by Martin Lake
Grimbold laughed. ‘So that’s why the King has commanded Rebekah lodges with his daughter. He wants you to conserve your paltry strength.’
Despite himself, Ulf laughed. It was a new thing for him, to be teased about a lover. In the past the laughter had been because he had known no women.
They reached the stable and Cuthred pointed out the horse he had selected for him. It was a chestnut stallion, fiery and strong. Ulf grinned with pleasure and relief.
It soon became apparent that Framwick was not the only one unhappy at the presence of Rebekah. Many of the warriors, including some of his old friends would mutter whenever she walked past. A few clutched at the crosses around their neck. And the worst, the most sneering, was his brother Osgar.
He had kept out of the way for a few days after Ulf had returned. But eventually, Inga’s nagging prevailed upon him.
‘So,’ he said. ‘The wanderer returns.’ He gave Ulf a cold look.
Ulf nodded. ‘And glad I am to be back.’
If he was waiting for his brother to echo the response he was out of luck. Osgar merely stood there, his arms crossed, his face impassive, staring.
Ulf battled with the wave of disappointment which seized him. ‘You’ve grown, little brother.’
‘Not so little any more,’ Osgar said. ‘Though dwarfed by you, so I’m told.’
Ulf sucked in a deep breath, watching for any opening. He could find none so he plunged in.
‘You still feel angry that I came to your aid in the battle.’
Osgar gave a derisive bark. ‘You flatter yourself, Ulf. I did not need your aid and whether you gave it or not is of no importance to me.’
Ulf grinned. ‘Well, that’s a relief then. For both of us.’
He took a step closer but then the smile froze on his face. Osgar was unmoved, merely stared at Ulf with belligerent challenge.
Ulf stopped, uncertainly, realising that his clumsy attempt at reconciliation had fallen flat. A sense of dismay seized him. It was if the childhood links which had bound them were suddenly flying away.
Osgar’s face twisted in a mocking grin. ‘I hear that you’ve taken a half woman as your bed-mate.’ He shook his head, as if he were the older brother admonishing his junior. ‘Not wise, Ulf. It will upset our lovely Wessex maids and make the other warriors doubt you.’
‘Doubt me?’ Ulf said, coldly.
‘Sleeping with the enemy. There’s no treachery so bad.’
‘She’s not the enemy.’
Osgar laughed. ‘That’s not what people say.’
‘Then they speak of what they don’t know.’
Osgar smiled. ‘That’s true, dear brother. For you alone appear to know her. Too well.’
He smiled and then continued. ‘But don’t worry that other men might desire to know her. No one else would risk touching her.’
Ulf’s fists clenched. The blood rage began to pound in his ears. He fought to get a grip on himself. If it had been anyone else than Osgar he would not have struggled so hard.
‘Temper, temper,’ Osgar said, raising an admonishing finger.
Ulf took a deep breath. ‘Oh, you’ve grown alright, Osgar,’ he said. ‘You’re larger in body and much, much greater in arrogance. Yet you’re far smaller in stature.’
He strode away. Osgar’s mocking laugh followed him.
DEBATE AND DISSENT
August 884
‘You must be mad,’ Holdwine said.
‘It will drive me mad if I don’t do it,’ Ulf said. ‘I’m sick of being kept apart from Rebekah and sicker still at the way people act towards her.’
‘Alfred wants no dissension in his army. It’s best if you just let it lie.’
Ulf grabbed hold of Holdwine’s arm and stared deep into his face. ‘I thought you were my friend.’
‘I am. And that’s why I’m advising you against this action.’
‘Well I don’t like your advice.’
Holdwine’s talk of dissension brought back the memory of when he first met the King. It grew hot and bitter in his mind. He strode off angrily.
Holdwine shook his head and followed.
They found Alfred at the paddock, with Edgwulf, Wulfric and half a dozen thegns.
‘We’re going hunting,’ Alfred said. ‘Will you join us?’
Ulf shook his head.
Alfred glanced at Edgwulf and then back to Ulf. ‘Is there something amiss?’ he asked quietly.
‘I desire to speak with you, my king. But I do not wish to delay your hunt.’
‘The boar will wait in the forest for me,’ Alfred said. ‘Yet I deem this one angry stag of mine has less patience.’
