by M J Porter
Leofric’s relationship with Earl Siward had soured since the murder of Earl Eadwulf. Like so many of the earls and ealdormen he’d known in his life, Leofric was far from comfortable with men so ambitious they’d do anything no matter the morality of the task.
He hoped he never did the same but realised that in the past compromises had been made that shouldn’t have been.
“Leofric,” his wife’s voice held warning, and immediately, Leofric was recalled to where he was. And there was no need to ask his wife for more detail. Already four men had rushed to the king’s side, while the bride and Tovi had been pushed roughly aside. The bride was crying, Tovi trying to calm her, as Leofric leapt to his feet.
Surely the king had not imperilled his health just to attend a wedding? The conversation of the morning flashed back into Leofric’s mind. Had the king extracted the oath that day because he’d suspected his final illness was upon him? What had the seer told him all those years ago?
“What’s going on?” angry voices filled the air, and Leofric turned to meet his son’s gaze. Ælfgar nodded from across the vast space between them and rushed away. Leofric next looked for Lady Emma, unsurprised to find her trying to push her way to Harthacnut’s side.
He swallowed heavily.
“Make way,” Leofric strode through the mass of people all seeming to rush in opposite and opposing ways.
“Make way for the king’s mother.” Leofric moved to scoop up Lady Emma’s arm, while behind him, he caught sight of Ælfgar assisting his mother.
Immediately, a path opened up for Leofric, and he led Lady Emma forward. She gripped his arm with icy hands, her body shaking.
“What ails my son,” she whispered, but Leofric hardly heard her, as he finally saw the king.
Harthacnut had collapsed to the floor, his body seeming to shiver, with spittle flowing from his mouth.
“The king is grievously unwell,” Leofric stated, knowing it was no answer. Still, he led Lady Emma on, and through the men trying to shield Harthacnut. Osgot Clapa seemed to stand as though immobile, even his daughter’s shrieks not piercing his consciousness.
“Get the hall cleared,” Leofric barked at the wedding host. “No one should see the king in such a condition.”
As though recalled to what was happening, Osgot immediately started to issue commands. Lady Emma had made her way to Harthacnut’s side, and now she caught Leofric’s eye, her anguish almost too much for Leofric to absorb.
She knew how severe this attack was.
Lord Godwine shouldered his way forward, and Lord Edward followed in his wake.
“Harthacnut,” Lady Emma called to her son, her voice shrill with worry as she knelt beside him.
“My son, what ails you?” her words ended on a shriek, as abruptly Harthacnut lay unresponsive.
“Harthacnut,” Lady Emma called to him again, while the four Danish men who nursed Harthacnut looked on. They were calm. Perhaps it was always like this? Of them all, only Lord Beorn was doing anything, and his actions were to encourage Osgot to empty the hall.
But Harthacnut didn’t speak. No matter his mother’s increasingly frantic entreaties, he lay still. If not for the rising and falling of the king’s death, he might have been thought dead already.
“My Lady. Please, we’ll help the king. It’s best if he has rest, and sleep after one of his attacks.” It was Lord Beorn who spoke, the similarity between the king and his cousin prominent in the tone Beorn employed.
“This has happened before?” Lord Godwine demanded of Lord Beorn but received no answer. Leofric wished that Lord Godwine had been removed from the hall with everyone else. Already, he was causing problems as he tried to extract an answer from Beorn.
The scene was chaotic before them as Harthacnut’s men rushed to surround him, and Leofric used it to mask his lack of surprise.
After a few moments, he turned and noticed that few remained in Osgot’s hall, apart from his own family, and those of Earl Godwine and Siward. Even the bride was being led away, sobbing and casting fearful looks back at where the king lay on the wooden floor.
“My Lady,” it was Lord Edward who attempted to take control of the situation. “These men know what they’re doing. You must not embarrass yourself. Please.”
If his words were meant kindly, Lady Emma didn’t recognise it, and her face filled with fury.
