by M J Porter
“Do you plan on seeking out Godwine now?” Leofric asked him as soon as they were away from the great surge of people exiting the Church.
“I may as well,” he responded. His tide of good will had only lasted as long as it had taken his aches and pains to return. Now he wanted to do nothing but eat and rest for a while before the main business of the Witan, but he had a feeling that he might need to hear Godwine’s words first.
“Leofric, come with me. The rest of you can return to Armand’s for some food. I’ll meet you all back at Church this afternoon.”
As much as Ealdgyth looked like she wanted to object, she turned and walked meekly away. Leofwine watched her with a smile on his face.
“I think your sister was quite taken with the king,” he said in an aside to Leofric.
“Well he already has two wives, so I suggest she contain herself,” was his son’s less than amused response, and Leofwine chuckled all the more. He was unsure which of his children admired their king the most.
The Abbey grounds were close to the Church, and Earl Godwine himself greeted Leofwine and Leofric at the entrance.
“I saw you coming and thought I’d wait,” he offered by way of explanation, stifling a yawn as he went. “The service was long, and I was forced to travel throughout the night,” he offered as an apology.
“The King hasn’t been to Cirencester before,” Leofwine responded, “I don’t think he quite realised how far he’d have to travel from London.”
“No, or from the far Western Provinces, but never mind. At least I just about arrived on time,” Godwine commented as he led them inside the large wooden door on the abbey buildings. “I’ve asked for food to be prepared for us all. I thought Leofric might come with you.”
“My thanks for your thoughtfulness. It’s going to be a very long day,” Leofwine said. He wasn’t one for small talk with a man he little knew, but he realised this was what was expected of him. He was the earl who listened to everyone, who acted with honour and integrity even here with Godwine, the man who’d killed his son.
He doubted the man would make any reference to his role in Northman’s death and he wasn’t disappointed. As pained as he looked in his elaborate clothing, a ceremonial sword on his weapons belt, he didn’t mention Northman as they sat around a small table brimming with baked fish and some small seasonal vegetables.
“I asked to speak with you on an important matter. I apologise if it appears too secretive, but what I have to tell you could be very damaging if the wrong people hear it.”
He cautioned Leofwine with his hazel eyes as he spoke, and Leofwine nodded.
“Is the king aware of our conversation?”
“It is the king that I must speak of, so no, he isn’t aware of what we’re talking about. I assume word will reach him of our meeting, and we’ll have to decide on a mutual topic to say we discussed. But for now, I must speak with you of the Danish earls.”
“What all of them?” Leofwine asked in surprise. He’d been expecting to talk about a land transaction, or an alliance, not of the Danish.
“I fear their loyalty to the king is not as complete as mine and yours. We already know that Earl Æthelweard, although I don’t need to call him an Earl anymore, has been disillusioned with the king, and I’m not surprised. I expected it. He’s not had the relationship with Cnut and his family that you or I have had. It’s made the transition more difficult. But I expected the Danish earls to be more loyal to Cnut. After all, he’s their king in their homeland as well as here.”
“What exactly have you heard?” Leofwine asked. He was leaning forward on the table, intrigued, despite what Godwine was telling him.
“It’s not just what I’ve heard, but what I’ve seen as well. Denmark is much like England, just as exposed and just as surrounded by enemies as England is. The sea to the east of Denmark leads to many other lands, lands that the Vikings have explored and colonised as they see fit, but it means that they all believe they have a claim to the throne of Denmark. And to the north, the divided countries of Sweden and Norway are filled with petty kingdoms; no one seems to rule there without the support of other, more powerful kings. They look to Denmark for help, and if they don’t find it, then they look to replace the king of Denmark.”
“But Cnut’s family has held the kingdom for many, many years now. They’ve survived many attempts to destabilise them, or so I understand it.”
