one of Hjalmar’s guards.”

Birgitta cut in, “He is the guard who killed Hjalmar. No one has seen him since that night. Mother has requested numerous times to speak with him.”

Totil allowed himself a grin, “Several weeks ago Beornwulf appeared in a tavern in Gisors which in the County of Vixen in France.”

Still wary of the bishop Ingrid responded, “I know where Gisors is. I have traveled there to visit my dear friend Skuld Totilsdohtor.”

Totil nodded, “Yes, Skuld Totilsdotor who was the sister of the late Earl Sumarliði and aunt to my liege the Countess Katarina.”

Ingrid smiled and said, “Perhaps I will have some wine.”

Totil nodded and said, “Yes, milady.” He placed his cup on the table and filled another cup and gave it to Ingrid who took a small sip, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” replied Totil.

Ingrid gestured toward Totil and said, “Do continue with your tale.”

Totil noted that the meanness had returned to Ingrid’s voice. He replied, “On this particular night Beornwulf partook in too much ale and other spirits. He spun a story of how he was approached by one of Duke Ealdmund’s men and paid to kill Hjalmar and disguise it as an escape attempt. At first, he refused but the price was so high he knew if he did not do it one of the other guards would and why should they get rich. He befriended Hjalmar and on the appointed night he led Hjalmar out of his cell and into one of the dungeon’s many corridors. There he stabbed him to death and raised the alarm. When the other guards appeared, he explained to them that he caught Hjalmar escaping and the Duke of Northumbria resisted and he had to kill him. No one doubted Beornwulf’s word.”

Ingrid rested her elbows on her knees and brought her hands together like she was praying. Totil could see she was thinking hard. Ingrid asked, “A nice yarn thus far but how did Beornwulf come to this tavern?”

Totil took a sip of wine and walked over the hearth and warmed his hand for a moment and answered, “You were correct in saying that the killer would be killed and Beornwulf was no stranger to dark deeds. He had been paid half before the deed and when he went to collect the remainder of his ill-gotten pay several men tried to kill him. He was ready for them and able to fight them off and escape. He made his way to the port and took passage on the first ship he found that was leaving. The ship brought him to Normandy and he worked his way to Gisors.”

Ingrid now folded her hands in her lap and asked, “How do we know this?”

Totil smiled, “On the particular night in question a associate of the Lady Skuld was in the tavern and overheard the conversation of Beornwulf. This associate introduced himself to Beornwulf and upon seeing how drunk the man was offered to aid him to his room. Of course, Beornwulf was not taken to his room but found himself before Skuld. He was persuaded to tell his tale to her. Knowing the importance of this information Skuld had Beornwulf escorted to Hereford with instructions that you should be made aware of his confession.”

Ingrid sat silent with her eyes closed and her hands clasped together so tight the knuckles were turning white.

Seeing her mother was not going to say anything Birgitta asked, “What is the fate of this Beornwulf?”

Totil turned to Birgitta and put on an innocent face, “He is enjoying the protection of Countess Katarina for the time being. In a couple of weeks, he will go before the Countess and her Regent Hafrid and tell his tale so that all will know the treachery of Rædwald.”

Birgitta shook her head. This was all too much for her. “What will become of him?”

Totil smirked, “I am sure he will get an appropriate award.”

Ingrid suddenly stood up. Her body was shaking from rage. Her eyes filled with hate she turned and stormed out the room surprising Birgitta and Totil.

Birgitta trying to stop her mother called out, “Mother, no.” She had a feeling she knew where her mother was going.

*****

Hlothere and Rædwald stood in the strategy room each holding a mug of warm ale.

Hlothere drank some of his ale and asked, “Why?”

Rædwald drank his ale and replied, “I feel it is time.”

Hlothere shook his head, “You still have not told me why you want to do this.”

Rædwald took another drink of ale and replied, “I have never felt right about using the Anglo-Saxon names and titles. I have felt along it disrespects our father and the line of kings back to Ragnarr Loðbrok.”

Hlothere drank some of his ale and inquired, “Then why did you change to Anglo-Saxon in the first place?”

Rædwald looked down into his mug, “I let others influence me.”

Hlothere asked, “Who could influence you?”

Rædwald seemed embarrassed, “Mother, Leofweald of Northumbria, Bishop Dyre of Halton, and even Siweard.”

Hlothere finished his ale and placed the mug on the table, “If you were not sure why did you let them convince you into making the change?”

Rædwald placed his mug on the table and leaned with both hands on the table, “I was a new king and inexperienced. Father never truly taught me anything about being a king. I was just over 18 when he unexpectedly died. I was naive and too trusting of people who had their own agendas. I was told it would bring peace to the kingdom. Little good it did when most of the Norse lords rebelled.”

Hlothere turned and leaned on the edge of the with his rear and asked, “Do you not think the Anglo-Saxons lords may rebel?

Rædwald stood straight and turned, looking at his brother, “Let them. I will crush them. I was weak back then but now I am powerful.”

Hlothere continued leaning on the table, “What do the other Counselors say?”

Rædwald walked a few steps away from the table and replied, “Ealdmund and Emrys feel as long as I do not strip any of the Anglo-Saxon lords of their titles and replace them with Norse lords there will be no issues.”

There was a commotion in the corridor just outside the door. Both brothers watched with interest. Hlothere stood at the ready with his hand near his sword as did Rædwald. Suddenly a figure charged into the room screaming. The guards just inside the door stopped the figure. The figure struggled punching and kicking at the guards.

Rædwald recognized the figure as Ingrid. He also saw Birgitta just behind her mother. His half-sister had the look of fear written all over her face.

Rædwald ordered the guards to release Ingrid. They did so with caution. Even though she was full of anger common sense took over and she did not charge the king. She knew if she did so it could mean her death.

With a face bright red with rage and her fists clinched she yelled, “You bastard, you had him murdered, your own brother.”

Rædwald stood silent and did not move.

Ingrid continued, “I now how you paid the guard, Beornwulf to murder him and tell all my son died trying to escape. For this I name you Kinslayer!”

Rædwald gestured to the guards to remove Ingrid. When they started to do so Ingrid began to resist. Birgitta stepped in and said, “Let’s go, mother.”

Thankfully Ingrid listened, and they departed with the guards close behind.

Rædwald turned to find an angry Hlothere glaring at him.

Hlothere said through clenched teeth, “Did you do it? Did you have Hjalmar killed?”

Rædwald dismissed the charge, “She is crazy with grief. A woman in her state will say almost anything.”

Hlothere continued glaring at Rædwald, “You did not answer me.”

Getting annoyed Rædwald did not respond.

Hlothere continued, “I know that Beornwulf has not been at his posts for several weeks now. I am Steward and it is one my duties to know such things. I thought he left or got killed in a tavern fight. Now hearing this. I ask you again did you kill our brother?”

Fully annoyed Rædwald roared, “I am king. I do not answer to you.”

Hlothere brought his face close to Rædwald’s and said, “Damn you.”

Hlothere pushed past his brother and stormed out of the room.

Rædwald stood in silence for a few moments and then called for his secretary.

The secretary entered the room and bowed, “You called for me Your Highness.”

Rædwald looked at the secretary and said, “Find the Master of the Keep. Tell him that Ingrid af Chester is to leave the keep by sundown tomorrow and she is to never return.”

The secretary responded, “Yes Sire.” He bowed and left the room leaving the king to himself in the gathering gloom.

 

[tpmcinty]

May 1021
Hereford
Keep of Countess Katarina

Prince Hlothere washed down the piece of cooked venison with a couple of swallows of ale. He torn a piece of bread off the loaf between him and his wife Princess Tiburge. He used the bread to wipe some of the juices from his plate. He popped the bread in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed it.

He looked across the table at the Duchess Ealhswith of East Anglia and Hafrid, Regent of Hereford. Both women were enjoying the meal just as much as he was. He then turned to gaze upon his hostess, the Countess Katarina of Hereford. The young countess who would come of age at the end of next month smiled at Hlothere.

She asked, “How do like the meal Prince Hlothere?”

Hlothere quickly swallowed the food that was in his mouth and replied, “It is very delicious, milady. You have some fine cooks.”

Hafrid who was directly across from Hlothere looked up from her plate, “We have thought long and hard over your proposed actions and have some reservations. Many feel it is too drastic of a change.”

Hlothere threw down the bone he was cleaning and asked, “Too drastic?”

Hafrid rested her elbows on the table and clasped her hands together above her plate, “Yes too drastic. We understand you desire for vengeance but replacing Rædwald may be going too far.”

Trying not to let his anger and disappointment show he grasped his wife hand tightly under the table. He said, “Going too far? Do you think that he has not gone too far murdering his own brother? “

Hafrid smiled, “Yes, he has gone to far. But this is not a time for a change.”

Hlothere began to speak but Hafrid raised her hand to hold him off and continued, “While we agree you would be a more favorable king can you gain the follower necessary given what you will be up against?”

Hlothere stared long and hard at Hafrid. His hands were shaking from the anger and feeling of betrayal. He had come thinking he was gaining support only to find himself abandoned before he started.

Ealhswith now spoke, “You will face Mercia, Lancaster, Deira. I am sorry since we are now Norse, I should say the Duchy of Jorvik. Lastly there will be Northumberland.”

Hlothere caught the sarcasm in Ealhswith’s tone when she mentioned Norse and inwardly Hlothere chuckled.

“Emrys and Ealdmund will never turn on him. If we went forward the only duch-jarldom you would have would be my East Anglia. Harold of Leicester, Åke of Westmorland, and Eadwine of Cumberland may bring their counties to our cause.”

Inwardly Hlothere had to concede to the duchess and regent. However, there was a glimmer of hope as Ealhswith mentioned ‘our cause’. Hlothere added “Count Eadwine will not be amongst us. He has thrown his support behind my half brother bastard Count Swæfræd of Gwent.”

Katarina joined the conversation, “Åke is not reliable. He spends far too much time hiding from assassins.”

Hafrid finished chewing some bread and said, “We know Jarl Hlothere of Man is your man, but his levy is small and insignificant.”

Ealhswith smiled at Hlothere, “As you can see there is just not enough to take on Rædwald for a cause such as Prince Hlothere for Jorvik.”

Tiburge had sat silently, rage building as she listened to her husband being betrayed. Finally, she could take no more and said, “The kingdom is being torn asunder by the misdeeds of Rædwald and all I hear is how helpless we all are. If that is so then we all run and hide in our keeps and wait for our enemies to sweep over the kingdom. Otherwise I ask, what do you say we can do?”

Katarina looked over at the princess and displaying understanding beyond her age replied, “It is not that we do not wish to act but, in the end, it comes down to numbers. Besides the levies Rædwald can raise there is Queen Crístina and her Tarans. And let us not forget the tributaries of Ulaidh, Tír Eoghain, Connachta, and now Scotland.”

With a serious face Ealhswith said, “If we rebel and declare a civil war, I am certain King Ælfgar will declare a de jure war for Oxford…” looking directly at Tiburge, “or Gloucester.”

With growing annoyance Hafrid looked at Tiburge, “You remain unconvinced?”

Undaunted Tiburge stated, “We should be concerned with Crístina she is barely recovered from the pneumonia that had her bedridden for so long. Now she with child. She cannot lead her levies.”

Hlothere rolled his eyes knowing his wife too often did not keep abreast of current affairs within the kingdom and had a habit of speaking without all the knowledge available. This was proving to be one of those times.

Hafrid almost laughed out loud at Tiburge’s gaff, “The queen has been recovered long enough to resume he duties as Queen of Mide and as wife of the king. She maybe with child but that will not stop her from doing everything humanly possible to defend her husband’s kingship.”

Reaching for something Tiburge said, “There may be an opportunity when Rædwald and Crístina escort Wulfwaru to Great Moravia for her marriage to King Konrád.”

Hafrid shook her head but it was Ealhswith who spoke, “There is no opportunity there. Emrys will be regent with Ealdmund supporting him.”

The room fell into silence. Servants came and cleared the plates from the table and refilled mugs with ale. Shortly afterwards Hlothere and Tiburge excused themselves.

*****

Later that evening as Hlothere and Tiburge readied for bed Tiburge said, “They are fools.”

Hlothere sat on the side of the bed and replied, “They are but nothing of what they spoke this evening was untrue. They are greedy and cannot see past their own wants. This discord is what Rædwald is counting on to keep his actions unchecked. He knows few will join together against him. Ealhswith will have her faction for Gavelkind Succession, and eventually Katarina will champion More Power for the Council.”

Tiburge crawled into bed and asked, “What shall you do?”

Hlothere heard someone knock at the door and listened as his squire answered. Hlothere got out of bed and walked toward the outer room. The squire delivered a note to him. He read the note and walked back to the bed.

Tiburge looked up from the bed and asked, “Well?”

Hlothere grinned, “Interesting.”

Tiburge did not like being teased, “What is interesting?”

Hlothere smiled, “Ealhswith is backing my faction.”

Surprised Tiburge asked, “What made her change her mind.”

Hlothere looked at his wife and said, “Most likely the news in the second note.”

Tiburge was growing impatience, “What news would that be?”

Hlothere frowned, “Sturla has obtained a claim to Tuadhmhumhain for Rædwald.”

Now Tiburge frowned, “Then war is coming.”

Hlothere nodded as her threw the notes on the table near the bed. Tiburge wrapped her arms around his next and pulled him down saying, “You will have to stop it future King of Jorvik.”

Later when Hlothere was deep asleep Tiburge rose from the bed and walked to the table next to her side of the bed. She lifted the necklace she wore that evening revealing a note. A note she found on the table next to the addressed to her husband. She read the note and quickly hid as Hlothere entered the chamber.

In the dim light of the dying fire from the hearth she read the note again. She quietly walked to the hearth and threw the note on the flames. There was a brief moment of intense light as the paper burned. Looking at the note burn she mumbled to herself, “He must never find out. If he does it will mean ruin to our plans to make him king.”

Hlothere shifted in bed. Tiburge turned and looked at him and quickly went back to bed. Once in bed she snuggled against him and fell back asleep.

 

[tpmcinty]

October 1021
Scone, Gowrie, Scotland
King’s Keep

King Uhtred of Scotland sat at the head of his Council table. The furs he had thrown over his shoulders barely kept the chill and dampness from him. He glanced out the window into the gray afternoon. The drizzle and fog kept him from seeing the town or the surrounding hills.

He grasped the polished stone and rapped it loudly on the table bring silence from the assembled council members.

Uhtred cleared his throat and said, “So it is agreed that now is the time we call for assistance from our great ally King Rædwald of Jorvik.”

The Counselors all nodded their agreement except one. Uhtred looked at the lone dissenter and asked, “Bishop Morgan of St Andrews you have a doubt?”

Morgan, the Steward of Scotland, responded, “I still carry concerns from the day we declared this war on King Ælfgar.” He looked around the room and asked, “Why would
Rædwald care one bit if we conquer Clydesdale or not?”

Sitting across from Morgan, Spymaster Earl Stephan of Tyrconnell replied, “He does not.”

Morgan turned and looked desperately, “Then I again ask why he would help?”

The answer came from Morgan’s right in the form of Earl Stephan of Strathearn, the Chancellor, “Because he is obligated.”

