The Earl of Mercia

by M J Porter

  Lady Ælfgifu’s eyes were shining with excitement when Leofric went to greet her. He could tell that she was desperate to speak with him at length, but he thought they’d have time later, when much of the people in her home slept, worn out by the excitement of having the king visit.

  “I’m to go to Norway,” she announced proudly, despite any fears she might have, but her voice was a bit too high and Leofric knew that she was terrified. He didn’t blame her. No one he’d known had ever had any great success in Norway. He’d tell her what he could of the place but he’d been there barely a day and his impressions had only been favorable because of the blade he now carried at his side.

  “With my son Swein. I’ve spoken to Godgifu, and my brothers already and we all hope that you’ll be able to stand as Harald’s foster-father while we’re away. He’ll need someone to look out for him while Cnut escorts us to Norway.”

  Godgifu was even more excited than Ælfgifu and he suddenly wondered what she’d do if he said no.

  “I’d be honored, and so will my wife and son, as long as Harald is happy with our help.”

  Harald, still looking sulky, looked up in surprise when he heard his name. Leofric knew he’d be feeling sorry for himself.

  “Oh, so I’m to actually be allowed an opinion?” he grumbled sarcastically and Leofric winced, along with Godgifu. He imagined he was unhappy at the thought of being left behind.

  “You’re allowed all sorts of opinions,” Godgifu tried to placate but that was the wrong thing to say and Harald looked even more mutinous.

  “Would you rather go with your mother and brother?” Leofric probed.

  “No I don’t want any of us to go to Norway. I don’t think the king should send us.”

  Leofric noted both the use of the boy’s father’s title as opposed to naming him as his father, and also his anger at the very sudden, and immense change that was about to happen to him as opposed to with his acceptance. He was pleased that Cnut had decided to go outside and speak with his men rather than listen to the family discussion.

  Ælfgifu looked as though she wanted to argue with her son, and it fell to his uncle to console him.

  “It’s a great responsibility for your mother and brother. It shows that the king is serious about ensuring that both of you should have your own kingdoms to rule when you become men.”

  “It shows that the king is desperate because he has no one else to ask.” The lad’s reasoning was so sound that for a moment not one of them could think of anything to say to counter what he was saying.

  “The king has lost a dear friend and in his place he wants your brother and I to rule for him. We should be pleased and honored,” his mother tried to plead with her younger son but Harald looked away with disgust. Leofric could understand why. It did seem as though his mother, having been so angry with his father for the past decade, was about to just roll over and play nicely.

  Not that she’d implied as much to Cnut. Cnut was worried that Lady Ælfgifu would refuse to go, but to Leofric she’d already announced her intention to go.

  “The king should have more men he can rely on rather than using my brother. He doesn’t even speak bloody Danish, let alone Norwegian.”

  Leofric hadn’t realized that basic problem and felt his head swivel quickly to Ælfgifu who nodded in confirmation. It seemed like a terrible omission.

  “But I do,” Lady Ælfgifu spoke proudly. “I learnt when I was a girl. It might be a little rusty but I’m sure I’ll remember it all soon enough.”

  “You plan on going then?” Harald glowered at his mother. He looked livid and upset, “without even speaking to me about it?” His voice ended on a howl of fury, but it seemed he’d spoken to his mother enough. He stood and stormed from the room without allowing her to answer.

  Ælfgifu looked distraught for a moment but quickly turned back to discuss her plans with Godgifu and Leofric.

  “I don’t intend to capitulate to Cnut straight away. I know he wants you to speak to me Leofric, and we’ll have that conversation in good time, but he needs to offer me far more before I’ll go. Having you look after Harald and my brothers will put my mind at ease, but still Harald is very unhappy and I don’t look forward to leaving my son behind, as the king demands. I’ll ensure that I get more concessions from him yet.”

  Leofric smirked at her firm tone. It seemed he didn’t need to worry about Ælfgifu. Yet the older son hadn’t yet spoken, and now he did.

