WARRIORS OF THE NORTH: Kings of Northumbria Book 2

by H A CULLEY

  ‘He has a reputation as a fearless fighter. In my experience dishonest tricksters tend to hang back and let others do the fighting for them,’ the one who’d snorted said.

  At that moment one of the king’s servants appeared hovering in the doorway. When Æthelberht waved him in he came and whispered in his ear.

  ‘There is a messenger here from King Cynegils. He asked me to give you this immediately.’

  As soon as he’d handed the sealed scroll in its waxed leather pouch to the king he withdrew. Unlike Oswald and Oswiu, Æthelberht had never learned to read, either in Latin or in English. He handed the pouch to Honorius who took out the scroll and unfurled it.

  ‘It starts with the usual greetings and then he goes on as follows:

  Having persuaded Peada to surrender Hwicce to me by threatening to burn Towcester and most of Mercia to the ground, I have now moved to Oxenforda. I gather that their eorl is in Ludenwic and so they were in no position to resist me. I have sent messengers to the Middle, South and East Saxons but none have replied to me as yet. I hope that they can be dissuaded from the folly of allowing the pagan Penda to conquer East Anglia. That would make him too powerful for us to resist.

  My son-in-law, Oswald of Northumbria, is heading for Ludenwic by sea, if he has not already arrived there. He believes that, if he can capture it, it will apply pressure on the other Saxons kings to desert Penda’s side.

  I am well aware that we haven’t always been friends in the past but I pray you, assist Oswald in his endeavours. I leave Oxenforda tomorrow heading for Ludenwic with my war host. I pray that we can join forces with Oswald as allies. I have no desires on Ludenwic, provided it doesn’t remain in the hands of Penda.

  It concludes with the usual good wishes.’