Morgan sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, “Obligated!? When has obligation been an assurance of action. Rædwald is mad. Afterall only a madman would kill his brother in cold blood.”

Strathearn looked at the pouting Morgan and replied, “he is our Suzerain and as such he is obligated to answer a call to arms from us. If he does not, he will be labeled Oathbreaker. Not a good title for someone in his position.”

Still unconvinced Morgan asked, “What position is that?”

Tyrconnell smirked and replied, “His vassals plot against him. At any one time there are three or four factions active within the kingdom. Even his own brother Hlothere wants to replace him as king.”

Sitting at the end of the table opposite Uhtred, Court Chaplin Bishop Gilbride of Iona spoke, “Even God is unhappy with him or at least that is what many of his people believe as the Camp Fever spreads throughout the Kingdom of Jorvik. It began in Chester a couple months after Rædwald committed his dastardly deed. It has since spread and now ravages Mercia, Lancaster, and Jorvik. All lands that Rædwald rules over as Jarl.”

Strathearn seeing that Morgan was finally satisfied asked, “How many levies do we think Rædwald will commit?”

Marshal Earl Malmure of Oriel who was sitting next to Tyrconnell answered, “He will commit his own levies.”

Strathearn asked, “What of his vassals?”

Malmure smirked, “I do not think he will risk the possible unrest.”

Morgan appeared shaken that the council felt Rædwald would not commit all of his levies asked, “What of Jarl Emrys of Deheubarth, and Jarl Ealdmund of Powys? They are his staunchest supporters.”

Malmure shook his head, “I do not think he will. The Jarl of Deheubarth’s levies are the only troops that can be trusted to keep the peace at home if needed. The Jarl of Powys is currently in disfavor as it was one of his men who admitted Rædwald was the ringleader of the plot to kill Hjalmar.”

Gilbride inquired, “What of his brother, Hlothere?”

Malmure chuckled, “The Jarl of Gwynedd wants to replace Rædwald as king. If I were Rædwald I would not want Hlothere’s levies anywhere near me. Also, since the end of Hlothere’s war with Ælfgar his levies need time to replenish their ranks.”

Malmure glanced around the room and continued, “Before anyone asks about the other vassals, Duchess Ealhswith of East Anglia, Jarl Hlothere of Man, Count Harold of Leicester, Count Åke of Westmorland, and Countess Katarina of Hereford, Rædwald will not risk asking any of them. Thier current displeasure with the king is well known and raising their levies will further strengthen that displeasure.”

Again, full of doubts Morgan asked, “Will Rædwald’s levies alone be enough to aid us?”

Malmure smiled, “Rædwald’s levies will number 6,500. Along with our levies that will give us almost 11,000 troops. At best Ælfgar can call on 6,000.”

Morgan tried one last time, “Will Ælfgar bring his ally King Diogo of Galicia into the war if Rædwald joins us?”

Malmure grinned, “He may but the Galicians have so many problems in Iberia at the present they are begging Ælfgar for troops. I doubt Diogo has any to spare to battle us.”

Uhtred looked around the room and seeing there was no more discussion to be had said, “Lord Chancellor take our request and deliver to King Rædwald.”

Strathearn smiled and replied, “With pleasure, Sire.”

 

[tpmcinty]

Chapter 7.17

May 1022
Bishopric of St. Kentigern, Clydesdale
Jorvikian Siege Camp

Rædwald stood in the entrance to his tent with his hands clasped behind his back looking out, gazing at the walls of the St. Kentigern. Occasionally a large boulder would strike the wall and the loud sound of rock striking stone would echo back to him. Every now and then he would follow the smoke trail of a fire bomb as it arched into the city. A few moments after it disappeared over the walls a flash and a pillar of smoke would follow.

“How have we come to this?” he asked rhetorically. He did not expect an answer since he was alone, so when a voice behind him responded, “God is punishing you for your sins.” He nearly jumped out of his skin.

He whirled around reaching for his sword. To his horror he realized it was not on his waist but in the weapons rack on the other side of the tent.

The voice laughed, “How does it feel to be afraid and defenseless?”

Some of his fear was ebbing into anger and Rædwald called out, “I do not need a blade I will crush you with my bare hands.”

The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time laughed again, “That is unlikely. You were never good with your fists and only adequate with a blade at best.”

Anger now fully replaced fear. Rædwald looked desperately around the room. “I will call the guards.”

The voice replied, “Go ahead they will not come. If they did, they would only see a mad king talking to himself.”

At his wits ends Rædwald called out, Show yourself!”

The voice laughed loudly and asked, “Are you sure you want me to do so?”

Shaking Rædwald yelled, “Damn, you, show yourself!”

A figure dressed in a tunic of orange and yellow walked out of the shadows from the rear of the tent. Steel blue eyes gazed at Rædwald from a above a short beard and mustache. His crop of black hair was well combed. An evil smile was upon his lips,

Rædwald stood stunned. After a moment or two he said, “You can’t be here. You are dead.”

The man replied, “Yes, I am. You had me murdered. But here I now stand.”

The color drained from his face Rædwald said, “Begone. Go back to the pit you crawled out from.”

Hjalmar laughed, “In due time, brother, in due time.” Hjalmar walked over to the table on which the crown rested. He raised the crown off the table and began examining it. “All for this.” He unceremoniously dropped the crown on the table. If hit the top of the table and bounced off, landing upside down on the ground.

Hjalmar took his eyes off the crown and looked at Rædwald who was standing wide eyed with his lips twitching in both anger and fear. Hjalmar smiled, “You asked a question and I am here to answer it.”

Rædwald glared at his dead brother, “I have no desire or need of what you say”

Hjalmar continued to smile and replied, “Your actions and deeds have made your desires and needs worthless.”

Rædwald shook his fist at Hjalmar and said, “You speak with a forked tongue as you always did. Your lies and greed landed you in your predicament?”

Hjalmar roared with laughter, “My predicament, my predicament! Let us see where your deeds have brought you. Our brothers Hlothere and Swæfræd plot openly against you or allow others to do so in their names.”

Rædwald narrowed his eyes and replied, “They are greedy and listen to poor counsel. They know not the difficulties of being king and decisions one must make for the kingdom even though they may be unpopular.”

Hjalmar chuckled, “You forsook the council of your advisors and warred with Scotland. Now you answer the call of the Scottish king and fight his war.”

Rædwald glared, “King Uhtred is my tribute. I answered his call for help and fulfill my obligations.”

Hjalmar grinned and shook his head, “Yet you do his bidding. I see no Scottish soldiers here or anywhere in Clydesdale. Is this war not for Scotland to reclaim Clydesdale? Who is truly the master and who is the tributary?”

Rædwald wanted to choke Hjalmar but was not sure if he could, “You twist what is true to you meet your own desires as you did when you were Duke of Northumbria.”

Hjalmar smirked as he walked across the tent to the weapons rack, “I find myself asking what you are doing here?”

Rædwald watched his brother closely wondering if he could use one of the weapons he was gazing at, “I am here as the commander of my army.”

Hjalmar turned away from the weapons and replied, “Is that so? You have never led an army yourself. You have always delegated the command to another. Why the change now?”

Rædwald stepped towards the weapons rack, trying to get between the rack and Hjalmar. “It is my army to command and I will do so.”

Hjalmar stepped further away from the weapons, “Perhaps you run away.”

Sternly Rædwald replied, “I run from no man!”

Hjalmar stopped and looked at Rædwald and said, “I did not say a man, but you do run from an enemy. An unseen enemy.”

Rædwald put his hand on the hilt of his sword, “Speak clearly your accusations.”

Hjalmar chuckled at Rædwald’s distress, “You run from the camp fever. Once again you have removed yourself and left your people to suffer from an epidemic.”

Rædwald grasped the hilt tightly but did not pull the blade free, “I have not abandoned my people. There is a war to be fought.”

Hjalmar shook his head, “You may not have shut yourself in your keep this time but again you do not share their fate as the sickness burns it way through the kingdom. All but Wales is in its deathly grip. Chester has suffered the greatest as many towns and villages are now desolate with the dead outnumbering the living.”

Hjalmar turned his back on Rædwald. Rædwald drew his sword and faced his brother. His hands shaking Rædwald said, “Now I will be rid of you.”

Hjalmar laughed, “Your blade will be of no use here.”

Rædwald raised the blade to strike.

Hjalmar did not flinch and asked, “What is the fate of your family? Of the queen? Crown Prince?”

Hearing his family mentioned Rædwald stopped and lowered the sword, “They are safe. They traveled to Gabhrán in Osraige to be in the court of Queen Crístina.”

Hjalmar rubbed his chin with his hand, “You removed your newborn son Eilif from harm’s way, but did you move him far enough? Perhaps you should have moved him to the newly found land across the sea. Now what was it called? Ah, yes Vineland, this is what is was called.”

Rædwald began to raise the sword again, “Nothing better befall him.”

Hjalmar feigned shock and replied, “I do not hold the sins of the father against the son. There are, however, other dangers in that court. Surely you have heard the rumors.”

Rædwald took a step closer to his brother.

Hjalmar suddenly seemed larger to Rædwald and the king stumbled back away from him.

Hjalmar seem to return to his normal size and said, “You, however, do not hold to the same virtues when it comes to forgiveness.”

Rædwald trying to catch his breath as he leaned on his sword, “What do you speak of?”

For the first time Hjalmar seemed angry instead of taunting, “I speak of our sister Birgitta. You have sent her to marry King Torgils of Danmark.”

Rædwald still leaning on sword wiped some sweat from his brow said, “I did her a great favor by marrying her to a king.”

Hjalmar snorted, “You may have thought so. You have sent her further away from her children. She cries herself to sleep missing them.”

Rædwald finally stood straight and said, “You spoke of trouble in the Queen’s court.”

Hjalmar chuckled, “I did, did I not? What of it?”

Rædwald demanded, “Speak of it.”

Hjalmar laughed, “Why do ask? You have heard the whispering in the shadows, have you not?”

Anger building Rædwald, “Do not toy with me.”

Hjalmar grinning, “It is said that the king no longer fulfills his husbandry duties and the queen must seek satisfaction elsewhere.”

“You bastard,” yelled Rædwald. In one quick motion he brought the sword up and swung at Hjalmar. To his surprise there was nothing there, the sword cut through thin air. Not finding a body the force of the blow made the king unbalanced and he fell to the ground. With his face buried in the ground Rædwald heard Hjalmar laugh one last time. “Until we meet again, brother.”

 

[tpmcinty]

May 1022
Bishopric of St. Kentigern, Clydesdale
Jorvikian Siege Camp

Ealdmund stood at the entrance to the tent watching the last act of Rædwald’s conversation. He observed Rædwald speaking to no one. With growing apprehension, he watched as his king struck with his sword at a non-existent tormentor. Ealdmund held his breath as the blade sliced through the air and the king lost his balance. Fearing Rædwald would fall on the blade the spymaster anxiously watched as the blade slipped from the king’s hands and fell several feet from the king as he crashed into the ground. Not wanting to worsen the situation Ealdmund waited in the entrance watching the king. When he was certain whatever vision was driving Rædwald’s actions was gone from the king’s mind he stepped into the tent.

Not sure of Rædwald’s physical condition Ealdmund called out, “Your Highness.”

Rædwald muttered something unintelligible.

Ealdmund stepped back and stuck his head out of the tent. Looking at Rædwald’s squire cowering near the flap Ealdmund ordered, “Get up boy and fetch some wine.”

The squire still shirking away from the tent entrance replied in an unsteady voice, “But, milord.”

Ealdmund stepped out of the tent and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulders guiding him to stand. “I assure you whatever it was is gone, now serve your king.”

Ealdmund gave the squire a look that chilled his blood, “Speak nothing of what has happened here.”

The squire swallowed hard and his eyes widened in fear. Whatever had gone on in the king’s tent was in the king’s mind. Here before him in flesh and blood was the man who could and would do anything to protect the crown. Another murder would be nothing to Ealdmund, Master of Spies.

The squire nodded and ran off to get the wine and get as far as he could from the spymaster. Knowing what he had done Ealdmund chuckled as he watched the boy flee from his presence.

Ealdmund reentered the tent finding Rædwald still on the ground but on his back. Other than breathing heavy the king appeared unharmed. Keeping his eyes looking on the roof of the tent Rædwald asked, “Did you see him?”

Ealdmund shook his head, “No, milord.” Seeing the distress on Rædwald’s face Ealdmund added, “He departed before I arrived.” Ealdmund knew his favor with the king was on a razor’s edge and one slip and he could find himself in the dungeons. Afterall it was Ealdmund’s man who confessed Rædwald was behind the plot to kill Hjalmar. Rædwald had expressed his displeasure over that fact more than once.

Ealdmund helped the king stand on his wobbly legs and led him to a nearby stool. Rædwald sat down heavily on the stool. As a seasoned veteran of many battles Ealdmund quickly looked over the king. Seeing no obvious wounds or injuries Ealdmund breathed a sigh of relief. With sweat pouring off of him Rædwald sat on the stool with his elbows on is thighs and rested his head face down in his hands.

Suddenly Rædwald raised his head out of hands and looked up at Ealdmund. His eyes were so wide with fear that Ealdmund could only see the whites. With fear reverberating in his voice Rædwald asked, “My new babe has he come to harm?” Rædwald grabbed Ealdmund’s arm and said, “You must tell me.”

Ealdmund patted the top of Rædwald’s hand and replied, “Eilif is well. He is safe with Queen Crístina and her court in Gabhrán along with his brothers and sisters.”

The squire arrived with the wine. Ealdmund turned to the nervous boy and ordered, “Wine for the king.”

Shaking the squire filled the king’s goblet, spilling a good deal of the wine in the process. He handed the goblet to Ealdmund who gave it the king saying, “Wine, Your Highness.”

Rædwald took the cup in his unsteady hands and brought it to his mouth. He gulped down the entire goblet in one draught. He handed the goblet to Ealdmund who gave it the squire sharply demanding, “More.”

The squire filled the goblet spilling very little this time, Ealdmund took the goblet and gave it to the king. Rædwald took a long drink emptying close to half and then held the goblet in his lap.

Ealdmund turned to the squire and said, “Leave us.”

The squire bowed and hurried out of the tent. Ealdmund poured himself a goblet. He pulled over another stool and sat down across from his king.

Rædwald lifted his goblet and took a drink. His nerves were settling but his mind was still jumbled. He looked at Ealdmund who could see the confusion on the king’s face. Rædwald asked, “What am I doing here?”

Ealdmund smiled and in a soothing voice, “You are here helping a friend.”

Still confused Rædwald said, “But they are using me, he said so.”

Still smiling Ealdmund responded, “No one is using you, milord. The Scottish asked for aid against England and as their suzerain and friend you came.”

Rædwald was not convinced, “They used that I am suzerain to trick me.”

Ealdmund took a drink knowing this was taking longer than he had expected to bring Rædwald out of his confusion. Later he would need to speak with Beorhthelm and Crístina about this incident. “Have we not said many times any war that harms King Ælfgar is good for the kingdom?”

The confusion dropped some and Rædwald replied, “Yes, we have. We cannot allow Ælfgar to become too strong.”

