by Chris Bishop
‘Alfred would not protect any Vikings still intent upon raiding Saxon settlements,’ I said.
Lord Werhard shrugged. ‘Yet still we suffer.’
‘Surely the fyrd could do more…’
He looked at me again. ‘Perhaps it suits them not to fully engage with the raiders.’
‘Do you mean the fyrd is afraid to fight them?’
He shook his head. ‘No not afraid. But I sometimes wonder whether it suits them to look the other way.’
Suddenly I realised what he was saying. ‘You cannot mean that the fyrd is—’ I stopped myself from saying more, for if what he meant was that the fyrd was profiting from the raids in some way that was a very serious prospect indeed, something he, as Ealdorman, was obliged to ensure didn’t happen. No wonder he was reluctant to speak of it directly in front of Oeric if it was he who commanded the fyrd in Lord Werhard’s stead.
He seemed to sense what I was thinking. ‘My son has many qualities,’ he said. ‘But he’s greedy for silver and power. I quell those faults as best I can but I’m old and will not be here much longer to do so. I fear for the good people of this Shire when I’m gone.’
‘But he’s your son! Surely you…?’
‘Not by birth. He’s a changeling who came to me by marriage to my wife whom I loved more dearly than life itself but who sadly passed away some years ago.’
That explained why he’d not been named after Werhard. ‘So, who was his father?’ I asked.
Lord Werhard looked at me mournfully. ‘My wife was lowly born and he was conceived following a raid in which she was raped and abused. His blood may be that of any number of heathens. Who can say?’
I thought for a moment of what that meant, recognising that in taking Emelda to wife I would also be marrying beneath my station. Also, having been forced to become a whore, if by chance she was with child I would have to accept the risk that I might not be the father. It was a reminder of Lord Alfred’s misgivings about the match, all of which I began to see were not without good cause. With that Lord Werhard rose to leave.
‘I tell you this because I knew your father and because someone outside these walls should know,’ he said. Then he changed the subject. ‘No doubt you will wish to leave long before my old bones can stir themselves on the morrow. I wish you God speed, Matthew, and a safe journey. Pray give my best regards to Lord Alfred. Tell him the way of things here in Leatherhead. I know it will be of concern to him.’
* * * * *
As planned, I left early the next morning accompanied by four men, all of them armed. We carried what we would need for the journey on a sixth horse which was laden with cooked meat and some salted fish, plus various utensils and a bow.
The journey was without too much risk as there were few robbers who would attack an armed band and the Harroway was as safe a route as could be devised given that it was so well used by travellers and merchants. Viking raiders remained a threat but even they would think twice about revealing themselves by engaging a group who were all mounted and thus able to ride away from trouble.
Although it rained for the next two days we made good progress and arrived at Winchester sooner than expected.
Chapter Seventeen
The settlement at Winchester was even bigger than that at Chippenham and not much smaller than the Saxon and Viking settlements at London combined. We approached by crossing a narrow bridge across the river then entered via a gate which formed part of the old Roman walls. Beyond that was a large open square where a market had been established with more stalls than I could count. The place was alive with people and everywhere I looked there seemed to be works underway with teams of men repairing and reinforcing the old Roman fortifications.
Alfred had established his court within the bounds of his Vill close to the centre of the settlement and, as we approached the inner gates, I was not surprised to find that none of the men on duty knew me. Nonetheless, they seemed to recognise Lord Werhard’s banner so after a few brief words, let us pass. As we dismounted a man came across to greet us.
‘I am Matthew christened Edward, son of the late Lord Edwulf,’ I said. ‘You will have received word of my coming and I must speak with Lord Alfred at once.’
It seemed I was indeed expected, Lord Werhard having despatched a rider the night before we left. Therefore the man bowed respectfully then turned to lead the way.
‘Will you ensure my escort are well looked after?’ I asked, then thanked them for their service before being hurried away towards where I was told Alfred was waiting, anxious to see me.
