by H A CULLEY
He laughed. ‘You’re not shy about saying what’s on your mind are you? What do you feel about it?’
‘I know I won’t be allowed to fall in love and marry where I choose; and who would choose a plain girl like me anyway. So I’d rather marry someone I admire and who I think will be my match intellectually; and someone who won’t beat me. Father sometimes beats mother when he’s drunk you know.’
‘No, I have never hit a woman, except in self-defence, of course,’ he grinned at her. ‘So do I meet your other criteria?’
‘Are you fishing for compliments, Cyning? I wouldn’t have thought that was in your character.’
‘It isn’t!’ He was beginning to like this young girl more and more. ‘I just want to make sure that you would be happy if I asked your father for your hand.’
‘I think you know the answer to that. You’d have known by now if I wasn’t happy with you.’
‘Good. I’ll speak to Cynegils in the morning.’
~~~
Oslac watched anxiously as Aidan paced up and down the proposed site for the new monastery. Eventually the new bishop, who would also be the monastery’s abbot, returned to where Oslac was waiting with Garrett and Lucan.
‘Yes, excellent site. I’m most grateful to your brother, Oslac. It has everything I could desire, including some isolated islets for us to retreat to for days of quiet meditation.’
‘Yes, Oswald thought that they would be useful for that. Perhaps he had our brother Offa in mind. He spends weeks at a time in the beehives on Iona.’
‘That is an excellent Idea. Perhaps we could induce him to join us here. He could become even more of a hermit on one of the Farne Islands.’
‘Yes, it would be good to know that he was so much nearer, and I’m sure our mother would be pleased too. She hasn’t seen him since he left for Iona aged twelve.’
‘Excellent. I need to send a messenger back to Iona in any case. Using the hall we can establish the monastery immediately. I’m sure we can recruit more novices here but I’ll need a few monks who are ordained priests and some more to act as Master of the Novices and the other administrative posts.’
‘But where will you all live? It will take time to build sufficient huts for the monks, besides you’ll need kitchens, storerooms and so on.’
‘We’ll have to make do with the hall for now.’
‘But I thought you’d need that for the church?’
‘No, we’ll use God’s amphitheatre.’
Seeing Oslac look at him still puzzled he explained.
‘We’ll hold out services in the open for now.’
‘But what if it rains, or even snows?’
‘Then I’ll keep my sermons short,’ Aidan said brusquely, bringing the discussion to an end.
Oslac returned to Bebbanburg to send a messenger to Iona. He would have to go via Care Luel and ask Oswiu to arrange for a boat for Iona. He would then bring the volunteers back with him.
‘How long will it take?’ the impatient Aidan asked him.
‘It’s September now and no-one in their right mind will sail along the west coast during the stormy season. That normally means from early November to March. That really means you have six weeks at most. It’s possible that they will be here this year, but I wouldn’t count on it.’
‘Very well. We’ll leave it in God’s capable hands.’
The next day Aidan started his mission to Northumbria by preaching to the islanders of Lindisfarne. He wasn’t about to commence his ministry amongst a load of heathens. His first problem was finding somewhere to baptise them. There was no running water on the island. Drinking water came from a number of wells and a cistern in which rainwater was collected. The sea was used for washing both bodies and clothes, though the locals didn’t do much of either. In the end he decided that he would either have to immerse them in the sea or fill a font and pour holy water over them from that. After deliberation, he decided on the latter.
Once he’d converted the islanders he began by visiting the vills nearby. Knowing that the king and his family were all Christians he found both people and nobles receptive in the main. By the time that twelve monks arrived, three of them priests, most islanders had become Christians, and had been persuaded to give Aidan a day’s free labour once a month for the good of their souls. A simple thorn fence had been constructed around the monastery to keep animals out and work on the timber huts had started. He’d even established a small colony of bees for honey, built a granary to house the wheat and barley he’d been given to see them through the winter and plant crops in the spring, and constructed a dovecote to provide pigeons for the table when it wasn’t a day of fasting.