Ealdmund felt he was getting somewhere and continued, “If King Uhtred takes Clydesdale from King Ælfgar that harms England. For once you do not have to sit by and watch others fail. Here you can ensure Ælfgar is hurt and you have done so by taking Dumbarton”

The confusion appeared to leave Rædwald but deep down the shock remained. The king said, “Yes you speak the truth my friend. I should not have allowed myself to be tricked by his words.”

The color came back to his face and his gleamed again. Rædwald finished his goblet and asked, “What news do have for me?”

Ealdmund finished his wine and stood. He offered to get more for the king who nodded yes. Ealdmund lifted the pitcher and poured more wine in the king’s goblet while the king held it. The spymaster then poured more for himself and sat back on the stool. He took a sip and smirked, “I have good news about England.”

Rædwald finished his sip and chuckled, “Good news for us means bad for King Ælfgar.”

Ealdmund snickered himself and replied, “I will also say that it probably worse news for Ælfgar’s ally King Diogo III of Galicia.”

Still with a grin Rædwald asked, “It is Diogo’s poor showing in his wars that has forced him to bring Ælfgar and his other ally, King Josselin of Burgundy into the wars to save him.”

There was slight anger in his voice as Rædwald said, “King Josselin is another we wish bad luck upon after his treatment of our sister Birgitta. Sending her away from her children.”

Ealdmund nodded, “Yes, milord.”

Rædwald sipped some wine and asked, “What trouble has Diogo gotten himself into?”

Ealdmund smirked, “He has managed to get himself into four wars with the Moslems.”

Rædwald looked surprised, “Four?”

Ealdmund grinned, “He is being bested by Duke Alvar of Gascogne in the Gascognian Holy War for Navarra, by Emir Tifilwit of Aslamid Emirate in the Aslamid Holy War for Galicia, and by Emir Keraja II of Algarve in the 3rd Algarvian Holy War for León.”

Rædwald looked a little confused, “You said four wars, but you stated only three”

Ealdmund chuckled, “The fourth war Diogo has the upper hand.”

Wide eyed Rædwald asked, “Against who?”

Ealdmund shrugged his shoulders and replied, “Sheikh Garçi of Salamanca in the Salamancan Holy War for León.”

Rædwald drank his wine and called for his squire. The squire entered the tent and bowed. Rædwald ordered, “Find us something to eat.”

The squire nodded, bowed, and replied, “Yes, Sire.” He left the tent.

Rædwald looked at Ealdmund, “Since Ælfgar has made alliances with Galicia and if rumor holds true with King Josselin any day, should we not look for an alliance?”

Ealdmund knew with the kinslayer label being so recently placed on Rædwald many would shy away from an alliance with him, but he could not come out and say it. “We have Scotland and the Irish lords do we need more?”

Rædwald shook his head and leaned back on the stool, “They are fine allies but can they equal England allied with Galicia and Burgundy?”

Ealdmund was struggling with trying to stay away from the kinslayer reason, “Does, milord have any in mind?”

Rædwald thought for a few moments and then replied, “We know King Nicolas II of France has no interest. He thinks hiding behind his antipope in Nule, Hadrianus II, will protect him.”

Ealdmund leaned back and said, “It is no longer Hadrianus.”

Surprised Rædwald responded, “Not Hadrianus. Did Nicolas fire him or something.”

Ealdmund shook his head, “No Hadrianus’ health declined, and he passed four or five weeks ago.”

Rædwald noticed the squire had returned with food. He directed the squire to place it on the small table Rædwald used for dining. Rædwald indicated Ealdmund should join him as he stood. As they walked to the table Rædwald asked, “What fool did Nicolas appoint?”

As they sat at the table Ealdmund answered, “His new antipope is Stephanus V.”

The squire positioned bowls of stew before the king and spymaster. He placed a small loaf of bread between them. Rædwald dismissed the squire who bowed and left the tent.

Rædwald tore some bread off the loaf and handed it to Ealdmund. Before dunking it in the bowl he asked, “What of King Thierry II of Aquitaine?”

Ealdmund had torn a piece of bread off and stopped midway through his dipping and raised an eyebrow, “The Monster?”

Now it was Rædwald who raised an eyebrow, “The Monster? That is what they have dubbed him. Do you know why?”

Ealdmund finished chewing his bread and swallowed, “It is said his methods of dealing with his enemies are rather cruel and some say inhumane.”

Rædwald finished his piece of bread and asked, “Is that the only reason you are against an alliance with him?” Ealdmund was startled. He had not raised his objection yet. Rædwald continued, “I could see it in your face.”

Ealdmund reached for his goblet which he had brought with him to the table. “Not entirely.”

Holding another piece of bread Rædwald gestured, “Do go on.”

Ealdmund sat his goblet down, “He is constantly at war with the Muslims in North Africa as they are continually trying to take back what they consider to be their lands. Now he has to contend with a new offshoot of the Islamic faith called Shi’a.”

Rædwald dipped his bread in the stew and asked, “What is this Shi’a?”

Ealdmund tore some bread loose and replied, “I am no religious scholar and as such I know not the specific differences other than to say it’s followers appear to be more willing to fight at this time.”

Rædwald swallowed his chewed bread and said, “Let us discuss King Refr of Norge.”

Ealdmund shook his head, “Too many wars. He has been constantly at war since he ascended the throne. His health is not good these days.”

Rædwald finished a drink from is goblet and said, “He is not that old.”

Ealdmund had to fight with his bread to stay together so that he could get it into his mouth. It took him a moment to chew and swallow, “He is infirmed and not expected to last as king for much longer be it from death or being deposed.”

Rædwald toyed with his bread in the stew and said, “King Konrád of Great Moravia is too distant to be of much use. That leaves King Torgils of Danmark.”

Ealdmund reached for the pitcher and poured more wine for himself, “Wars and stability go against him.”

Rædwald pointed his stew-soaked bread at Ealdmund and said, “Wars I can understand but stability.”

Ealdmund finished his drink and replied, “Torgils only usurped the crown in January. In Danmark of the last eight kings only one was elected. The others have become king through war.”

Rædwald frowned, “Not very promising.”

Ealdmund looked at the king, “What of King Josselin?”

Anger flashed in Rædwald’s eyes, “I would never consider him after what he has done to our family.”

Both men ate in silence for the next few moments. Rædwald was using a piece of bread to clean the bowl of the last of the stew asked, “What can you tell me of my family?”

Ealdmund sat his bowl down. Like Rædwald he was getting the last of the stew, “I must regret to tell you all indications are Eadhburh, wife of Swæfræd, did indeed kill herself.”

Rædwald looked up from his bowl. Rædwald had met Eadhburh on several occasions and felt sorry for her due to his brother’s lechery. He felt sad that she had died, “How?”

Ealdmund looked sternly at Rædwald, “She went for a walk one evening near dusk. She was last seen on the bridge over the river. Her body was pulled from the river three days later.”

With a lump in his throat Rædwald asked, “How did my brother take his wife’s death?”

With a degree of disgust Ealdmund replied, “Two months later he remarried.”

Now it was Rædwald who was disgusted, “Who would marry a drunk leacher such as him?”

Ealdmund replied, “Karaka Falksisdottir, daughter of the late Countess Maria of Hereford.”

Now anger mixed with his disgust Rædwald said, “He does this to aggravate me. Marry the daughter of the bitch who led a rebellion against me.”

Ealdmund shook his head in disgust. He then drank his goblet dry.

Ealdmund coughed and said, “We should prepare for the likely return of your sister Bodil to court?’

Confused Rædwald asked, “Why? What has happened?”

Ealdmund drank more wine in an effort to lessen the tickle in his throat, “Her husband Sigismond Welf has been named heir to the Bishopric of Langres. When he becomes Bishop of Langres the marriage between he and Bodil will be annulled. She will most likely be sent back to your court.”

Feeling sorry for Bodil and concerned the same could happen to her as happened to Birgitta Rædwald sked, “What of her daughters?”

Also feeling sorry Ealdmund replied, “I know not if they will travel with Bodil or remain in the court of King Nicolas in Melun, milord.”

Shaking his head Rædwald took a long drink emptying his goblet. Rædwald took the pitcher and refilled his goblet and took another long drink.

Rædwald took a deep breath and asked, “Anything new of the factions?”

Ealdmund finished a drink and replied, “They come and go. Prince Hlothere for Jorvik, Count Swæfræd for Jorvik, Increased Power for the Council, and Gavelkind Succession. Lords join, lords quit. They are a nuisance at best,”

Rædwald nodded, “Keep them that way.”

Ealdmund bowed, “Yes, milord.”

Rædwald took a long sip and placed his goblet on the table, “Any word from your people in Hereford?”

Ealdmund shook his head and frowned some, “Nothing. The young countess is keeping on the straight and narrow at least in public. In private we have little information. But we are trying.”

Rædwald looked at Ealdmund and said, “Try harder. I want a reason to arrest Katarina soon before she gains influence. I fear she could be the one who finally unites the dissenters.”

Ealdmund nodded a little concerned about his freedom replied, “It will be done.”

Rædwald nodded, “I expect nothing less from my master of spies.”

Ealdmund stood, “If there is nothing else, Sire, I must return to Jorvik to see that your desires are carried out.”

Rædwald waved, “No there is nothing more, you may leave.”

Ealdmund bowed and left the tent in a hurry glad that he still had his freedom and his head upon his shoulders.

Rædwald watched Ealdmund leave. After a few moments of sitting alone the king decided to rise. As he did his stomach grumbled. As he stood straight a sharp pain struck him in the abdomen. The pain took his breath away and he nearly doubled over. He braced himself against the table. Out of no where he was struck by a sudden and urgent urge to defecate. He tried to take a step, but the pain returned. He had no choice. He called for his squire.

The squire entered the tent and seeing the king in pain and leaning on the table rushed to his side.

Rædwald cried out, “Help me boy, now!”

The squire helped the king stand. With the king leaning heavily upon the squire he led them to the privy just in time.

 

[tpmcinty]

August 1022
Bishopric of St. Kentigern, Clydesdale
Jorvikian Siege Camp

Rædwald laid in his bed staring at the roof of the tent. Even with the summer heat he felt cold under the furs thrown across his body. His body ached in every joint. He barely had the energy to pull himself out of bed. He would have remained under the covers, but he had barely left the bed over the last three days. Guilt was motivating him to rise.

With great effort he threw the covers off and with a loud grunt sat on the side of bed. He sat unmoving until his head cleared. He placed his unsteady feet on the ground and placed his hands firmly on the side of the bed and slowly but steadily lifted himself off the bed until he stood upright, He was standing but barely.

Hearing noise in the tent Rædwald’s squire entered the tent. Seeing the king wavering on his unsure legs he rushed to the king’s side. At first Rædwald brushed aside his squire but after almost falling with one step he relied on the young man to escort him to his table. The squire guided him into his chair.

Concerned the squire asked, “Is there anything I can get for you, Sire?”

Rædwald took a few moments to recover responded, “Something to eat would be nice.”

Hesitant at first to leave the king the squire eventually exited the tent.

Rædwald sat at the table resting his elbows on the table. He then held his head up with his chin resting in his hands. He looked over the table and saw the correspondence that had accumulated over the last few days.

As he was reaching for a note the squire reappeared. He placed a bowl of stew and bread before the king. The squired turned and took a mug and pitcher from a servant that had followed him. The servant left after giving the squire his burdens. The squire placed the mug on the table and poured ale from the pitcher into it. He moved the mug closer to the king who was eating ravenously. Rædwald thanked the squire who stepped back and took a seat on a stool near the entrance to the tent.

Rædwald was still recovering from a three-day fast Beorhthelm, the court physician had prescribed for him. Rædwald was not convinced the fast did much good other than make him extremely hungry. Beorhthelm was concerned Rædwald had contracted Smallpox. While there was no general outbreak of the disease there were several isolated cases in villages nearby.

Over the past week Rædwald had become more and more fatigued. He felt constantly tired and slept most of the time. When he was awake his joints were racked with pain. He had little or no interest in what was going on around him. If it had not been Beorhthelm and the king’s squire Rædwald may have starved. Today was the first day he had any ambition and was determined not to waste it. Perhaps the fasting did actually work.

Finished eating his stew he picked up one of the notes on the table and began reading. He read several more reports before stopping. The reports were all about one mundane thing or another, grain production in this county or that county; how much taxes were collected. Rædwald concerned himself little with these affairs. He had counselors who were good at their tasks and the kingdom operated efficiently as a result.

The next note he retrieved from the pile was from Archbishop Eastmund of St Peters. Rædwald read the letter.

Your Highness Rædwald, King of Jorvik

I hope this letter finds you well and I wish to congratulate you on your recent victories.

I write to you to express displeasure with Count Harold of Leicester. Openly and in clear violation of the vows and oaths he swore upon accepting the appointment of Count of Leicester, Harold Hjalmarsson Akra continues to practice the rites and traditions of the Eastern Orthodox Faith of his forefathers and has rejected conversion to the one true Catholic Faith. Not only does he blatantly follow these rites he has gone to great lengths to encourage and strengthen the Orthodox heresy within the county. Bishop Bo of Newark and Bishop Ælfwald of Newcastle practice the Orthodox faith in defiance to our Holy Father Gregorius V. Nearly all the Catholic parishes within the county have been converted to Orthodox. We are aware that several were done so at the point of a sword.

We beseech and humbly request Harold be directed to adhere to the agreements and oaths he took upon becoming Count of Leicester.

Your Servant in Christ
Eastmund Archbishop of St Peters

Rædwald place the letter back on the table and took a deep breath. He had appointed Harold as Count of Leicester based upon the service, he rendered during the Revolt of Countess Maria. Rædwald was aware of Harold’s religious background and the resistance from some to appointing Harold. At the time Rædwald felt it was important to have loyal vassals. However, prior to appointing Harold an agreement was drawn up obligating Harold to convert to Catholic or if he did not convert, he was not to interfere with the Catholic faith in his county. Within two years it was obvious that Harold was not going to follow the agreement.

While Rædwald understood Eastmund as archbishop had concerns and an obligation to address this issue Rædwald did not appreciate the archbishop basically ordering him to act. When he returned to Jorvik Rædwald knew he would need to address not only the issue of Harold but also the Eastmund overstepping his authority.

Rædwald’s thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of someone entering the tent. Rædwald looked up from the table to see Beorhthelm, Court Chaplin and Court Physician crossing the space between the door and the king. Reaching the king Beorhthelm bowed and said, “It is good to see you up and about, Your Highness.”

Rædwald smiled and nodded, “I feel the best I have felt in several weeks. As much as it pains me your prescription of three days of fasting and prayer has helped.”

Beorhthelm smiled, “I am please to hear you say so.”

Rædwald directed Beorhthelm to sit and join him in some ale. Beorhthelm sat on a stool near the table and the squire brought both a mug of ale each. The squire began to lay out the king’s garments in case Rædwald wished to tour the camp.

Beorhthelm looked at the king and said, “I see that while you look better you are troubled.”

Rædwald rustled the papers on the table and replied, “I have been trying to read some of these notes, so I may know what has transpired while I was sick. Several spoke of the camp fever epidemic. I am troubled by it and I wish to know who is suffering.”

