by Millie Thom
‘Well, now I think it’s time for the honeycakes,’ Odella said, rising to fetch them. ‘I’ve never seen either of you play so well, so it’s sweet cakes for you both, and a cup of buttermilk to wash them down.
‘The things I do to keep the peace,’ she mumbled to herself as she placed the small cakes on a wooden dish.
*****
Dusk was beginning to fall by the time the three men arrived back at Elston. Eadwulf grinned as his two offspring charged at him, arms outstretched.
‘Well, I see that at least two people have missed me,’ he said, picking up Leofwynn with one arm and wrapping the other around Aethelred. ‘But what I want to know, before I dig into my saddle pouch to see what I might find, is how well you’ve behaved for Odella.’
At the children’s guilty looks, Eadwulf winked at Odella, standing beside Aethelnoth. Odella just smiled and held out her hands. Eadwulf knew she was devoted to his children, and always coped with whatever challenging behaviour they displayed. But he did worry how she’d cope when her own babe arrived.
‘I’m sure they behaved just as well as my sister and I did when we were young,’ Jorund put in, causing all but the children to laugh. Everyone knew about Jorund and Yrsa’s almighty squabbles at Ribe.
‘Then next time Eadwulf leaves the hall for a while, Jorund, perhaps you should be the one to take care of these two,’ Aethelnoth added. ‘You’re obviously well informed regarding sibling affections . . . and disaffections.’
Odella gave him a playful thump on the arm. ‘I’m the one who will look after these two, although another woman to help me for a while would be appreciated.’
‘Then find the woman to suit and it will be arranged.’
‘Thank you, Eadwulf,’ Odella said. ‘That has greatly eased my mind.’
*****
The evening meal was being served when there was a loud hammering on the door. Servants stopped in their tracks and the four seated men shared a look. None of the estate’s ceorls would have knocked like that.
Eadwulf left the table, collected his sword from where it hung on the wall and was quickly followed by the other three. He motioned them to keep close as he headed for the door and pulled back the wooden bar.
‘Well, I can see you were expecting unfriendly guests,’ Bjorn said, looking bemusedly at the tip of the huge sword pointing at him as the door swung back. ‘If it’s all the same to you, Ulf, I’d feel somewhat safer with that implement securely sheathed. I can assure you, I’m really quite pleasant to my acquaintances.’
Eadwulf grinned and stepped back, allowing Bjorn to enter. Hastein and Leif followed him in, wide grins on their faces. Not one of them looked a day older than the last time he’d seen them. Bjorn and Hastein hadn’t a grey hair between them. Leif retained a ring of long hair and straggling beard to match, and Bjorn’s neatly trimmed beard still contasted with his cousin’s clean-shaven face.
‘You’re looking good, Ulf,’ Hastein said. ‘Your lovely wife must be looking after you.’
‘Still no beard, though,’ Leif added, slapping Eadwulf on the back as he followed behind.
Eadwulf swallowed hard and led the three men to sit at the table. He could not inform them of his wife or Wigstan’s death just yet. There would be time for that once the explanations were over. Aethelnoth and Jorund were beaming like a pair of idiots and Aethelred and Leofwynn simply gawked at the new arrivals.
The three Danes were tucking into bowls of steaming pottage before Eadwulf spoke. ‘The last time you paid me a visit was to bring information, as well as to deliver these two grinning fools here. So, do I assume your reason to be the same again – minus the fools?’
Aethelnoth and Jorund pulled indignant faces at the insult and laughter erupted.
‘Well, Ulf, I can’t say I’ve any particular fools to give away on this occasion,’ Hastein said, pulling an earl lobe, just as Eadwulf remembered him doing so often all those years ago. ‘My household has been somewhat subdued of late . . . if we don’t count Yrsa’s many opinionated remarks.’
‘Is my sister well?’ Jorund asked, suddenly alert to the conversation.
‘She is, and a real charmer when she keeps her temper,’ Hastein replied, chuckling. ‘She rules the roost around my hall when Freydis is preoccupied with looking after Thora.’
Eadwulf thought of the kindly woman who had helped him so much during his first weeks of thraldom, only later to discover she was Freydis’s mother. ‘Is Thora just growing old, or is she suffering from some illness?’
Hastein shrugged. ‘Thora’s by no means young any more, but she is ailing. Her old bones cause her pain, and if not for the herbal potions that Freydis brews, she would barely be able to move at all. I think, perhaps, she has reached the stage where she just wants to die peacefully. Freydis constantly worries, and sits with her whenever she can. If not for Yrsa, I think our hall might come to a standstill.’