He drew Ulf away, signalling for Edgwulf to follow. Wulfric took Holdwine by the arm and began to question him.
‘Something troubles you, Ulf,’ Alfred said. ‘Tell me.’
‘I grow sick of the way Rebekah is being treated by your warriors,’ he said.
Alfred’s eyes flashed angrily. ‘Control your tone, boy,’ he said. ‘Remember to whom you are speaking.’
Ulf flushed and hung his head.
‘I am sorry, my lord. I did not know I spoke hotly.’
Alfred glanced at the men nearby, saw them craning to hear what was going on while trying not to show it.
‘Perhaps we should talk in the hall,’ he said.
He led the way towards the hall with Edgwulf, Wulfric and Holdwine following. He grabbed a servant on the way. ‘Send Ealdorman Ethelnoth to me at once,’ he said.
The hall was empty save for some servants sweeping up. ‘Leave us,’ Alfred ordered.
The servants, startled by his peremptory tone, exchanged glances and hurried away.
Alfred sat down and gestured to Ulf and Holdwine to do likewise. He stared at Ulf in silence.
‘We shall wait for your Ealdorman to arrive before we speak,’ he said.
Ulf nodded, wondering at this. Summoning the ealdorman seemed to be a slight to him, almost an insult.
‘And the delay will give you time to calm yourself,’ Alfred added.
Ethelnoth arrived a few minutes later. He paused as he approached then quietly drew up a stool. ‘Problems?’ he asked.
‘So I’m told,’ Alfred said. He signalled to Ulf to speak.
Ulf took a deep breath and began, his words coming out in an unguarded torrent. ‘Since I’ve returned, ever since the moment I arrived, I’ve had nothing but cutting comments about Rebekah.’
‘Words do not hurt a man,’ Wulfric said. ‘I’m surprised at you.’
‘It’s less to do with me,’ Ulf said. ‘They insult Rebekah, call her names, sneer at her. They even spit when she is close by.’
Alfred rubbed his chin, his eyes narrowed. ‘Go on,’ he said.
‘They think she is an enemy,’ Ulf continued. ‘That call her half-woman, or a demon. She ignores it but I can see it pains her.’
‘I have heard this too,’ Ethelnoth said. ‘It’s not right.’
‘Thank you, my lord,’ Ulf said. He was pleased and relieved that his ealdorman appeared to be taking his side. Yet the king said nothing, merely waited for Ulf to continue. Holdwine’s warning about Alfred’s desire to avoid dissension echoed in his mind.
Ulf started to speak again but realised that he had nothing more to say and he merely mumbled incoherently for a moment. An uncomfortable silence filled the air.
‘So what do you want the King to do about it?’ Edgwulf said at last. ‘Do you need him to fight your battles for you?’
Ulf was stung by the mocking tone, something he was not used to hearing from the Horse-thegn.
‘It is not for me to seek to control the King’s warriors,’ he answered. ‘Nor is it my place to protect Rebekah.’
‘Why isn’t it?’ came a voice from the back of the hall. Aethelflaed strode towards them. ‘Why isn’t it your place, Ulf?’ she repeated. ‘Nobody else has a care to defend her.’
‘Because, because…’ Ulf stuttered.
‘Don’t be
such a fool,’ she said. ‘It is your place to defend her. Because you love her.’
Ulf blushed scarlet. He felt his stomach turn inside out.
Ethelnoth chuckled quietly to himself.
Alfred raised a wry eyebrow. ‘Is my daughter right?’ he asked. ‘Do you love the African girl?’
Ulf nodded.
‘We cannot hear you,’ said Edgwulf.
‘Yes, I love her,’ Ulf mumbled.
‘Then Aethelflaed is right,’ said Ethelnoth. ‘He has the right to defend her. In fact, he has the duty to.’
Alfred tapped his chin. ‘Perhaps so, Ethelnoth. But I’m not sure everyone has such romantic notions as you.’
‘Then perhaps he should wed her,’ Aethelflaed said. ‘Then he would be able to defend her.’
Wulfric frowned. ‘Is that possible? She is from foreign lands. A heathen.’
‘She’s not a heathen,’ Aethelflaed said. ‘She’s as Christian as you or I. In fact her people became Christians when we still worshipped Woden and Thunor. They have priests, bishops, even an Archbishop.’
