Northman Part 2

by M J Porter

  He’d hoped for more certainty for his children than he’d ever had, but it was beginning to look as though he’d lived through a period of safety and security at their age, and he couldn’t, just couldn’t see that peace would return anytime soon. Despite what the king said, and Eadric postulated.

  Neither was it just the threat from Cnut that plagued him. His visit from Edmund hadn’t unsettled him, but it had highlighted a problem he’d been expecting but hoping that the king would solve himself, that of his sons from his two marriages. The Queen was adamant that her sons should inherit the throne after their father, but Athelstan had been, and now Edmund was just as determined that it should go to him. Leofwine would have preferred not to be involved in a family dispute, but when the family ruled his land, he was left with little choice.

  Northman was determined that whatever happened, Eadric and his son should have no claim to the throne. His children weren’t classified as æthelings, but everyone knew that wouldn’t stop him from trying to achieve it all the same. Certainly, Mildryth insisted, Edith had no desire for her sons to be king. She’d watched the kingship infect her father with his fears and worries, and she wanted her children to never suffer such questioning of their abilities.

  Leofric, on the other hand, was in awe of Edmund. Completely. Ever since he’d visited Leofwine’s hall and spoken to him of his intentions, Leofric had done all he could to find out as much information as possible about the prince. He was even asking for a sword and shield similar to the prince’s and Leofwine laughed at his son’s folly, hoping it didn’t mask a tendency to follow unthinkingly where a figure of authority led.

  Oscetel believed that Cnut should be king, as did Horic and his sons. All of them believed that a strong Danish king was what England needed. With a strong English king the bloody Danish would cease their attacks, and if the Danish king also controlled much of Norway and Sweden, then it was to be hoped that they would be powerful enough to deter any other would-be raiders.

  Then there’d just be the Scots and the Welsh and the Irish to contest with. Leofwine thought that Æthelred was lucky that the king of both the Scots and the kings of the Welsh were in too dire a position to take advantage of the weakened England.

  Leofwine had yet to decide. He saw the possibilities and the problems but no real solution, not while men fought and bickered and changed their allegiance with the wind, not even being as steadfast as the English weather.

  Finally, and only as the weather was starting to improve and the days stretch a little at either end, a messenger arrived whom Leofwine had been expecting but was surprised to see all the same. It was Erik, one of Cnut’s closest advisors, in some disguise as a trader. He was wind chapped and exhilarated all at the same time. He strode into Leofwine’s hall as a man come to conquer and immediately Leofwine was wary of what the man wanted and why Cnut would make the decision to send him during such a difficult time of the year.

  Erik was a typical Norseman, blond, square-shouldered, with hair tied in intricate braids and enveloped in more animal fur than Leofwine thought even a huge bear would need to get through the harsh winter. He spoke English after a fashion, but his speech was more correctly interpreted as a spattering of English with mainly his tongue. Luckily for him, everyone within the hall was used to Horic and his family and their occasional heated arguments that lapsed into Scandinavian, and they could understand him well enough.

  Neither did he come alone, but with a ship suitably filled with furs to trade and thought his attempt at stealth humorous which only added to the danger that he placed everyone in. Leofwine was worried that the king would hear of his arrival but reasoned that he could convince the king of his innocence because he truly was innocent of anything but an oath to a dying man.

  On a crisp winter morning, Eric strode into Leofwine’s hall, full of cheer and news and Cnut’s intentions, and, as was to be expected, and demands of how Leofwine could help.

  “My Lord Leofwine,” he boomed in his loud voice, shedding furs as he stepped ever closer to the blazing fire, and leaving them for either one of his men, or one of the servants to pick up and retrieve. He smelt of the cold and the sea, and it was not welcome in the stifling heat of his home, but Leofwine, jumping to his feet, extended his arm to greet his unlooked-for guest.

  “My Lord Erik,” he responded, only for Erik to laugh at him.

  “I’m no Lord,” he intoned, “I’ve been a regent and am related to the royal family of Denmark, but I think of myself as a Viking.”

  Leofwine grinned at the Viking’s easy-going nature. He’d not met him before, but that didn’t mean he’d never heard of the man who’d been a partner in the death of his old friend Olaf of Norway. Erik had been Swein’s man, through and through, regent for him in Norway and married into his family. Erik was as much a Lord as he was and he knew it and was comfortable with it.

  “What brings you to England?” he asked, and then in the same breath, he asked for news of Cnut.

  “Cnut is well, a little bruised and battered but nothing more. He was angry, but now he turns that desire for vengeance back on Æthelred, Thorkell and cunning Olaf. Believe me when I say they’ll all be dead at Cnut’s hands if he has a choice.”

  “And his wife? You’ve come to retrieve her and the boy?”

  “Ah, so she has given birth to her promised son, has she? No, my Lord, I’m come with no intention to take her back to her husband. He’s adamant that he’ll see her when he reclaims England for himself and not before.”

  Leofwine winced at the news, just a little, but Erik noticed, and he laughed again and slapped his hand on the wooden table before them, even then being piled high with food for Erik and the few windswept men who’d accompanied him.