  ‘Well, I think that makes my mind up for me. Send someone for Oswald; we’ll join forces with him, summon our men and be ready to join Cynegils war host when it arrives.’

  ~~~

  ‘There is a messenger here from Toland, father. He has surrendered Ludenwic to Æthelberht.’

  ‘What? Why? Has the man gone mad? Surely he could have held out against Kent, especially as the place is surrounded by our allies.’

  ‘Apparently he brought nearly two thousand men against it.’

  ‘Two thou…. Where he get than number from, even with his fyrd I doubt he could raise much more than a thousand.’

  ‘Apparently he was supported by war bands from Northumbria and Wessex, or so the messenger says.’

  ‘Where is the snivelling cur, he must be mistaken. Bring him in.’

  His disbelief faded away when he saw that the messenger was Toland’s eldest son. He was unlikely to be wrong.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Æthelberht, Oswald and Cynegils attacked at dawn, Cyning. We were outnumbered by nearly ten to one. We didn’t stand a chance. I saw my father fall to Whiteblade’s sword and, knowing that the situation was hopeless, I seized a horse and escaped the slaughter to bring you word.’

  ‘You did right, boy. Thank you. I’m sorry about your father. Wait! You say Cynegils was there?’

  ‘Yes, Cyning. At least I saw his banner and a man who looked very like him on his distinctive white horse.’

  He turned to Peada.

  ‘You fool, he tricked you. He swore on the Bible that he would retreat via Oxenforda. What he obviously didn’t swear was to return to Wessex.’

  ‘We can march south and re-capture it, father.’

  ‘What with? I’ve been outwitted and I’ve lost Ludenwic. Moreover there is an army two thousand strong facing us if I try to go south.’

  ‘We have the same number here,’

  ‘Yes, with the South, Middle and East Saxons. They joined us through fear. Now that I’ve been made a fool of and there is a powerful army sitting threatening all three of their kingdoms not one of their men will still be here as soon as this news spreads. Do you still fancy fighting an army over three thousand strong led by the accursed Oswald with one a third its size? No, of course not.

  This fiasco has cost me Ludenwic and Hwicce, Mercia has been ravaged by the West Saxons and what have I got to show for it? Nothing, not a bloody thing. Once day, Oswald, I’m going to take great delight in taking your head from your shoulders. In the meantime we go home and lick our wounds.’

  CHAPTER TEN - WAR ON TWO FRONTS

  641 – 642 AD

  Oswiu lay on the bed made of layers of furs and played with his son, Ehlfrith. He’d been born in Caer Luel eighteen months ago and now Rhieinmelth thought that she might be pregnant again. Ever since he had given up Fianna and she’d married Jarlath he’d missed his first born son. He hadn’t seen the boy for years and he now had a real desire to do so. Aldfrith must be seven now. He knew that Jarlath and Fianna had two boys of their own and he wondered whether they would agree to him coming to live with him. He decided to write and ask.

  ‘I’ve written to Jarlath,’ he began.

  ‘Jarlath? The commander of Oswald’s gesith? Why?’

  He realised that his wife must have forgotten that Jarlath had married his concubine.

  ‘Because Aldfrith is now seven and I want him to be brought up in my hall.’

  ‘Aldfrith? Oh, you mean the bastard you sired before you married me. I’d thought you’d forgotten all about him. I certainly had, until you unwisely reminded me, that is.’

  Oswiu had been in love with Rhieinmelth when they wed. He thought that she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen and he’d enjoyed making love to her. However, Oswald had noticed a definite cooling in their relationship in recent years. The two brothers didn’t see much of each other but the last time they’d met Oswald had asked him if the couple were having problems.

  ‘Rhieinmelth doesn’t seem as happy as she used to be these days; is something wrong between you.’

  ‘If anyone else had asked me that I’ve have brushed it off, but you know me too well.’ Oswiu sighed deeply. ‘Once the initial novelty of our marriage wore off we discovered that we had little in common. I despise the Britons in Strathclyde and did little to hide it, forgetting that she and her people were Britons too. It drove a wedge between us.’

  ‘But Strathclyde has always been the enemy of Rheged.’

  ‘I think she saw my attitude towards Strathclyde, and the Welsh come to that, as indicative of a bias against her race as a whole. But that hasn’t been the only difficulty. I see so many problems with the way that her father rules Rheged and want to improve matters, but she defends her father every time I suggest some change. That frustrates me and things keep getting worse between us.’

  ‘What will you do?’

  ‘I know I can’t put her aside, at least not yet. My claim to a throne of my own depends on my remaining as her husband. Once her father dies and I become king, then I might be able to do something, but even then putting my wife into a convent, which would be the easiest way of divorcing her, would alienate me from her people.’

  The two brothers had gone on to talk about other things.

  Over the past two years the arrival of their son Ehlfrith had brought Oswiu and Rhieinmelth a little closer together, but that just meant that they tolerated each other a little better.

