Viking King

by M J Porter

  Leofric nodded, sipping deeply of his own wine. What then, did all this mean?

  “Come, we’ll walk outside. It’s a bright day. I would welcome the change of air.”

  Abruptly, Lady Emma stood, leaving Leofric with no option but to follow her. She wound her way to the door, waiting for it to be opened by the door warden. She called for her cloak with a grimace of distaste at the view that greeted her.

  The sun might well be shining, but it had rained heavily during the night, and a cold wind blew. Leofric would rather have stayed indoors but appreciated Lady Emma may have secrets to share with him.

  Leofric too called for his cloak, and together they stepped through the doorway and into the busy forecourt.

  Lady Emma was not high in the king’s estimations, but her dower lands in Winchester had been restored to her, once more, and she was wealthy, if unwanted. Leofric tried not to feel any sympathy toward her but found it impossible.

  Banished under King Harald, and ignored under King Harthacnut, Leofric was sure this was not the life she’d imagined when her second husband had died.

  “Come, there’s a pleasant path this way,” Lady Emma indicated the way she wished to go, and Leofric slowed his steps to match her own and then walked alongside her. For a moment, they were silent, and Leofric took the opportunity to assess Lady Emma’s property.

  He’d not often visited the house in Winchester that had become Emma’s when she’d married King Æthelred. Then, she’d spent most of her time close to the king, and he had done the same. The hub of the king’s court had been at Winchester palace, and so it had remained under Cnut. It was only since Cnut’s death that there had been so much confusion.

  And then Lady Emma began to speak, snapping him back to the current conversation.

  “I’ve no allies in Denmark, but Lady Estrid did see fit to inform me that Harthacnut has never fathered a child, on anyone. She said he’s not been lax in his attempts to do so, even if he has no formal wife. I fear the king incapable of having a child. It saddens me, and yet I must push him to make provision for the future, in light of his strange illness.”

  “And have you done so?”

  “The king refuses to see me, other than for ceremonial gatherings, and so that I can add my names to his charters, to offer an added layer of legitimacy. When I’m invited to such gatherings, he seats me beside him but won’t speak to me of anything other than the food or the weather. Occasionally he speaks of his father, and on one or two instances, Denmark. Harthacnut has only the memories of his father that others have shared with him. He has this image of King Cnut as a masterful warrior, skilled king, and terrible father and husband. His opinion of me is a little better.”

  “He blames you for being sent away to Denmark when he was so young?”

  Lady Emma stopped and turned to face Leofric.

  “Harthacnut blames me for everything not to his liking. It’s my fault that King Harald was crowned as king and my fault that Earl Godwine captured his half-brother and allowed him to be killed. And it’s my fault that he’s ill. I’m to be blamed for every misfortune in my son’s life.”

  Leofric was startled at the bitterness in Lady Emma’s voice, although he realised he shouldn’t be. Lady Emma was used to being a queen and ruler, no doubt she criticised her son just as much as he condemned her for the current predicament.

  “So, what of the future?”

  “Lord Leofric, I only have one other son left, and he hates me as much as Harthacnut. I hardly think to care what happens after I’m dead.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Leofric spoke roughly, shaken by Lady Emma’s defeatism and her talk of death. He might acknowledge that the pair of them was old, but his father had lived a long life, and Leofric had every intention of doing the same.

  “You may believe what you wish. I know the truth of the matter, and I understand better than you who Harthacnut truly is. My place in politics is over. I’m lucky to have what I do, and I must settle for that.” She held up her hands to indicate their surroundings.

  Leofric laughed. He couldn’t help himself. He’d never heard such an enormous lie pour from Lady Emma’s lips before.

  She arched an eyebrow at him, the challenge evident to see.

  “I know you, Lady Emma. I’ve known you for a long time. You’ve taken gambles that no one else would, and you’ve been bitterly disappointed by both of your husbands. I can’t imagine you’ll let your sons do the same to you. So, tell me, what do you plan to do?”

  The lines around Lady Emma’s mouth wavered, and Leofric almost thought she would smile, but instead, she glowered at him.