“They have yes, but always with a warrior king in residence. Swein was in alliances with many of the great families in Norway and Sweden. He was married to Olof of Sweden’s mother, he had an alliance with our Earl Erik who also holds land in Sweden, he ensured that Olaf Tryggvason was killed while his hold on Norway could be broken and someone he approved of placed in a position of power, and then, he had Thorkell as well.”
“But Cnut still has all the same connections.”
“Yes, but he’s not there. He can’t live in Denmark and rule England as well, and all the earls know it. I’ve heard rumours about Thorkell, Ulfr and Eilifr. I think Erik is loyal and will remain faithful, but the others, I’m filled with doubt about their loyalty to the king.”
He spoke in a whisper, his voice urgent, and Leofwine realised he was talking to a man who was genuinely worried, and not a man trying to trap a fellow earl into taking action that would see him toppled from his position within the kingdom at all.
“Whom have you shared this with?” Leofwine asked, his eyes inadvertently scanning the empty room to see who might be listening.
“No one but you and your son. I wanted to assure you, my intentions are honourable. I know my family hasn’t served the monarchy as long as your own, but I plan on doing so, and if the king is toppled in Denmark, I don’t know what will happen in England. What if another becomes king in Denmark and then turns their attention back to England, just as Cnut and his father did?”
“You’ve given this much thought,” Leofwine said, his tone giving nothing away.
“I’ve been away for many months, and not in the most pleasurable of weather conditions,” Godwine offered with a wry smile, “I’ve had nothing but time to think about the future.”
“Well we can’t watch all the Danish men, and we can’t go to the king unless there’s some clear proof, just as there is with Æthelweard. What would you have me do?”
Godwine held his gaze steadily.
“I want an agreement, between your family and my own. I want to know that we’ll work together, help the king as best as we can.”
“Huh,” Leofwine uttered, sitting back in the deep wooden chair he was ensconced within, “do you forget about our family’s past so quickly?”
Godwine glanced at Leofric then, his gaze impenetrable. Leofwine had a premonition then that Godwine and his son might have spoken more fully that morning than he’d thought. Perhaps Leofric had already tried to caution him against his father’s feelings. Either way, it little mattered. The greatest tell was that Godwine had thought he’d not need to atone for any of the wrongs he’d done. It spoke much louder than his words now.
“I had hoped we could put the past behind us.”
“What, without it even being spoken of? You apparently think I’m a more reasonable man than I truly am. My son died at your hands and my wife worried herself to death afterwards. Do you expect me to forget those two facts as though they never happened?”
Godwine visibly swallowed.
“You’ve made amends with the king,” was his sullen response, and Leofwine felt his anger flare and then dampen again. Godwine had worries that made him blind to the effect his actions had caused. It was easy to see that he’d become as single-minded as the Danish earls he spoke against.
“Cnut is my king. He’s been my king since the death of Æthelred. He’s atoned for his mistake, gone out of his way to seek me out, make reparation, allow me the last year with my wife without interference. Has he not told you of seeking me at Deerhurst, of begging me to help him run his country?”
> It was all too clear that Godwine was ignorant of those events, his bulging eyes and slightly shifty look giving him away.
“The king has worked for my loyalty and support. He’s earned it back in ways that you’ve not even contemplated.” Leofwine’s tone changed then; he didn’t wish to berate the man without an end in sight.
“That said. I understand your concerns. If you’d known King Æthelred better and not been swept up in your need for revenge against Eadric you’d have understood that men surrounded him who looked to their gain, not the kingdoms. It’s the lot of kings to find themselves surrounded by men who only look at themselves, not the bigger picture. It’s a valuable lesson for you to learn, Godwine. And for now, this is the only advice I can give you, watch, and watch carefully. Don’t commit yourself. Make acquaintances, not friends. Keep your family safe, maintain the king as your ally, and if you wish to be my ally, make some reparation to my family and I. But for now, I’ll bid you good day. But remember, I’m the King’s Earl, and I’ll act in his best interests. While I’ll not ally with you now, I won’t turn your concerns aside, and I’ll watch, but Godwine mark this, I’ve always watched and known the minds of men, perhaps better than they do and I’ll be watching you as well as the Danish earls.”