Beorhthelm took a long drink of ale. This was a topic he did not wish to speak of currently. He feared it would dampen the king’s good spirits. However, he was aware that ignoring the king’s request would change the king’s mood quicker and more deeply. Beorhthelm took a deep breath and began,” the sickness rages throughout most of the kingdom and unfortunately shows little signs of ebbing.”

Rædwald’s mood did appear to dampen and he asked, “What counties are anguishing under this illness?”

Beorhthelm took a moment to recall the information. Once he was satisfied, he knew which counties he answered, “Suffolk, Norfolk, Northampton, Lincoln, Leicester, Warwick, Worcester, Jorvik, Djuraby, Chester, Shrewsbury, Westmorland, Lancaster, Dunholm, Northumberland, and Cumberland. It has spread to the English counties of Essex and Dunbar.”

Rædwald sat in silence. He sighed and said, “Other than Eadwine of Cumberland who else has secluded themselves in their keeps?”

Beorhthelm took some ale and replied, “Harold of Leicester, Count Wulf of Northampton, and Duchess Ealhswith of East Anglia.”

Rædwald drank some ale and remembering how it was to be locked away in your keep asked, “How is their food. Will it last through the sickness?”

Beorhthelm replied, “Only Eadwine of Cumberland is experiencing a food shortage.”

Rædwald nodded, “That is better than I expected. Anything else I should be aware of ?”

Beorhthelm hesitated but replied, “Eight-year-old Count Wulfstan of Dunholm has contracted the camp fever. I regret to say he is not expected to survive.”

Rædwald did not respond thinking of how sad and unfair for Wulfstan.

Without warning there was loud cheering and the sounds of chaos erupting from the siege camp. Perplexed Rædwald and Beorhthelm looked at one another and then at the tent entrance. The squire stood up and looked outside. He was nearly knocked over by Mayor Uhtræd of Skardaborg as the mayor burst into the tent.

Out of breath and smiling broadly the mayor bowed to Rædwald who along with Beorhthelm were now standing.

Rædwald asked, “What is the meaning of the ruckus going on outside?”

Uhtræd replied, “St Kentigern has surrendered, Your Highness.”

Now it was Rædwald’s turn to smile broadly, “Thank you Mayor Uhtræd. You may return to your troops.”

Uhtræd bowed and replied, “Yes, milord.” The mayor exited the tent.

Rædwald looked at both the squire and Beorhthelm, “I wish to enter the town.”

The squire walked over to the bed where he had laid out the king’s garments in anticipation the king would venture outside the tent. Rædwald walked over to the bed and quickly removed his bed gown and began to dress as Beorhthelm watched.

“Armor, Your Highness?” the squire asked.

Rædwald smiled, “Yes.”

The squire moved off the collect the armor and padding. Rædwald stood beside the bed seeming to be in the best spirits he had been in months. Suddenly the king froze. Fear and confusion spread over his face. Beorhthelm stopped smiling and became very concerned. Rædwald grasped his chest and let out a loud groan. The severity of the pain forced the king to drop to his knees.

After what felt like an eternity Rædwald opened his eyes. In a very low voice he asked, “What happened?”

Beorhthelm looked at the king and replied, “You were overcome with chest pains.”

A weak Rædwald asked, “Why?”

Beorhthelm answered, “I know not why.”

Rædwald accepted Beorhthelm’s answer and closed his eyes.

Beorhthelm took a deep breath and said, “Milord,” Rædwald opened his eyes, “Whatever is going on with your body cannot be determined or treated in the camp of an army. We must retire to a more civilized place.”

Weakly Rædwald opened his eyes and replied, “Bamborg in Northumberland is the closest.” Rædwald again closed his eyes.

Beorhthelm nodded and turned to the squire, “Prepare to move the king to Bamborg.”

 

[tpmcinty]

7.17.4

October 1022
Bamborg, Northumberland
Ducal Keep

Slowly and steadily Rædwald walked into what had been his late brother’s ducal room. The duke’s chair atop the small dais now served as a king’s throne. The orange and gold banners of Northumberland still hung from the rafters along with newly added white and red banners of the Kingdom of Jorvik. Suspended behind the throne the black banner with the white shirt of the House of Hvitserk watched over the patriarch of the bloodline.

As he traversed across the cold stone floor, he pulled the fur draped across his shoulders attempting to keep the chill at bay. October was upon the lands with its grey skies and cold winds from the north. The fire in the hearth burned voraciously against the cold. The last couple of months saw the king lose weight to the illness that his body combated.

Cancer. The word sliced through Rædwald’s thoughts like a jagged blade ripping out his existence. Hearing the tales of suffering and lingering death Rædwald fell into a deep dark depression upon hearing the diagnosis from Beorhthelm.

Now more than ever he felt he was on borrowed time, yet he had great deeds undone. Despite a ruinous previous experience when Beorhthelm approached him with an experimental treatment Rædwald jumped at the chance for a cure. Once overcoming the revulsion of the smell of the yellow powder sprinkled over the still tepid gall-bladder of a rabid beaver Rædwald began to feel better. Rædwald was not sure about the whole fight evil with evil thing Beorhthelm championed. However, there must have been something to it as the king felt stronger and more alive than he had in months.

The cancer pains and nausea had greatly subsided, but a dull nagging pain remained. Not debilitating the pain served as a reminder of the sickness and that it could some day rear it ugliness again.

The most pressing concerns were the king regaining his strength particularly in his legs and arms. Confinement to a bed for many long months had sapped the prowess from his muscles. He moved like someone well beyond his forty years as displayed in his slow pace across the room. His extreme weight loss not only hindered his stamina but also left him vulnerable to the cold.

With care Rædwald mounted the steps on the dais. Without any ceremony he sat down heavily on the throne. He looked around the nearly empty room. Formal court with all its trappings and ceremony were a thing of the past. One day when he returned healthy to Jorvik the splendor and pom of court would return. For now, it was just him, Beorhthelm, Eadweard, and a few guards stationed throughout the hall.

With a raspy voice Rædwald ordered, “Let us begin”

In this bare bone court, the 15-year-old crown prince had to act as both messenger and host. Eadweard nodded and walked to the doors at the end of the hall. He spoke with the guards at the door and in a few moments began his trek back to his father. He was accompanied by a man in armor who had obviously been in the saddle riding hard for many days.

Reaching the dais Eadweard continued up the steps and stood to his father’s right. The solider took a knee and bowed. Rædwald directed him to stand and said, “What news do you bare Commander Anlaufr Þorsteinnsson that you rode hard to deliver.”

Anlaufr sheepishly asked, “May I?”

Rædwald nodded and Anlaufr took one step up the dais. Eadweard walked to the commander. Anlaufr held out a pouch and handed it to Eadweard. Anlaufr stepped down and replied, “Dispatches from Clydesdale.”

Eadweard took the pouch and walked it over to his father and handed it to him. Rædwald took the pouch and sat it in his lap and Eadweard returned to his place besides his father. Rædwald looked at Anlaufr.

Anlaufr knew what the look meant and replied, “The dispatches are routine.”

Rædwald looked at Anlaufr and smirked, “Then why ride so hard?”

Anlaufr smiled broadly, “To bring, Your Highness word that Renfrew has been taken. We control all of County Clydesdale.”

Rædwald laughed, “That is good news. Goods news indeed.”

Anlaufr nodded, “The city fell quickly, and we suffered no casualties.”

Rædwald asked, “What of the army? Where is it now?”

Anlaufr replied, “The army moves to join the Scottish at Abercorn.”

Rædwald nodded, “Fine, Fine.’ He looked at Eadweard and winked, “I shall be rejoining it soon.” The prince returned a confused look.

Anlaufr enthusiastically responded, “That would be a joyous occasion.”

Beorhthelm coughed and said, “Now, Your Highness you must not rush these things.”

Rædwald looked at Beorhthelm and replied, “Good physician I shall decide when to rush things. Afterall am I not the king?”

Beorhthelm nodded and gave a subservient look, “You are king, but I am your physician and therefore charged with your health and wish for you to have a long reign.”

Rædwald faked defeat and looked at Anlaufr and said, “You will have to tell Mayor Uhtræd I will be delayed for a short time longer.”

Anlaufar nodded and replied, “I will tell him, Sire. We will look forward to your return and will celebrate it when the day comes.”

Rædwald smiled, “Many thanks, Anlaufr.”

Anlaufr made a sweeping bow extending his right arm.

Rædwald nodded, “Very well now. See the guards and they will see that you are fed and have a place to rest before you return to the army.”

Bowing Anlaufr said, “Thank you, Sire.” He turned and followed a guard out if the hall.

Eadweard looked at Beorhthelm. The physician appeared to be bursting at the seams. Eadweard patted his father on the shoulder and the two exchanged a chuckle as the prince descended the dais to fetch the next guest.

Eadweard returned a few moments later escorting a mountain of a man. His red hair was cut short and his face was like that of a new babe. His cold blue steel eyes, however, were the hard, unyielding eyes of a warrior, of man one did not trifle with if one valued their life. Upon reaching the dais the man took a knee as Eadweard climbed the dais and stood by his father.

Motioning for the man to stand Rædwald said, “Yngvar of Llanelwy.”

Yngvar replied, “You spoke, my king, and I am here.”

Rædwald smiled, “Do you know why I have summoned you?”

Expressionless Yngvar replied, “No, Sire I know not.”

Rædwald chuckled, “I see you are a man of few words. Would you care to surmise why?”

Still with no emotion showing Yngvar replied, “I possess a knowledge or skill that you require.”

Rædwald laughed, “You are very astute.”

Yngvar finally looked directly at the king and asked, “What do you require of me?”

Rædwald responded, “Your sword and your loyalty.”

A hint of confusion crossed the Norse warrior’s face, “You already have both my king.”

Rædwald became serious, “I am aware of that Yngvar. What I need is sword in the front leading men.”

Yngvar was caught off guard, “I understand not.”

Rædwald smirked. He had been told Yngvar was not the brightest, “Your liege, Jarl Ealdmund of Powys spoke of your skill with a blade and axe in battle and how men rally around you. He told of your grasp of battle tactics and daring on the battlefield.”

Slightly embarrassed Yngvar replied, “Jarl Ealdmund overstates matters.”

Rædwald leaned forward and chuckled, “I have known Jarl Ealdmund for many, many years and I trust his judgement and assessment in these manners.”

Still unsure Yngvar said, “if that is so then I own the Jarl of Powys a debt of gratitude.”

Still leaning forward Rædwald loudly clasped his hands, “See my good warrior I am in dire need of good commanders who can lead on the battlefield and are trustworthy. Do you understand?”

Yngvar nodded as he realized what was happening, “Yes, Sire.”

Unclasping his hands Rædwald sat back in his chair, “Good, very good. Orders will be drawn up making you a General of the Realm.”

Humbled Yngvar bowed his head, “Thank you, Your Highness. I will lead your soldiers to the Gates of Hell if you so order.”

Rædwald chuckled, “I hope it does not come to that. For now, the only devil we need to battle is English.”

Yngvar nodded.

Rædwald continued, “You will stay here while the orders are written, and make ready to travel to Abercorn.”

Yngvar bowed and said, “Thank you, Sire. You will not regret your choice.”

Rædwald nodded and indicated Yngvar could leave. The warrior turned and walked with a more confidant step as he left the hall.

Once Yngvar exited the hall Rædwald turned to Eadweard and said, “We need more like him.”

Not sure of what was meant by the statement Eadweard questioned, “Father?”

Rædwald stood and faced Eadweard, “We need strong and skilled Norse warriors and leaders like Yngvar.”

Confused Eadweard said nothing.

Rædwald reached out and placed his hands on his son’s shoulders, “Far too long we have tried to be like the Anglo-Saxons. We have become weak and complacent. We have lost our way. It was through strength and Norse blood this kingdom was carved out of these lands. We have forgotten we are the children of Ragnarr Loðbrok. Do you understand?”

Eadweard proud of his forefathers responded, “Yes, father, I do.”

Rædwald lowered his arms and smiled, “Good, very good.”

Father and son exited the hall and slowly made their way down the corridor toward Rædwald’s chambers.

Anglo-Saxon Beorhthelm followed many steps behind his mind racing. Does the fate and perhaps the survival of the Jorvikians of Anglo-Saxon reside with a mad king? Where will it end?

*****

Rædwald entered his chambers alone. He made his way over to a table and lifted the pitcher. He poured some wine in a goblet. Placing the pitcher down he took several sips from the goblet.

There was a tap on the door. Rædwald instinctively reached for the dagger on the table. He turned to watch the door. The tapping resumed but now there was a pattern to it. Rædwald listen intensely. Once the tapping was done Rædwald continued to listen.

Finally he spoke, “Enter.”

The door opened slowly and quietly. A man dressed in a black coat with the hood raised slithered into the room. He slowly closed the door in such a manner the click of the latch was barely audible. The man removed his hood revealing a man enclosed by a bushy beard and short crop of brownish red hair.

Rædwald smiled and offered the man a goblet, “Tadg mac Broccán. I had long given up hope of ever seeing the Spymaster of Mide again.”

Tadg refused the goblet and said, “I wish not to linger long here.”

Rædwald drained his goblet and placed it on the table, “Then you had better speak of what brought you here.”

Tadg grimaced, “I say what I say out of no love for you, but I am true to God and to Mide.”

Rædwald smirked, “And my gold.”

Tadg glared at Rædwald but then an evil smile came across his face, “Your fears are founded. The Queen does bed another.”

Showing no emotion Rædwald coldly asked, “Who?”

The king’s icy emotionless reaction sent shivers down Tadg’s spine. He began to wonder what he had gotten into. He swallowed now regretting not taking the king’s offer of wine, “Rígán, Marshal of Mide.”

With a stern face Rædwald nodded. The king turned and opened a drawer in the nearby dresser and removed a small pouch. He turned and tossed the pouch to Tadg. Surprised by the king’s action Tadg almost missed the pouch. As he caught it coins could be heard clicking together within the pouch.

Wide eyed and horrified Tadg looked at the pouch and then at the king, “What is this for?”

Now it was Rædwald with the evil smile, “Consider it a down payment.”

Fearful Tadg replied, “A down payment for what?’

Still with the devilishly smile Rædwald answered, “For further information.”

Tadg shook his head and offered the pouch back, “No, no I am done.”

Rædwald walked away from Tadg’s outstretched arm and the pouch. As he neared the shadowy corner of the room near the wardrobe he said, “I am afraid you are not done.”

Tadg dropping the pouch to the floor replied, “No one saw me. I can deny everything.”

With an evil chuckled Rædwald said, “Are you sure?”

Confidently Tadg responded, “Yes I am.”

There was movement in the shadow next to the king. Tadg drew his dagger. Rædwald smiled as Eadweard emerged from the shadow with his sword drawn. Eadweard looked at his father and with the drawn blade pointing at the Irish spymaster took a few steps toward a completely frightened Tadg.

Eadweard stopped and smiled, “It surprises me, father, that a spymaster would walk blindly into a room and speak his secrets without inspecting the room out thoroughly.”

