Of the Ring of Earls (Conqueror Trilogy Book 1)
Page 1
OF THE RING OF EARLS
CONQUEROR TRILOGY
BOOK 1
JULIET DYMOKE
First published in Great Britain in 1970 by Dobson Books Ltd.
This edition published in 2016 by Three Castles Media Ltd.
Three Castles Media Ltd
Copyright © 2016 Juliet Dymoke
The moral right of Juliet Dymoke to be identified as the author of this work has been
asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form
or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any
information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Jacket design by Fourteen Twentythree
The main character in this book is a work of fiction and the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Other names, characters, businesses, organizations and places are based on actual historical events. In such cases, every effort has been made to make such information as accurate as possible.
Three Castles Media Ltd hereby exclude all liability to the extent permitted by law for any errors or omissions in this book and for any loss, damage or expense (whether direct or indirect) suffered by a third party relying on any information contained in this book.
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
For Joan Upjohn
‘ . . .The whole race
death-rapt, and of the ring of earls
one only left alive; living on in that place
heavy with friend-loss . . .’
Beowulf The Lay of the Last Survivor
Historical Characters
English
Siward – A Dane, Earl of Northumbria. Married Aelfled, grand-daughter of Earl Uhtred and a descendant of the ancient line of Northumbrian kings.
Waltheof – Siward’s son; Earl of Huntingdon and Northampton and later Earl of Northumbria. Born approx. 1046.
Harold – Second son to Earl Godwine (the first, Sweyn, already dead on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem); Earl of East Anglia, later Earl of Wessex and then King of England. Married to Aldyth, sister of Edwin of Mercia, but remained devoted to his mistress Edith Swan-Neck.
Tost – Third son of Earl Godwine; Earl of Northumbria until expelled in 1065. Married to Judith, half sister to the Count of Flanders.
Gyrth – Fourth son of Earl Godwine; Earl of East Anglia.
Leofwine – Fifth son of Earl Godwine; Earl of Kent.
Wulnoth – Sixth son of Earl Godwine; held in Normandy as a hostage during the later years of King Edward’s reign.
Stigand – Archbishop of Canterbury, holding the office illegally, dismissed by William the Conqueror in 1070.
Aldred – Archbishop of York. Died September, 1069.
Wulfstan – Bishop of Worcester and acknowledged saint; friend to Harold and Waltheof.
Edwin – Eldest grandson of Earl Leofric of Mercia; Earl of Mercia and at one time betrothed to one of William’s daughters.
Morcar – Brother to Edwin; Earl of Northumbria after Tosti.
Maerlsweyn – Sheriff of Lincoln; friend to Harold and a man of some standing.
Gospatric – Cousin to Waltheof, holding Northumbria for a short while after Morcar. Fled to Scotland in 1070.
Magnus – Son of Carl and grandson of Thurbrand who were both involved in a blood feud with Earl Uhtred and the House of Siward. Continued the feud with the aid of his brothers Somerled and Edmund. The youngest, Cnut, was extremely popular, and not so involved.
Ulfcytel – Abbot of Croyland and lifelong friend to Waltheof.
Leofric – Uncle to Edwin and Morcar, and Abbot of Peterborough. Wounded at Hastings and died shortly after.
Thorkel Skallason – A man from Iceland, a ‘scald’ or court poet, once at the court of Harold of Norway, but for some time before the Conquest one of Waltheof’s retinue. Later composed a poem in honour of his master.
Edgar – The Atheling (Royal Prince), Grandson of King Edmund Ironside and claimant to the throne.
Siward Barn – A thegn of Northumbria.
Ralph de Gael – Earl of Norfolk, part English, part Breton, holding lands in Brittany. Married Emma, Daughter of William FitzOsbern.
Alfric of Gelling – A thegn of Lincolnshire
Normans
William – Duke of Normandy and later King William I. Married Matilda of Flanders.
Matilda – Wife to William, mother of his children, Robert, Richard, William Rufus, Henry, and five girls.
William FitzOsbern – Cousin to William and High Seneschal of Normandy. At Hastings and later made Earl of Hereford. Killed at the battle of Cassels in 1071.
Roger FitzOsbern – Son to William FitzOsbern, inherited the title in England.
Roger of Montgomery – A notable baron and close friend of William, later Earl of Shrewsbury.
Mabille of Bellême – Wife to above and a woman of unsavoury character, eventually murdered by her enemies.
Ivo of Taillebois – Cousin to Mabille, later Lord of Holland in the county of Lincolnshire. Notorious for his cruelty.
Lanfranc of Pavia – Italian Scholar, first Prior of Bec and then Abbot of St. Stephen’s at Caen. Famed for his learning and wisdom. Archbishop of Canterbury in 1070 and close friend of William.
Odo – Half brother to William and Bishop of Bayeux, later Earl of Kent. A man of volatile character.
Robert – Also half brother to William, and Count of Mortain. Ruled Cornwall after the Conquest.