With that, he stood steadily, for once his legs and back all conspiring to come together at the same time. He bowed stiffly to the Earl and made his way towards the closed doorway. He didn’t expect Godwine to speak, but he did, somehow finding his voice as he placed his hand on the door bar.
“My thanks for your candour, Leofwine. I’ll not forget our meeting today, and I would ask you to accept my apologies for my lack of thoughtfulness. I’ll mark you as an ally and treat you as such all the same.”
Leofwine held his gaze for a long moment, assessing the man. He couldn’t deny that he was impressed by the words he’d spoken and his ability to recover from a conversation turning decidedly away from the direction he’d no doubt hoped it would take.
He nodded again, just once, concisely. He would let Godwine decide what it meant.
Once outside, his hounds in front of him and Leofric at his side, he felt himself stumble under the strain of the conversation. Leofric quickly offered him his arm, making the movement look intentional and together they walked back towards the church.
“Apologies father,” Leofric muttered morosely, “I should have warned you that the man had forgotten about Northman.”
He patted his son’s arm reassuringly.
“It wasn’t your place to speak. It was his to remember and act accordingly. He learnt a valuable lesson today and one that will stay with him. I think Earl Godwine will serve the king for many years. He may have been presumptuous to think he needn’t even speak about your brother, but he sees with clarity now. If he’s worried about the Danish earls, then I believe that we should share his worries.”
“Even Earl Thorkell?” Leofric asked as they rejoined the small crowd around the church.
“Even Thorkell. He’s played kings for fools before. Ultimately he only cares about the advantages to himself in any alliance. If the advantage disappears, then so will his loyalty. Both Swein and Æthelred learned as much to their detriment.”
“But the king trusts him?”
“Of course he does. Thorkell raised him. He has a hold on his heart and his loyalty both. If Thorkell steps out of line, Cnut will be doubly blind to his treachery.”
Leofric exhaled loudly.
“It’ll give you something to think about anyway,” Leofwine joked to his second oldest son.
“How do you keep everyone straight in your mind?” Leofric asked, intrigued.
“Sometimes I don’t. It’s a skill you’ll need to master. Use Finn if you must. He’ll scribe for you, make lists of men and alliances. It’s not easy to remember each and every man and woman in England and now Denmark.”
“Did you eat enough?” his son asked him then, his concern for his father overriding his worries. Leofwine nodded. He had eaten as much as he needed to. “I’m well, but if you need more, run back to Armand’s. He’s sure to have prepared enough for us as well as your brothers and sister.”
“Well, what will you do?” Leofric asked, and Leofwine pointed towards a nearby tree stump in the grounds of the Church.
“I’ll sit here with the hounds and enjoy the afternoon sun until the Witan convenes. Don’t fret about me lad. I’ve looked after myself for many long years, and no one will harm me in your absence.”
“Well if you're sure?” he said, but Leofwine sent him on his way. His son had been too busy watching the interplay between him and Godwine to take more than a mouthful of the delicious meal and his hunger needed to be sated.
He settled himself on the tree trunk, Cyneweard keen to run and chase anything he could find whereas Healer, almost with rolled eyes at her comrade's inability to sit still, settled herself at her master’s feet and waited. She was good at waiting.
Leofwine closed his good eye letting the sunlight touch his face through the dappled leaves of the trees in the church grounds that still stood. He breathed deeply, pleased to be outside and glad that the air held a promise of warmth. His old bones were often too cold, just as old Wulfstan’s had turned in his old age. He missed the older man and sometimes wondered how he’d managed to keep his interest in matters of intrigue and the king. Quickly he reconsidered. He’d forgotten that even Wulfstan had been jaded near the end of his life, sick of kings and conflict.