  “Yes, the desire to see a child will make a man a little irrational, a little crazy, but, he wants his throne back, and he'll use Ælfgifu and the baby, a son you say? He’ll be pleased. It’s the excuse he needs to raise his ship-army and conquer England. There’s not a single man who would not attack another for the sake of his family, and of course, a little treasure never goes astray either.”

  “So when does he plan to attack?”

  “Ah, I see you accept that easily, but then, you too had to survive against great odds to return to your family, and I know you’ll understand how he feels. But to go back to battle and attack. He had hopes that you’d tell me of Æthelred’s death first and then he’d not need to attack, but clearly, there’s no such good news to return and tell him. Not to fear, he has other ideas too, and they don’t all involve you, although he would like you to know he still thinks of you as his friend despite what happened in London.”

  Leofwine swallowed a little nervously around that sentence. He’d parted on good terms with Cnut, or at least he’d hoped he had. Cnut had agreed that the situation was difficult, he’d also decided that the one already given to Æthelred had superseded Leofwine’s oath to his father. But, Leofwine had worried that Cnut might forget that in his anger at being exiled from England. It was a relief to know that he hadn’t, and that he seemed magnanimous in his defeat. At least for now.

  When he’d put ashore the hostages who’d been given to him, devoid of hands and noses and ears, a ripple of unease had marred the king’s seemingly triumphant return to England and ousting of Cnut, and Leofwine had recognised it for what it was, an attempt to exact some petty revenge. The brutality had shocked and sickened him, as some of the hostages had been so young. Some had not survived their defacement, and those that had would never show their faces in public again. He’d ruined their lives and they’d not even been hostages given by King Æthelred!

  “And will you share those plans?”

  Erik grinned again, wiping his beard clean from the food he’d been liberally emptying into his mouth and swallowing almost without chewing.

  “I might well my Lord Leofwine, but I need some … reassurances for Cnut.”

  Leofwine thought to himself that he was sure he did but allowed Er
ik to control the conversation.

  “Cnut wonders if Æthelred has managed to pay Thorkell and his men?”

  “He has Eric, yes, and a hefty fee it was too.”

  “Ah,” he said as he thought out loud, “that’s a pity. Cnut had hoped to buy back Thorkell’s loyalty. He didn’t expect your king to have the clout to gather the geld that Thorkell would have demanded.”

  Leofwine didn’t comment, there was no need, and it made him think once more that he was right not to trust Thorkell or Olaf and their individual wants which always came before England’s. He wondered what it would be like to have to think of nothing but your own needs. It might prove a little liberating.

  “And Eadric. He’s back in the king’s good graces?”

  “Oh yes,” Leofwine said a little sourly. “He and the king are close once more. Too close if you ask me, but then, Eadric and I have never seen eye to eye.”

  Unconsciously Erik’s own eyes glanced at Leofwine’s damaged eye before flicking away. Leofwine often wondered how he was thought about by the men who were in some way responsible for his injury, or who accounted themselves allies of the man who had. Not that it kept him awake at night, but he wondered if his very resilience, a quality apparently greatly admired in the men from the northern lands, was why he was accorded more respect than many others.

  “Hum,” Erik said again, he was clearly thinking and deciding how best to carry the conversation forward. Leofwine wondered just how many different scenarios Cnut had devised for taking back England. It made him realise just how much of his future he’d staked on that event happening and sooner rather than later.

  “And the king is well? You say.”

  Leofwine chuckled at that as he drank from his drinking cup.

  “The king is well, but ageing. His wife is young and tries to keep him young but fails. He dotes on his younger sons and seems not to care that his eldest, Athelstan, is in his grave. Thorkell keeps his fleet at Sandwich or London, and Eadric and the king are as close as two men can be. What is it you want to know?”

  Erik slapped the table once more, his eyes dancing with intelligence.

  “Cnut said I would enjoy speaking with you. I thought he was just trying to make the trip seem more appealing, but he’s right. You see much more than you think you do with only one eye. It’s as if you can see into my thoughts.”

  Leofwine waited to see if Erik would say more, and was rewarded for his patience.

  “Cnut wishes to know what you think he should do, and if you'll support him? If you won’t will he at least have your silence until he's king, at which point he'll reward you as he sees fit?”

  Leofwine almost choked on his drink at hearing such a flagrant request to commit treason against his king. Erik knocked him on the back until he finished coughing and finally the smile left his face.

  “Already you see your predicament. I told Cnut as much. A man as honourable as he implied you were would not wish to get involved in this.”

  “It leaves me with a sour taste in my mouth. That’s true. Swein, and I assume Cnut now, reward loyalty and honour in their men and hate those men who do not hold true to their oaths and their commended men. You need only see how Swein treated Eadric to know that. I can’t with all good conscious undermine my king while he's still my king, and Cnut knows that already.”

  “He does yes, but I think he had a little hope that you would feel more bound to him than Æthelred.”

  “I’m bound to my king, and that’s the king I have at the moment. Æthelred has always been my king, apart from when Swein claimed the throne, and I’ve been loyal for many, many years. The throne and the crown are an institution, greater than one man.”