William Malet – Lord of Graville St. Honoré, part Norman part Saxon. Responsible for the burial of Harold after Hastings.
Heslila – Wife to William Malet.
Adeliza – Sister of William; Countess of Champagne and mother of . . .
Judith – Niece to William. Her father was Enguerrard of Ponthieu who died while she was a child.
Richard de Rules – Knight, later lord of Deeping in Lincolnshire and William’s Chamberlain.
Hugh of Evermue – Lord of Deeping, a Breton who settled in England during King Edward the Confessor’s reign. Died some time after the Conquest.
Gallet – William’s jester.
Hugh de Montfort – A baron holding much land in Normandy, later Castellan of Winchester Castle.
Haimer of Thouars – A baron present at Hastings who later led the Normans in begging William to take the crown.
Geoffrey de Mowbrey – Bishop of Coutances, later holding land in England. Assisted Bishop Wulfstan in putting down a rising in 1075.
Norwegian
Harald Sigurdson – King of Norway, a man of tremendous stature and a soldier of great experience.
Fictitious Characters
Athelais – Supposed daughter of Hugh of Evermue.
Hakon – A freeman and Staller (master of horse) to Earl Waltheof.
Ulf – Son of Alfric of Gelling.
Osgood – Captain of Waltheof’s personal troop.
Outy Grimkelson – Waltheof’s body servant. A man of this name did in fact live in Croyland at about this time.
PROLOGUE
SUMMER, 1055
‘I have not in my life
Set eyes on a man with more might in his frame,
Than this helmed lord.’
Beowulf
Earl Siward of Northumbria lay dying in the summer of the year after he had beaten the Scots in battle, and he fought death with as much vigour as he had fought that living enemy.
All his life he had been called Siward Di
gera, Siward the Strong, and now his great body lay like a felled oak in the chamber of his hall in York. Disease was conquering him at last, but his spirit would not yield, not yet, and while he still had command of his senses he sent his body servant, Outy Grimkelson, to fetch his son from Croyland Abbey.
‘Make haste,’ he said grimly. ‘Bring the boy to me with all speed for I fear this is my last fight.’
Outy, who spoke seldom, merely nodded his head and stumped off through the curtained doorway and down the hall.
Siward lay listening to his retreating footsteps and breathing heavily. His physician bent over him anxiously, pulling the bear skin closer about his broad chest, but the old Earl pushed the hands aside impatiently. ‘Get you gone,’ he said, ‘you cannot save me and I’ll be better without your help.’
His fingers plucked at the white fur and he remembered how, in the days of his greatest prowess in the field, the legend had grown that he was descended from a lady and a white bear. Well, if he was it was in the far distance of time, for he could recall the hall in Denmark where he had grown to manhood before he had come adventuring into England. He had killed the owner of this skin himself and ever since had lain beneath it at night. It had covered him on his wedding night when he had won a daughter of the ancient line of Northumbrian kings, and at the memory of that long forgotten passion and the fire of his loving he sighed wearily. She was long dead and it was all dust and ashes in his mouth. Even the blood-feud with the house of Carl in which she had involved him mattered little now. So much slaying – Thurbrand had murdered his wife’s grandfather, Earl Uhtred, and then he and his father-in-law Aldred had in turn slain Thurbrand whose son, Carl, rose in rage and slew Aldred. A stupid quarrel it seemed now, but such a feud was not easily healed.
He had never returned to his homeland for here, in this country he had grown to love, he had won fame and great lands. With his kinsman, Earl Godwine, and Earl Leofric of Mercia, he had become one of the three great men in England. Between them they had ruled all the land from the southern coast of Northumbria, owing little more than total allegiance to their King, Edward. But as Edward sat on great Canute’s throne, Siward set his hands between Edward’s and fought his battles for him. Well, Godwine was dead now and his sons ruled his house and the King as well; Leofric too was old, and near death they said, but he had sons and grandsons to carry on his name and did not have to leave his inheritance to a child.
Ah, if only Osbeorn had not died. Siward closed his eyes on the anxious faces around him, sending his mind back to last year’s campaign in Scotland when he had led the English army to victory over the usurper, Macbeth. A great victory – but it had cost his son’s life and at that price was too dear. He could see Osbeorn now, swinging the battle axe that had given him his nickname, Osbeorn Bulax – Osbeorn Timber-Axe. He had been big and strong like his father, handsome and in the first flush of youth, and a Scots spear had killed him. Siward asked if the spear had pierced back or breast and on being told that it was in the breast had replied, ‘Then my son died well with his face to the enemy.’
