The Briton and the Dane: Timeline

by Mary Ann Bernal

  The children were almost two summers when his lordship returned without my father and brother. I was told they had died bravely and that the king held me in high esteem. Juliana reassured me that I would be provided for. His lordship said I was family, and I remained in his household. Even though I helped with the children, I was never treated as a servant. And those were happy years, filled with such joy and love.

  One day, Juliana shared her surprise, she was again with child. This birthing was different because his lordship was in attendance. The babe was in a hurry to enter this world for which we were thankful. Juliana did not suffer overmuch, and Erik cried for the first time as the abbey bells chimed in the distance. A good omen.

  The first year of Erik’s life was joyous. His lordship remained at the fortress, overseeing the training of the king’s young warriors. While Juliana’s duties were considerable, she always found time to be with her children. Jason and Linette would soon be five summers, and Erik was almost one summer when Juliana decided to visit the abbey at Cranborne to give thanks to the Lord for His goodness.

  Juliana hid her disappointment when her husband could not accompany her. He also insisted that I remain with Erik, since traveling a distance with a babe barely weaned would be grueling. I remember holding Erik on the wall-walk as we waved goodbye to his mother. I can still hear Jason’s and Linette’s squeals of laughter as the wagon rolled through the main gate. Erik fell asleep as I waited until the last rider was out of sight before returning to my quarters.

  The days seemed endless, we were lost, his lordship and I, without our Juliana. She was...”

  Gwyneth held Aedre in her arms, speaking soothing words while the old woman wept. Even though she had never met Juliana, she was encompassed in sadness, knowing well the pain of the bereaved.

  “If this is too much for you, there is no need to continue,” Gwyneth whispered.

  “I beg forgiveness,” Aedre said, wiping away her tears. “It does require faith to accept God’s will, especially when one does not understand why things happen. They took a different route, hoping to surprise us by arriving early. It happened fast, the fire. It spread rapidly, engulfing the land without warning. There was no escaping the flames, and Juliana perished with her children.

  It was two months before we heard of their fate. There was so much destruction, so many lives lost. There were no bodies to bury, but effigies rest in the crypt below the chapel.

  Lord Stedman was devastated, but the Welsh were raiding again, and his lordship was grateful for the diversion. It was almost two years before he returned, and Erik did not recognize his father. His lordship did try to spend time with his son, but it was still too painful. He commanded many campaigns serving his king and left his son in my care. Erik was taught by learned men from aboard, but he acquired his warrior skills under the tutelage of the king’s trusted officer. It was not until Erik was in his sixteenth year that Lord Stedman resumed his command of the citadel, a command that lasted almost five summers.

  It was a miracle, my lady. Erik had been denied a father’s love for too many years. My heart was joyful because my embraced son was in such high spirits. Erik was seated beside his father in the great hall for all meals, even when esteemed visitors graced the citadel. Erik became a member of his father’s council, listening at first, but becoming a trusted advisor as the years passed. When time permitted, they would hunt in the forest, chasing the wild boar, and boasting of their prowess upon returning with the dead beast.

  My prayers had been answered. While we were still saddened by the loss of our beloved Juliana and the children, we were no longer in pain, and we thanked God for His goodness. Life had meaning once again, and his lordship began thinking of a suitable match for his son. Naturally, Erik protested, especially since his father had yet to take another wife. I believe neither one of them wanted the time spent together to come to an end.

  During those five years, father and son shared a lifetime of memories. They were more fortunate than most since too many fathers had lost sons on the battlefield. I admit I had my doubts initially, but as the months passed, I was pleased with his lordship.

  My position never changed; if anything, I was revered. I have been as a mother to your husband, and the bond we share will never be broken. Nor will our bond be broken, my daughter.”

  Gwyneth was overwhelmed by such loving words, and she opened her heart to this woman who was no longer a stranger. She did want to take Aedre into her confidence, but she could not, not just yet. She squeezed the old woman’s hands and waited for her to finish the story.