  Erik nodded solemnly to hear the words, as though he was almost relieved to hear them rather than surprised.

  “I think much as you do my Lord Leofwine. Many do not. They play all the sides to their best advantage, but not you. Never you. But still, he was insistent. Would you support him if he came?”

  Leofwine leant forward then, looking at his family, his home, his oldest son, his grandchildren playing by the fire, his hound dozing at his feet and he wondered if he could answer the question in any way honestly. If he looked in his heart, he knew he wanted Cnut as his king, but he’d not spoken lightly when he said the throne was an institution. It was bigger than just one man and Cnut needed to realise that.

  “My loyalty is to the throne and the crown. Whoever is king will have my utmost support and the support of my family. We’ll do all we can to add to the honour of the king’s reign, but we’ll also protect ourselves. We’re not fools. We know that bad decisions can be made and that a single king is as much a man as I am, prone to mistakes and errors. But, I made an oath to Æthelred to see him restored, and then I made an oath to Swein to help Cnut gain the throne. I’ve kept my first oath, and as yet my second oath has not come to pass, but neither have I given an oath elsewhere regarding my loyalty. Tell Cnut that and only that, and have him think what he should.”

  Respect at those words flashed across Erik’s face, and he gave himself time to absorb them before he spoke again.

  “Cnut will be pleased to hear those words, and I’ll repeat them faithfully. And now, to more pleasant things. I have a man who tells the most fantastical stories, and he can entertain us while we speak of less pressing things and while you acquaint me with your wife and children. I have many children and more than one wife, and they can be pesky things. I see you have order in your house and I’m a little jealous. Tell me how you do it?”

  Leofwine grinned with delight at the snowdrift of backhanded compliments he was being handed and was drawn into a relaxing evening with the unwelcome guest from the northern lands. He hoped he’d spoken as he should and made the decisions that were best for his family. He knew the peace he craved was a long way from returning to England, and on the next day, he set his household troops to training once more and informed his older sons and his wife of the conversation he’d shared with Erik. There were some concern and some outrage at Cnut’s presumptions, but there was just a shared knowledge that the time they’d spent together during the dark days might well come to an abrupt end at any moment.

  It made them all enjoy their time together that little bit more, grabbing each day as though it could be their last.

  Chapter 21

  AD1015

  Northman

  The better weather came slowly but steadily and still dodging messengers from Eadric, now coming from wherever the king was residing, Northman took the opportunity to hunt and train with his father’s men and those who formed his brother’s slowly growing band of household troops. Leofric didn’t yet have his own household and so didn’t need his own warriors, but their father always had his eye on the future, and so Leofric trained with four youths who would form the core of his household troops. When the time came.

  Northman didn’t miss his own men for in effect all of them, apart from Olaf had been chosen by Eadric, more than likely to keep an eye on him and for no other reason. They were good warriors, and Northman could rely on them in a fight, but that was more because they didn’t want to lose their lives for Eadric, not because they respected him.

  They were hunting in the woods near to Deerhurst when sounds of horsemen approaching caught Northman’s ears and he made his way carefully through the burgeoning undergrowth to see who was near. He was surprised when he recognised the king’s son. Godwine had followed him when he heard the noise and without words, he turned his back and disappeared back into the wooded canopy to find their father.

  Edmund was wearing a deep black fur cloak, swung half around his shoulders and half over his horse, and his expression was grim.

  “Your mother directed me this way,” he offered by way of an explanation and Northman nodded in understanding.

  “You’re well my Lord?” he enquired, knowing already that the answer would be negative but asking it all the same.

  “I’m well, but I’m troubled, i
f you can understand that. I must speak with your father, and although I understand how much more convivial it must have been to spend the winter with your wife and family, I fear that Eadric has spent the time plotting with the king.”

  Northman stiffened a little at the mild rebuke but didn’t lash out. After all, it had only been a mild rebuke and Edmund wasn’t angry, only concerned.

  “What do you think he intends to do?”

  Edmund shook his head unhappily.

  “Wait for your father to join us, and then I need only explain once.”

  Lapsing briefly into silence, Northman calmed his restive horse with a slap on the neck and remembered whom he was addressing.

  “My apologies my Lord, do you need food or mead?”

  Edmund shook his head absentmindedly.

  “No, and thank your mother, she offered me the same but I fear I was a little abrupt. Speed may well be essential.”

  They lapsed into an almost comfortable silence as they waited, the cries of the hunters and those seeking the hunters reaching their ears. It seemed to take a long while for Leofwine to appear from amongst the trees and when he did he was apologetic and amused in equal measure, until he saw Edmund.

  “My apologies, My Lord,” he said, formerly, and Northman swung his gaze back to Edmund in an effort to decipher what his father had seen in the man’s face that he hadn’t.

  “No apologies are needed Leofwine, but I do come on urgent business. Northman here was keen to hear but it’s better if I only have to explain once.”

  “Of course it is Edmund. I was almost out the other side of the wood when I was recalled by Godwine and Leofric.”