‘Then perhaps we should ask her Archbishop to marry them,’ Wulfric said.
‘Don’t be foolish,’ Aethelflaed said. ‘Her kingdom is a world away from here.’
‘And don’t you be rude to your elders,’ Alfred told her. ‘Fetch me some wine.’
To everyone’s surprise Aethelflaed did not demur but hurried to do his bidding.
He took a long sip at his wine, examining Ulf all the while. ‘Well, Ulf,’ he said finally. ‘Would you wed Rebekah? Assuming that she is a Christian and that it would be possible.’
Ulf did not know what to say. This was not what he had intended to happen, not what he had come here for.
Could he see himself linked with a woman who all the world despised? If they wed would the world view her more kindly? Did he want to wed her?
His lips moved but he could not frame the words struggling in his mind.
Aethelflaed saw his discomfort and rushed to rescue him and do even more.
‘If Ulf’s allowed to wed Rebekah then perhaps you could let Inga wed Ketil.’
‘What?’ Alfred said.
‘Inga’s in love with Ketil, and he with her.’
Alfred sighed, alert to the danger confronting him. ‘I didn’t know this,’ he said.
Aethelflaed slapped him playfully on the arm. ‘You must be the only one who doesn’t.’
Her eyes went to Ethelnoth who broke into a grin and shrugged.
‘I’ve also heard a rumour,’ Edgwulf said. ‘I hoped it might pass.’
Alfred scowled at him before continuing in a firm and determined manner.
‘Well there’s one decision which is easily made. Inga cannot wed Ketil. He’s a Dane, a heathen.’
‘But he was baptised at Aller, along with Guthrum,’ Aethelflaed said.
Alfred opened his mouth to answer but said nothing. He did not want to admit that the baptism had been little more than a charade and that he had always distrusted the sincerity of the Danes. It had been a political gesture, nothing more. He doubted that Ketil had truly converted but could not be seen to admit it.
‘Are you sure that Inga desires to wed him?’ he asked.
‘You can ask her yourself,’ Aethelflaed said. ‘And as her Godfather you’ll be able to give your consent. I’ll go and get her.’ She was on her feet before he could reply, hurrying from the room even as he tried to stop her.
‘I have servants to fetch servants,’ he murmured wearily.
Edgwulf turned to Ulf. ‘So what of you?’ he asked. ‘Your King asked you if you were willing to wed Rebekah and still awaits your answer.’
Ulf swallowed. The lump in his throat was enormous. He opened his mouth, not sure what he would say. When he did he found himself surprised.
‘I love Rebekah more than I can say,’ he said. ‘I wish to have her as my wife.’
The men exchanged glances. Ethelnoth and Edgwulf looked relieved, almost pleased while Wulfric raised a wry eyebrow.
Alfred, however, looked troubled.
‘We’re here,’ came Aethelflaed from the back of the hall.
She led two women towards them. Inga and Merewyn.
‘What are you doing here?’ Alfred asked his mistress.
‘You sent for me,’ she said in surprise.
Alfred scowled at Aethelflaed who looked contrite. ‘Sorry, father, I must have got confused.’
‘I await the day that happens with great anticipation,’ he said.
Merewyn took a seat next to Aethelflaed while Inga stood in front of the King, nervously wringing her hands.
‘I am told that you love the Danish hostage, Ketil,’ he said.
She nodded her head and mumbled words they could not hear.
‘Speak up child,’ he said. ‘I won’t bite you. You’re as good as a daughter to me.’
‘I do love him,’ Inga said, her voice faltering and quiet. ‘And he loves me.’
‘Do you both desire to wed?’ Ethelnoth asked. ‘I assume that Ketil has held good to the vows he made at his baptism.’
Alfred glared at him but Ethelnoth feigned not to notice.
‘He has my lord,’ Inga said. ‘Ketil is a man of Christ.’
‘But I have not seen him at worship,’ Wulfric said. ‘That does not suggest any great enthusiasm for his new faith.’
‘He is unlearnt in Christian ways,’ Aethelflaed said. ‘I have asked Ulf’s priest friend Wighelm to instruct him more thoroughly.’
