The Earl of Mercia

by M J Porter

  Leofric was pleased of the warmth in the hall because it was far colder outside than it had been in Worcester when he’d left. He’d forgotten that the seasons gave way to each other later the further north you travelled and had been ill prepared for the chill days and colder nights.

  Ealdred had a fine hall, old but well maintained, and as such, it was smaller than some that Leofric had been in before but then, it needed to fit inside the compact nature of the site and so it made perfect sense.

  The hall was filled with men and women, and around the fire lounged a younger man than Leofric, who shared Ealdred’s face. He assumed he was his son and was intrigued that he wasn’t included in his father’s discussions with his guest. He didn’t know whether that meant there was discord between them or if it meant that Leofric’s talk with Ealdred wasn’t deemed important enough to share. He’d need to bear that in mind.

  “Come sit, drink and eat.” Leofric was pleased to be offered as such. It had taken longer than he’d thought it would to ride from the settlement they’d been forced to stop at the night before, the journey just too far to accomplish in one day from York. He’d spent a pleasant enough night but had wanted to press on when the sun had first risen.

  He’d found the far northern lands to be widely uninhabited. Great swathes of farmland were clearly under cultivation, but the settlements were small and cleverly hidden, only those who made their living from the sea being easy to find, and only then because the coastline offered a number of natural places to come together.

  The food was good and Leofric ate heartily of the fish and mussels both.

  “It’s the coastal breeze,” Ealdred laughed at him as he ate and ate and ate, while Ealdred seemed to only pick at his food.

  “You get used to it, but for those who’re not, and also for small children as well, any time spent in the sometimes harsh coastal breeze makes for hungry bellies and sleepy heads.”

  “That may be but you also have delicious food on offer,” Leofric spoke willingly and was pleased by the delight on the man’s face and then dismayed to see the smile flee quickly.

  “We should speak of events on the border,” Ealdred said, quickly turning to the business of the visit. “Malcolm grows daring on the border. We’ve always maintained an uneasy acceptance of each other, allowed men to raid if they must but turned a blind eye unless too much was taken or too many people injured, but his men have been sighted coming ever closer to Bamburgh. He plans on taking advantage of Cnut’s concern with matters everywhere else. So what is it that the Lady Ælfgifu can offer me to prevent any further incursions?”

  “In exchange for your support she’ll broker closer ties with the people of York, and with Siward in particular. I know that he grows in power in York, threatening your own kingdom from the south. She would like to ensure you work together as opposed to against each other. She’ll ensure that her household troops are yours to command should you have need of them, and send her own messengers to Malcolm to remind him of the prevailing conditions.”

  “But she won’t give me the resources I need to attack and drive Malcolm back once and for all?” he spoke with bitterness but Leofric also sensed an unwillingness to act as such. He was sure that Ealdred was disinclined to be proactive in the entanglements and wondered why he asked as he did.

  “She’ll send her household troop as soon as you send for it, but she’s unable to send more. She could command the fyrd in the event of an attack, but really, I believe, as she does, that by enabling you and Siward to come to terms in York that you’ll be better protected than in the past and able to use the fyrd of Northumbria to greater effect because the men won’t feel that their loyalties are divided. Malcolm thinks you stand alone, we’d rather prove that’s not the case.”

  “And the boys, will she send one of them to the northern kingdom?”

  “I think she’d happily send both of them to get to know the area better. Swein and Harald are still impressionable young men, they’d welcome the opportunity to engage in border warfare but I think you might not be quite as keen for that as you imply.”

  “I have my own sons to make war for me, I don’t need the Lady Ælfgifu’s, you’re right, but I’d still like to meet with the boys. Yet it seems that you offer very little.”

  “Lady Ælfgifu has a great swathe of support in the Mercian lands, and also in York, she’d like yours in this border area but she appreciates that you might rather ally more closely with Cnut. I’m sure that he’d send you warriors to keep Bamburgh safe.”

  Fury swept across Ealdred’s face at the words. Leofric knew that Cnut, in an effort to assert himself in the north, was very much encouraging Siward, a Danish warrior turned scheming politician, to claim Bamburgh as well. So while it seemed like a small thing to offer, reconciling the two would actually cause far less trouble for both men in the long run. Perhaps a marriage alliance between the two would be possible.

  “I’d rather see some sign of this support before I make any agreement,” Ealdred wavered and Leofric knew that his next words would seal the bargain for him. Ealdred had little to hold out for. He was threatened from all quarters him, and he just needed someone to offer him the support he felt he was needed, for him to ally with them.

  “Ten of the men I’ve brought with me are some of Ælfgifu’s greatest warriors. They’ll stay in Bamburgh with you, if you reach an agreement with us, and they have coin and the means to pay for their own stay. They’ll remain here all summer and only return to their own homes when the seasons turn. If that meets with your agreement, of course. If they wish to remain with you all winter, that too can be arranged. They’ll then return with the better weather and once more assist you.”

  “You’d leave them?” Ealdred asked with surprise.

