by Martin Lake
‘No,’ Ulf said. ‘You saw the attack on the village as well as I did. I want you to tell the king what you saw.’
Cuthred began to shake his head but Ulf ignored it and led the way into the Hall.
It was larger and better made than any of Alfred’s other halls, including the one at Cheddar. It stretched almost a hundred feet from end to end and a man would take twenty paces to cross from one side to another. The roof was so high it swallowed all of the smoke from the rush-lights and fires and the air below remained clear. Ulf and Holdwine could make out the features of the men who were sitting at the feast-table. A few cried welcome and made room for them on the bench.
Ulf thanked them but shook his head, leading his friends to the high table where the King and his captains were eating.
‘Welcome, Ulf and Holdwine,’ Alfred said. He gave a questioning look towards Cuthred.
‘This is Cuthred, the smith from my village,’ Ulf said hurriedly. ‘I thought it meet that he come here to add to the tale I bring.’
He glanced at the people sitting on either side of the king. To Alfred’s left was a young woman, not his wife Ealswith but his mistress, Merewyn. Ulf felt the familiar racing of his heart when he saw her. He had fallen in love with her the day he first saw her. In the five years since he had never found a girl to really take her place in his heart, not even Siflaed. Next to her was her young son, Osferth. Although he was a bastard, Alfred not only acknowledged him but had named him Atheling, throne-worthy, potentially his heir. The boy was busy playing with his food, now, conjuring armies from his lentils, as his father conjured them from the kingdom.
To Alfred’s right sat the proclaimed heir, his son Edward, a tall boy of eleven years or so. He grinned at Ulf and Holdwine and bade them welcome, echoing his father’s words. Next to him was his elder sister, Aethelflaed. It had been two years since Ulf had seen her and in that time she had changed from a girl to a young woman. He felt a blush cross his cheek as she gazed at him with her familiar, frank and clever gaze.
Ulf looked round swiftly. If Aethelflaed was here then his sister, Inga would be close by to serve her. He did not see her but into his mind loomed the image of the Dane, Ketil.
‘You are late,’ said the man next to Edward. ‘You should have been here a week ago.’ He gave Ulf a hard and searching look.
‘I’m sorry, Edgwulf,’ Ulf answered. ‘I was delayed for good reason and it was good that I was. For I have news.’ He glanced at Holdwine who nodded in support.
‘Well spit it out,’ said the man sitting beside Edgwulf. ‘It’s not like you to be tongue-tied.’ Ealdorman Ethelnoth was Ealdorman of Somerset, his birth-shire, and his words were a command.
Ulf glanced at Edgwulf to see his reaction. The Horse-thegn was his lord, had been so since the day he paid wergild and freed him from slavery. Yet Ulf felt he had to tread a fine line of allegiance between him, Ethelnoth and the King. Inga told him he was a fool for worrying about it, for the lords seemed to be unconcerned with such distinctions. Yet Ulf knew that matters of lordship, even if ignored day to day, were still the essential ties between men.
Edgwulf leaned forward and cradled his chin upon his hands. ‘Ulf, is this news fit for the mead-hall?’ he asked quietly.
Ulf blinked in surprise. The Horse-thegn thought more deeply on matters of strategy than even the king. He was right, the news should be kept as quiet as possible, not told to every thegn and servant. He cursed himself for not thinking of this, thankful that Edgwulf had stopped him in time.
‘You’re right, lord,’ he said. ‘It is not for every wagging ear.’
Alfred’s eyebrow rose at this. Something in Ulf’s words sent a chill into his heart. He climbed to his feet and strode out of the hall towards his private quarters with Edgwulf and Ethelnoth following. After a moment’s hesitation, so did Daeglaf, the Ealdorman of Wiltshire and another man who Ulf did not know.
‘Come on then,’ Aethelflaed said to Ulf, leaping to her feet. ‘What are you waiting for?’
She beckoned Ulf and Holdwine to follow her. Ulf dragged Cuthred along with him.
The king’s chamber was at the back of the hall, separated from the main chamber by a small ante-room, a space for two bodyguards. He had resisted this at first but Edgwulf had insisted. The Horse-thegn had never forgotten the treachery of the previous Ealdorman of Wiltshire nor that of a senior thegn. He realised that, despite Alfred’s great victories, his life remained in constant danger, even in his own Hall.