  “And me mother. Do I get no say on my future?” the boy sounded as distressed as his brother and Leofric decided that this was something that the king and Ælfgifu would have failed to consider. Why, after all, would they not think that the boys would prefer to stay together?

  “You’ll be treated as a king,” Ælfgifu retorted hotly to his words, and the youth flushed. Leofric felt uneasy and it fell to Ufegat to try and reconcile the two.

  “I’ll care for your brother, Swein, you have my word. And your mother is right to think that you’ll be treated as a king. It’ll be an acknowledgment of what you should always have had.”

  “But my brother should have had it as well,” Swein countered and Leofric was impressed with the boy’s loyalty to his brother, if not to his mother and father. Not that he could fault him for his antagonism toward his father. Cnut deserved it.

  “Your brother will have it as well as soon as the king has it within his power to gift it to him.”

  “But where will that be? Will he send him to Skåne? Will we never be together again?”

  “I don’t know lad, but I don’t think that you should worry about that yet. You need to concentrate on doing your best in Norway, on protecting your mother, and ruling well. It’ll be a steep learning curve but I know that you can do it, and I want you to make me proud.” There was huskiness in Ufegat’s voice, as though he, better than Ælfgifu, understood what was being asked of his nephew, and the lad actually seemed to listen to his uncle. Perhaps he always had. Leofric had never truly spent enough time with Lady Ælfgifu to know the family dynamics. His own experiences with Ufegat showed him to be a clever and insightful man. It was a real pity that he’d been denied his opportunity to fulfill his own potential.

  For a moment Leofric took the time to consider what would have happened to Ælfgifu throughout her life had she not lost her father, or her brother’s their sight. Would she still have felt the desire to marry Cnut, or would she have been more content with a local lord? She’d have no doubt lived a more contented life.

  “And my brother?” Swein still prompted. “He’ll be allowed to join us in the future?”

  “I think that would be for the king to decide, but I don’t think you need look at your time in Norway as having no end in sight. I think you’ll come home and see your brother, and your uncles. This isn’t intended as some sort of exile. It’s a reward.”

  Leofric spoke with feeling because he suddenly understood Swein’s fears. Earl Hakon had gone to Norway and had never returned. Before him, Olaf Tryggvason had been king of Norway and he’d died protecting it, and so had Hakon’s uncle. It might not be intended as an exile, but it could be viewed as a death sentence.

  “You have friends in Norway?” Swein asked, a hopeful look on his face.

  “I was only there momentarily, but my family has friends there. They looked after my sword for near three decades and gave it to me.” He moved his cloak aside so that Swein could see the long sword at his hip. The boy wolf-whistled in appreciation, and Leofric chuckled because it brought awake from her dreaming and she looked instantly alert.

  “Is that the one from Olaf Tryggvason?” Swein asked in awe, and Leofric, reminded of his own delight on first seeing it, slipped it from its ceremonial scabbard and laid it on the side of the hearth. Swein leaned forward and ran his own hand over the sharp blade and the decoration around its hilt and down its length and while Leofric spoke to him of Snorri the priest and Olaf’s last wishes, he failed to notice that Cnut had returned to their small discussion
and that he listened as avidly as his son.

  “I didn’t know you had his sword,” Cnut said, with reverence in his voice and Leofric nodded just the once to confirm that he did. He’d never been able to share his treasure with the king, and almost wished he didn’t have to now.

  “It was only given to me in Trondheim. I had no idea of the gift.”

  “So the man is truly dead then?” Cnut asked, as though he too had listened to and enjoyed all the stories that had arisen about the man his father had so famously watched die, or so they said.

  “Snorri said he’d never have given up his sword if he’d lived, so yes, Olaf Tryggvason is truly dead.”

  “A shame. But it might work in our favor,” the king said, his mind already busy, but Leofric decided to leave the king to his scheming as he wanted to speak to his new foster-son, Harald, and ensure he was both okay and not about to give up all together. He still had much to offer his father, for all that he’d not been chosen on this occasion.