Pleased as Aidan was to see the new monks, he was even more delighted to see who else had arrived with them. Ròidh’s wound had healed and he’d recovered enough to accompany the monks instead of waiting until the spring and the return of Oswald.
Garrett was surprised to find that he greeted Ròidh’s arrival with mixed feelings. He was now free to return to life as a ship’s boy. He couldn’t re-join his father’s crew as they were down in Wessex but there were other birlinns that patrolled the Northumbrian coast and he was certain he’d be able to join one of them. However, he’d enjoyed serving Aidan and had fallen under the charismatic bishop’s spell. He would find parting from him something of a wrench. He finally decided to ask Aidan if he could serve him and Ròidh when they began their journeys all over Northumbria to convert the people. His intention was to do that until he was fourteen and old enough to start his training as a warrior.
Aidan readily agreed. He liked the boy; he was honest, a hard worker and intelligent. He knew how much he wanted to be a warrior; however, he very much doubted that Garrett would leave him when he was fourteen if he stayed now.
~~~
Oswald woke the day after the welcoming feast determined to ask her father for Cyneburga’s hand in marriage but his conscience troubled him. He still hadn’t found a solution to the problem of Keeva and he wanted to resolve that first. He didn’t want to keep her a secret from his new wife; not that it would stay secret for long. The whole of Bebbanburg knew she was Oswald’s concubine. He needed to be open about it if possible and he needed to know how Cyneburga would view his current domestic arrangements. The trouble was he couldn’t get the girl alone to speak to her in private. It was all very well talking to her quietly at table but, if he asked to speak to her at any other time, her mother would doubtless stay within earshot as chaperone.
He wasn’t sure that he could broach the subject at the supper table either, even if he was sitting next to her again. If her reaction was adverse, perhaps vehemently so, she would doubtless draw unwelcome attention to themselves and he would have to explain. He groaned to himself but Eochaid overheard it.
‘Is something troubling you, Oswald?’
‘Yes, but this time it isn’t something you can help with, my friend.’
‘You won’t know that until you tell me what the problem is, now will you?’
Oswald sighed. ‘I want to marry Cyneburga; she’s witty and intelligent, despite her youth, and she will make me a good companion. Of course, it will also make Wessex an ally against Mercia. However, I can’t honestly say that I find her sexually attractive. Even if I did I don’t want to have to give up Keeva.’
‘No, she is rather plain isn’t she, but she might still be good in bed you know.’
Oswald grimaced. ‘It’s alright for you. You’re happily married to the woman you love.’
‘Hmmm, true; even if we aren’t together as much as I’d like.’
‘I suppose I’m to blame for that. You’ve been a good friend to me over the years.’
‘You thought I was a stuck up prig when we met all those years ago on Iona.’
‘Well, you were! But it didn’t take me long to peel away the arrogant brat and find the true you underneath.’
‘It’s a pity you couldn’t have had the same effect on my treacherous cur of a n
ephew.’
‘Don’t worry. I’m sure that Congal Cláen will meet his downfall soon. He’s upset too many people to live a long life.’
‘That’s what worries me. You know I have no desire to be King of the Ulaidh but I don’t think I’ll be able to avoid it if Congal dies. As you know, he’s only managed to produce one daughter so far and she’s still an infant. However, that doesn’t solve your little problem.’
‘No. Perhaps I should just offer to marry Cyneburga and hope for the best?’
‘Perhaps. You won’t be the first king to have had both a wife and a concubine.’
‘No, I suppose not. But I wouldn’t want to upset Cyneburga.’
‘You’re an enigma, you know. You’d quite happily kill a dozen men on the battlefield, even boys if they’re fighting against you, but you’re worried about the feelings of a twelve year old girl.’
‘That’s different. You are fighting for your life and for that of your men on the battlefield.’