Alfred and the lords were already seated by the time Ulf arrived.
‘So what is so important that it detains you for so long and cannot be spoken of openly?’ Alfred demanded.
‘A Viking fleet,’ Ulf said. ‘Moored at the old Roman city of Lunden.’
‘How many ships?’ The concern was clear in his voice.
‘Forty.’
Alfred frowned. ‘Why would Guthrum send forty Longships to Lunden?’
‘They were not Guthrum’s ships,’ Ulf said. ‘These men are not Danes, they’re Norsemen. Their ships were longer and narrower than Danish ones. More suited for ocean voyages.’
‘Is that the only reason you thought them Norse and not Danish?’ Daeglaf asked.
‘No,’ said Ulf. ‘The Danish lord of Lunden, Ketil, told me so. He seemed surprised when their fleet appeared.’
‘Ketil?’ Aethelflaed said.
Ulf glanced at her and nodded.
‘Why were you talking with a Danish lord?’ said the man who Ulf had not seen before. His voice sounded suspicious.
Ulf bridled at his tone, feeling his loyalty was being called into question. He did not answer for a moment.
‘Well?’ the man said.
‘Answer Ealdorman Sighelm,’ Edgwulf said.
Ulf stared at the man. So this was the Ealdorman of East Kent. His reputation was mixed, some men praising him, others condemning. He was a Jute, of course, which made many Saxons wary.
‘I had gone to the city to try to gain the release of one of my villagers,’ Ulf said. ‘I thought she had been taken captive by the Norsemen.’
‘The men from the Norse fleet?’ Ethelnoth asked.
‘No, my lord. Half a dozen Norse ships attacked my village a few days earlier. They were led by a man called Hrólfr. It was they who had taken the woman.’
‘You seem to be on familiar terms with any number of heathens,’ Sighelm said.
‘Not willingly,’ Ulf said. He stared at Sighelm, not long enough to be considered disrespectful, but enough to show he was not a man to be daunted.
‘This question and answer is wearisome and unproductive,’ Alfred said. ‘Tell me the whole story from beginning to end, Ulf.’
‘He should have some wine,’ Aethelflaed said. ‘He has ridden hard to get here.’ She called for one of the bodyguards and told him to send a woman with refreshments.
Cuthred had been surprised to see such a young girl at this conference. He now looked amazed at her making such a decision. The other men, however, seemed unconcerned. They were accustomed to Aethelflaed and her ways.
Wine and bread were brought by a servant and Ulf began his tale. There were a few interruptions from the ealdormen at first but Alfred showed his displeasure at this and they fell silent until Ulf had finished.
He took a long swallow of his ale, thankful to have concluded.
The first one to speak was Aethelflaed. ‘You said this Danish lord was called Ketil,’ she said. ‘Was he one of Guthrum’s men?’
‘He was, my lady. He was the leader of the hostages who came to us from Chippenham.’
He watched her carefully to see her reaction. Her eyes flashed and she smiled, although she swiftly hid this.
‘It doesn’t matter who he was,’ said Edgwulf. ‘What is important is that he seemed surprised by the arrival of the second Norse fleet.’
‘Why is that important?’ Daeglaf asked.
‘If he’d been expecting them it would seem to me that Guthrum has broken his pl
edge of peace,’ Edgwulf answered. ‘Ketil’s surprise suggests that the Norsemen may be acting alone, without Guthrum’s knowledge or consent.’
‘So this would be less of a threat?’ Daeglaf asked.
‘For a while, maybe,’ Ethelnoth said. ‘But I doubt Guthrum will keep his pledge of peace if he scents advantage in breaking it.’
‘He has kept it for five years,’ Alfred said.
‘An injured wolf doesn’t hunt until its strength has returned.’
Silence fell. All considered Ethelnoth’s words carefully. The more they did so the more their disquiet grew.
‘Wasn’t this Ketil the Dane who was kind to you, Aethelflaed?’ Alfred asked suddenly. ‘When you were held captive by the Danes.’
Aethelflaed seemed surprised by his question. ‘Yes. He was very kind. If it wasn’t for him we would have been harmed.’ The words faltered on her lips. She vividly recalled Guthrum’s monstrous brother Eohric and how he lusted for Inga and for her.