  “I had heard that the Welsh were menacing the border towns, and I was worried that the king would have his lordship command another army to subdue the raiders. My fears were proven when Lord Stedman received the king’s envoy. Erik wanted to ride with his father, but his lordship refused to put his son in harm’s way. The Welsh were not readily defeated, and many warriors had died in the numerous skirmishes.

  On the day Lord Stedman left, Erik and I watched from atop the Keep. He was disappointed, believing his father thought him a coward because he was not battle-tested. I assured him that was not the case. It was the preservation of his line that warranted such a decision, and I reminded Erik that he had yet to wed and provide an heir. He seemed appeased by my explanation, and the anger left him. I also reminded him that he was acting commandant in his father’s stead.

  Lord Stedman would have been proud of his son who commanded the garrisoned troops efficiently. Erik instituted new training programs, one of which was to teach the battles of Alexander the Great and Julius Caesar. He was giving the less privileged a chance to better themselves in the service of the king. Erik is highly respected by the men, and they would follow him anywhere, and die for him willingly.

  With his father away, Erik started to share many meals in my chambers. I cherish that time, the wonderful hours where we discussed so many things. I realized that I was no longer talking to a child but to a young man. While he resembles his mother in temperament, he is truly his father’s son. He is loyal to his king and his country and follows the Lord’s teachings. Your husband is a born leader, which is fortunate because much was expected of him once he succeeded his father.

  We were sharing the morning meal in the enclosed gardens, which is where Lord Stedman’s officer found us. I knew something was wrong when I looked into his eyes. He was quite ashen, and there were beads of sweat upon his forehead, and I feared the worst. My belly was queasy as I remembered how I felt when we had word of Juliana’s death. I was worried about Erik because I knew in my heart that his father was dead. The Welsh had vanquished the king’s Saxon and Norman forces near Leominster and Lord Stedman was killed in battle.

  Erik thanked the man, offering him a cup of ale, but the soldier declined the invitation and left. I embraced Erik as we both cried. Once we accepted God’s will, we were able to discuss what needed to be done. Another effigy was commissioned since Lord Stedman’s body would not be returned. Arrangements were made for a funeral Mass, and a messenger was sent to court, requesting an audience so Erik might swear his fealty to his king.

  It has been almost ten summers, and so much has happened since then. It pleases me that you are here, Gwyneth. Erik needs someone he can love and trust. Something is amiss, but I do not yet know who is behind the treachery. Please do not be afraid to confide in me. I would give my life willingly for both you and your husband.”

  Chapter Seven

  The sun was disappearing over the horizon when Gwyneth returned to her chambers. She glanced around the room and was quite startled to find Rheda sitting at the scribe’s desk, copying a letter. Gwyneth stood still, scarcely breathing since the servant was unaware that she had returned. She decided not to confront the woman, believing Seymour would engage another spy if Rheda was no longer useful.

  Gwyneth moved stealthily towards the cupboard, hiding behind the open door. She peered through the crack as she tried to remember what papers had been
left on the desk. There was only one communiqué that mattered, and she prayed that it was not the message Rheda was copying.

  “Erik would not have been so careless, would he?” Gwyneth thought as Rheda finished her task.

  Rheda folded the letter and put it in her pouch. She placed the original in its proper place in Erik’s stack of papers, making sure the room was as she found it before leaving through a concealed door.

  The citadel held so many secrets, much to Gwyneth’s dismay. She had committed the map to memory, but she was more concerned about the tunnels and where they led outside of the fortress. She would return to the library once she inspected Erik’s papers.

  Gwyneth was uncomfortable reading the communiqués because she was infringing upon her husband’s right of privacy, a right she had taken for granted. The letters were personal, and she felt violated for Erik’s sake. When she read a letter from a holy sister, thanking her husband for his generosity, she was filled with pride.

  “These letters are expressions of gratitude, but which one was copied?” Gwyneth thought as Erik came upon her and kissed the top of her head.

  “My love, I am not prying,” Gwyneth said promptly. “Rheda copied one of these letters, which is why I am reading them.”