Father and son laughed. The color drained from Tadg’s face. He stood holding the dagger with his shaking hand. Eadweard pointed his sword toward the dagger and Tadg dropped it. Eadweard reached down and picked up the dagger and the pouch.

Handing the pouch to Tadg Eadweard said, “Here you have dropped your thirteen pieces of silver.”

Not knowing what else to do Tadg took the pouch. He scanned the room for an escape and found none. The door to the corridor was now blocked by Jarl Ealdmund who had entered the room unnoticed.

Rædwald moved and stood before Tadg and said, “I look forward to your next report.”

Tadg gave both Rædwald and Eadweard an evil look and turned quickly. Smiling Ealdmund opened the door and Tadg ran into the corridor as fast as he could not caring of the noise he made.

Eadweard sheathed his sword. Rædwald sat down heavily in a chair. Ealdmund approached and said, “He is ours.”

Rædwald looked up at Ealdmund, “I knew the plan would work.”

Sensing the king wished to be alone with his son Ealdmund bowed, “I will see to the next act, if I have your leave.”

Rædwald nodded, “You may go.”

Once Ealdmund left the room Rædwald face collapsed into his hands. A few tears ran down his face. Eadweard poured a goblet of wine and handed it to his father. Eadweard stood watching his father drink and tried to come to grasp what his mother had done.

Finally, Eadweard spoke, “Father.”

Rædwald looked up at his son.

Eadweard continued, “What shall we do?”

Rædwald finished the wine and threw the goblet across the room. It hit the wall with a loud metallic sound and fell to the floor. He watched it until it stopped spinning. He stood and placed his right hand on Eadweard’s shoulder and said, “I know not what at this time.”

Confused and hurt Eadweard said, “She has betrayed you. She betrayed our love.”

Rædwald squeezed Eadweard’s shoulder and removed his hand. Somberly the king crossed the room to the bed. He turned and looked at Eadweard. “My father, King Eilif, always said that the most dangerous person at court is the queen and someday she will betray you.” Looking harder at Eadweard he said, “Remember that.”

A downtrodden Eadweard nodded and replied, “Yes, father.”

Rædwald sat on the side of the bed, “I must rest now.”

Eadweard nodded and walked out the room.

Rædwald sat on the side of bed staring into the void until the shadows overtook the room.

 

[tpmcinty]

Chapter 7.18

7.18.1

March 1023
Jorvik, Jorvik
Palace of Jorvik

Crístina gripped the reigns tighter as she maneuvered her horse through the gates and into the bailey. The last few miles of the trip had been unnerving for the queen. The roads seemed usually empty and where they did encounter people they shied away from the queen and her entourage. Her stomach turned in knots as she was aware the bailey was empty. This was a very usual welcoming for the return of the queen.

She chuckled to herself. The last eight weeks had been anything but usual. It all began with an unsettling conversation with her Spymaster Tadg mac Broccán. The conversation was still vivid in her mind and it replayed without her thinking.

She was alone in the council chambers troubled. The court physician had confirmed what she had suspected and feared for several weeks. She was with child. Soon she would not be able to hide the fact. She had already overheard several of her ladies talking about the queen’s woman’s time being late. She was sure the rumors had begun.

Sitting at the table lost in her thoughts she did not hear Tadg entered the chamber and quietly approached the queen. Starling her he said, “Excuse the intrusion, my queen.”

So deep in thought the queen jumped at the sound of his voice. Shaken and a little angry over being disturbed she growled, “What is it?”

Realizing what he had done Tadg stepped back and bowed, “I am sorry if I alarmed you.”

She looked at the spymaster and with anger still in her voice replied, “You had better have a good reason.”

Still acting apologetic Tadg replied, “I bring urgent news.”

Her agitation not lessening Crístina responded, “Well then out with it.”

Tadg looked at the queen and said, “I bring word of an assassination attempt.”

Crístina rolled her eyes, “Another. They come daily. That is no news.”

Crístina stood and began to walk away from the spymaster in disgust.

Tadg watched her and said, “This one is different.” Expecting a response Tadg paused. Crístina did not react and continued walking toward the door. “This one is directed not only toward yourself but also your children.”

Crístina stopped in her tracks and spun around. With her fist clenched she marched to Tadg. When she halted her face was only inches from Tadg’s face. “My children. Which one?”

Tadg swallowed hard, “All of them here in court. The princes Sigeberht and Eilif, and the Princess Ælfthryth.”

Crístina stepped back. The color drained from her face, but she quickly recovered her composure. Still glaring at Tadg she asked, “Who?”

Tadg let out the breath he did not know he had been holding, “We do not know exactly who but there are several candidates.”

The queen’s eyes narrowed, she ordered, “Names.”

Tadg hesitated, “We do not have definite proof. Just information that points to certain individuals.”

This with more force Crístina ordered, “I want names.”

Licking his dry lips Tadg replied, “Crown Princess Sifflæd of England, and Eanhere Æthelsigesson Spymaster of England.”

Crístina grumbled, “English, huh.”

Tadg nodded, “Yes, milady.”

Suddenly Crístina suspiciously eyed Tadg and asked, “How did you discover this plot?”

Squirming under his queen’s intense gaze Tadg replied, “A band of bowmen appeared in town and one night several were at a tavern enjoying a drink. One of them got heavily drunk and began to brag about a job he and his friends were hired to do involving killing a highborn lady and her children. Several of his friends tried to forcibly quiet the man. He would not be quiet, and a ruckus broke out. Several of my agents were in attendance that night for a different reason realized the importance of the man and rescued him. Upon questioning he revealed the lady was you.”

Still unsure Crístina asked, “Did he tell who hired them?”

Still unsettled Tadg replied, “He did not. He was not one of the leaders of the band and had no knowledge of it.”

Crístina asked, “What of these leaders?”

Tadg lowered his head and replied, “Regrettably the band disappeared. We have been diligently searching for them.”

Crístina smirked and asked, “What of the captured man can he tell you where they went?”

Tadg avoided the queen’s gaze and said, “Most unfortunately he did survive questioning. His injuries were too severe.”

Crístina sighed, “That is unfortunate.” She then ordered, “Find the leaders and take whatever precautions needed to protect the children.”

Tadg nodded and bowed, “Yes, my queen.”

He then practically ran from the chambers.

*****

A sound brought Crístina out of her thoughts. She noticed a collection of soldiers milling around the steps to the entrance to the keep.

Odd she thought.

She turned to check on her children. She could not see them hidden among her guards.

Good.

She slowed the pace as her mind wandered back to Gabbrán.

After about a week and a half she was thinking Tadg’s assassination plot was just another farfetched tale. She was dwelling more and more on how she was going to hide her pregnancy from Rædwald. Then Jarl Ealdmund of Powys, Spymaster of Jorvik appeared unannounced.

As the servants finished clearing the remains from the evening meal Crístina and Ealdmund washed the last food down with ale. A servant refilled their mugs and Crístina told him to leave the pitcher. He left the pitcher between the two who sat opposite from one another at the dinning table in the hall. The servant bowed and retuned to his station along the wall behind the queen.

Ealdmund smiled and brushed the crumbs out of his beard, “Another fine meal.”

Crístina returned the smile, “Thank you. I am sure the cooks will apricate your assessment.”

Ealdmund laughed as he patted his belly, “If I keep having meals like this, I will get too fat for my horse.”

Crístina laughed, “That would be a site to se. Where else have you been?”

Ealdmund sat back in his chair and said, “Before I came here, I was in Aberffaw as the guest of Prince Hlothere.”

Crístina lost the joy in her face, “Hlothere still has not returned to court?”

Ealdmund too became serious and somber, “No his displeasure with Rædwald runs too deep.” Ealdmund took a quick sip of ale and continued “I fear the brother’s feud poisons the kingdom.” He brightened up, “Perhaps you can encourage Hlothere to reconcile.”

Crístina found her smile again and replied, “perhaps I should.” Becoming somber again she said, “How is Hlothere’s new son? I had heard he was not well.”

With a tinge of sadness Ealdmund replied, “I am afraid what you heard is true. Eadfrith was born sickly and deformed.”

Shocked Crístina asked, “Deformed? In what way?”

Ealdmund responded, “From what I was told he has a hunch back.”

Crístina shook her head, “Sad. That is so sad.”

Crístina finished her ale and poured herself another mug. “I see the war goes well”

Ealdmund nodded, “Yes it does. Abercorn was taken, and Edinburgh fell last month. Victory is not far.”

Trying to sound cheerful Crístina asked, “How does my husband fare?”

Ealdmund smiled, “He does well. The cancer has receded for now. He has returned to Jorvik and begun marriage negotiations for Sigeberht.”

Anger flashed in Crístina’s eyes, “He does so.”

Ealdmund chuckled, “Do not worry you will be included in the final negotiations.”

As anger lessened some Crístina replied, “I had better be. Are there any frontrunners?”

Ealdmund nodded, “Princess Richenza, daughter of King Hermann of Bavaria.”

Crístina smiled, “That would be a good match.”

Ealdmund grinned, “Better than the one he rejected for Bodil.”

Confused Crístina asked, “Bodil?”

Ealdmund responded, “Yes King Hermann of Germany proposed Lothar Lodolfinger.”

Crístina’s face showed her confusion now, “Lothar who?”

Ealdmund chuckled, “He is the grandson of King Hermann but has no lands or chances of inheriting any.”

After a moment Crístina asked, “Bodil? Why is Rædwald rejecting marriage proposals for her?”

Ealdmund finished his ale, “You did not know she has returned to court?”

Upset she did not know Crístina replied, “No I was not told. What transpired?”

Ealdmund poured more ale and answered, “Her marriage was annulled when her husband Sigismond became Bishop of Langers. She was sent from the court of King Nicolas back to Jorvik.”

Concerned Crístina, “What of her daughters?”

Ealdmund frowned as he took sip of ale, “Sadly they remain in Paris.”

Both drank their ale and sat in silence for a few moments and then Crístina spoke, “I know you did not come here to share gossip and family news.”

Ealdmund looked up from his mug of ale, “you speak the truth.”

Curious and apprehensive at the same time Crístina asked, “What brings you here?”

Ealdmund took a deep breath, “Assassination plots.”

Perturbed Crístina remark, “You also.”

In a very serious tone Ealdmund spoke, “I fear it is true. We know of the English plot and captured one of the band of bowmen’s leaders trying to make his way back to England. Before he departed this world, he confirmed the plot came from the court of King Ælfgar of England, Ælfgar wants you and your children’s death as revenge for Rædwald aiding the Scots.”

Crístina looked hard at Ealdmund, “I have known you for many years, Ealdmund. You do not tell all.”

Ealdmund drank some and ale and took a deep breath, “I cannot fool you. They had help from within Mide and possibly this court.”

Eyes narrowing Crístina asked, “Who and why?”

Ealdmund looked at her and replied, “We have suspects but no one clear traitor. The why is easier. Many Irish object to a woman on the throne of Mide and many do not want the House of Hvitserk to inherit the crown.”

Feeling as if she had been punched in the gut Crístina was silent for a couple of minutes. With her voice breaking she asked, “What am I to do? I feel unsafe here.”

Trying to be comforting Ealdmund answered, “The king wishes you to return to Jorvik with the children.”

Crístina chuckled knowing her husband, “Wishes. Don’t you mean demand?”

Ealdmund threw his hands up and laughed, “I cannot fool you.”

Smiling at Ealdmund’s theatrics Crístina asked, “The camp fever?”

Ealdmund returned to seriousness, “It is still there but it is losing its intensity.”

Crístina sighed, “Then we shall prepare to leave for Jorvik.” After finishing her ale, she asked, “will you travel with us?”

Ealdmund shook his head, “Regrettably I have pressing business elsewhere.”

Crístina grinned, “I hope it is not to Burgh. I would hate to see you on the menu if the rumors be true.”

At first Ealdmund did not understand. Then it came to him, “I am afraid the rumors are true. Count Eadwine of Cumberland was locked away in his castle to avoid the camp fever they ran out of food. Starving and desperate they resorted to cannibalism. And no I return to Bedford and handle some duchy business.”

Five days later Crístina left for Jorvik.

*****

Crístina halted her mount at the steps. The soldiers snapped to attention as Crístina dismounted. She followed the Captain of the Guard up the steps and into the keep. Once in the vestibule the children were transferred to the care of their nannies and escorted to their chambers. Crístina, on the other hand, was escorted into the Great Hall.

There she found her husband, Beorhthelm, Jarl Emrys, and Ealdmund. There was at least one company of guards present. She thought that odd but given all the assassination plots she dismissed it as Rædwald being cautious or just paranoid. No telling where his madness had gone.

She reached the dais and began to ascend the steps saying, “My husband.”

Rædwald stood and outstretched his arm signaling her to stop, “No, do not come any closer.”

Stunned Crístina stopped halfway up the steps.

He knows. She asked, “What is the trouble?’

Rædwald walked to the edge of the dais and glared at her, “You dare come here and act like my wife.”

He truly knows. Crístina looked down at her growing belly. It was becoming more difficult to hide the fact. “I know not what you speak of.”

Angrily the king asked, “Do you take me for a fool?”

Fear growing Crístina replied, “No I do not.”

Rædwald glared down at her, “Do not patronize me. You come here with his bastard growing in your belly.”

Crístina swallowed hard and backed down the steps. Tears began to develop. “I am sorry. I was weak and desperate.”

Rædwald shook his head, “I have always been faithful to you and this is how you repay me. I saw the hurt in my mother from my father’s innumerable affairs and swore I would not do the same.”

Crístina knew there was nothing to be gained trying to defend herself. She could only hope for mercy. Through sobs Crístina asked, “What is to become of me?”

Rædwald walked back to the throne and sat heavily down upon it. “You will be taken from this place and placed in the tower until such time that I decide differently.”

Crístina sobbed, “No.”

Dripping venom Rædwald replied, “Be glad you are my wife, otherwise it would be the deepest dungeon for you.”

Crístina began to cry uncontrollably. She looked at Ealdmund with a deep hate knowing he had tricked her into coming to this trap.

Rædwald turned his head away from her and looked down. He gestured with his hand, “Take her away to her new chambers.”

The guards removed a crying Crístina from the hall.

Ealdmund approached Rædwald. Rædwald looked up at him. A tear formed in the king’s eyes. “You were right all along.”

Ealdmund bowed, “I am sorry that I was.”

Rædwald looked across the hall to the doors where his wife had been escorted through. He felt truly heartbroken and betrayed. “Spymaster your plan worked to perfection. Make sure Tadg is compensated accordingly.”

Ealdmund nodded, “He will be in due time once I am through with him. What of her lover Rígán?”

Rædwald wiped a tear from his cheek and responded, “Bring him here alive. I do not care how. Arrest him, kidnap him. I have a nice cell in the dungeon waiting for him.”

Ealdmund replied, “It shall be done.”

Rædwald rose and without waiting for any formalities stormed out of the hall.