  “I plan on doing nothing.”

  “So, you are in communication with Lord Edward, then?”

  “I’m not,” she denounced.

  “But you might be, soon?”

  “I will not,” she confirmed staunchly.

  “Then you’re trying to force Harthacnut to name an heir?”

  “I am not,” Lady Emma denied.

  “You will force him to marry?”

  “I will do no such thing.”

  Leofric’s mouth gaped open in astonishment.

  “You will truly do nothing?”

  “There is nothing I can do, Lord Leofric. I would only wish there were. But I’m nothing. In all the time that Harthacnut has ruled, only you have sought me out, and only now. Earl Godwine is a stranger to me, the poisonous bastard. Earl Siward never leaves Northumbria, and Earl Hrani and I have never thought highly of each other.”

  “What of the archbishops and bishops?” Leofric couldn’t help but press her for more information.

  “No one, Lord Leofric, will take the risk of Harthacnut knowing that I’ve made new allies. They’re all terrified of him, as you probably should be.”

  “But I’m not. I remember him as a child. He was spoilt and could be mean, but it’s rare for a man to retain those characteristics. I’d thought him merely unsure of himself. Until now.”

  “Then you accord him too much. Harthacnut means no good for England. I’m merely surprised that he’s stayed here so long. I’d expected him to return to Denmark as soon as possible.”

  “Only he can’t because he has no one to rule in his place. Not even his mother.”

  “Precisely,” Lady Emma confirmed without rancour. “At least in Denmark, Harthacnut can rely on his Aunt Estrid and his cousin, Svein, to keep the kingdom safe.”

  “Then what would you suggest?”

  Now Lady Emma laughed, the rich sound seeming to amaze even herself.

  “Really, after all I’ve said you would still ask my opinion?”

  “I would always ask your opinion,” Leofric confirmed. “I don’t have to like it, but I would sooner have it, all the same.”

  “Then I would advise you to be wary and to be careful. Harthacnut is not a man who thinks twice about ridding himself of an enemy, even if he happens to be dead.” Leofric knew then that Lady Emma spoke of King Harald. But there was a question in her voice, and she observed Leofric.

  Leofric shrugged a shoulder.

  “He was my foster-son. What did you expect me to do? Leave him for the fishes and the eels.”

  Understanding softened Lady Emma’s face.

  “You’ve always been too good for your kings,” she offered perceptively. Lady Emma linked her arm through Leofric’s as though they strolled beside the river on a summer’s day, and didn’t discuss such important matters.

  “Your father was an angel to abide by King Æthelred, and then Cnut, especially when he executed your brother. And now you find yourself in no better situation. I would pity you, but I shan’t. I know you think you’d like a simpler life, but this challenge is what makes you wake each morning filled with the joy of life. Never lose that, Lord Leofric, no matter what the future holds.”

  The words were hardly reassuring, and yet they warmed Leofric all the same.

  King Harthacnut might not appreciate his particular brand of loyalty and honou
r, but it was the way he’d chosen to live his life, and he could not change it. No matter what.

  It seemed though, that the problem of Harthacnut’s successor, should the worse befall him, was not only plaguing Leofric but also Earl Godwine.

  When the witan next convened in Winchester, a handful of days after Leofric’s visit to Lady Emma, it was Earl Godwine who raised the problem. Lord Godwine was still far from popular with the king, but he remained persistent. When the king called for other business to be discussed after the tedious matter of the delayed geld had been talked to death, Godwine stood. Leofric had done his best to get the king to lower his demands for payment, but Harthacnut was proving belligerent.

  While Leofric had already forwarded the full amount of the geld from his properties, something of a loan to the king, Harthacnut was determined that he would receive payment directly from the people of England to enable him to reimburse Leofric. The king wouldn’t countenance the geld remaining unpaid, and it was evident that close checks were being made to ensure everyone paid what was due.

  Leofric wished he could grab hold of the sheath of parchments that Lord Beorn regularly consulted, and burn them. That way, it would be impossible to know who had and hadn’t paid, and the king would be forced to either start all over again or end the geld payments.