Eadwulf just nodded. There was nothing he could say to that.
Bjorn put down his spoon and looked levelly at Eadwulf. ‘Though it does the three of us good to see you, Ulf, we do have something of importance to say. Before we do, perhaps Leoflaed ought to be present.’ He glanced about, questioningly. ‘Perhaps your father-by-marriage would also care to hear –’
‘That won’t be possible,’ Eadwulf replied, feeling as though his anguish had suddenly been stirred back into life. ‘Both Leoflaed and Wigstan are dead.’
The room fell silent and Eadwulf’s eyes met Bjorn’s across the table.
Bjorn reached out and laid his hand on Eadwulf’s arm. ‘You have our sincerest condolences, Ulf,’ he said, glancing from side to side at Hastein and Leif as they nodded, the sympathy on their faces evident. ‘We had no idea.’
‘Of course you didn’t . . . how could you have?’ Eadwulf said with a brave smile, his eyes moving between his three old friends. ‘Leoflaed died in childbed and for a long time I found it hard to cope with her loss, as well as that of our stillborn son. Only the love I have for my children and the support of those around me kept me from absolute despair.
‘When Wigstan died in February,’ he continued when no one spoke, ‘it plunged me further into misery. He was a rare old man and doted on his daughter. Her death hit him so hard . . . He just seemed to give up on life and even stopped eating. He became so weak, he fell as he tried to get out of his bed . . . cracked his head on the corner of a wooden chest and knocked himself out. He never regained consciousness and died a few days later.’
Bjorn shook his head, sadly. ‘You’ve had more than your share of loss in your life. But you will come to terms with these latest tragedies, just as you always do. You have much to live for,’ he added, gesturing to the two children.
Then Leif said, ‘Have you any plans for the future, Ulf? I mean, do you intend to stay here for ever?’
‘Leif, old friend, forever is a very long time. My children are here, and the hall and estate will be Aethelred’s one day. But me . . .? The first thing I intend to do is find Burgred . . .’
Bjorn nodded his understanding. ‘I don’t imagine you heard about Ivar’s death?’ he said. Eadwulf raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, wondering where this would lead. ‘Killed inside his wagon, it seems, by Odin knows who. Whatever was used to garrotte him, the killer must have taken away with him.’
‘We hadn’t heard,’ Eadwulf replied casually, looking to Aethelnoth and Jorund’s bemused faces and shaking heads for confirmation.
‘So, Ulf,’ Hastein said by way of veering away from the subject, ‘you say you have no definite plans for the year?’
‘Only two things spring to mind at present. The first is to head down to Gloucester and try to get closer to Burgred than I managed at Nottingham a few years ago. He’ll be in that region for some weeks, I’m told – until he’s had enough of the Welsh. I don’t think I need to explain my intentions when I do find him.’
Hastein nodded. ‘The second?’
‘I’ve decided to join the ar
my of the new Wessex king for a while.’ He glanced guiltily at Jorund and Aethelnoth, having not yet even disclosed his intentions to either. ‘We’ve just had news of King Aethelred’s death and Alfred’s crowning . . . and the arrival of a huge fleet of enemy reinforcements at Reading. People in Nottingham were calling it “The Great Summer Army”.’
‘Led by Guthrum, amongst others,’ Hastein supplied. ‘He’s been rallying his forces since January. He’s a sly dog, if ever there was one; on a par with Weland, in my opinion.’
Eadwulf held out his hands. ‘Which only bolsters my point that Alfred needs all the help he can get.'
‘I don’t see why that should send you running down to Wessex,’ Jorund said, glaring at his brother. ‘This is Mercia, unless you’ve forgotten. Why should Wessex be of more concern to you than here? Besides, you’re only one man. That’s hardly going to boost Alfred’s army a great deal.’
The three Danes remained silent, shuffling a little, evidently uncomfortable in the face of a possible row.
‘Mercia means more to me than you could imagine, Jorund. Our father was her king, and Aethelnoth and I spent our earliest years here.’ Chastened, Jorund hung his head. ‘King Beorhtwulf also died here – but not before he’d allied Mercia to Wessex. By then, King Aethelwulf had pledged to help Mercia when the invaders came. And Aethelwulf’s son, Aethelred, when he was king, rallied to our aid at Nottingham three years ago.’
‘So what are you saying?’