A piece of bravado that, to hide the awful tearing grief. Now he had only Waltheof left, his second son, a boy of eight years old. Was he to leave his great earldom of Diera, and the smaller one of Huntingdon and Northampton, to a child? He was afraid for the boy and lay restless, counting the slow hours that must pass before Outy could reasonably be expected to return with him. He listened to the priest muttering prayers, to his friends and household whispering anxiously, and as the time dragged by bore the pain in his body as best he might. They fed him watery soup which he loathed and he threw the bowl on the floor, calling for a horn of good ale – he was dying anyway so what did it matter? All that did matter was to keep alive until Waltheof came. A good name that, chosen by his regal wife, an ancient name with a ring to it and he wished she had lived to see the boy grown.
He lay with his eyes closed, beseeching his patron, St Olaf, that he might live a little longer. But it was summer and the roads were good, and on the fifth day there was an unusual scurrying in the hall, voices were raised, and at last the leather curtain was pulled aside and Outy stood there with his son.
Outy pushed the boy forward and Waltheof came uncertainly into the room. The window was covered by a heavy wooden shutter and it was semi-dark and stuffy after the light outside, the room almost entirely taken up by the bed. Waltheof, who had enjoyed the ride north, talking eagerly to Outy all the way, was over-awed by the dimness, the solemnity, the grave faces, and above all by the immense figure lying beneath the bearskin. He gazed at the bed, afraid, but then seeing his father not, after all, looking so very different he ran to him, clambering up into the outstretched arms.
Siward caught him in a great hug, felt the child’s arms go about his neck and after a moment warm moisture against his cheek.
‘There . . .’ he held the boy away from him, ‘there, my son, you must not weep for you are soon to be a man and to stand in my place. Come, let me look at you.’
Waltheof brushed the tears from his face and sat back on his heels. His father saw that he was growing into a sturdy boy likely to have the height, broad chest and strong legs that Osbeorn had had. The eyes were large and grey, thoughtful and reflecting the warmth of his nature, while his face, framed in thick fair hair, would become handsome as he grew to manhood. He wore a red woollen tunic belted about his waist, his legs were bare and sunburned and there were red leather shoes on his feet. A short circular cloak was fastened to one shoulder by a metal brooch set with an amber jewel.
Siward was satisfied with what he saw. ‘Get up,’ he commanded, ‘and stand by the bed. Outy!’
His servant came forward from the shadows. ‘Lord?’
‘Where is the timber-axe? Bring it to me.’
Outy laid the weapon in his master’s hands. It was three feet long, the handle of smooth oakwood, inlaid and cunningly wrought in silver, the axe-head polished and shining. It was heavy and Siward, furious at his weakness, was forced to let it lie on the bearskin. He smoothed the handle, thinking of the hands that had last wielded it.
‘My son,’ he said at length, ‘this was your brother’s. He bore it with honour. Now it is yours. Bear it as he did.’
He lifted the weapon with difficulty and gave it into the boy’s hands. The weight of it caused Waltheof to step back unsteadily, but then he took a firm grip on it, his eyes shining.
‘I will, father. I wish that God had made me a man sooner.’
‘You will grow.’ A faint smile crossed Siward’s face, but he sighed too for the same thought was in his head. ‘Once I thought to give you to Holy Church, but not now. You are the last of my house.’
His son’s mouth quivered. ‘Am I not to go back to Croyland? The monks are kind and . . .’
‘You are to go back for a while,’ the dying Earl interrupted, aware of how little time he had left. ‘Learn what you may – they are good teachers, our holy men, and Abbot Ulfcytel better than most, but they shall not set their tonsure on you. King Edward will stand your guardian. Outy!’
‘My lord?’
‘Be his body servant as you have been mine. Teach him to use his weapons, to hunt and to fish, to wrestle and run. For all he is born to great office I would have him know the ways of the earth as well.’
Outy said, ‘Never fret now. Have I been your man these twenty years without knowing your mind?’
The Earl seemed to relax against the cushions that supported him. Now that he had seen the boy and was pleased with what he saw, a measure of peace came to him.
In the morning he received the last Rites meekly, lying with closed eyes while the priest anointed him, and opening his mouth to receive for the last time the Body of Christ.
Waltheof knelt at the foot of the bed, overwhelmed by love for his father and the awful solemnity of this moment. It did not seem possible that this great man who had dominated his thoughts, if not his presence, all his life could be dying, would soon be dead, and he
could not bring himself to think of the morrow and the loneliness that must be his.
But rebellion was not yet over for a little while later Siward, sensing that death was imminent, suddenly gave a great shout and called for Outy.
‘Bring my battle harness, my helm, my arms,’ he commanded and began to heave his burdensome body from the bed. His attendants, used to obedience, ran to him. At first they tried to urge him back to bed but he brushed them aside like tiresome insects and Waltheof shrank back against the wall.
Siward bade them dress him. He put on his shirt and leather tunic sewn with metal plates, his Earl’s mantle, trimmed and decorated as befitted his office, and on his wild grey hair he bade them place his iron helm. Then he took his battle axe in his hands, resting it on the floor. He stood swaying, a massive figure, impressive enough still to strike terror into his enemies, even the last enemy of all.