  Cnut must have realized his intention however. “I’ve spoken with the boy. He’s happier now. He understands that he’ll rule in Mercia with yours and Hrani’s help, and that there’ll be an opportunity for him to rule in England one day, when I’m long dead, and his two brothers are settled in their own kingdoms.”

  “So you never intended to keep the four kingdoms united then?” Leofric asked, looking at Cnut in surprise.

  The answer shouldn’t have come as any sort of shock and yet it still did and Leofric was once more reminded of just how self-assured Cnut was about his own abilities.

  “There’s no one who could hold my empire together after my death,” and in that Cnut almost offered more about himself than at any other point in his life. Cnut aimed to make his Empire strong, with the use of his sons, but on his death it appeared that he would let it disintegrate once more, because no one but Cnut could ever be the king of four different kingdoms.

  That gave Leofric pause for thought. Maybe Cnut had never really learnt to appreciate his own limitations after all.

  Anglo-Saxon Chronicle Entry for AD1030

  This year returned King Olave (Olaf Haraldson) into Norway; but the people gathered together against him, and fought against him; and he was there slain, in Norway, by his own people, and was afterwards canonized. Before this, in the same year, died Hacon (Hakon) the doughty earl, at sea.

  Chapter 29

  AD1031

  Northumbrian Border

  Siward and Ealdred had amassed their fyrds at Cnut’s command, and now they stretched along the contested borderlands.

  On the other side, Leofric could see an equal number of Scottish warriors and yet he was already sure in himself that Cnut would win the altercation.

  Malcolm’s near constant border warfare, had angered Cnut, complaining that when they’d met in Rome at Conrad’s coronation, he and Malcolm had come to a fair accord about leaving the lands to rule themselves and yet Malcolm had taken advantage of Cnut’s distractions in Norway and Denmark to harry the beleaguered self-styled Earl of Bamburgh.

  Now Cnut rode his horse, looking every inch the conquering king he’d come to be regarded as, and for once, Leofric was pleased to see his king in his imperial finery. It was exactly the sort of situation where Cnut needed to display his prowess in battle, and far more suitable than the family occasion he’d tried to use it on in the past. That had been a very poor decision indeed.

  Not that Leofric was alone. No, his son, nephews and his foster-son, Harald, accompanied him, as he continued to gain the regard he’d hoped to achieve after his father’s death. He knew that while Lady Ælfgifu and Swein had encountered resistance on their arrival in Trondheim, they were governing as best as they could and Cnut was so far pleased with them. Harald had readjusted well to being without his mother and brother, and Ælfgar, Wulfstan and Ælfwine were all close friends now. They were all keen to bloody their blades, but Leofric hoped that it wouldn’t come to that.

  He thought that the small intrusions that had already happened might be the be-all and end-all of the strained situation, but he was prepared for war if he needed to engage in it. It was about time he was able to bloody Olaf Tryggvason’s sword.

  He hoped that Cnut would finally settle his problems with Malcolm, and if he didn’t, well, he was prepared to banish the boys from taking part in the coming battle. Yet he also knew that it was time the boys became men, learning the lessons of injuring or killing another man. Orkning and Olaf had been instructed to keep a very close watch on them all, while his brother, Godwine, was ostensibly in command of all of the younger warriors riding with their household troops. It have become obvious that it was time that Ælfgar began to amass his own small group of household troops who would serve him when he was older, but would have the added bonus of a childhood bond to reinforce their loyalty.

  The boys were almost a giggling mass of improper behavior but as the massing of the fyrd, the first time in many, many long years, was intended as a threat not an invitation to war, the older men amongst them all were tolerate of the slightly silly antics and posturing. It reminded all of them too much of their own induction into the fighting masses for them to be angry or annoyed.