The Vill itself was well protected and fully enclosed with a tall fence. Apart from the usual lodgings and outbuildings, it included a fine stone minster but was dominated by the Great Hall itself, a magnificent building big enough for at least a hundred men to assemble, possibly more. It had two huge carved oak doors to the front, framed by a covered porch and guarded by two armed men, both of whom moved to bar my path even as I mounted the steps. The man who accompanied me spoke to them and I was allowed to pass, though once again I was relieved of my sword before being allowed to enter the Great Hall itself. Even once inside there were more guards and a good many other people who presumably had business with their liege. I recognised one of them at once.
‘My Lord Ethelnorth,’ I said, half bowing to acknowledge his seniority. Ethelnorth brushed all that aside as he embraced me.
‘Matthew it’s good to have you back,’ he beamed. ‘Though a little the worse for wear by the looks of it.’
‘I’m well enough,’ I said. ‘Though it’s true that my journey has been both long and arduous.’
With that Alfred himself realised it was me and, ignoring others, summoned us both over to where he was seated at a huge table on which many plans and drawings had been unrolled. Once again my attempts at homage were ignored. ‘It’s good to see you safe and have you back with us,’ said Lord Alfred. ‘Now come, both of you. There is much to discuss but we must speak in private. And Matthew, I would hear of your adventures.’
It seemed a warm greeting from two such important men, but it allowed me no time to prepare myself or rehearse what was going to be a very long story. It seemed not to matter at the time but, looking back on it, to respect my proposed new role as a courtier and adviser I should have been ready to give a more concise and reasoned report. As it was, many of those who had waited patiently for an audience with Alfred looked dismayed as a bedraggled boy seemed to warrant their King’s immediate attention. He dismissed them all and led Lord Ethelnorth and me to a small private chamber. As we entered he motioned to the guards to stand beyond the door and ensure that we were not disturbed. Others were told to bring me food and mead, plus a basin of water so I could wash and refresh myself.
‘You’ve grown since last we saw you,’ said Alfred, standing back and looking me over. ‘You’re no longer a boy and remind me of your brother when he was about your age – though I’m bound to say that you don’t look much like a young man of noble birth!’
‘Sire, I have endured much on my travels and have not yet had time to…’
Alfred laughed good naturedly. ‘It’s good to have you back in whatever state you’re in. We feared you’d been slain or taken when we found what remained of your escort but no sign of either you or that boy you adopted as your brother.’
‘I fear I did not acquit myself well in that,’ I confessed. ‘Because of bad weather we needed to make better time in order to reach Exeter before you, so I took a short cut through the forest where we were ambushed by Vikings who sought to free the boy. It transpires he’s the son of a great Viking warrior – the man my brother Edwin tortured and then killed.’
Alfred reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. ‘It’s all part of the heavy burden of command,’ he said consolingly. ‘You carry no blame for the loss of your escort though we all of us feel the pain of it when something like that happens.’
‘Yet the responsibility rests with me,’ I acknowledged.
Given how many men had died on my account it was reassuring to hear him say that and, in truth, having learned of Arne’s treachery, I had begun to accept that there was nothing more I could have done except perhaps to have taken the longer route and thereby avoided the forest.
‘So how did you survive?’ asked Lord Ethelnorth.
‘I was the first to fall my Lord. I was wounded by an arrow to my chest and then left for dead. There is much I need to tell you of what transpired after that and which I would now report if you have the time.’
‘Go on,’ said Alfred.
Hardly knowing where to begin, I told them first about Hakon and the forces he was gathering on the southern bank of the river at London because I deemed that to be of most immediate concern.
‘How many men did you see there?’ he asked, looking worried.
‘At least two hundred warriors,’ I said, guessing at their number. ‘Possibly more. Not as many as were at Chippenham when I went to spy on Guthrum but still a sizeable force. What’s more they’re building ships which may mean they’re planning an invasion, perhaps even along the southern coast of Wessex.’