Ulf gave a look of surprise at this falsehood and hoped that the king would not ask him the truth of it.
But Alfred’s thoughts were concerned only with the suitability of the match and he did not pursue any such side-issues. He gazed at Inga, his fingers tapping on the arm of his chair, while the others waited in a silence which grew ever more strained.
‘I am not convinced of the wisdom of such a match,’ Alfred said at last. ‘You must remember that you are my god-daughter, Inga. There are larger issues at stake than the feelings of your heart.’
‘What issues could be more important, Alfred?’ Merewyn said. ‘Love is the most important of all things on this earth.’
Alfred looked astonished at her words. She had always refrained from speaking of love in front of his friends and advisers. It was a point too sore and risky.
‘And Christ says the same,’ Aethelflaed added. ‘Either him or Saint Paul.’
Alfred’s eyes went from daughter to mistress and back again. He felt as if had been ambushed.
‘So,’ he said at last. ‘I am faced with two dilemmas. Should Ulf be allowed to wed a woman from a foreign land, one who claims to be a Christian, though of a different church? And should Inga be allowed to wed a Dane, a man who has lately been a heathen and our enemy? It is a great conundrum.’
Edgwulf frowned. He understood the King’s dilemma. If he allowed them to wed he risked alarming his warriors. If he refused he risked upsetting his daughter, his mistress and his god-daughter. But then his face suddenly brightened. ‘Alfred,’ he said, ‘perhaps this is a question of theology too tangled for you to decide. Perhaps it would be better to ask Archbishop Ethelred.’
Alfred jumped at the suggestion. He and the archbishop had little liking for one another, fighting continually over levying money on the church to pay towards the cost of war. It would be pleasant indeed to dump such a thorny issue into his lap. And, whatever the answer, any blame would be placed at his door.
‘That is an excellent suggestion,’ Alfred said, the relief palpable in his voice. And then he had an additional idea which he hoped might help cool the tempers of everyone concerned.
‘I shall send the four of you to Canterbury to speak with the archbishop in person. Ulf and Rebekah, Inga and Ketil.’
‘In that case,’ Aethelflaed said, hoping against hope, ‘could I go to speak about your plans for my marriage?’
‘You may not,’ Alfred said. ‘Your marriage is an easy matter to de
cide and it for me, your father, to do so alone.’
She heaved a sigh. She would wait until her friends had got what they wanted and then she would renew her assault on her father once more.
Alfred took a long look at Ulf.
‘There is someone else I will send with you to Kent. He is in Devon at present so I need to send summons to him. You will pick a band of King’s-thegns to go with you. Thirty men you can trust.’
Ulf looked at him in surprise. He was to pick thirty King’s-thegns?
His heart beat wildly. Have I been reinstated as a King’s-thegn, he wondered?
But, just as he was about to ask if this was so, Alfred appeared to realise his error. ‘This mission is about you and your sister so you will lead it.’ he said. ‘However, you will need a good man to command the King’s-thegns and I suggest your friend Holdwine.’
‘But I am to choose them?’ Ulf asked.
‘Yes,’ Edgwulf said. ‘The King just told you that.’
Alfred’s eyes darted towards Edgwulf but the Horse-thegn did not respond. His gaze was firmly fixed on Ulf who caught the glance and felt his heart surge with joy.
ARCHBISHOP ETHELRED
Canterbury, November 884
It was on a dull November day that the party arrived at the heights to the west of Canterbury. They had spent ten days travelling along the ancient trackway which led from Winchester to Canterbury and were looking forward to a place to rest.
Inga pulled on the reins of her horse and stared at the city below. It was a large settlement, surrounded by well-maintained earth banks topped by stone walls. In the centre of the city lay the cathedral. It was the largest building she had ever seen, dwarfing even the King’s great palaces. She was astonished to see that it was built completely of stone and roofed with red tiles rather than thatch. A tall, squat tower rose from the centre, dominating cathedral and city.
To the south of the cathedral was a large hall surrounded by gardens and orchards.
‘That’s where the archbishop lives,’ said their guide. ‘If he’s not in the cathedral, you’ll find him there.’
Ulf thanked him, passing him a small purse. The man emptied the coins into his palm, counting them carefully. He gave a curt nod and turned his pony to the west.