  The journey north had been much like Leofric’s previous journey to the fortress at Bamburgh and only in sight of Holy Island, did they come across any sign of border warfare.

  The people they came across didn’t so much look frightened as angry and when Earl Ealdred joined them, his own face was black with rage whenever they spoke of Malcolm but appreciative whenever he realized how much support he had.

  As Leofric and Lady Ælfgifu had promised, the alliance between Siward of York and Ealdred had been set in motion, but it was only now becoming a reality, with talk of a marriage union. The two men were uneasy in each other’s presence, but that was nothing new for allies in the making and especially when one man was going to try and wed the daughter of another.

  Leofric considered that Ealdred might be concerned that Cnut would encroach on his area of command, or that Siward might. It would be a poor way of rewarding the stalwarts of the north. Through all the earls and ealdormen that Leofric could remember governing in Northumbria, the House of Bamburgh had always been the bastion of the north, the first port of call for the Scottish incursions and the final hope for the English. He hoped Cnut would treat the man with the respect he deserved.

  “My lord,” Ealdred was fitted out for war, just as the rest of them were, when he met them on a high peak further north than Bamburgh itself with an almost unimpeded view of the border lands before them.

  “Earl Ealdred,” Cnut gave him the honorific despite it being given him by no king, and Leofric smirked with pleasure. He hoped that Cnut’s problems with his own family would have reminded him of the need to give concessions even when they went against his express wishes.

  “I’m honored to meet you, my lord, and pleased that you bring so many men to support me.”

  “The borders must be secure and Malcolm of Scotland must abide by promises he’s made to me for peace. I’m sorry that his activities have caused problems for your people.” Cnut’s resolve was firm on the problem.

  “My thanks,” Ealdred offered. He was deferential but not fawning to his king. After all, Cnut had been king of England for fourteen years and this was the first time the two of them had even met.

  “My people are fierce and determined, used to the summer raids, but this is becoming too much for them to tolerate. They steal their cattle and kill yet more, and they try and claim some of them as slaves. Once the border is secure, they’ll need help to reestablish themselves.”

  “They’ll be given whatever it is they need and I’ll reinforce your own household troops. I know that Lady Ælfgifu and Leofric sent you ten men. I’ll add another ten of my own men, and if any of those original men wish to return home, we’ll replace them and of course, continue to provide them with all they need so that they’re no burden to you.”

  ‘My tha
nks my lord,” Ealdred was pleased but perhaps also slightly disappointed to be offered so little. Cnut would maybe need to offer much more before Earl Ealdred truly thought of him as his king. At the moment, he probably saw him as someone he could call on in his time of need. He might not be quite so appreciative when Cnut started to make his own, counter, demands on him.

  Leofric determined to speak to Ealdred himself and wove his horse through the amassed men and horses until he found Ealdred.

  “Bastards,” he commented. “There’s only been a scattering of them so far but I think news of Cnut’s journey here has made its way to Malcolm and so he’s brought his finest warriors with him and come decked out for war, although he hardly has the resources for any sort of engagement.”

  “They claim this land because they say it’s there’s by right, but we have the words of Bede and so we know that Northumbria once extended further north than Abercorn. He should be grateful that we’ve not been trying to claim parts of his kingdom, because we’d have the right of it.”

  “Where’s Abercorn?” Leofric asked but Ealdred just pointed vaguely north. “Much farther that way. There was once a monastery there, overseen by the long since deserted monastery at Lindisfarne.”

  “That’s a long time ago,” Leofric whistled but it seemed Ealdred didn’t hear him, only then he responded.

  “We remember everything in the north.” There was no malice in his voice, but there was certainly a threat. He thought quickly. Had his father ever offended the House of Bamburgh? He didn’t think so, and certainly, he’d only met the man once so he couldn’t have done. Perhaps it was more a reminder that although Ealdred had been little considered in recent years, he’d not forget the oversight, or let anything happen in the future that was unlikely to aid him in retaining his hold on the House of Bamburgh.