Lord Ethelnorth shook his head woefully. ‘Surely we don’t have to fight the bastards again? God knows we beat them soundly enough at Edington!’
‘An army of two or even three hundred men is no longer big enough to cause us immediate concern,’ reasoned Alfred.
‘No, but others may yet join them!’ warned Ethelnorth. ‘Sire, you should have put them all to the sword when you had the chance. Their lust for blood knows no bounds therefore you can ill afford to allow them any latitude.’
Alfred raised his hand. ‘Yet Guthrum has so far kept his word. And we’ve had no reports of the movement of any large numbers of men who might join with them.’
‘But Sire, they’re commanded by a warlord named Hakon, not Lord Guthrum,’ I warned. ‘He was present when I went to spy on Guthrum’s camp that day. He was the third man I told you about, the one who sat with Guthrum and Ubba.’
Ethelnorth was clearly worried. ‘We have to send an army if only as a show of strength to deter them,’ he reasoned.
Alfred considered all this then shook his head. ‘No, that would be a clear sign to suggest that I don’t trust Lord Guthrum. My negotiations with him are not yet fully agreed and I dare not risk upsetting them at this crucial stage as that still remains our best hope for peace.’
‘Pah! When Hakon and his horde start forming up their battle lines your precious treaty won’t be worth shit! What’s more, you’ll need to send an even bigger army then!’ warned Ethelnorth.
‘Hakon has a large force, I grant you,’ said Alfred. ‘But as I say, from what Matthew has told us and from other reports I’ve received, it’s not yet an army. We’ll send men to watch the camp and keep us advised in case their numbers grow or they move as if to attack, but I’m in no fit state to fight again so soon if it can be avoided – our men have already spent too long away from their homes and farmsteads. They need time to restore their lives and to gather in the harvest before the winter is upon us.’
‘So what will you do?’ I asked.
‘Watch and wait,’ said Alfred. ‘We must also ensure that all the Ealdormen are warned so they can prepare to defend their Shires.’
I couldn’t help but laugh.
‘What’s the matter, Matthew?’ asked Alfred.
‘Sire, I’ve met one of the local Ealdormen and I fear that fighting is not something he has in mind.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, Sire, that I stayed at Lord Werhard’s Vill at Leatherhead for a night and was shocked at what I saw there.’
‘Lord Werhard is a good and trusted man who has always served me well,’ observed Alfred.
‘‘That’s as may be, Sire, but he’s now old and frail. His stepson Oeric rules the Shire in his place.’
‘What? Is he appointed Reeve?’
‘Not in name. But by inclination something much more. Indeed, he rules as though he’s already Ealdorman in Lord Werhard’s place.’
‘Does he by God!’ said Alfred angrily. ‘He has no right except with my consent. This is treachery indeed!’
‘Sire, it cuts even deeper than that,’ I said, hardly daring to voice my concerns about all I’d seen there. ‘I believe Lord Werhard was trying to warn me that all is not well within his Shire. Being at the very edge of your realm it suffers many raids yet the fyrd cannot seem to prevent them. I suspect that it’s ill trained and poorly armed. What’s more, it isn’t mustered on a regular basis and—’
‘What are you saying Matthew?’ demanded Alfred.
‘Sire, I fear the raids are carried out to secure enough provisions for Hakon’s men. The fact that they venture so far to carry them out suggests they find it easier to raid and pillage there rather than closer to their camp.’
‘You mean they don’t shit on their own threshold?’ said Ethelnorth.
‘Exactly. Their presence is tolerated in London and the surrounding settlements and rather than disturb that they carry out their raids further south.’
‘Then why does the fyrd not stop them?’ asked Alfred.
‘That’s the point my Lord. Anyone else would have ensured that the fyrd is at full strength and fully armed, but not Oeric.’
Alfred and Ethelnorth both considered the point then suddenly realised what I was suggesting.
‘Are you implying that they profit from the raids?’ asked Alfred.
‘Perhaps my Lord. Or at the very least that it suits them not to intervene. Though I cannot say whether they claim a share of any booty or benefit in other ways.’