 

[tpmcinty]

7.18.2

September 1023
Jorvik, Jorvik
Tower of Jorvik

Crístina sat on the stool anxiously awaiting the opening of the door to her prison. Since being placed in the tower six months ago she had not been outside of the rooms that made up her so-called chambers. In that time, she had very few visitors. Her two lady attendants saw her daily and most times were her only source of conversation. Beorhthelm saw her regularly, however since the birth of her daughter it was less frequent. She had not been permitted to see any of her other children and Rædwald had not stepped foot in the chambers. She had no news of the outside world. Only rumors and bits and pieces of information she garnered off her attendants.

The door opened. Crístina swallowed and her stomach churned from nerves. Her eldest child Eadweard entered the chambers. Her first born son was no longer a child. Before her stood a man. A man who someday would be king of the most powerful kingdom in Britain and Ireland.

Crístina smiled and walked over to her son. He remained still as if he was a stone statue. She hugged him and gave him a mother’s kiss on the cheek. The prince did react or move. He looked out the window. Disappointed Crístina backed away.

Looking at her son she said, “I am glad you are here.”

Without looking at her Eadweard answered, “You requested to see me, and I am here.”

Trying to stay joyful Crístina said, “Your wife did not accompany you. I had hoped to meet her. I have not seen Sarrazine in many years. Not since the betrothal ceremony.”

Showing no emotions Eadweard replied, “See is preparing for the trip.”

Surprised by the news of a trip Crístina asked, “A trip? You were only married a few days ago." Where would she be going?” Crístina felt a stab to her heart recalling that she had not been permitted to attend the wedding.

Eadweard responded drily, “We are traveling to Bamborg.”

Her spirits sinking some at the thought of her son moving, Crístina asked, “Northumberland, why?”

Proudly Eadweard answered, “The king has appointed me Count of Northumberland and Jarl of Northumberland,”

Full of pride Crístina said, “Congratulations.”

Again, emotionlessly Eadweard replied, “Thank you.”

Desperate to keep the conversation going and thusly keeping her son with her, Crístina asked, “What of your brother and sister?”

Eadweard had decided he would answer any questions about his siblings but before he realized he spoke, “Eilif and Ælfthryth have contracted camp fever.”

Terror filled Crístina’s face and she let out an audible cry.

Seeing her dismay, a crack developed in Eadweard’s persona. While he hated her and wanted her to suffer this was different. Watching a mother suffering because her children were in danger was not what he had prepared for. “Beorhthelm is treating them and he says their cases are not serious and they will survive.”

Some relief came to her and she asked, “What of Sigeberht?”

Eadweard shifted his weight, “He is well.”

Noticing Eadweard discomfort Crístina offered, “Sit please.”

At first, he was going to refuse but the stiffness and pain from standing rigid for too long was annoying him. He sat on the stool she indicated.

Crístina sat and asked, “What of the Bavaria princess? Did they get betrothed?”

Eadweard placed his hands in his lap and replied, “Yes Princess Richenza of Bavaria, daughter of King Hermann of Bavaria, and he were betrothed four months ago.”

Crístina sighed, another event she had not been allowed to attend.

Holding back her tears she said, “What of the king’s sister Bodil has a new husband been found for her?

Eadweard nodded, “She is betrothed to King Gargamel of Aquitaine.”

Crístina smiled, “That is good. She deserves to be married to a king.”

They fell silent and Eadweard was readying to stand. To stop him Crístina asked, “Now that you are Jarl of Northumberland will you being joining war?”

Eadweard shook his head, “No. Father has ordered the levies to return home.”

Shocked Crístina remarked, “He abandons King Uhtred and the Scottish?”

Eadweard smirked, “No. Since Jedburgh was taken it is only matter of time King Ælfgar surrenders.”

Confused Crístina asked, “What does the king play at?”

Eadweard laughed, “Why Ireland of course. It is time for him to press his claims for Dyflinn and Tuadhmhumhain.”

The news pained Crístina. Rædwald was no longer content with exacting tribute from the Irish now he wants to be their lord and master.

Before she could do anything Eadweard stood, “I must be leaving. I have been here too long.”

Crístina approached him to give him a hug but stopped seeing he would not return it.

“Why do you hate me?” she asked.

Eadweard chuckled, “You have to ask.” He glared at her and continued, “You betrayed father having the bastard of another man. Your broke your oaths and vows.”

Crístina stepped away from him, “I made a mistake and am truly sorry for it.”

Eadweard stood firm, “I cannot forgive for what you have done to father.”

Crístina was on the verge of tears, “Do not punish me so. God has already punished me. My daughter Mauda with her deformities is punishment enough.”

Eadweard had heard the babe was ugly and he had no desire to see her. Before his mother insisted, he do so he began to turn.

Crístina reached out and grabbed his shoulder to stop him, “What of Rígán?”

Eadweard stopped and turned around. With venom in his voice he said, “You are unbelievable. You ask for forgiveness and for me not to hate you and then you ask about your lover. Makes me believe you care for him more than your husband and your children.”

Crístina realized her mistake and sobbed.

Eadweard on the other hand smiled at her devilishly, “He is well.” Eadweard could see the sigh of relief come across her even though she tried to hide it. “He was brought to father by Ealdmund. Father intended to throw him in the dungeons but after speaking with him and doing some thinking father figured out a better place for him.”

Crístina could not resist, “Where?”

Eadweard smiled broadly, “The Kingdom of Mide.”

Crístina said, “I do not understand.”

Eadweard laughed, “He is regent.”

Crístina gasped.

Eadweard gloated, “See father discovered he cared for power more than anything else including you. As regent he has that power and father has someone who is very thankful for his good fortune.”

Crístina stood silent with her mouth open. Eadweard turned and marched out of the chambers. Once the door slammed shut Crístina fell to her knees crying uncontrollably.

 

[tpmcinty]

7.18.3

October 1023
Jorvik, Jorvik
Palace of Jorvik

Putting aside his fears Prince Hlothere slowly entered the king’s study. He crossed the distance from the door into the center of the room. He found his brother the king standing behind the desk looking out the window with his back to the door. His hands were clasped behind his back.

Rædwald spoke without turning around, “You have finally returned.”

Hlothere replied, “Yes”

Still gazing out the window Rædwald asked, “For how long?”

Seeing the pitcher on the table by the wall Hlothere walked over to it. He poured himself some wine. Holding the goblet, he returned to standing before the desk, “For as long as I am needed.”

Rædwald turned to face his brother. Hlothere offered him the goblet. Rædwald took the goblet and nodded his thanks. “Get more wine and sit so we may talk as we once did.”

Hlothere returned to the table and poured more wine. With the goblet he sat in the chair before the desk. “what shall we talk of?”

Rædwald sipped some wine and replied, “Why have you returned?”

Hlothere took a long drink, “The kingdom needs me to do so. We must no longer be divided. Our enemies see our weakness and look for ways to take advantage of it.”

Rædwald smiled, “Is there more?”

Hlothere nodded, “I do it for mother. Our separation has broken her heart.”

Rædwald frowned, “She will be pleased. It will give her comfort for her time is short. Did you visit her?”

A lump formed in Hlothere’s throat, “I did. She appears to be very frail. At times I thought each cough would be her last.”

Rædwald looked away so Hlothere could not see the tears welling up in his eyes. “The consumption eats away at her body and what the consumption does not take the leprosy does.”

Hlothere took a long drink and said, “It may be a sin, but I pray for an end to her suffering.”

“The Lord cannot hold it against one for wishing the end to the suffering of one they love.,” replied Rædwald.

The two men sat in silence. Each lost in their own thoughts. Hlothere stood and retrieved the pitcher from the table. He came back to the deck and refilled both goblets. He placed the pitcher on the desk and returned to his seat.

Rædwald finally broke the silence, “How do I know you will be true?”

Hlothere looked at his brother with stern eyes, “I will never fully forgive you for Hjalmar, but I must place that aside. You need my help and I am still your brother.”

Rædwald smirked, “What happened to the brother who wished to replace me as king?”

Hlothere took a drink and replied, “I no longer desire that course of action.”

Rædwald raised his eyebrows, “What changed your mind?”

Hlothere sighed, “I was misled.”

Faking surprise as he knew the answer Rædwald asked,” Misled, how?”

Hlothere took a long drink, “You are not the only one who has a wife in name in only. Unlike your wife mine did not bed another man.”

Trying not to grin or chuckle Rædwald asked, “What did Tiburge do?”

Hlothere seemed uncomfortable but he knew he needed to get this off his chest as it was a major sore point in his relationship with his brother, “It goes back to the war with England over Wiltshire and the gold that was sent to hire mercenaries. As you are aware the gold never reached me. It reached Aberffraw just not me.”

With raised eyebrows Rædwald asked, “where did it go?”

Hlothere stood and walked to the tapestry on the wall that depicted the conversion of King Knut, “I was on campaign with the army in Wiltshire when it arrived. Since I was absent and Tiburge was regent it was given to her.” He took a drink, “I have long known she has expensive needs. I should have asked more questions when I returned and found the jewelry and fabrics. I took her word her father King Josselin of Burgundy had given them to her.”

He stared at the tapestry for a moment. “I trusted her, and she lied. My men suffered for it.”

Rædwald watched his brother, “Why did it harmed our friendship?”

Hlothere looked at the king and frowned, “when I began to question why no help came from you, she used the missing gold, as a way to drive a wedge between us. She had me believing that you had abandoned me. When Hjalmar was killed, she further corrupted my emotions making me think you were not fit to be king.”

Hlothere took another drink, “I did not like Hjalmar myself. We were constantly at odds all our lives. When he became Duke of Northumbria his attitude and actions toward you further increased that dislike. He should have never come between us.”

Rædwald stood up and maneuvered around the desk to his brother. He reached out and embraced his brother saying, “It is forgotten.” Hlothere returned the embrace. After a few moments the two separated and both stood looking at the tapestry.

“I remember the first time I saw this tapestry,” said Hlothere. It was during one of the few Yuletimes that we were allowed to visit. I don’t remember much about the visit except for this tapestry and how I thought it was funny that they made a tapestry of a man taking a bath.”

Rædwald chuckled along with his brother. “What I recall mostly is how everyone kept us away from Queen Elisabeth and the few times we did encounter her how she glared at us.”

Hlothere nodded, “Things were much better once father sent her to the convent.” Hlothere turned from the tapestry and looked at his brother and asked, “I never asked but why did you bring her back to court after you were crowned.”

Rædwald looked at Hlothere and shrugged his shoulders, “At first I wanted to gloat that I was king and had power over her and her offspring. As time went by, I felt sorry for her.”

Confused Hlothere asked, “Sorry for her?”

Rædwald nodded, “Yes. I realized father’s many indiscretions hurt her deeply for at one time she did truly love him.”

Hlothere felt sadness come over him, “Now she is gone.”

Rædwald nodded somberly, “She finally succumbed to the camp fever last month.”

The sound of Rædwald’s secretary entering caused the brothers to turn. The secretary bowed and said, “Please pardon the interruption. Jarl Emrys sent word that all are present.”

Rædwald nodded, “Thank you.” He turned to Hlothere, “Time for us to go.”

They followed the secretary out of the room.

*****

A short time later Rædwald and Hlothere entered the library which was serving as sometimes did, the strategy room. All the Council was in attendance, Marshal Jarl Emrys, Chancellor Mayor Strula, Spymaster Jarl Ealdmund, and Court Chaplin Beorhthelm. In addition, several commanders were present such as Yngvar, Mayor Uhtræd, and Anlaufr.

On the table was a map of Ireland. Rædwald sat at the head of the table with Hlothere to his right and Emrys to his left. The other Counselors sat across from one another Strula next to Hlothere, Ealdmund next to Emrys, and Beorhthelm beside Ealdmund. The commanders filled in the remaining seats. Beorhthelm said a prayer asking for knowledge and guidance.

All eyes fell on the king. Rædwald spoke, “Now that King Ælfgar is all but defeated the Scottish no longer are desperate for our aid. It is now time for us to look toward strengthening our kingdom. On day my son will inherit Mide. While the Tarans are powerful they are but one county in a sea of enemies. We must make our presence in Ireland greater.”

Rædwald looked around the table. Everyone was nodding as he continued. “To those ends it is time to press our claims on Dyflinn and Tuadhmhumhain.”

A round of “here, here” erupted from the table. A few even pounded their fists on the table.

Rædwald smiled, “Not only will strengthen our kingdom we go in God’s name. Dyflinn is the last place in theses Isles where the old Norse gods are worshiped. We will bring Christianity to the pagans. In Tuadhmhumhain we will bring law and order to the chaos and lawlessness that runs rampant in the county since the English were driven out.”

More cheers and pounding of the table.

The king was feeling good, “In the morning riders will be dispatched ordering the raising of the levies throughout the kingdom. At court the declarations of war will be read.”

Loud cheers and pounding filled the room.

Rædwald nodded and said, “Now we will hear from our Marshal.”

The council went on for another hour. Emrys laid out the attack plan and where each levy was to go. Commanders were named. Ealdmund spoke of the strengths and weaknesses of their foes. A few questions were asked and answered. In the end Rædwald had the support he wanted.

 

[tpmcinty]

7.18.4

November 1023
Jorvik, Jorvik
Docks

Even in the coach Hlothere could feel the biting cold wind as it blew off the water. Winter was coming quickly this year. The snow would soon be falling, and ice would overtake the rivers. There were concerns in some corners of the kingdom the early winter had prevented provisioning for the season from being completed. On the other hand, there was hope the cold would finally put an end to the camp fever still lingering in many places.

Chester and Westmorland had been hit particularly hard during the height of the illness. Many tons and villages were nearly deserted, and many crops were not harvested this past season. Starvation was a distinct possibility in those counties. Then there was the business in Cumberland with Count Eadwine over cannibalism. Glad it was no longer his concern, Hlothere, did pity Crown Prince Eadweard whose duty it was to address the issue.

Looking out of the window of the coach he watched the ship’s crew secure the ship to the dock. Once the captain was confidant all was properly done, he issued orders. The gang plank was thrown over the side of the ship and made secure. As it was being done Hlothere exited the coach. Pulling his furs tighter he and several guards walked to the bottom of the gangplank and waited.

They did wait long. A lady with several attendants in tow descended the gangplank. Nearing the bottom of the plank she smiled seeing who was greeting her. Her paced quicken. Reaching Hlothere the lady hugged him as he said, “Uncle Hlothere!”

Hlothere smiled as he returned the hug and then stepped back. He said, “Welcome home Princess Wulfwaru.”

Wulfwaru smiled, “It is so good to see you. I thought I would never see you here in Jorvik again. You and father have reconciled?”

Hlothere nodded, “Yes, we have. I will tell you the tale once we are out of this cold wind.”

Wulfwaru chuckled, “The excitement of the moment overcame me. Of course, let’s seek shelter.”

Hlothere chuckled, “This way,” he said as he directed her to the coach. “Your attendants will follow in the other coaches.”

A footman assisted Wulfwaru and Hlothere into the coach. Once in the coach Hlothere drew the shade and secured the cover that was meant to stop the cold. Hlothere swore it only directed the cold air to the floor of the coach. Hlothere and Wulfwaru bounced as the coach began to move.

Hlothere quickly told Wulfwaru how he and Rædwald came to reconcile. He told her of the betrayal of his wife and how it had further the rift between the brothers. When Hlothere had finished Wulfwaru leaned over and patted him on his hands that were clasped on his lap, “I am truly sorry to hear of Tiburge’s betrayal it must have hurt you deeply.”