  “My Lord King,” already Harthacnut’s young face was curdled in dislike as he was forced to listen to Lord Godwine’s whining voice. His gaze, although as bland as ever, was becoming easier for Leofric to interpret. It showed in the flicker of his eyes, and the slight line that formed across his forehead when testing his patience.

  Leofric wondered how many others had taken the time to learn such tells? He couldn’t imagine Earl Godwine had.

  “Lord Godwine, you may speak,” the king confirmed after a lengthy delay. Godwine bowed his head in thanks but then paused, no doubt unsure of how to phrase whatever his request was. Perhaps Earl Godwine was learning something about his king, after all.

  Leofric took the time to examine the other earl.

  Godwine had been Leofric’s fellow earl for many long years. In all that time, Leofric thought he’d never seen Godwine dressed quite so pompously, or with more support surrounding him. For Godwine, although he stood alone, had three of his sons seated behind him; Sweyn, Harold and even young Tostig.

  The likeness between them all couldn’t be ignored. Yet, Leofric noted with enjoyment that Godwine’s dark beard had begun to exhibit streaks of white, and his long black hair, always a point of pride, had begun to thin. With his sons to either side of him, he looked like the old bull with his replacements at his side, a stark reminder of how magnificent he might once have been.

  Leofric wondered what Godwine saw when he looked at him, but then dismissed the thought, distracted by Godwine’s words to the king as he finally began to speak.

  “As much as it pains me to discuss the issue, I believe that after a year of your kingship, and with no sign of a marriage in the future, that it’s time plans were formalised for the succession.”

  Leofric’s eyes swept from Godwine to his king, curious as to how Harthacnut would respond to such an open challenge. It was not quite treason to speak about the king’s death, but Harthacnut was so young it seemed a ludicrous statement to make, unless, of course, Lord Godwine knew what Leofric knew.

  Harthacnut was seated before his witan, his long fingers splayed over the arms of the wooden chair. His crown rested on his head, the embedded jewels, flickering in the light of the candles and the hearth. Lords Beorn and Otto shadowed the king. Harthacnut looked imperious. And Leofric thought Godwine a brave man to speak of the future when the king appeared to be so hale and hearty.

  “It’s the way of men to worry about the future. Be assured, I’ve been giving the matter a great deal of consideration myself. I’ve not been blessed with children, yet, but there is time yet.”

  Leofric turned away then, sure that the king was about to dismiss Godwine’s worries altogether.

  “But life is perilous, and I would safeguard the future, as you say. I’d meant to discuss this matter at a later date, but now seems an opportune time.”

  Harthacnut paused then, his eyes wavering over the assembled men and women, perhaps seeking out his particular favourites amongst the Danish, but certainly, his gaze skipped over Leofric, as though appraising him, before moving on to rest on Lord Siward.

  “With the agreement of the witan, I would recall Lord Edward from Normandy. I believe it’s time my brother and I grew to know each other better, and that he had some of his birthright restored to him.”

  A stunned silence filled the hall. Even Leofric felt his mouth drop open in amazement. This was most unexpected, even if it was the only solution to the problem of who would rule should the king drop dead from his secret malady.

  “Lord Edward?” It was Godwine who repeated the name, and Leofric took some small delight in seeing his face pale at the news. Lord Edward would have no love for Godwine, that was sure, even less than Harthacnut had.

  Lord Edward would think little of the other men of the witan who’d allowed his only full-brother to be mutilated at the hands of King Harald’s deranged uncle. But, and Leofric dampened down his hope, he had aided Lord Alfred, ensured his final days were as pain-free as possible. And he’d not done it to earn favour with anyone, but rather because it was the right thing to do.

  If he could have saved Lord Alfred from falling into Lord Godwine’s clutches, then he would have done, but he had been too late. Far too late, and a summer of searching for Lord Alfred had only shown how late he’d been.