‘Matthew, that’s a very serious accusation.’
‘But Sire, not one which I make without good cause. Lord Werhard himself implied as much and besides, he and his stepson live safe and well in a Hall almost as grand as this yet it’s without fortifications, nor is it fully guarded. Despite this it seems not to have suffered any raids whilst the people in the outlying settlements endure them repeatedly. What other conclusion can you draw?’
Alfred looked shocked. ‘It remains the responsibility of all the Ealdormen to protect their people,’ he stormed. ‘Not screw every ounce of worth from their already diminished lives simply to fill their own coffers! We’ll have to find a way to remind Lord Werhard and his son of their duty.’
‘Agreed,’ said Ethelnorth. ‘But first we have to deal with Hakon. That’s the most immediate concern.’
‘I’m meeting Guthrum soon to further discuss the treaty,’ said Alfred. ‘I’ll raise the matter with him then.’
‘Then this treaty of yours had better be good,’ warned Ethelnorth.
‘What does it say?’ I asked, not sure whether I had the right to ask.
‘I’m discussing a plan with Guthrum whereby he’ll take his men north, drawing a line beyond which he will not raid or attack, thus leaving Wessex in peace. All I’m doing is offering not to intervene in his affairs there provided his people live within their bounds and in peace.’
‘And you trust him to honour such a truce?’ queried Ethelnorth.
‘I’ve no cause not to. Besides, at the very least it will give me time to secure my realm.’
‘It’s madness!’ said Ethelnorth. ‘Like I say, they’re treacherous bastards; you can’t believe a word they say!’
‘Perhaps,’ said Alfred. ‘But the lands I’m ceding to him are those beyond Wessex which he already controls in one way or another. He’ll distribute these to the men who have served him and that may well include some of those camped with Jarl Hakon. They’ll then protect those lands for us, serving as a barrier against others who might invade Wessex. To save what they’ve been given they’ll fight beside us, not against us, and thereby strengthen our position.’
Lord Ethelnorth still looked far from convinced and I ha
d to admit I had my doubts, but Alfred gave no time for more questions. ‘We need peace,’ he reasoned. ‘War has got us nowhere.’
‘Yes,’ said Ethelnorth. ‘But tell that to that bastard Hakon the Bonebreaker. I fear he has other plans in mind.’
* * * * *
So,’ said Alfred as we sat at his table waiting to eat, ‘tell me more of all that has transpired whilst you’ve been away.’
I quickly recounted my adventures, including all that had befallen me.
‘And so you are the mysterious warrior with the pierced heart?’ chuckled Alfred, for it seemed to amuse him.
I undid my shirt ties and showed him my scar.
He looked at it closely and shook his head. ‘Dear God, it’s a miracle you survived such a wound. Are you yet recovered?’
I said that I was, explaining that Ingar had used her skills to remove the arrow without probing. I omitted to tell him of Ingar’s prophecy that the wound would one day kill me. Strictly speaking, the omission was not a lie but then neither was it the full truth. That worried me as I recalled that my abbot had once warned me that the way with lies is such that they always lead to others. ‘The healer said she believed I’d actually died and come back to fulfil my destiny on earth in what she called ‘‘the given years’’.’
Alfred, ever wise in such matters, didn’t dismiss the idea out of hand. Miracles and such like were, for him as for us all in those days, an integral part of our faith. Indeed, it had been a visitation from St Cuthbert which had guided him through the darkest days at Athelney, so he had cause enough to respect such things. ‘We of course had no inkling it was you when they came to demand ransom,’ he explained. ‘We thought instead that it was a huge sum to pay for a warrior who would, in all likelihood, die within a matter of days if he was indeed so sorely wounded.’
‘Would you have paid it had you known it was me?’ I asked, perhaps overstepping the degree of respect to which he was entitled.
Alfred hesitated for a moment, then smiled. ‘Of course. Indeed, we would have paid ten times as much to see you safe.’