‘Do you think he would have lied to Ulf?’
Aethelflaed’s brows furrowed. ‘I don’t think he’s a liar,’ she said, ‘or a bad man.’
‘He’s a Dane,’ said Sighelm.
‘But not a bad one,’ she said firmly.
She reflected a little longer. ‘I don’t think he would lie without good reason,’ she said finally. ‘But I know all you great lords lie if you have to. Even you, father.’
Edgwulf gave a fleeting smile at this but Ethelnoth laughed out loud.
‘True, daughter,’ Alfred said. ‘Thank you for the lesson in statecraft.’
‘And you, Ulf?’ Edgwulf asked. ‘Do you think the Dane spoke truth or falsehood?’
‘I don’t think he lied,’ Ulf said. ‘I saw his reaction. He was as surprised by the arrival of the Norse ships as I was. And…’
‘And?’
Ulf gnawed on his lip. ‘I think he was angry at the sight of them. Almost worried.’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t be sure of this, though.’
Alfred and Edgwulf exchanged looks.
‘Perhaps the peace will hold,’ Alfred said.
‘Perhaps.’ The Horse-thegn’s eyes bent to the table, his forefinger making little circles on the wood. Alfred fell silent, waiting, patient.
‘It makes me consider Lunden and its strong walls again,’ Edgwulf said at last.
Alfred nodded. ‘As it does me. Perhaps we cannot let the sensibilities of the Mercians restrain our hand any longer.’
Ulf frowned and glanced at Holdwine, uncertain what this meant. He was not the only one. Daglaef and Sighelm seemed equally bemused.
Alfred leaned back against the wall, his hands cradling his head, as if he were seeking inspiration from the heavens. Finally, he straightened.
‘Lunden has long been a Mercian city,’ he explained. ‘They still claim it as theirs, even though the Danes have possession of it. They will not take kindly to we Saxons seizing it.’
Edgwulf sniffed. ‘It was a Saxon city before the Mercians took it.’
‘So it was, Edgwulf,’ Alfred said. He pondered the issue for a while before speaking once again. ‘I shall send an envoy to Ealdorman Æthelred. Tell him I will take Lunden from the Danes, whether he agrees or not.’
Now that he had made his decision his face looked hard and decisive.
Ulf recalled talk of Æthelred who ruled over Mercia, although he had not yet claimed kingship, but was said to be a powerful warrior.
‘Who will you send?’ Edgwulf asked.
Alfred pondered the question for a long while. ‘My son,’ he said at last. ‘And Ethelnoth will go with him.’
‘Why Edward?’ Aethelflaed asked.
‘He will be the next king of the English,’ Alfred said. ‘The Mercians and Ealdorman Æthelred may be alarmed at the thought of my power, less by my son’s.’
He took a deep breath. ‘But they will have to accept that we shall conquer Lunden and keep it. And become reconciled to the power of Wessex.’
A GREATER KINGDOM
May 883
King Alfred rode into Lambehitha at the head of fifty men: King’s-thegns, churchmen and the ealdormen of Surrey, East Kent and Sussex. Riding by Alfred’s side was his Horse-thegn, Edgwulf. Bringing up the rear were Merewyn, Aethelflaed, Osferth and Inga.
Tidhelm waited on the edge of the village. He bowed as the King halted and took his rein.
‘Welcome to my humble home, my lord,’ he said.
‘I am glad to be here,’ the King said. ‘And keen to hear news of the Danes and the Norse fleet.’
‘The Norse ships are still here,’ he said. ‘And only two days ago, a dozen more arrived, though my spies think they are Danes.’
Alfred stopped him. ‘We will talk of this later, in private. And tell your spies to say nothing more of this development.’
Servants hurried forward to take the mounts of the King and the ealdormen. A fine spring rain began to fall and Tidhelm led them towards the hall. He could not keep from glancing at the young woman who had been riding to the rear of the party. She was beautiful and young. Not Alfred’s wife, he thought. It must be his whore.
He personally helped her dismount. He glanced at Aethelflaed a moment, wondering whether to do the same for her. But she climbed down unaided before he had made up his mind. Inga did the same and then held out her hands for Osferth. Tidhelm frowned, thinking he had seen her before somewhere but unable to remember exactly.