‘What about those fifteen druids who disappeared on their way back from Yeavering?’
Oswald gave him a sharp look. ‘I concede that they were killed on my orders and in cold blood, but it was to prevent an uprising which could have cost a lot of lives. I would rather you didn’t mention that ever again.’
Eochaid was surprised by the vehemence with which Oswald said this. He had evidently touched on a raw nerve. Then he became angry.
‘We’ve been close friends for a long time, Oswald, and never once have you spoken to me like that. If you value our friendship don’t ever treat me like a naughty boy. I have always spoken my mind to you and you have always appreciated my honesty. I’m not going to start pussy-footing around you now,’ he told him coldly.
He stalked out of the room and Oswald realised that he had just compounded his problems. What was wrong with him?
He never had a chance to repair the damage. The following day Eochaid came to him to say that a messenger had arrived from Ulster. King Congal was gravely ill and was asking for him.
‘I’ve sent word to Bebbanburg for my wife and family to travel to Caer Luel. I’ll meet them there and travel over to Larne. Naturally, I’ll let you know the situation after I get there.’
There was little warmth in Eochaid’s words or his demeanour. Oswald went to embrace him but Eochaid turned away and boarded his birlinn.
‘Be careful of pirates,’ he called after him.
‘Only a fool would be at sea this late in the year. I wouldn’t be going unless I had to.’
The first of the winter storms had already occurred and there was still a heavy swell, although the wind had died down to a stiff breeze.
‘I’ll pray for you,’ Oswald told him with a smile.
For a second Eochaid smiled in return, then it faded and he gave the order to cast off. It would prove to be the last time Oswald saw his friend.
~~~
To Oswald Whiteblade, the letter from Eochaid to Oswald began, King of Northumbria, greetings.
No one regrets the manner of our parting more than I. It seems so petty in retrospect after nearly twenty years of friendship. I said that I would let you know the situation in Ulster. My nephew is slowly recovering but he is still very weak and it’s likely to be some time before he’ll regain his strength. In the meantime he has asked me to be his war leader, what you Angles would call his hereræswa, and I have agreed.
He is much changed and, although I can never forgive him for betraying my father and causing his death, I am prepared to stay for the sake of my people. I hope that we will be able to work together after he recovers.
The Uí Néill continue to try and encroach on our territory; indeed they seem determined to take over all of Ulster. Domnall Brecc sends us no aid, although officially he is our high king. No doubt he has enough troubles of his own with the warlike Owain of Strathclyde trying to retake Cowal and even Arran. Anything you can do to divert Owain’s attention to his border with Rheged and Northumbria would be welcome.
I think you should marry your Wessex princess and tell her that she will have to share you with Keeva. I’m sure she’ll understand. You’ll be kind to her and look after her, which is a better fate than many royal brides enjoy. I’m told that Penda beats his wife regularly just to remind her that he is her master but, of course, that may just be a tale circulated by his enemies. Heaven knows he has enough of them.
One rumour that I have heard and which might interest you is that he plans to take over the Kingdom of the Middle Angles on his eastern border and place his oaf of a son, Peada, on the throne as his vassal.
Take care my friend and God be with you.
Eochaid.
Oswald felt a great relief that the rift between them seemed to have been healed, but the warning about Penda’s plans to expand his kingdom caused him some concern. He decided to go and talk to Cynegils. Not only would the acquisition of Middle Anglia threaten Deira, it would also extend Mercia’s border with Wessex. True, there were two buffer territories in the way, the Middle Saxons in the case of Wessex and Lindsey in the case of Deira, but they were both small and weak. It was likely that Penda planned to take them next.
‘Cynegils, good morning. I hope I’m not disturbing you? ’
Cynegils was with Bishop Birinus discussing his forthcoming baptism and that of his family.