She leaned back as Hlothere replied, “It has but I have learned to live with it. My hurt cannot come near the hurt you have suffered with the death of your husband.”

Wulfwaru looked away from Hlothere trying to hide the sadness in her face. “Being married just over a year and a half King Konrád and I were just beginning to know and understand one another. The court in Kalisz is full of back stabbers and vipers. There are plots and murders everywhere. I am amazed the Kingdom of Great Moravia is able to survive.”

Shocked Hlothere said, “I pray your husband was not a victim of one those plots.”

Wulfwaru looked back at Hlothere. He could see tears welling up in her eyes. “I and several members of the court believe he was.”

Intrigued Hlothere asked, “Why believe as you do?”

Wulfwaru sniffled and replied, “At first they said Konrád suffered from some type of food poisoning. A few members of court and a couple of vassals tried to accuse me of me killing him.”

Shocked Hlothere said, “Oh my. Not a good place to be in.”

Wulfwaru nodded, “To say I was frightened for my life was an understatement. Finally, when they could not build a case against me, they changed the cause of death to a disagreeable meal.”

Hlothere chuckled, “Do you know why someone who kill the king?”

Wulfwaru again nodded, “many in court including myself think it was either his brother Bohuslav or one of his brother’s supporters.”

Obviously sad and angry Wulfwaru replied, “During Konrád’s regency the Law of Succession was changed to Agnatic Gavelkind from elective. Bohuslav became heir and inherited upon Konrád’s death.”

Hlothere asked, “Why Bohuslav?”

Wulfwaru smirked, “He is both weak in the body and in his mind. He can be controlled. Konrád was stronger and he had me. Many in the court disliked me. They felt I would be able to make Konrád a strong king who would curtail much of what the nobility has been able to get away with in Great Moravia.”

Hlothere shook his head, “That is why you have been sent away from court there.”

Wulfwaru nodded sadly, “Yes. They feared me and what I could do to them.”

They were silent for a moment and then Hlothere said, “You missed Judith by a few days.”

Wulfwaru looked at her uncle, “Why was she here?”

Realizing that Wulfwaru did not know of the current events in Jorvik Hlothere replied, “She brought her daughter Wulfrun to take her oaths and swear fidelity to the king as Countess of Leicester.”

Surprised Wulfwaru said, “The little girl, what is she three, four years old? Is now Countess of Leicester. What befell Count Harold?”

Hlothere peeked out the window to see how close they were to the palace and returned his gaze to his niece, “Four, Wulfrun is four.”

Wulfwaru nodded.

Hlothere continued, “Harold was found dead one morning. It is said he died of depression.”

Wulfwaru cocked her head, “Depression? What was he depressed over?”

Hlothere sighed, “He was the last male of the House of Atra. They say he fell into a deeper and deeper depression and he would not eat for days. All because he was not able to produce a male heir to continue the line. The House of Atra now ends with Wulfrun.”

Wulfwaru shook her head, “Such a shame. I guess my brother was delighted. I am sure dealing with my brother also contributed to his depression.”

Hlothere hated to admit, “Harold was a troublesome vassal and now was no more.”

Wulfwaru smirked, “No more problems from Leicester for a long while to come.”

Hlothere frowned, “I wish it was so. There is still the matter of the Eastern Orthodox faith that Harold left behind.”

Wulfwaru seemed disgusted, “That is a matter for the priests and bishops. It should not involve the crown.”

Hlothere rubbed his chin, “I wish it were so easy.”

Wulfwaru shook her head, “Tell my father to issue a decree. He is good at that.”

Hlothere could still sense that there was the deep-down bitterness that Wulfwaru had for father going back to when she was a little girl and got punished several times for reading her father’s correspondence. He let the subject drop. What came next was the topic he dreaded ever since Wulfwaru stepped off the ship.

Wulfwaru said, “We have spoke of many things but the one topic you have not broached is my mother. How does she fare?”

Timidly Hlothere responded, “She is well.”

Wulfwaru was now on guard, “Is she here in Jorvik?”

Hlothere took a deep breath, “Yes”

Short answers mean problems, thought Wulfwaru. “Can I see her?”

Still hoping to avoid the subject Hlothere responded, “I am sure that it can be arranged.”

Wulfwaru chuckled, “Arranged? What is she locked in the tower?”

Seeing Hlothere’s expression Wulfwaru’s demeanor changed and her voice became louder, “She is locked in the tower. Why? What warrants such treatment?”

Hlothere remained quiet.

Growing annoyed Wulfwaru demanded, “Well”

Hlothere swallowed, “She had a child by a man other than your father.”

Wulfwaru closed her eyes and tilted her head back. When she opened her eyes, she was looking at the ceiling of the coach. She slowly brought her head down and fixed her gaze upon her uncle. “Who is the father?”

Still unsure of how Wulfwaru was taking this Hlothere slowly answered, “Rígán, Marshal of Mide.”

Wulfwaru shook her head, “I surmise my father did not take being made a cuckold well.”

Hlothere shook his head, “No he did not.”

Wulfwaru pulled the blind back and looked out, “My mother to the tower. When was Rígán executed?”

Hlothere grinned, “He was not.”

Surprised Wulfwaru asked, “He was not. What happened to him?”

Hlothere looked at Wulfwaru, “He was made Regent of Mide.”

Wulfwaru raised her eyebrows, “Regent? How?”

Hlothere smirked, “Your father made sure he was appointed. That way your father has someone as regent he can control.”

Wulfwaru stared off and not expecting an answer asked, “Why would mother bed another man?”

When Hlothere answered Wulfwaru was surprised, “Your father has cancer.” Hesitantly Hlothere continued, “If affects him.”

Sadden Wulfwaru understood and nodded.

The carriage came to a halt and the door opened. A guard held his hand for Wulfwaru who took it. He aided her out of the carriage. Once Hlothere was out they walked through a line of guards and up the stairs and into the keep.

 

[tpmcinty]

Chapter 7.19

7.19.1

March 1024
Dyflinn, Dyflinn

The room was dark except for the dim light from the dying fire in the hearth. Rædwald awoke with a start. He had a dark feeling he was not alone. He rolled to his side and let his eyes adjust to the light. In the chair by his bed sat his cat staring at him. He smiled and rolled back over and closed his eyes and began to drift off.

Suddenly his eyes opened wide and rolled back over kicking the covers off. He quickly rose and sat on the side of the bed. He looked at the cat again and rubbed his eyes. Once his vision cleared, he stared again at the cat.

In an unsure voice he said, “What are you doing here. You are dead.”

The cat smiled. Yes, it actually smiled. Then meowed, “Yes I am.”

Rædwald nearly jumped out if skin. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes again. “What the devil?’

The cat looked at him and responded, “Not the devil. Just I, the one creature who loved you unconditionally just as you loved me.”

Still confused Rædwald said, “I do not believe. I cannot see you clearly.”

The cat purred and actually clapped his front paws. The room was suddenly filled with light blinding Rædwald momentarily. When his vision returned Rædwald looked at the cat and thought someone was playing a prank as there sat a man in what must be a cat costume. Rædwald examined the catman carefully and to his horror realized it was not a costume but actually a man-sized cat.

Rædwald swallowed the lump in his throat and asked, “Why?”

The cat licked it paw and replied, “As I did in life, I am here to comfort you.”

Rædwald stuttered, “Comfort me?”

The cat used the wet paw to clean his head behind his one ear, “Yes you have been worried over these Irish wars.”

Confused Rædwald said, “Why would I be worried? We have brought Chief Snorri to his knees in less than five months. Tomorrow he surrenders.”

The cat started licking its other paw, “But did you do it? Or did others do it?”

Rædwald narrowed his eyes and replied, “It matters not.”

The cat paused from licking its paw and looked at the king, “It matters to you. The Scottish Earl Stephan of Tyrconnell led an army of levies from Scotland, Connachta, Tír Eoghain, and Ulaidh to victory over Chief Snorri at Ath Cliath. It troubles you no levies from Jorvik were present.”

Silently Rædwald stared hard at the cat who appeared to be enjoying this. The cat continued, “After the siege of the Dyflinn Tribe was laid down did the levies of Jorvik and Mide join. Command, however, fell to Mayor Ríán of Dún Bhun na Gaillimhe, a commander from Connachta, not Jorvik.”

Annoyed Rædwald responded, “You twist things. I have always used the best commander to lead.”

The cat now resumed its grooming, “That is what you tell yourself, but it was Ríán who conquered the Dyflinn Tribe and crushed Snorri’s army at Thirlestane’ It is Ríán who brought you your victory here.”

Anger building Rædwald snarled, “Why do you torment me?”

Using its paw to clean its other ear the cat responded, “I am your loving cat. I am not tormenting you. I only speak the truth, so you may find peace.”

With his face reddening Rædwald responded, “Truth is that what you call it?”

The cat knew to change topics, “Why were you not by your mother Eadhild when she died?”

Rædwald’s mood changed and he looked down at the floor.

The cat smirked, “Was it because you could not look upon the deformed creature the leprosy had made of her before it took her life?”

With tears in his eyes Rædwald looked up, “That thing was not my mother.”

The cat chuckled, “She died alone wondering where you had gone.”

Rædwald stood up and was raised his arm to strike the cat. The cat hissed showing his fangs and claws. Realizing he would be torn to shreds Rædwald staggered back to the bed. He did not sit but leaned with one hand on the bed.

The cat returned to its peaceful manner, “Some deaths, however, are good for the kingdom such as the murder of the French King Nicolas II. Now his young son who has seen only three winters rules as Nicolas III. His regents see no purpose in antagonizing Rome and have ended the anti-papacy of Stephanus V.”

Rædwald removed his hand from the bed and stood straight. He adjusted his bed clothing and said, “Now maybe France will look more favorable upon us again as they did when Renaud was king.”

The cat nodded and smiled, “What of little Count Wulfstan of Dunholm. The poor boy of nine was taken by the camp fever. Now his sister Mildrith is Countess of Gloucester and Dunholm.”

With no emotion Rædwald replied, “That is an issue for Hlothere and Eadweard to work out.”

The cat shook his head rapidly several times and said, “Will the new Chief of Ulaidh Ólchobar be a good and loyal lord like his father Eláir was before he died attending to chamber business?”

Rædwald chuckled, “If he fails to do so he will face my wraith.”

The cat changed mood back to dark again, “Like your wife?”

Taking offense Rædwald replied, “She is lucky that I only locked her in the tower. She deserved much worse.”

The cat’s eyes narrowed, “Now she is sick with the flu and you abandon her.”

Defensively Rædwald responded, “I had Beorhthelm attend to her. I have shown her mercy.”

The cat growled, “You tell yourself such tales to comfort yourself from your sins.”

Getting angry again Rædwald asked, “Why do you torment and provoke me?”

With its voice changing the cat responded, “I am a cat and does a cat not play with his prey?”

Stunned Rædwald replied, “Prey?” To Rædwald’s horror the cat began to change. The fur disappeared, and the ears and face remolded itself. The tail was absorbed into its body. When Rædwald saw what the cat had become he screamed, “No, it can’t be.”

Hjalmar looked at his brother from the chair. His eyes were still the eyes of a cat. An evil smile came to his face. “Time to pay your debt.”

Rædwald noticed that his dagger was now in Hjalmar’s hand. With the speed and grace of a cat Hjalmar leapt from the chair. He was upon Rædwald in a flash. Rædwald tried to defend himself all the while screaming. He was losing and feel to his knees. Hjalmar kept slashing at him.

The door to the room exploded open and banged against the wall. With sword drawn Hlothere charged into the room and seeing the scene before him stopped cold. Rædwald knelt on the floor with slashes on his arms, chest, and face. His bed shirt has been slashed to rags. Most concerning was Rædwald held the dagger poised to plunge it into his chest.

Hlothere put his sword down and slowly moved toward his brother. Breathing heavily Rædwald looked at him with wide eyes full of terror. His lips quivered in fear. Hlothere reached him and slowly reached for the dagger. To the prince’s relief Rædwald did not move the dagger. In a quick motion Hlothere grabbed the bloody dagger out of his brother’s shaking hand.

Once the dagger was out of his hand Rædwald relaxed. He looked at Hlothere and said, “Thank God you came. Hjalmar was going to kill me, but you drove him away.” Rædwald then collapsed into his brother’s arms.

Several hours later Hlothere and Beorhthelm stood outside the closed door of the room.

In a low voice Beorhthelm said, “I have dressed his wounds. None will take his life. I have given him something to make him sleep.”

Hlothere nodded, “That is good. What happened?”

Beorhthelm shrugged his shoulders, “I know not what. Perhaps all the pressure and burdens he bares as king caused a breaking of his mind. The madness has been with him for many, many years. Some would say it was only a matter of time before this happened.”

Concerned Hlothere asked, “Will he recover?”

Beorhthelm frowned. “It is too early to tell. He may or may not. I will not know for perhaps weeks or even months.”

Hlothere asked, “Tomorrow?”

Beorhthelm shook his head, “He will not be able to accept the surrender of Chief Snorri. You must do it for him.”

Sighing Hlothere nodded, “Is there anything that we can do?”

Beorhthelm took a deep breath, “Make preparations to move him. He needs to be away from here. I would recommend Richmond. There he can rest away from court and its pressures and demands.”

Hlothere nodded, “It will be done.”

 

[tpmcinty]

7.19.2

August 1024
Barony of Richmond

Eadweard entered the room that had been used by the kings of Jorvik for many years as a retreat from the pressures and demands of being king. Eadweard had only been here a few times in his life. His father had not traveled to Richmond as his forefathers had for the summers. The few times he did he was on his way to somewhere else.

Eadweard walked across the room to one of the large windows and looked out of them. He heard a sound behind and turned to see Jarl Ealdmund standing behind him.

Eadweard smiled, “It is good to see you again, Jarl Ealdmund.”

Ealdmund smiled and nodded, “It is good to see you, my prince.”

Eadweard face filled with concern, “How does he fare today?”

As Ealdmund walked over to the table that held a pitcher of wine and some cups he replied, “He does well. There are more good days. We have not had anything like the incident in Dyflinn.”

Eadweard nodded, “That is good.”

Ealdmund poured wine for both of them and walked back to Eadweard. He handed the prince a cup who nodded his appreciation. Both took a sip and Eadweard asked, “Does he have an interest in the kingdom?”

Ealdmund nodded, “Yes, he still rules. Beorhthelm and I screen what he is told.”

Eadweard looked at Ealdmund suspiciously.

Sensing the prince’s concern, Ealdmund said, “We do not rule in his stead. That is why we have asked you to come. You are needed to watch over the kingdom.”

Eadweard nodded, “I understand.” The prince sipped some wine and asked, “Will he recover?”

Ealdmund sipped wine and shrugged is shoulders, “It is not known.”

Eadweard looked out the window, “How did you get him to agree to stay here?”

Ealdmund sighed, “Beorhthelm told him it is the cancer and he must be here to be treated.” Ealdmund gazed out the window, “It is not a complete lie. Beorhthelm believes the cancer is making his mental state worse.”

Eadweard turned from the window and looked at Ealdmund, “What can I do?”