  “Rheda, here?” Erik asked. “I did not see her.”

  “She took the tunnel,” Gwyneth replied, pointing toward the wall.

  “Yes, the old escape routes. I should have mentioned it, but I never thought they were being used.”

  “Erik, I have read through them twice and do not see what would have interested her. Would you know?”

  “The note from Sister Hilda.”

  “I do not understand. Why would giving money to a nunnery be of interest?”

  “She mentions visiting the lake.”

  “What of it? She is merely discussing the beautiful terrain.”

  “The abbey at St. Gall is not far from Lake Constance,” Erik said. “My generosity will ensure the survival of our descendants. I cannot explain how I know, or why I felt compelled to support the Benedictine Order. I knew I had to do this before we were wed. It was as if the Lord was directing me so I could not refuse, nor could I question Him.”

  Gwyneth’s thoughts were chaotic as her mind tried to make sense of Erik’s revelation. Again, there was no scientific explanation, and she did not believe in the paranormal, yet she had to give credence to the inexplicable underlying forces that seemed to be controlling her destiny. It was best to keep on attributing these events to Divine Intervention to preserve one’s sanity. She was amazed that Erik was not perplexed by the unexplainable, finding his deep faith commendable. Obviously, in this century, the Vicar of Christ was revered, and the laws of the Church were stringently followed. All of Christendom had yet to question the servants of the Lord, which was why Erik was so trusting in this regard.

  “Rheda does not know the truth,” Erik reminded her. “She probably suspects my motives. What if she believes I am plotting with one of the king’s enemies, or amassing an army, and the Benedictine Order is somehow, involved in the treachery.”

  “We will be followed once we leave the citadel.”

  Erik nodded as he picked up the papers and walked towards the hearth. He put the communiqués into the fire, one at a time, stoically watching the precious memories being devoured by the flames. He should not have left the papers on the desk, but the few household servants who tended to his needs could not read. He never suspected that his inner sanctum would be desecrated, and he reproached himself for being too trusting.

  “You are not at fault,” Gwyneth said as she stood beside him. “If I had not seen Rheda meeting with Seymour, we would never have suspected their allegiance. And if I had not returned early...”

  “We would not have known Rheda was searching our chambers and that she has knowledge of the tunnels,” Erik interrupted, “and I am pleased you did not confront her. She would have feigned innocence, yet I would have had to send her away.”

  “But another would take her place,” Gwyneth reminded him. “I have also asked Father Gerard to meet us in the chapel crypt with Brother Damian once Earl Edwin has retired. Does he still plan to leave in the morning?”

  “Yes, and we will depart at midday.”

  “Is it wise to change our plans?”

  “Rheda will not expect us to leave this soon, which is to our advantage.”

  Gwyneth smiled as she led Erik through the door. They did not speak as they walked towards the great hall to await their noble guest. She noticed the soldiers patrolling the perimeter of the fortress while remembering how little of the original structure remained amid the ruins. Gwyneth entered the festive room, delighting in the authenticity of the moment. Bryson and Wynstan were speaking with Father Gerard as the kitchen servants were placing platters of food upon the table. She found the minstrels’ soft melodies comforting as she sat on a cushioned bench while Erik spoke with his men. A sea breeze drifted through the open windows while dancing flames brightened the chamber. Gwyneth relaxed, enjoying the moment and singing beneath her breath as she listened to the antiquated music.

  ***

  Feathery clouds floated above the full moon as Gwyneth and Erik made their way towards the chapel library. She kept looking behind, expecting to see Rheda lurking in the shadows. Erik peered into shaded corners as they walked between the buildings. They were silhouettes blending within the blackened night as they proceeded to the door leading to the crypt. Gwyneth followed Erik down the gloomy stairwell where their fellow conspirators waited. A vigil lamp hung from the ceiling, its burning wick casting an eerie glow within the burial chamber. Even though Gwyneth was not superstitious, she admitted to herself albeit reluctantly, that she should not have suggested such a meeting place.

