The King's Earl

by M J Porter

  He toyed with the possibilities, and eventually called Leofric, Æthelflæd, Olaf, Orkning and Oscetel to a discussion at the front of his hall. It wasn’t a secretive meeting, but neither was it open for all to comment. He simply didn’t want to make the decision himself. He feared he would choose the wrong option, as he had in the past.

  “I should go to the Queen,” Leofric answered, having reflected on the arguments. “Our family needs to be associated with the king most closely, and that means the queen and her son, not Thorkell and his army.”

  Orkning screwed up his face in concentration before he spoke.

  “I disagree. It should be Earl Thorkell. We need to show the king that House Leofwine isn’t afraid of war and battle, that we firmly support the kingship and will do so with blood if we must.” He winced as he spoke, his thoughts must have jumped to Northman, but no one expressed horror at his words, and Leofwine allowed the discussion to continue uninterrupted.

  “I agree with Leofric,” Æthelflæd murmured, turning aside. She had no interest in matters of state anymore, and Leofwine simply respected her for even listening. Her advice would be valuable, for all that she too could have plotted revenge against Cnut.

  Only Olaf and Oscetel had failed to speak, and as was often the case, it fell to Oscetel to present an alternative.

  “We could do both. Send Leofric to the queen, but with the household troops so that he can present them to the queen, with the words that they will act as she commands them, which means that they will do as Thorkell commands.”

  Leofwine raised his eyebrows as he met Oscetel’s eyes. Compromise had never been one of Oscetel’s weapons, but it seemed as though age was tempering him as well. It wouldn’t be long until Orkning took his place as his commander of the household troops. They all knew it, but no one spoke of it, not yet. Old men didn’t like to be reminded that with every year they lost more and more of their vigour, their fighting prowess, their ability to think and fight at the same time.

  “And you Olaf, what do you think?”

  “I’ve no opinion,” the younger man said, nodding once to Leofwine with respect, before leaving their small discussion group. The death of Northman still weighed far too heavily on him. Even the move to Lichfield hadn’t lifted his gloom.

  Leofwine looked at the men before him; Leofric, Oscetel and Orkning and he thought about what he would have done in the past, before his betrayal by the king. He would have acted for the safety of the kingdom.

  “Go to the queen. Do as Oscetel suggests. We need to be seen to be for the royal family, and we need to show that we mean our words.”

  Oscetel’s surprise was evident on his lined face, and Leofwine grinned at him.

  “I always knew that one day you’d learn to be wise.” The two older men laughed at the words, the younger men watching them with surprise. The youths had been friends since they’d met, they’d never had to size each other up and decide who would lead and who would follow. They’d been lucky, Leofwine thought, the moment of levity masking the anxiety of knowing that once more they were being pulled into politics they didn’t want to be involved in.

  When the others had gone about their business, he reached out and claimed Æthelflæd’s hand. Only now did she speak of the future, of her hopes and dreams for her family, her words pouring from her so that Leofwine knew she’d spent a long time considering what she wanted to say.

  It didn’t do to live a good long life. Too many friends and family died along the way. He held his grief in place by squeezing his eyes shut. It had been a trying day.

  Anglo-Saxon Chronicle For AD1019

  This year went King Knute with nine ships to Denmark, where he abode all the winter.

  Chapter 8

  Leofric

  Early AD1020

  Oxford

  As they’d decided, he rode at the front of the men of the household troop and with about a hundred men from the fyrd, those they’d been able to gather in the short time frame allowed them by Thorkell’s commands. He and Oscetel had discussed the arrangements when they arrived in Oxford.

  They would both seek out an audience with the queen, while Olaf and Orkning kept the men some distance from Oxford, not hidden, but not in plain sight either. That way, once they knew the queen and Thorkell’s demands, they’d bring the men into Oxford. It wasn’t a ruse as such, just a way of ensuring the impartiality of the House of Leofwine continued. Just being in Oxford would be an assurance for the Queen. That Leofwine hadn’t gone to the assistance of Æthelweard and Eadwig would undermine the rebellion. The knowledge that they had men ready and waiting would also assure Earl Thorkell of the House of Leofwine’s resolve to support the king, even if they weren't blatant about it.

  His father had promised to follow on if the situation deteriorated, but Leofric had seen the nervous way he’d looked at his mother, and he’d known that he’d not be calling on his father. His mother was too frail, her illness, until now not acknowledged openly, would keep his father by her side. He didn’t blame his father either; he would want to be by his wife if he knew her days were numbered. It was as much of a wrench for him to be away from his father, but he had responsibilities for the future that he couldn’t ignore.

  For once his father was putting his family first. It was a little piece of personal rebellion when the king deserved far more. He hoped that Cnut would realise the position he’d placed his father in when he returned. He also hoped that he’d reward his loyalty.

  Leofric assumed that Cnut would have been in contact with his Queen and Earl Thorkell and made his demands clear. Surely at some point over the winter, someone would have taken the time to inform him about what was happening. He held out half a hope that Cnut would have returned to England, either in secret or publicly, to put down the rebellion that was brewing in the south. As soon as he entered Oxford, in the late afternoon sun, the murmurs of the people going about their business let him know that the King was still in Denmark.