“My son, the king, is ill, and I’ll stay by his side until he wakes.” Her tone was that of a queen, and even Lord Edward bowed at the instruction.
“That might take some time,” Lord Beorn commented, finally free from Lord Godwine. By now the Danish four men were ready at Harthacnut’s side, to lift him and escort him from the hall. Lord Beorn hovered at their side, and he spoke to Lady Emma once more.
“You can come with us. But the king may not wake, not for some time. It’s usual.” If the voice was meant to comfort, Leofric found it strangely lacking in empathy.
“I’ll come,” Lady Emma announced. When Lord Godwine made to follow, Lord Edward stepped into his path, recalled from his desire to follow his mother’s instructions.
“This is a family matter,” Lord Edward’s words were the harshest that Leofric had ever heard the king’s half-brother use. In other circumstances, he might have caught Lord Edward’s eye, given him a look of respect, but now was not that time.
Instead, he moved to walk away, leading his wife, his son and daughter by marriage.
“My Lord Leofric, a word first.”
Lord Edward’s voice commanded obedience.
“Wait for me outside. I won’t be long. I hope.”
As Leofric turned to make his way back toward Lord Edward, he caught the fury on Lord Godwine’s face at being so publicly excluded when Leofric wasn’t. Leofric quickly averted his gaze. He didn’t need to see the naked need of a man fearful of losing his influence.
“Lord Leofric,” Lord Edward’s voice dropped low when Leofric was in earshot. “You and your son can come to the king’s hall. I want you available to me until my half-brother is well again. I think we both know that this could be serious, and likewise, that the king feared it would kill him.”
Leofric bowed, unsure of the dubious honour, and yet unwilling to turn Lord Edward aside.
“Bring your wife. She can calm my Lady Mother. I don’t wish her meddling when it’s not needed.”
“Of course, My Lord. I’ll gather my family, and follow the procession. Then we’ll determine who is to spend the night, and who will come in the morning.”
“As you will. I leave the details to you. But, one of you must be there. Take that order as coming directly from the king himself.”
Without speaking further, Lord Edward turned aside, watching the men who cared for his brother. Leofric paused, just for a moment, curious as to what Lord Edward might be thinking. But his face was inscrutable, and Leofric hastily turned aside to retrieve his family.
Chapter 19
AD1042
Leofric
Harthacnut was laid on the raised dais, in the king’s hall in London that had once been Harald’s preferred residence. Although his un-moving body was in full view, admission in and out of the king’s hall was strictly controlled. Other than Lady Emma, Lord Edward, Lord Ralph, Leofric and his family, only servants and holy men were allowed admission, alongside Lords Beorn and Otto and the four Danish men who treated the king’s symptoms.
That first night, Leofric sent his son and Elgiva to sleep, while Lady Godgifu kept close to Lady Emma. Lord Edward sat aloof from everyone, gazing into the embers of the hearth, his thoughts on this development impossible to fathom.
The hush within the hall was oppressive, and Leofric almost felt his chest was too tight to breathe deeply enough.
Lady Emma sobbed softly, and when she wasn’t crying, she was sat beside Harthacnut, holding his hand and begging him to wake in the voice a mother would use to a newborn babe. It wrenched Leofric’s heart to hear her sorrow while knowing it was unlikely that Hart
hacnut would ever stir again.
Leofric’s thoughts were dark. He’d witnessed the death of too many kings in his years. Each and every one of them brought about some unintended consequence.
Men and women had lost a great deal on the death of a king, and equally, each change of regime had allowed other men and women to gain.
But, Leofric’s thoughts were darker than even that.
Harald had been a disappointment. Harthacnut had been a disaster. But what would Lord Edward be?
Lord Edward was thirty-seven years old, and had never married, or had children with a lover, as far as Leofric knew. Were they merely about to elect a new king who would be as incapable of furthering his dynasty as Harthacnut had been? Not since Æthelred’s days had the future seemed assured for the House of Wessex.