  Then the sudden death of her father had hit Rhieinmelth hard. She had withdrawn into herself and left Oswiu alone to rule Rheged.

  Her attitude to his announcement about his eldest son hadn’t come as a surprise, but the arrival of Aldfrith had turned her antipathy towards her husband into outright animosity. Now she wasn’t even polite to him in public. Then came the news that drove all concerns about domestic disharmony from his mind.

  Oswiu was amazed when an envoy arrived from Talorc, the paramount king of the Picts.

  ‘Brenin,’ the man began, speaking in the Brythonic tongue, ‘King Talorc sends you his greetings and a wish that our two countries might be reconciled.’

  ‘I find that hard to credit when he was instrumental in the defeat of my ally, King Domnall, bare
ly two years ago.’

  ‘Our quarrel was with him, not with Rheged, King Oswiu.’

  ‘I’m not sure it’s that simple, but you mentioned something about reconciliation?’

  ‘As I’m sure you know, my people and Owain of Strathclyde are fighting over the area of Lorne north of Loch Etive that we conquered together. King Talorc was wondering whether you might assist him by invading Manau. It would mean that Strathclyde would be fighting on two fronts and you would gain a province to add your brother’s province of Goddodin.’

  ‘Before Strathclyde captured it, Manau was part of Dalriada. Don’t you think that Domnall Brecc might be a trifle upset if I now captured it?’

  ‘Perhaps,’ he conceded. ‘I don’t suppose that Talorc minds who invades it, just so long as Owain has to weaken his forces in the north in order to defend it.’

  ‘Very well. Let me think about it and we’ll meet again tomorrow.’

  He considered going to discuss the situation with his wife but he knew that she would just tell him not to get involved. If something didn’t affect Rheged directly she wasn’t interested; whereas Oswiu had a loyalty to Oswald and Northumbria as well. If Domnall could regain Manau it would give Dalriada a border, albeit a short one, with Goddodin just south of the point where the Firth of Forth became a river. That would make co-operation between Northumbria and Dalriada much easier.

  ‘I’ve given King Talorc’s proposal much thought. I’m going to suggest to my brother that he and Talorc become allies. That will give Owain pause for thought and may help to contain his expansionist ambitions; that is, provided Talorc is willing, of course,’ Oswiu told the Pict the following day.

  ‘I suspect that he might not be averse to the idea,’ he replied cautiously. ‘What of Manau?’

  ‘I don’t want to get involved. War between Strathclyde and Northumbria would inevitably drag Rheged into the conflict as we border Strathclyde to the south. However, I will write to Domnall Brecc and suggest that he might like to take the opportunity war in northern Lorne offers for him to regain Manau.’

  ‘Very well. It is less than we had wanted, but let’s hope he feels strong enough to act on your suggestion.’

  ‘Before you go, you are evidently no ordinary messenger. You haven’t told me your name.’

  ‘No, I didn’t, did I? I’m your nephew.’

  ‘My nephew? I didn’t know I had a Pictish neph-. Ah! You must be Talorgan, my late half-brother Eanfrith’s son. You made a wise choice when you decided to stay with your mother’s people instead of returning to Northumbria with your father.’

  ‘It wasn’t a difficult choice. Remember I’m three-quarters Pict and only a quarter Northumbrian.’

  Rather than send a messenger, Oswiu decided to travel to Yeavering himself to see Oswald. It was some time since the two had met and he’d take Aldfrith with him so that the boy could see his mother.

  Fianna had hardly been overjoyed when Jarlath told her that Oswiu had sent for his son. She had wept and Jarlath wished that there was something he could do, but Oswiu was a king and the boy’s father. He couldn’t gainsay him. Over the past six months Fianna had got used to his loss, helped by the fact that she had two children with Jarlath. However, re-uniting her with her eldest for a brief period wasn’t likely to help anyone. Had Oswiu and his wife been on speaking terms she could have pointed this out to him, but she wasn’t interested in the slightest when he told her he was going to visit Oswald. Her only reaction had been relief that she wouldn’t have to put up him for a while.

  It galled her that her husband still expected to sleep with her whenever the fancy took him. She only wished that he’d followed his brother’s example and kept Fianna around for sex. She’d once asked him why he didn’t take a mistress but he had looked at her with horror.

  ‘Adultery is prohibited by God,’ he’d replied. ‘I still pray for forgiveness for taking Fianna to my bed out of wedlock.’

  As he’d grown older Oswiu had become more devout and had even founded a monastery near Care Luel in expiation of his sins.

  ‘Oswiu, it does my heart good to see you,’ Oswald cried when his brother dismounted outside the king’s hall at Yeavering.

  Oswald was now thirty seven and was a little stouter than when Oswiu had last seen him. He also had a few grey hairs at his temples. Oswiu, on the other hand, was much as Oswald remembered him. At twenty nine the King of Rheged was in his prime and was, if anything, a little thinner now.