  He and Oscetel quickly gained admittance to the royal palace, and in no time at all, were before the queen. She was alone, apart from her royal followers, no sign of Thorkell anywhere and the queen looked pleased to see them. Leofric looked around the room with interest. It wasn’t the king’s hall, but rather her personal chambers. They were warm and more comfortable, fitted out with delicately carved wooden chairs, a table and even a desk that would have been more at home within one of the monasteries where monks laboured over their letters, days and night. Emma sat at the desk, her hand poised over a document she was signing, or writing, he wasn’t quite sure.

  She didn’t ask them to sit in her presence, but then, he didn’t expect to sit and be feted by the Queen. If war was coming, he and his men needed to be making themselves ready for any attack, choosing a position that would best protect Oxford.

  “You’ve come as you were bid,” she said pleasantly. “Please thank your father for me, Leofric. Earl Thorkell is scouting the countryside today, on the lookout for any sign of this alleged rebellion.” Her voice was warm but controlled. She was pleased but, Leofric thought, also worried by the situation she found herself within. She was well dressed in a comfortable and warm looking dress that he knew his wife would have envied for the bright colours and the delicate embroidery.

  She was not much older than he was, and yet she spoke with the authority that reigning for many years with both of her husbands, had given her. He wondered if he would ever sound so assured or if he’d always be scurrying around in his father’s footsteps.

  “Alleged?” Leofric asked. Her choice of words concerned him. He knew there was nothing alleged about the rebellion. Some of his men, unhappy with inactivity over the long, dark winter, had trailed south, listening for word of the rebellion, and they’d found it as well.

  “Alleged yes, after initial reports of a great uprising in the western lands, nothing has been seen or heard from the rebels. I fear we may have been scared by mere words as opposed to the sight of actual weapons.�
� Her eyes flashed as she spoke and Leofric wondered if she believed the words she said, or if she was only playing the part of the queen; trying not to show her concern and worry; trying to downplay the rebellion.

  Leofric looked to Oscetel for some support, but he looked as perplexed as Leofric felt. Was the queen testing them to see how much they knew, and how loyal they were, or was she truly uninformed?

  Oscetel stood firm, his lined face bright, his hands steady at his side. He was a steadying presence, but Leofric couldn’t help wishing his father were here to guide the next words he spoke.

  “Should we return to our lands then, my Lady?” he asked. This wasn’t what he’d been expecting, not at all. Oscetel shifted slightly beside him.

  “No, no, you must remain here with me, protect the king’s son in Earl Thorkell’s absence. If we find in a few days that there are no further reports of the rebellion then you can return home, but not now. Now it’s imperative that you remain here in Oxford, with the king's heir and me.” She sounded resolved, determined.

  His father had spoken in admiring terms of the queen throughout most of his life. He was starting to appreciate why. She didn’t shy from making decisions, even if they weren’t the ones that Leofric was expecting.

  “Have you heard from the king in Denmark?” Leofric pressed. He knew it was impertinent, but his father had specifically asked him to enquire.

  “Yes and also no. The last message was sent before the king was aware of the rebellion before the weather changed. I have messengers stationed at all the ports waiting for his next message, and also some to send to him, should the weather improve enough for the ships to sail. It is still a dangerous time of year.” She sounded frustrated and a little angry. He hoped his wife held her annoyance at his absences in better check when asked about them.

  “The other Earls are also coming?” If he hadn’t spoken with his father’s authority, he knew he'd not have dared to quiz the queen as he was currently doing, even in such warm and familiar surroundings.

  “Earl Erik has gone with the King, as has Earl Godwine. Only Earls Eilifr and Hakon, and of course Erik’s son remain in England. Earl Thorkell has appraised them of the situation, but I don’t know if they plan on heeding his commands. I didn’t send a personal message to them, only to your father.”

  “Of course my Lady,” Leofric said, the situation becoming clearer for him. The queen trusted her English Earl more than she did the Danish men, even though she was married to a Dane now and one of the other English Earl’s was behind the rebellion. He almost pitied her, but instead he bowed his way from her presence, promising to stay in Oxford and to bring the rest of the men to guard her and the town.

  She offered him a warm smile when he left, and he realised that the Queen had indeed been saying just as much with her sparse words as she had with her silences. He wondered if she felt compromised in the king’s hall. Was there someone working for the rebellion within the king's household?

  “A strange situation,” Oscetel offered as they returned to their horses. Leofric laughed at his brief summation and downplaying of the impasse they found themselves in.

  “My father always said the queen was no fool and knew her mind, and yet, she seemed scared, not her usual self. Does she think they're jumping at shadows or that there is a threat?”

  “We know there’s a threat Leofric, Æthelweard wrote to your father, asked him to join the rebellion. Thorkell and Emma know it as well. It’s a matter of whether the revolution has fallen apart without your father’s support. It’s possible it has and that the queen knows as much, or hopes as much, but can’t say as much. Not yet.”