Were they just storing up the same problems for some distant day in the future where they would again have to consider who had the best claim to the crown of England?
Leofric thought of Harald’s young wife and her son. Would there be a time when he would need to swear that the child was truly Cnut’s grandson, with a right to rule?
Leofric rubbed his face in his hands.
As much as he’d dreamed of a time when Harthacnut wouldn’t be king of England, if he were honest with himself, the future was still bleak
And still Lady Emma sobbed.
It was evident she wanted her youngest son to live. Certainly, Leofric expected that Lord Edward would be even crueller to his mother than Harthacnut had been, if that was possible.
In the year that Lord Edward had been in England, he’d rarely been seen speaking to his mother. Leofric suspected that Lady Emma’s grand literary scheme was a means of winning back the support of her oldest son because she’d failed to win back that of her youngest. He couldn’t see it being a great success.
“My Lord,” it was Lord Beorn who tried to gain Leofric’s attention.
“Yes, sorry. What can I do for you?”
“I think you know, My Lord, that the king is unlikely to wake from his stupor. He was warned of what would happen. I don’t know how we move forward from this.”
Leofric sighed heavily, his gaze turning to where Lady Emma seemed to have fallen asleep with her head beside that of her son’s. It didn’t look comfortable, and yet Leofric wouldn’t order her moved. Besides her, Lady Godgifu slept as well, but in a more comfortable wooden backed chair, her cloak covering the front of her body, and warding off the cool summer night.
“I believe we must wait and see what happens.”
“But it might take some time, My Lord, for the illness to finally claim the king. In the meantime, I would have thought some action would be needed as there’ll be no one who truly rules England.”
Leofric startled at the words, turning to truly gaze at Beorn. It was easy to see the image of his grandfather in the younger man. Leofric hadn’t truly known King Swein well, but he’d seen him often enough. For a moment, he faltered, recalled to another night when he’d watch a king draw his last breaths. It recalled him to the practicalities of Harthacnut’s eventual death.
“I hadn’t realised that,” Leofric stated, his forehead furrowed in thought. “Thank you for warning me. I’ll share the news with the other earls come the morning. But let us hope that the king recovers.”
“I believe that to be false hope, but, as you will.” And with that, Lord Beorn left Leofric’s side, his harsh words showing no emotion at the impending death of his cousin. Only then did Lord Edward show any interest in the conversation he’d not been involved in.
Taking the place of Lord Beorn, at the table Leofric had settled next to, he looked questioningly at Leofric.
“Will he recover?” it was bluntly spoken. Perhaps Lord Edward was just as Danish as his half-brother and cousins?
“More than likely not, but neither will it be quick.” Leofric hadn’t meant to be as quite as blunt with Lord Edward, and he winced as he spoke. But Lord Edward merely nodded, a thoughtful expression on his lined face.
“It seems it might be the time for us to become allies, Lord Leofric, after all. I’m a stranger in England, and my brother didn’t even gift me with an earldom to learn the craft of ruling with. I’ll need continuity to secure my rule of England.”
Leofric nodded, schooling his face to betray none of his inner turmoil at talking of such when Harthacnut still lived.
“I served your father, and your mother, many times over, and your half-brothers, as you know.”
“And you were the only person who sought to help my brother. I’m aware of how much my family owes you, but also just how much your family owes mine. My father made your father an ealdorman. Without that action, none of this would have happened.” As he spoke, Lord Edward indicated the entire room, as though it was Leofric’s. Yet, Leofric knew he alluded to his family’s place in England.
“I’m well aware, My Lord. Tell me, do you plan to make such alliances with all of your earls?”
“Why?” Lord Edward asked, his eyes narrow with suspicion.
“I would simply know what your plans are, just as you ask me what my own are. You have a kingdom to win, but I have an earldom to lose.”
“And so do the other earls, if they cross me.”