After only a few moments he felt the crunch of feet over the road, and he knew Oscetel had found him, or Olaf or Orkning. One of them would have come to ensure he was safe. He didn’t open his eye. There was no need.
He could have happily sat there all day, but after only a short amount of time, he felt someone standing in front of him, and opened his eye to peer up, and then up and up, at a grinning Earl Thorkell.
“Sorry to disturb you,” he said, but it was evident he wasn’t that sorry or he wouldn’t have waited to be noticed.
“I was just enjoying the air, but sit with me. The hound might finally tire himself out and sit quietly through the afternoon’s events.” There was no need to point out Cyneweard to Thorkell. The hound kept dashing in and out of their line of sight as he chased something only he could see. Thorkell chuckled slightly at the sight of the mad creature and then his smile dimmed. “It’s the afternoon I wish to speak to you about.”
“I thought it might be. What worries you?”
“Æthelweard. He has a silver tongue, and I fear he’ll turn the king back in favour of him staying in England. To anyone who’ll listen he says that he purposefully provoked a rebellion just to see who would stand with him and who wouldn’t.”
“And people believe him?” Leofwine queried, the incredulity in his voice easy to hear.
“Some do, and some don’t.”
“What happened to Eadwig, the other half of the alliance? I never did hear.”
“He evaded capture, escaped.”
“How did that happen?” Leofwine mused loudly, intrigued when Thorkell stiffened at the unintended slight.
“He was forewarned. I don’t know whom by.”
“So the prince is still alive somewhere if he was the prince?”
“Oh yes, he’s still alive, and he certainly looks enough like his older brothers, Athelstan and Edmund, for me to think he was the prince.”
“What happened to the child of Edmund? I understood his wife was pregnant at his death.”
“We don’t know. She’s dead. We know that, and I assume the child is as well.”
“But she might not be. So really, this rebellion could only be the first of many. The old line has many branches that yet live.”
“It might yes, but that doesn’t help me with the king.”
“No, it doesn’t, but reminding him of all the others who eye his kingdom or who threaten its stability will harden his resolve towards Æthelweard. I know people think he should die, and the king d
isagrees, and while I agree with the king’s wishes, Æthelweard certainly needs to be outlawed.”
“You’ll support me then?”
“Wholeheartedly. Æthelweard should have learnt his lesson two years ago. This was his second chance and he failed to reform his ways. He needs to feel the king’s anger.”
“Many thanks, Leofwine” Thorkell uttered his face clearing of worry. “I know that Erik and Hakon agree with me. Eilifr is being stubborn on purpose and refuses to tell me his thoughts. Godwine concurs although he’s not happy about it.”
“Then the king will have to outlaw him, no matter what tale he tries to spin. The Earls will have spoken, and I imagine that Archbishop Wulfstan will have something to say about it as well. Anyway, no one supported him in his rebellion so his words will have no impact on the king. If it was an attempt to draw my family out, it failed, and I can’t see who else Æthelweard would have been trying to implicate.”
“You’re right Leofwine. I just needed someone else to tell me what I already knew. My thanks for speaking with me.”
“It’s never a problem Thorkell. You found holding England for Cnut onerous?”
“It was no mean feat, not with the queen and her demands, and damn Æthelweard and this prince Eadwig, whether he be the real prince or not. I would have been happier with Cnut in Denmark, but I understand why he asked me to stay behind.”
“He trusts you,” Leofwine stated, not a question.
“He does, and I trust him, but still, I would have preferred England to have been left in your hands. They are more stable than mine. Men see you as English, not Danish. It makes a huge difference.”
“It does but it also doesn’t. The men and women of England have long been used to others mingling within the population. Look at the Danelaw. It’s easier when the Danes simply fit in with the English and their customs, but I know it’s not always possible. Look at York. The old Scandinavian kingdom of York is filled with men and women from all parts of the Viking lands. They’re happy under Earl Erik, but equally, they felt well represented under Uhtred, an Englishman by birth if not by ancestry and name.”