‘Ah, Oswald, it seems we have a little difficulty concerning the ceremony next week. My elder son had just told Birinus that he doesn’t believe in Christ and he wishes to remain a pagan. The boy had ever been a concern to me. I’m sure Œthelwald doesn’t give you the problems that Cewalh gives me.’
Oswald smiled grimly and waited until the bishop had made his excuses and left them before replying.
‘I wish that were true. Œthelwald is ambitious and resents the fact that I don’t give him enough responsibility. I have good reason not to. He is a poor leader of men and has little military skill.’
‘Do you not wish him to succeed you?’
Oswald wasn’t about to answer that question. If he fell in battle he’d want Oswiu to follow him, but that wasn’t something he’d want known. It would make his son hate Oswiu even more than he did now.
‘It’s not my choice; it’ll be up to the Witan. On a more important matter, I have just had a warning that Penda is planning to absorb Middle Anglia into Mercia and make Peada its sub-king.’
‘Really? How certain are you of this information?’
‘It’s only a rumour, but it seems fairly widespread in Ireland.’
Cynegils was puzzled. ‘Why Ireland? If we haven’t heard of it here?’
‘Because Penda has been recruiting men there, and in Cymru.’
‘Ah, I see. Then that would seem to confirm that he is preparing for war again. What will you do?’
‘I’ll move into Lindsey whilst he is busy consolidating his position in Middle Anglia.’
‘Hmm, won’t that provoke him into war with you?’
‘Not if you threaten him from the south and I invade Lindsey in force. He lost a lot of his best warriors at Heavenfield, which is why he’s recruiting Irish and Welsh ones to replace them, but they are ill-disciplined and poorly armed. He’s not ready to go to war with us yet.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
~~~
Oswald licked his lips nervously. Apart from the noticeable absence of Cewalh, the baptism had gone well and Birinus was making progress with the conversion of the nobility. He seemed to feel, as Paulinus had done in Northumbria, that the common people would follow the lead set by their betters. Oswald was not so sure. Aidan was, he knew, convinced that you needed to convert the country vill by vill, nobles and the people together.
But he had other matters on his mind today. He was about to marry Cyneburga and he still hadn’t told her about Keeva. He was ready to do so but they hadn’t been alone together since their marriage had been agreed.
He took a deep breath and walked over towards the new stone built church i
n Wintan-ceastre. The snow crunched under foot as he walked, accompanied by his steersman and the three shipmasters from the pontos. The sky overhead was now blue but there were clouds of steel grey moving in from the west and he fully expected it to be snowing again by the time the ceremony was over. At least the frozen ground, after last night’s hard frost, was preferable to the normal mixture of mud, faeces and rubbish that one had to wade through to get from one place in the town to another.
Bishop Birinus conducted the brief wedding service and then celebrated the Roman mass. It was not something that Oswald was comfortable with as it was quite different to the Celtic Church’s. However, the interminable sermon was depressingly similar. He was aware that his new wife kept giving him sidelong glances throughout the prayers that followed. He couldn’t work out whether she was flirting with him or was just anxious about how he’d treat her. Oswald began to wish he could get up off his knees as they were beginning to ache after long contact with the stone paving. At least in the Celtic Church prayers were said standing up.
As he had expected, it was snowing hard as they left the church and an extra inch or so had fallen. This had been trodden into slush by the feet of the hundreds of well-wishers who had come to gawp at the happy couple, so he was glad that there were two horses waiting to convey them back to the king’s hall for the feast that was to follow.
‘Thank goodness that’s over,’ Cyneburga whispered to him once they were seated together next to Cynegils at the high table. ‘I thought that Birinus was never going to shut up.’
Oswald had to stifle a laugh. Perhaps marriage to Cyneburga would be enjoyable after all.
After they had been conducted to their bedchamber by a crowd of drunken men and giggling women, they lay naked beside each other. She had become very quiet and nervous and he was equally reticent. He kept thinking of the last time had made love to Keeva and he had absolutely no desire to do the same to this plain virgin with hardly any breasts as yet.