  Leofric considered that. Oscetel never spoke without consideration, at least not to him, he knew his father had berated Oscetel in the past for not thinking events through. It was likely that he was right, and yet, he worried. Cnut had left a disgruntled English people growling under his command when he’d returned to Denmark. It was possible that the people, unhappy after so many years of attacks and counter-attacks, had decided to back Eadwig, their English king, or at least the person pretending to be Eadwig if his supposition proved correct.

  Leofric followed Oscetel from the royal palace, considering his options as he went. He didn’t want to be associated with a threat to the kingdom, and yet, he could understand why this Eadwig character had gained support.

  Outside Oxford, along the road they’d only just travelled, the two men and their small bodyguard encountered another force of men.

  “It’s one of the Danish Earls. You can tell. They always ride with their shields before them. See?” Oscetel pointed, and Leofric relaxed. Oscetel was correct. Leofric suppressed a wry grin. It seemed that he and his father weren’t the only men to be taking the threat seriously.

  “Who is it?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure. Olaf, do you know who that is?”

  Olaf peered into the distance and nodded.

  “It’s Earl Eilifr.”

  That was all he said, and Leofric didn’t press him further. He was only relieved that he wasn’t facing an English force from the rebellion and that Olaf’s keen eyesight allowed him a few moments to compose himself before meeting Eilifr face to face.

  He needn’t have worried. Eilifr didn’t even meet his eyes as he rode past with his force of about fifty men. Leofric noted that they were all sworn men of Eilifr. They were too well equipped to be men of the fyrd. He hoped it meant that Eilifr was still struggling to gain any support from the men and women around their family home.

  Further on, another group met them, this time deigning to stop and investigate who rode away from Oxford when they were racing towards it.

  “Leofric,” the lead man called, and Leofric gazed at the man. Only Olaf’s one-word intervention prevented him from naming the man incorrectly.

  “The queen is well?” Earl Hakon called, his opening gambit and Leofric shouted an answer in the affirmative.

  “Is Earl Thorkell with her?”

  ‘No, he’s gone south.”

  “Ah, I thought he would,” Hakon said, nodding slowly as he absorbed the information. Leofric could barely take his eyes from the man’s war gear, which he wore ready for battle. It positively gleamed in the dying light of the day. Leofric almost pitied the slaves who had to work to ensure each chain link flashed as brightly.

  “He seems unable to stay away from trouble. It’s as though the prospect of battle calls to him, even now. He is, after all, an old man. As old as your father, if not older,” Hakon had continued, as Leofric swept a gaze of the man and his men.

  “You’ll be staying at Oxford?” Leofric asked. He was curious to know what the other earls planned to do, the queen’s assertion that the rebellion was a thing of smoke and shadows seemed to be falling apart with every Danish earl who crossed their path.

  “If the queen demands it I will, but I have a desire to travel further south, see what this English Earl thinks he’s doing.”

  “You’ll attack him?” Leofric pushed.

  “I will if I must. I have no problem killing him if he’s traitorous. I’d like to see the truth of the matter first, though.”

  “You’ll not punish the people, though, will you?” Leofric spoke the words without thought. His father annoyed him with his concern for the people of England, and yet it seemed as though he had the same primary concerns. Without its population, England would be nothing. Kings and Earls would not till the land.

  Hakon glanced at him in surprise.

  “You worry about the people?” he asked, intrigue in his voice.

  “Of course I do, as my father does as well,” Leofric said, covering his shock at his words. “Kings, Earls, the thegns even, we all have a responsibility to protect those too weak to defend themselves.”

  “You think when they rise against the king that they’re too weak to defend themselves,” his tone had hardened Leofric glanced away, thinking of his next words. He’d thought the Danes lived in an equal society. Maybe he’
d been misinformed.

  “No, I think they’ll have had their heads filled with half lies by Earl Æthelweard, and I believe that King Cnut has done little to endear himself to them all. The people of England are quick to hold onto the past and slow to accept the inevitable march of time.”

  Hakon, his eyes half shadowed as the sky darkened, nodded once, sharply.

  “I’ll think about it Leofric. Thank you for your words.”

  He and his men rode off without another word and Leofric watched them feeling as though he’d said the wrong thing until Oscetel reined in behind him.

  “Well, spoken Leofric. When your father fully reconciles with the king, because it will happen and sooner than any of us would think possible, you’ll be called upon by the King to offer him advice, just as your father will be. You think more than these men. They know war and battle, death and coin, they don’t know how to rule a country of men and women who are pleased to be governed by a just king.”

  The words stayed with Leofric on the journey back to the rest of the men. He thought he’d said words he should never utter to the more war-like Danes, words he’d not even realised he harboured inside him. It seemed he was wrong. He glowed with Oscetel’s praise. Perhaps, after all, he could rule as his father did.

  Chapter 9

  Leofwine

  Early Summer AD1020

  Deerhurst

  Once more he knelt on the boards of the church, and he prayed for the souls of those he’d lost. He felt weak and vigorous at the same time. He couldn’t explain it to himself or to anyone who asked him how he could crack a smile, offer a joke, speak of Æthelflæd with joy as opposed to sorrow.