  “Of course my lord. Lady Ælfgifu is a woman of action, not just words. She has a great fondness for this area, she was raised here as a small child. She told me that she remembered the mussels that could be caught from Holy Island. She said they were the tastiest she’s ever had. She doesn’t want to risk Malcolm getting his hands on those mussels.” As intended that reminder that Ælfgifu had only been a child when her father had been Ealdorman of Northumbria worked well. They’d not wanted Ealdred to feel threatened by her, in fact the very opposite.

  “They are delicious,” Ealdred agreed, resolve on his face.

  “Leave your men, try the mussels and tell Lady Ælfgifu that I’d welcome her intervention with this Siward in York. I’d rather ally with him than chaff against his incursions into my kingdom. Between us all I’m sure we can force Malcolm to stay behind his borders.”

  “An agreement then,” Leofric said, surprised it had all been accomplished quite so easily but then, Ealdred was a man under threat and Cnut was blind to his needs, thinking only of himself.

  “Yes, definitely. I’ll support the boys in their quests to make a name for themselves but they need not come and visit me until the borderlands are safe, and then, well then I’d be pleased to welcome Lady Ælfgifu as well. I’m sure she’d like some fresh Holy Island mussels.”

  Ealdred reached over and grasped Leofric’s forearm in a belated welcome.

  Leofric turned to nod to Orkning and then waited for the ten warriors to make themselves known to their new titular earl. They were fiercely loyal to Ælfgifu and would be helpful to Ealdred but also alert to any changes in the earl’s loyalty. They’d take appropriate actions if needed and Leofric knew that they could all be trusted with their new tasks.

  The men were all built to impress, and they’d ensured their weapons had sharpened edges and looked well handled. Some of the men wore battle scars on their faces, and others had callouses from working with war axe and sword on their hands. They looked formidable, and perhaps better, were keen to engage with the Scots.

  He allowed a smirk to cross his face.

  How would Cnut counter their current actions?

  Effectively, Cnut only had Siward in the north now, the rest were loyal t
o Ælfgifu and that gave her an edge that she could use to her advantage. After all, Swein had claimed England from the north downwards. How hard would it be for Ælfgifu and her sons to do the same?

  Chapter 27

  AD1030

  Worcester

  The decision that Cnut made to counter Ælfgifu and Leofric’s growing bid for legitimacy within the Mercian and northern lands, was not one that Leofric could have imagined.

  He was amazed, when visiting Deerhurst, to hear the thunder of horses hooves on the approach, and to realize that not only was he not alone with his son in his place of sanctuary, but that the queen had come to visit him.

  He eyed her angrily. She wasn’t known for journeying outside the old kingdom of Wessex and he wasn’t sure that he was at all appreciative of her efforts on his behalf. He also assumed, and it angered him to know, that someone had informed the king of his movements, and that her meeting him here wasn’t by chance. Not at all.

  He considered riding away from the monastery but he knew that he couldn’t. Not here in the place that was so special to his family and his father especially. His father would have listened to any one, whether he agreed with them or not.

  Instead he plastered his most congenial look on his face while, Hund, the name now permanent, was placid at his feet as he beat his way through the sea of horses to find the queen. As he went he looked into the eyes of the household warriors, wanting to see if any of the men were identifiably from Earl Godwine’s own household troop, but the only face he recognised was that of Brothor, who winked at him as he walked past on his way to the queen.

  Leofric would have preferred to stop and question him, but instead instructed his son to speak with the man, and made his way to the queen.

  She’d not dismounted, and in fact none of the men had, but on seeing Leofric, the worry on her face disappeared and she welcomed him, despite everything, with a smile and indicated that she wished to be assisted down from her horse.

  Leofric aided her, and greeted her at the same time.

  The queen lightly touched his arm after she’d stepped down, and then almost leapt away from him. Leofric was astonished to find her trying to find strength from him. He’d thought they were enemies, but it seemed she was still keen to play her games with him.

  “I hoped to visit your father’s grave and pay my respects,” she said softly, gesturing for no one to follow her, although she was handed a small collection of bright summer flowers by one of her ladies.

  “For your mother’s grave,” she offered with a small lopsided smile, her chin wobbling with suppressed grief. Leofric felt very uncertain. She’d not said she was surprised to see him, acting as though all this had been prearranged and yet she was also clearly very upset and affected by her visit to Deerhurst. Perhaps it was just a coincidence after all, and one that she welcomed.

  “Your father spoke of this place with great affection and I’ve been remiss to have never visited before. Your father was a great friend to me, and he steered me through many monumental events. I fear I’m the worst for his lack of counsel.”

  Leofric, his eyes intent on the ground before him, momentarily stopped and then began moving again, his hand resting on the queen’s hand. It seemed, against all the odds, as though she’d come to apologize to him. He would need to be gentle with her and see just what she came to offer him.

  He’d heard little from the court since his banishment but he could only imagine that something immense had recently happened to the queen, unless of course it was all a ploy. There was a real possibility that the king had finally immobilized his one remaining asset, the queen, in order to steady his split realm.

  “My father would be honored by your visit, my lady. And so to would my mother.”

  He didn’t speak again, but instead, and with Hund shepherding the queen to the spot he’d just been exploring, made his way to his father’s gravesite.