‘That we owe a debt to Wessex, brother, which that scum, Burgred, refuses to honour. He has turned down a plea for aid from a kingdom so besieged it seems likely that the enemy will subjugate it before long. And what does Burgred do? Run off and hide in Wales!’
Eadwulf’s temper had risen now and he nodded at the Danes by way of apology. Bjorn merely waved the outburst away as of little importance, although Eadwulf knew well that the enemies he denounced were Bjorn’s own countrymen.
‘What your brother is saying,’ Aethelnoth said, calmly turning to face Jorund, ‘is that he and I are ashamed that our own king is a coward, who thinks only of his own skin. He has failed Wessex miserably, and perhaps fatally, by his dishonourable response.’
‘And I feel that shame as though it were my own.’ Eadwulf looked levelly at Jorund. ‘So the least I can do is to offer Wessex my sword.’
‘Then l’m going with you,’ Aethelnoth declared.
Odella gasped as she topped up the ale mugs. ‘You would leave us all now, Aethelnoth?’ she asked, the hurt of that thought patent in her voice. Her hand inadvertently rested on her abdomen as her blue gaze met her husband’s brown.
‘Well . . . no,’ Aethelnoth said, reaching for her hand. ‘I wasn’t thinking for a moment, that’s all.’
‘I think this seems to be the appropriate place for me to interrupt, if I may.’
Bjorn’s voice broke the uncomfortable silence and all eyes fixed on him.
‘I can offer no apology for my people’s presence in your lands,’ he said, his eyes moving between Eadwulf, Aethelnoth and Jorund. ‘And the fact that they are here leaves us in a somewhat difficult position. Naturally, I’m concerned about my two remaining brothers, and Ivar’s death has left us with too many unanswered questions.’ At his sides, Hastein and Leif were nodding. ‘Ivar was a devious cur and, at times, downright evil. Even in our own land there are many who might have wished him dead, so I doubt we’ll ever discover who killed him.’ His eyes flicked briefly to Eadwulf, the accusation hovering between them. ‘Halfdan was always under his spell and dared not disobey him. He might have been a different person had Ivar not dominated him from birth. If Halfdan now leads this “Great Army”, I can only assume he’s learned more from Ivar than I had thought.’
Eadwulf waited, knowing that his old master had more to say.
‘But Ubbi’s a different matter,’ Bjorn eventually went on. ‘He is, perhaps, a little more like me. Raiding’s in his blood, but that’s not the reason he joined our brothers in this invasion. At first it was pure revenge for our father.’ Bjorn’s brow furrowed as he thought. ‘I imagine he got the taste for raiding after that. The last reports we had put his fleet along the south coast of Wessex . . .
‘I’ll say no more of this, though I might ask that you, also, keep the situation in these kingdoms to yourself.’ He gestured to Hastein and Leif. ‘We value your friendship too highly, Ulf, to lose it over something that none of us, at this time, are directly involved in.’
‘You’re right,’ Eadwulf said. ‘It was stupid of me to speak of it. You deserve better from me than that.’
Again Bjorn waved away Eadwulf’s apology. ‘Now, I think it’s time to reveal our reason for coming here . . .’ He paused, and Eadwulf could see he was struggling to put his thoughts into words. ‘We’ve come here to see you, Ulf, because we feel we owe it to you . . . to bring you news of something that could well change the plans we have just heard you disclose.’
‘Just get it out, Bjorn,’ Leif said grinning. ‘You sound more like Hastein today than Hastein does himself!’
The men chortled at that and Bjorn nodded. ‘Right then, here’s the thing. ‘Moored on the Trent River across your meadows is my new ship, Sea Eagle Two. I liked the name so much I just had to–’
‘Thor’s balls, Bjorn, get on with it. He’ll see the ship himself tomorrow . . . Well, maybe,’ he added, averting his eyes as he realised he’d said a little too much.
Bjorn shook his head. ‘Thanks, Leif. I couldn’t have got it out better myself!’
Eadwulf shrugged, by now totally confused, but also intrigued.
‘I’ve recently learned something from a very reliable source that will shock you to the core,’ Bjorn continued. ‘And when I’ve shared this with you, I’ll ask you a question.’ Eadwulf nodded. ‘I have a dozen ships waiting for me beyond the Humber, their crews all hoping we’ll soon be sailing for the Middle Sea.’
Eadwulf gaped as understanding dawned. ‘You want me to sail with you? But why?’
Bjorn grinned. ‘To find your father, Ulf. It’s possible that King Beorhtwulf is still alive. Will you come . . .?’