“But you’ve just said you’re a stranger in England. Who would you promote in place of Siward, Godwine, or even myself? And what would you do with your disgruntled earls? I seem to remember my father telling me of a man who allied with the Danish when the king banished him from England.”
“Ah,” Lord Edward’s voice was filled with interest.
“Then you think I should replace you all?”
Leofric chuckled softly, but not maliciously. “I believe we might all find ourselves in a position where we’re all stuck with one another. But, there will be ways for each of us to benefit at the expense of the other.”
“Lord Godwine would like earldoms for all of his sons if you decided to rely on him. I have only one son, and Earl Siward has only one as well, for the time being. It might be that you wish to take a chance on being overrun by Godwine, or that you’d rather try and go against him, using Siward and me to bolster yourself. It could be intriguing,” Leofric confirmed, watching Lord Edward carefully to see if he could determine his intentions.
“I would sooner not be too closely allied with anyone, not yet, and not until I’m secure in my position.”
“Yes, but to be secure, you would need someone to secure it for you. After all, you are a stranger to England!”
Lord Edward smirked at the use of his own words against him.
“I’ve been unsure of my place in England since my return. I would never deny that. But, I’ve not been idle. I’ve been watching, and learning and my observations would surprise you, but they’re for me to know, and others to guess at.”
“I know that my brother has struck some sort of deal with you. I doubt I know what it is, but it’s not too difficult to guess, and so I’ll share my thoughts with you. With Earl Thuri’s death, and Hrani’s anticipated, my brother is left with three earls. Earl Siward has grown too powerful, Earl Godwine has grown too desperate, and then there is you, Earl Leofric. You’ve grown nothing, but silent.”
“You know far more than the others do, and you actually pay attention. I would sooner have an ally worth having than one who’ll be more of a liability, as I’ve said before.”
Leofric dipped his head low, absorbing the words. He couldn’t decide if it was a compliment or not.
But he did appreciate it for what it was. Lord Edward wanted him as an ally. That would surely only make it easier for him when he was forced to act on the oath that Harthacnut had dragged from him.
Chapter 20
AD1042
Leofric
Leofric rested his eyes on Lady Emma. She made a tragic figure.
Rarely in the last five days had she left Harthacnut’s side, and yet never in all that time had the king stirred. Lord Otto and his four men had stayed
close to the king as well as Lord Beorn, but Leofric was aware that they feared to be blamed. He could tell in the shifting looks and almost desperate glimpses at the guarded doorway.
Even now, Leofric was unsure if the rest of the highly favoured Danish people tended their king. They might have left already so that when the king took his final breath, they wouldn’t be there to witness it or be blamed for it, but would be on board a ship, bound for Denmark and Lord Svein, who would soon become king of Denmark.
Leofric was not alone in having access to the king, his mother and brother, but the two other earls had only been allowed to attend upon the king occasionally. Whenever Leofric left the hall, one or other of them would be there, demanding to know what was happening and if the king would wake.
Leofric had grown tired of his bleak answers. The end was coming, but when Harthacnut would actually breathe his last was not in his knowledge.
“Who will rule after Harthacnut?” It was Earl Siward who persisted in asking the question, time after time. There was a fervour about him that tested Leofric’s resolve to stay cordial.
“Lord Edward. The king made his intentions clear.”
“Well, he might have done, but Lord Edward has nothing to offer England. Bad enough a Viking King, think what will happen with a man who has no reputation at all to commend himself to either the English or her enemy’s.”
“The king has made his plans clear,” Leofric confirmed. He was aware that Lord Siward felt cheated by the king for allowing him to murder Earl Eadwulf, and then falling ill so soon afterwards. If the king died, or rather, when the king died, Lord Siward would have no one to shoulder the blame for him, and no one to protect him should the people of Bamburgh seek their revenge.
Perhaps, Leofric thought in moments of frustration, Lord Siward should have thought more before he acted, and at the least, known the king’s true intentions.