  It was always immaculately maintained. His father, and his long dead and unknown grandfather, had provided enough funding for the monastery to always maintain their graves within the churchyard, and Leofric often saw the monks weaving their way through the grave markers with their hoes. The churchyard had been maintained as a pleasant place of reflection and haven. Leofric knew the abbot was proud of his monks for their assiduous attention to detail.

  The queen was silent as she stood before Leofwine’s grave marker. There was a small stone with his name emblazoned on it, but little else. His father had been a man of simplicity and even in death, he’d asked for little.

  He went to withdraw and leave her in seclusion as she stifled a sob, but she held onto his arm tightly, as though fearing she might fall if he moved away, and so he stood with her, Hund sitting before them both, her intelligent snout switching between the two of them. Leofric was jealous of her view of the queen but held his silence and his reverence.

  He found his thoughts returning to his father’s final contact with the queen. The king had asked him to speak with the queen about the need for Harthacnut to stabilize unease in Denmark when Cnut and Thorkell had been enemies. He knew that Emma had been unwilling, but Leofwine had managed to convince her of the necessity. Leofric had never found out what his father had said, but knew that he’d never used convoluted arguments. He’d believed in simplicity, honor and speaking the truth. It was those very elements that were now missing from the king’s court.

  It had become a mass of intrigue and one-upmanship and the king suffered for it. Leofric speculated that the queen shared his realization.

  When enough time had elapsed for contemplation, Leofric moved only a handful of steps and was faced with his mother’s grave. It too bore the same mark of simplicity but had been planted with a sprawling rose bush that by chance was in bloom, the whites of the roses adding to the starkness of the simple arrangement.

  The queen, releasing Leofric’s arm, stooped to lay her own riot of summer flowers on the grave, an apologetic smile for the mass of colours. Leofric simply nodded his thanks. It was his father who’d insisted on the white roses. Personally he’d have preferred the bright colours for his mother. She’d been a creature of light and beauty.

  Hund, unused to anyone leaving flowers, stooped to sniff them and as she did, the queen smiled sadly.

  “I see even your hound is distrustful of me.” There was such sadness in the queen’s voice that Leofric finally looked at her. Her face was blotchy with crying and sadness had settled around her like a cloak of deep winter snow.

  “My lady,” he found himself saying. “What’s happened?” He’d vowed never to have any sympathy for her after he’d learnt about her intentions towards Lady Ælfgifu but in the face of such utter wretchedness he couldn’t still his mouth.

  The queen met his gaze frankly, although tears fell unheeded down her cheeks.

  “My children are gone, the king has grown weary of me because of my lassitude, and Earl Godwine still glowers at me from the corner, checking my every move. I feel stifled and unable to move and it’s all my own fault. I’ve no one to blame but myself, and I thought to spend some time here, with your father’s spirit and find the way back to myself.”

  “You didn’t know of my visit then?” he asked and the queen shook her head.

  “No, I was worried when I saw you but you’ve been very kind, with everything that’s happened between us.”

  “My father always counted you a great friend of our family. Your betrayal has been hard to bear.” He found that if they were to be frank with each other, there was no need to deny the truth of his feelings.

  “With your father’s death I should have more willingly adopted you, as I had your sister, but you were so weak without him that I felt I couldn’t always take the risk. And then, well I think you know what happened with the Lady Ælfgifu and Earl Godwine.” He thought she’d finished speaking but she hadn’t.

  “Jealousy is a sin and I should have dealt with her presence far better than I did. It’s not as though I didn’t know ab
out her when I married the king. I feel she’s been just as wronged by the king as I have.”

  Leofric had no words to offer the queen that wouldn’t have sounded smug and self-congratulatory and so he offered no outright reply.

  “Shall we visit inside the church? I’d like to show you my grandfather’s cross.”

  “Is this the one that was given to Olaf Tryggvason and then returned to your family? I’ve heard of its great weight and beauty.”

  “It is yes. Come, I’ll show you how a man long ago once consolidated all his wealth. My father said his own father came foul of Æthelred’s mother when she was reigning for his son. It seems it might be a bit of a family trait.” He wondered why he was trying to make the queen feel better but immediately knew it was because he’d forgiven her for her transgressions. She was a woman with an absentee husband, who was more difficult to serve than Æthelred had ever been. He could see how she’d allowed herself to become too caught up in events she had no control over.

  She’d admitted the errors she’d made, and that she wished to make amends. He would do well to be respectful of that while also thinking of a way that he and the king, and the king and his first wife, could be reconciled.

  The inside of the church, as always, was well maintained and peaceful. At the front of the church the altar stood proud, with his grandfather’s cross in prized position. The light shining through the small window at the end of the church was illuminated with the warm glow of the sun and it set the rubies sparkling and made the whole arrangement appear far more magnificent than it was. The queen gasped in delight and Hund walked down the aisle, her claws clicking on the wooden floorboards. Leofric knew that he needed to make the decision to further endow the church so that it could be rebuilt from stone, but until he became earl, or rather was gifted with more land for his family and himself, he couldn’t afford the expense. It was a source of constant sorrow to him.