  Oslac came forward to embrace his brother as soon as Oswald stepped back. He had changed the most. He was four years younger than Oswald but looked older. He had developed a distinct paunch and he was rapidly losing his hair; so much so that his tonsure was barely discernible now.

  When he stepped back Oswiu saw his mother waiting for him to greet her. She was in her late fifties and looked it. The odd strand of hair that had escaped from her head cloth was quite grey and her face was lined with deep creases. She stooped a little now and walked with the aid of a stick.

  ‘Mother.’ He bowed slightly but made no attempt to embrace her. Her smile faded but she had expected it. They had never been close and had fallen out too many times for him to pretend that he loved her. ‘I trust you are well?’

  ‘Apart from the pains in my joints and the lack of teeth to chew my food, I’m fine thank you, Oswiu. You remember your sister?’

  For the first time Oswiu noticed the woman standing slightly behind Acha. At first he didn’t recognise her. His sister, Æbbe, had been a girl when he’d last seen her, now she was twenty five and dressed as a nun. He grasped her hands and kissed her on the cheek.

  ‘What are you doing here? I thought you were at Ebchester.’

  ‘It’s good to see you too, Oswiu,’ she replied with a laugh. ‘Oswald and Bishop Aidan have agreed to found a new monastery at Coldingham. It’ll be for nuns to complement the male house on Lindisfarne. I’m to be the abbess.’

  ‘But that’s marvellous. Have you found any girls to join you as novices?’

  ‘Well, only one so far.’

  ‘And I’m far from being a girl,’ Acha added. ‘I’ve decided to spend what few days remain to me in quiet prayer and contemplation preparing for the afterlife, so you won’t have to see me again. You should be pleased,’ she said with a touch of bitterness.

  ‘Oh, mother. It was never my wish for there to be such rancour between us. It was just that we seemed to argue whenever we came together. Perhaps we’re too alike?’

  ‘Perhaps. However, I gather that there is similar acrimony between you and Rhieinmelth. Have you ever thought that you might be at fault and not the women in your life?’

  Oswiu stiffened and bit back an angry retort.

  ‘I gave up Fianna, who I loved deeply, for Rhieinmelth. It might have been politically sensible, but it was a grave mistake for me personally. I haven’t been happy since. At least I know have Aldfrith by my side.’

  ‘Yes, it was another mistake, to bring the boy here I mean. Seeing his mother and the only father he’s really known will be upsetting for him. It’ll be hard on Fianna and Jarlath too.’

  ‘Jarlath?’

  ‘Yes, he was man enough to accept your by-blow as his own and when you decided you wanted the boy after all, he sent him to you without protest. In my eyes that makes him much more a man than his real father is.’

  No one had remembered that Aldfrith was listening to all this. Suddenly he gave out a wail and, kicking his heels into his pony, he galloped off down the valley heading westwards.

  ‘Oh shit,’ Oswiu exclaimed. ‘Well done mother. This is your fault, as usual. If I never see you again it’ll be too soon.’

  He jumped onto his own horse and, before anyone realised what was happening, he set off after his son. His gesith had dismounted and set their horses free to graze on the lush grassland whilst the family were greeting each other. No one was therefore ready to accompany their king and by the time that they had gathered their wits, Oswiu and his son had dis
appeared around a bend in the river.

  The first person to recover was Jarlath. He’d been standing with Oswald’s gesith at a distance, but not so far away that he couldn’t hear what was being said. When Aldfrith bolted in shame he’d reacted without thinking and ran forward, vaulted into the saddle of the nearest horse and set off in pursuit.

  ‘What a bloody family,’ Œthelwald muttered quietly, but not so quietly that his father hadn’t heard. His son had returned from Iona to start his training as a warrior no more likeable than when he’d left. Now he’d finished his training and his father didn’t know what to do with him.

  It didn’t take Oswiu long to catch up with Aldfrith but the boy refused to stop. Oswiu solved that problem by moving his horse alongside his son’s pony and, putting an arm around the boy’s slim waist, he lifted him bodily off the pony and sat him in front of him. He pulled his stallion to a halt with difficulty and then dismounted before lifted the sobbing boy down and clutching him to his chest.

  ‘You grandmother had no right to say those things. She’s a nasty, spiteful, vindictive old woman. I love you very much.’

  ‘Then why did you go away and leave me?’

  ‘Because he didn’t want the burden of children when he had a new wife to entertain,’ a quiet voice said from behind them.

  Neither had noticed Jarlath ride up. He now sat there looking down at them with conflicting emotions.

  ‘Do you really love Aldfrith, Oswiu?’

  ‘I swear by Christ’s Holy name that I do.’

  ‘What about Ehlfrith?’

  ‘Well, I love him too, of course. But he is still a baby.’

  ‘I mean which one will succeed you as King of Rheged?’

  Oswiu’s flushed with anger.

  ‘That’s got nothing to do with you.’

  ‘Don’t argue,’ Aldfrith almost screamed at them. ‘You’re as bad as one another. You both say you love me, but you never think about me. When I see my father and my foster-father arguing like this, how do you think it makes me feel?’