  “Lord Edward is the natural son of my mother and the step-son of my father. He has the bloodline of the ruling family. Should I perish, he would be my preferred option to rule after me. I thought this would please the witan.” Harthacnut spoke the words with relish. Perhaps, he’d been hoping it would be Lord Godwine who asked the question, or maybe even waiting for him to do so. Wasn’t this the ultimate revenge on a man who dismayed him so much? Who the king had already taken so much from?

  If Lord Edward became king, there was no chance that Godwine would be able to restore his family’s position before his own death.

  “Lord Edward is a stranger to England,” Lord Godwine gasped.

  “Yes, but he need not be. I would have him at my side, we could rule together, as brothers should.” The criticism was impossible to ignore, and Leofric replayed his conversation with Lady Emma. Had she known this would happen? Had she suspected it was possible or had she spoken truthfully when she’d denied any knowledge of the future?

  Leofric took the opportunity to stand.

  “My Lord King, I would welcome the opportunity to know Lord Edward better.”

  “I imagine you would, Lord Leofric. But you have my thanks for your support, all the same.”

  It seemed that Harthacnut was content to flay everyone with his words.

  “And my support as well,” Earl Siward stood and added his own agreement. Only Lord Godwine looked furious. Leofric felt his forehead wrinkle.

  Who had Earl Godwine thought the king would announce as his likely successor? Surely not his cousins from Denmark? If Lord Edward was unknown, then Lord Svein and was merely a name to the English people. Beorn was highly respected by Harthacnut, and he relied on him to help him rule England. Still, Beorn had made no attempt to gather his own allies. He was entirely the king’s creature and made no effort to make his own allies.

  Leofric had been rebuffed more than once, and Beorn refused to countenance private discussions with Lord Godwine even though he was his wife’s nephew.

  “I believe that Lord Edward would have enjoyed the title of ætheling before my father became king.” Harthacnut directed the comment at his holy men, and it was Archbishop Eadsige who stood to reply, after a brief consultation with Archbishop Ælfric.

  “Indeed, My Lord King. Lord Edward was an ætheling before your father’s succession.”

  Leofric was lis
tening carefully. There was a subtle game at play here. All knew that Lord Edward was the son of King Æthelred and Lady Emma. That made him Harthacnut’s half-brother, or step-brother and meant that Cnut had no claim to him. In fact, he’d had the two sons from Lady Emma’s first marriage banished to Normandy, and Emma’s brother. Now, if Leofric understood what was happening, by implying he was King Cnut’s son, rather than King Æthelred’s, Harthacnut was willing to claim Lord Edward as his full brother.

  It was an interesting distinction to make.

  Did this mean that while Lord Edward had been the ætheling before King Cnut’s accession, that it was not that which genuinely made him eligible to be king, but rather the fact that Cnut was his father? Leofric thought furiously, but the king interrupted his thinking.

  “Then this is agreed?” Harthacnut asked, peering into the crowd. “I would send for my brother as soon as possible, and with all attendant honours, have him escorted to England. I would welcome him as my brother.”

  Now Harthacnut turned to Leofric, an inscrutable expression on his face.

  “Lord Leofric, I would ask you to travel to Normandy for me, to the court of my mother’s birth, and make my petition to Lord Edward. You’ve not met, I know, but he and you have a connection. I believe he would trust your word above others who serve me.”

  “My Lord King, I would be honoured to do your bidding.” Leofric knew he had no choice but to undertake his king’s request. But he didn’t believe the king made the offer through genuine affection for his half-brother, but rather because it was a further way of upsetting and dividing his earls.

  Leofric leaned back heavily in his chair, suddenly unwilling to enjoy the look of unease on Lord Godwine’s face.

  “The king honours you?” it was Earl Siward who posed the question, but Leofric detected something else in his voice. Of them all, Earl Siward was the most distant from the king. Yet, Leofric suddenly believed that wasn’t entirely the truth of their relationship.

  Why, Leofric considered, did his king want him far from England’s shore? What did the king have planned in his absence? The thought was unsettling but quickly dismissed. He couldn’t worry about it. There were other problems to consume him, not least of all, just what he would say to Lord Edward when he met him.