Ealdmund took another sip and a deep breath, “Let your father handle the easy things. Decide what he should know and what he can rule on. Anything difficult consult with whomever you feel you need to, be it one person or Council and decide in your father’s stead.”

Eadweard nodded and sipped some wine, “where do we begin?”

Ealdmund pointed to the table and the chairs, “The war with the Irish.”

Eadweard sat at the table while Ealdmund went to the table and picked up the pitcher. He came back to the table and filled Eadweard’s cup. He filled his cup and sat the pitcher down. He sat across from the prince.

Eadweard said, “Emrys has taken command of the war?”

Ealdmund nodded, “Yes, he has. With an army of Jorvikians, Connachtans, and Tarans he defeated Earl Fer-Fugaill of Tuadhmhumhain at Cill Dálua and has laid siege to Bun na Raite”

Eadweard looked at Ealdmund, “All is not well, however.”

Ealdmund chuckled, “Have your own resources, I see.”

Eadweard laughed, “I had a good teacher.” The prince lifted his cup and toasted Ealdmund.

Ealdmund smiled and returned the toast, “Earl Fer-Fugaill managed to raise another army and march across Ireland. He has unwisely landed on the Isle of Man and laid siege to Rushen. Emrys has taken half of the army from the siege of Bun na Raite to destroy Fer-Fugaill.”

Eadweard nodded and sat back in his chair. “What of Scotland now that King Uhtred died from the camp fever?”

Ealdmund finished a sip, “Now that your second cousin once removed Gilchrist has been elected king the Scottish pursue the war against the English with renewed vigor.”

Eadweard nodded, “I had feared that the regent would not support the war.”

Ealdmund shook his head, “That was never a concern. Regaining what had been lost to the English was always paramount to the Scottish. What is troublesome is what goes on across the channel.”

Eadweard took a sip of wine and asked, “Alliances?”

Ealdmund nodded and frowned, “Yes. King Hermann of Germany has committed to join in King Ælfgar’s war.”

Eadweard leaned forward and with a measure of concern asked, “What of King Diogo of Galicia?” We do not need his troops appearing alongside the English.”

Ealdmund took a long drink of wine, “Diogo’s alliance with King Josselin of Burgundy has broken down.”

Eadweard smiled, “That is good.”

Ealdmund expressed concern, “Yes, it is but what is troublesome is some of the four wars he is involved in have ended.”

Eadweard was now concerned, “Less wars for Diogo means his levies could be sent to fight alongside the English. Which wars have ended?”

Ealdmund took a deep breath, “Diogo has defeated Duke Alvar of Gascogne in the Gascognian Holy War for Navarra. He is close to winning the Salamancan Holy War for León and the Aslamid Holy War for Galicia.”

Eadweard frowned, “That could become very troublesome. All the more reason to finish the Irish war and crush Ælfgar quickly.”

The meeting was suddenly interrupted by the crying and screaming of a young girl. Ælfthryth came running into the room. Seeing Eadweard she ran toward him with tears rolling down her cheeks. “Eadweard, Eadweard,” she called.

Seeing her Eadweard opened his arms and leaned down. She ran into his arms and buried her face into his chest. He hugged, “What is wrong dear sister?”

She pulled her head out of his chest and looked up into his face, “He threw them all away.”

Confused Eadweard brushed the tears from her cheeks and asked, “threw what away?”

Ælfthryth did not answer. Instead Wulfwaru did, “Her toys.”

Surprised Eadweard looked at Wulfwaru standing behind Ælfthryth. He had not heard or seen her enter the room. “Who threw them out?” he asked.

Wulfwaru helped Ælfthryth away from Eadweard. She held her hand and looked at Eadweard harshly. “Father, of course.”

Eadweard cocked his head and asked, “Why?”

Wulfwaru glared at Eadweard, “Because he is out of his mind.”

Ælfthryth said between sobs, “He told me he would buy me a new one. I don’t want a new one. I want my toys.”

Wulfwaru bent down and looked Ælfthryth in the face, “Yes I know. I will take care of it. Now go with Helen.” Wulfwaru stood and stepped aside. She directed Ælfthryth toward the doorway where her nanny stood. Ælfthryth walked slowly to her. As she reached Helen she turned and said, “You won’t forget Wulfwaru.”

Wulfwaru smiled and replied, “No I won’t.”

Wulfwaru turned to Eadweard and glared at him, “Something must be done. He is getting out of control.”

Eadweard shook his head, “He is king. There is little that can be done.”

Wulfwaru shook her head and clinched her fists, “Something must be.”

Siblings glared at one another until Ealdmund interrupted, “Princess steps are being taken to protect the kingdom.”

Eadweard nodded, “Do not worry, sister.”

Wulfwaru relaxed some, “I hope you are right.”

Ealdmund walked away from the siblings.

Wulfwaru looked at Eadweard and said, “Have you seen mother?”

Eadweard answered sharply, “No why should I?”

Wulfwaru glared at him, “See misses you and is hurt by how you are treating her.”

Eadweard glared right back her, “I hurt her. What about how she hurt father and I?”

Wulfwaru responded, “She is truly sorry and been punished enough.”

Eadweard leaned closer to her and said, “I don’t care how sorry she is or how much she thinks she has been punished.”

He did not give her time to answer. He turned and walked away from her toward the windows. Wulfwaru watched him anger building. Finally, she let out the breath she was holding, turned and stormed out the room.

Ealdmund walked over to Eadweard. In a low voice he said, “There is one other matter.”

Eadweard could sense it was not good and asked, “What is it?”

Ealdmund took a deep breath and said, “There is a plot to kill your father.”

Eadweard responded, “I suspected as much.” He turned to Eadweard, “Find all you can about it.”

Ealdmund nodded, “Yes, milord.”

The spymaster turned and left the prince looking out of the window.

 

[tpmcinty]

7.19.3

January 1025
Westminster, Middlesex

King Ælfgar sat at the table nursing his ale. His brother Ealdmund Osheresson entered the room. Ælfgar pointed to the seat, “Sit brother. Your ale is growing stale.”

Grumbling to himself Ealdmund sat down. He picked up the mug and drank the entire vessel in a few gulps.

Ælfgar cocked the eyebrow of his one good eye and asked, “What troubles you?”

Ealdmund reached for the pitcher and poured more ale, “That damn Welshman.”

Ælfgar smirked, “Jarl Emrys of Deheubarth.”

Ealdmund drank more ale and nodded, “Of course.”

Ælfgar thought he knew the answer but asked anyway, “How does he trouble you?”

Ealdmund shook his finger at his brother, “Ever since Rædwald fled to wherever he went and Emrys took command of the armies in the field we have had nothing but setbacks.”

Ælfgar played with his eye patch, a habit he had developed when he was nervous or upset. “How is Emrys’ crushing defeat of Earl Fer-Fugaill of Tuadhmhumhain at Rushen a setback for us.”

Ealdmund finished his ale and slammed him mug on the table, “Defeating Fer-Fugaill allowed Emrys the freedom to move where he wanted. Once he received word of Eadwulf Thorædsson with our English levies marching to Lothian he was able to intercept Eadwulf and defeat him at Burgh.”

Ælfgar frowned and drank some ale, “That has been most unfortunate.”

Ealdmund filled his mug again and drank, “Where are our so-called allies? When will the German and Galicians levies arrive?”

Ælfgar tried to look cheerful, “King Hermann has promised his German levies will arrive next month.”

Ealdmund lifted his cup and looked over the rim at his brother, “And Diogo?”

Ælfgar looked away from his brother and replied, “He still fights three wars in Iberia.”

Ealdmund finished his drink, “Two of which he has almost won. The other is only a matter of time before the Galicians win.”

Ælfgar grinned, “They will come. Have they not in the past? Did they not aid us against the Scots before, and against the Gloucesterians, and Prince Hlothere and his Gwyneddian levies?”

Ealdmund shook his head, “Yes they have but whenever we are up against the Jorvikian Kingdom they are conveniently absent.”

Getting annoyed Ælfgar asked, “Do you not trust them?”

Ealdmund set his mug down hard, “No I do not. Far too much English blood has been spilled in Iberia and far too little Galician here.”

Angrily Ælfgar replied, “What would you have me do?”

Ealdmund shook his head and threw his arms in the air, “It matters little. With the fall of Bun na Raite and the surrender of Earl Fer-Fugaill, Emrys has no worries when campaigning against us. Clydesdale is all but lost barring a miracle.”

Ælfgar shook his head and frowned, “It pains me to hear you speak so.”

Ealdmund chuckled, “Do you think I feel good about it? I only speak the truth.”

Ælfgar sighed and nodded. He finished his ale and poured more, “After the Scottish War is done you think Rædwald will come at us?”

Ealdmund thought for a moment, “For Wiltshire he may.”

Intrigued Ælfgar asked, “Not Teviotdale?”

Ealdmund shook his head, “Count Eadwine of Cumberland holds the claim to Teviotdale. Rædwald has no love for the count. No if they come it will be for Wiltshire.”

Ælfgar nodded, “I feel you are right.”

Ealdmund finished his ale and went to pour more and discovered the pitcher empty. Disappointed he put the pitcher down, “First we must determine the condition of King Rædwald. We still know not why he left Ireland. No one has seen him in court for many months. The Crown Prince was summoned from Northumberland and has sat in court in his father’s place.”

Ælfgar shrugged his shoulders, “Information is hard to come by from Jorvik. We know Rædwald has cancer. There are the rumors regarding his mental state. Some say he had a breakdown in Dyflinn and that is why he returned to Jorvik and why Eadweard acts in his stead.”

Ealdmund chuckled, “I wonder how long good King Rædwald has, and should we be thinking of the future?”

Confused Ælfgar said, “I know not what your meaning is.”

Ealdmund rubbed his chin, “If Rædwald dies or is deposed as king due to his mental state, Eadweard would become king.”

Still trying to follow Ælfgar said, “Yes, so?”

With a devilish look Eadweard said, “It is known that Eadweard is lazy and slow to act on occasion. He is also known to be paranoid at times.”

Not yet sure Ælfgar said, “Go on.”

Ealdmund grinned, “When Eadweard is crowned all of his father’s tributaries are released. If we act fast, we could make some or all of the former Jorvikian tributaries ours.”

Ælfgar smiled, “Now that is something to think about. It will take the sting out of losing Clydesdale.”

Ealdmund returned the smile, “Yes it would.”

Ælfgar laughed, “I believe we need more ale.”

The king signaled for more ale as he and Ealdmund plotted the future, an English future.

 

[tpmcinty]

7.19.4

May 1025
Richmond, Jorvik

Rædwald stood in the strategy room looking at the tapestry hanging in the back of the room. The tapestry displayed King Knut accepting the surrender of Queen Ealhsiwth of Merica. In the tapestry King Knut sat on his throne with his great sword raised in one hand. Queen Ealhswith, the last ruler of the Petty Kingdom of Mercia was groveling at his feet. The banners of Jorvik and the House of Hvitserk flew high and in the wind while the banner of Mercia lie in the dirt broken under the foot of Knut.

Rædwald turned to face the table and chairs. He noticed that one of the chairs were occupied. Rædwald looked at the man sitting there and smiled, “Count Siweard of Lincoln it is so good to see you again.”

Siweard returned the smile and said, “I am glad to be of service to you again.” The count pointed at the tapestry, “Your father had that tapestry made in the early years of his reign.”

Rædwald nodded, “All my life I have marveled at it.”

Siweard pointed at it, “It depicts the moment that Jorvik became the most powerful kingdom in the Isles.”

Rædwald looked back at the tapestry, “The House of Wiglafing no longer rules Mercia but is loyal to Jorvik in the form of Jarl Ealdmund of Powys.”

Siweard nodded, “Ealdmund is your Spymaster as I once was.”

Rædwald smiled proudly, “Yes he is, and he has done very well.”

Siweard looked at Rædwald, “You have done well for yourself.”

Embarrassed Rædwald asked, “How so?”

Siweard grinned, “You have conquered Dyflinn and Hylmrek. You have rewarded Yngvar of Llanelwy for his service to you by making him Count of Hylmrek.”

Rædwald nodded, “He served us well.”

Siweard stood, “With your aid King Gilchrist of Scotland retook Clydesdale from King Ælfgar of England.”

Rædwald smiled, “Once Emrys took Melrose. Ælfgar knew he could not win and finally surrendered.”

Siweard patted Rædwald on the shoulder and said, “Ælfgar’s allies did him no favors. King Hermann never sent his German levies. As King Diogo ended another of his wars, this one against Emir Keraja II of Algarve called the 3rd Algarvian Holy War for León with a white peace he still did not send any Galacian levies. Instead he declared an antipope in Calahorra named Honorius III.”

Rædwald smirked, “That could be advantageous to us as it puts him in disfavor with our Holy Father, Pope Gregorius V.”

Siweard stood in front of the king, “You are wise thinking so. One must make the most of opportunities when they come.”

Rædwald looked deeply at Siweard, “I had good teachers.”

Siweard walked away from the tapestry and to the table where the wine was kept. He offered some to Rædwald who poured himself a cup and drank some. Siweard held a cup in his hand that may have or may not have held wine.

Siweard offered a toast, “I congratulate you on the marriage of your brother Prince Sigeberht to Princess Richenza of Bavaria, the daughter of King Hermann of Bavaria.”

Rædwald returned the toast. “It was a grand ceremony. I made Sigeberht the Chief of Dyflinn as a wedding present.”

Siweard smiled, “That was a fine present. What land will you give Prince Eilif when he comes of age?”

Proudly Rædwald replied, “I have order Chancellor Strula to find a claim for Devon that can be used to gain that county, so it can be given to Eilif.”

Concern came to Siweard, “What of women in the kingdom? Do you still plan to pursue your proposal?”

Rædwald nodded and became very serious, “I wish that women can be spymasters for the kingdom. Too often women with certain talents were underused or not used at all due to our traditions. I know not where this change came about. Perhaps when we tried to be Anglo-Saxon instead of remaining true to ourselves. At one time women were shieldmaidens and fought alongside men and died for Jorvik.”

Siweard looked sad and said, “I am sorry, but my time is done, and I must return.”

Rædwald nodded and said, “I understand. But one question before you go.”

Siweard seemed desperate, “You must make it fast.”

Rædwald smiled, “I am thinking of having a Runestone made for my father.”

Siweard smiled, “I think that would be a great honor for him.”

Smiling broadly Rædwald turned and returned to gazing at the tapestry.

*****

Hlothere stood in the doorway watching his brother. As Rædwald finished speaking Eadweard walked up to Hlothere.

“Greetings Uncle. How are we today?”

Hlothere took a deep breath, “It has been a good day.”

Eadweard nodded, “Any visitors?”

Hlothere nodded half heartily, “Apparently Siweard.”

Eadweard half smiled, “At least it was no one who would upset him.”

Hlothere looked back at his brother, “That is true.” He looked back at Eadweard, “He spoke of the Runestone for King Eilif again.”

Eadweard looked at his father, “Perhaps we should allow it. It will keep him calm and focused on something real.”

Hlothere smiled and looked back at his brother, “I will speak to him later about it. I am sure it will make him happy.”