  “The dead should rest in peace,” Gwyneth thought as Erik began the meeting.

  How Gwyneth had arrived at the citadel was never mentioned as Erik spoke of his plan to travel with his wife to Canterbury, escorted by Wynstan and his chosen men. He did not mention specific details, only that he would be away for a lengthy period of time. Raulf would command the fortress in his stead, but Wynstan would keep him apprised of the political climate. Bryson would be their sole protector as they continued their journey.

  While traveling the continent was perilous in its own right, Erik downplayed their vulnerability, focusing instead, on Rheda’s treachery. Brother Damian confirmed his willingness to return to the secular world to better serve the king, and he also believed that Aedre would be the best person to be apprised of Rheda’s activities.

  “Aedre is not suitable for such an undertaking, her age is upon her,” Erik said. “What about your wife, Wynstan?”

  “Aedre is most suitable,” Gwyneth interrupted. “I met with her earlier today, and she is aware that something is not right, and she told me she could be trusted.”

  “Aedre does not know the truth about my wife,” Erik reminded them. “And I would keep it that way.”

  “Erik, she loves you as a son,” Gwyneth said. “She would protect you with her life, and you know that. Let me talk to her before we leave. She already suspects Rheda. I would rather have her receive Wynstan’s counsel than to make decisions that might cost Aedre her life. She prays at the chapel daily. I could await her there while you see to Earl Edwin’s departure. I will ask her to find out as much as she can about Rheda and report to Wynstan. That is all. Let her do this for you, for us.”

  “Gwyneth is right,” Bryson interjected. “Aedre is above reproach, and if Rheda becomes comfortable sharing secrets, we might expose who is behind this plot before you return.”

  “Very well,” Erik replied. “We will leave at midday. There is no need to forewarn anyone within these walls.”

  “And if Aedre keeps Rheda occupied, visiting the abbey for example,” Gwyneth said.

  “I have already agreed, Gwyneth. Nothing more need be said.”

  The men laughed softly as the meeting ended. Father Gerar
d and Brother Damian remained behind as Erik, Gwyneth, Bryson, and Wynstan walked up the stairs, closing the door behind them.

  “Damian, I must ask again, if you truly understand this undertaking and that you could very likely lose your life. This task is not forced upon you, and no one would think anything less of you if you should change your mind.”

  “I serve our Lord, our king, and our country,” Brother Damian replied. “Whatever happens, is God’s will, but I thank you for your concern.”

  The religious men ascended the stairwell leading to the altar and returned to their cells. They were unaware that Aedre was praying in the chapel, her slight figure barely discernible in the darkness.

  ***

  The red and orange hues of first light brightened the sky as the Earl of Mercia took his leave of Lord Erik of Wareham. The nobleman and his retinue rode through the main gate leisurely, choosing to follow the forest road.

  Erik and Bryson returned to the commandant’s office, where Wynstan waited with Erik’s second in command. Raulf followed orders, never questioning his superiors, and never repeated what was said behind closed doors. The young man stood at attention as his commander entered the room.

  “This is an informal meeting, Raulf,” Erik said. “Please sit.”

  Bryson stood in front of the closed door while Wynstan joined Raulf.

  While Erik spoke to his men, Gwyneth found Aedre in the chapel, praying on her knees before a likeness of the crucified Christ. Gwyneth did not wish to disturb the woman, but she did not have a choice. She blessed herself as she approached Erik’s nursemaid and was startled when the woman stood up and faced her.

  “We must speak where our words cannot be heard,” Aedre whispered as she led Gwyneth through a concealed door.

  The tunnel was still in use since wall torches had been strategically placed along the lengthy corridor. Gwyneth believed this passageway had been built after the Roman occupation because she did not remember seeing it referenced in the blueprints. Aedre moved with a lively gait for a woman whose age was upon her, and Gwyneth stifled a laugh when she remembered Erik’s words. When Aedre opened the door, Gwyneth found herself at the Keep, and it did not take the women long to reach the top of the tower.