Tidhelm had been lavish in preparing to receive the King and his party. His hall had been swept clean and laid with fresh smelling rushes mixed with herbs. The door had been left open and the fire unlit for days in order to clear the place of any lingering smell of smoke. Villages nearby had been ransacked for food, his own fine cellars depleted of salted meat, the last of the autumn fruit, cheese and the best ale and wine. The day before the king arrived hunters returned to the village with a fine young stag and two wild boars. A new building had been erected behind the hall to house the King and his family.
It was by such clever service that Tidhelm had held his lands, and thrived, for thirty years under five kings.
He personally escorted the King, Merewyn and Osferth to their lodgings. Merewyn beckoned Inga to follow.
‘Tomorrow is the first day of May,’ Tidhelm said to Merewyn. ‘I trust you are content at my arranging a feast to welcome the month and my King and lady.’
‘I’m delighted,’ she said.
‘With games and frolics for the little boy,’ he added, ruffling Osferth’s hair and giving an ingratiating chuckle.
‘Wonderful,’ she said. ‘He will like that.’ She forced a smile to her lips.
Tidhelm bowed and then turned to the King. ‘I shall wait upon you in my hall, lord,’ he said.
‘What an odious man,’ Merewyn said to Inga when he was out of earshot.
‘He’s a useful one,’ Alfred said. ‘He keeps a better eye on the Danes than a nobler man would. He uses thieves, vagabonds and outlaws as his eyes and ears. I sometimes think he’s of their brotherhood.’
‘But you trust him?’
‘With his life. There is no better guarantee of loyalty.’
Inga smiled to herself at his words. The whole world loved Alfred. The whole world except for her father Brand. He continually warned her that the king lacked all scruples and would stop at nothing to achieve his ends. There was truth in his opinion but it was not the whole truth.
Brand’s initial hatred of Alfred had gradually become a grudging respect. That was sufficient for the king. He would use whatever tool to hand, as long is it suited the need of the day. But she suspected that while he had no real liking for men such as Tidhelm he felt very differently towards Brand. There was a bond there, a wavering, fragile bond which had proved unbreakable. It was her father who had found him when he was lost to his followers and to himself. Neither man could ever forget that.
Edgwulf entered the hut and examined it briefly. ‘The whole of the village is safe,’ he said, ‘thou
gh these lodgings are too close to the river for my liking.’
‘All the better for me to observe the enemy,’ Alfred said with a smile. He flung himself onto a stool.
‘Inga,’ he said. ‘Fetch your brother to me. I want him to tell me again about the Viking ships.’
She returned a few minutes later with Ulf.
‘Shall I take the boy for a walk?’ Merewyn asked.
‘No,’ Alfred said. ‘I doubt if he, you or Inga are spies for the Danes.’
He gestured Ulf to sit. ‘Tell us again what you know of this Norse fleet and its leader. And of the Dane Ketil.’
Inga stared at the king in surprise. Ketil? The Dane who had been so kind to them.
She saw Ulf’s eyes dart towards her briefly. So, it was the same Ketil, she thought. And Ulf had not told her about their meeting.
Ulf frowned. ‘I’m not sure I can add to what I said in Winchester,’ he said.
‘You have had time for your thoughts to settle,’ Alfred said. ‘We might discover something important in a second telling.’
Inga busied herself with Osferth but put all her attention into listening for news of Ketil. She was not surprised to hear that Ketil had treated Ulf fairly, despite being his enemy. This proved that he was a man with a noble, honest and just nature. She knew this already from her encounter with him. She was pleased to hear that Guthrum had placed him in charge of Lunden, it showed that he was held in high esteem. The fact that he faced down Hrólfr showed that he had courage as well as kindness.
And then she found herself blushing. She was too interested in Ketil. Far too interested.
Edgwulf then began to question Ulf about the walls surrounding the city and the fortress within it. She was impressed with how thoroughly he spoke of this. He had a warrior’s eye, she thought.
Ulf concluded his account and sat back in his seat, relieved that he had reported everything so accurately. His relief lasted only moments.
‘Why do you think the Viking Hrólfr has brought a fleet here?’ Edgwulf asked. ‘And why has Guthrum allowed it?’
Inga could see that her brother was surprised by the question. He looked uncertain, his mouth moving soundlessly.
