by M J Porter
“The English are accommodating, I’ve always known that. I only wish the Danes could be more tolerant. It’s our fault that the English are unhappy. We should take less and give more. I’ve been trying to educate Cnut to see things that way.”
“Cnut will learn. He’s even keen to learn. He’ll be a good strong king, the sort of man the English are pleased to follow and name as their champion.”
“I suppose you might be right. I’ll think on it, and my thanks for your support about Earl Æthelweard.”
“I don’t believe we need to use the term Earl anymore when we talk about him but never fear; you have my support.”
Thorkell left then, casting Leofwine into full shade as he walked away, his tall figure surprising Leofwine once more. He felt a trickle of unease as he watched him go. It seemed as though Thorkell had an enemy in Godwine. Nothing he’d just said alluded to him being ready to take action against the king, and yet Godwine had been adamant that he’d heard rumours about him. Leofwine felt a wave of premonition wash over him. He’d been here before, too many times with King Æthelred. The men of the Witan needed to learn to trust each other before they could provide their king with the support he needed. He wondered if they’d ever learn.
His daughter immediately joined him when Thorkell left, her face rebellious.
“I told Leofric not to leave you,” she admonished, settling beside her father and reaching out to pat his hand in reassurance.
“I’m no old man in his dotage just yet, Ealdgyth. I can hold my own here, as I told your brother.”
“Even so,” she started, her words angry, but he shushed her.
“Ealdgyth, politics have driven me for much of my life. I know how to behave when other men of power seek me out.”
She shrugged at his words, as though she dismissed them, but her eyes were hard and frightened. He wondered what she saw in her future.
“You don’t have to follow the same path that your brothers and I have chosen, you know. I already know that Eadwine hopes to follow Finn’s example and become a scribe and a holy man. You can choose your path as well.”
“How?” she muttered sullenly. “People look at me, and they see you, or Northman or Leofric, they don’t see me for who I am.”
“But they could and they would if you made a home for yourself somewhere else. I know I asked for your help today and tomorrow, but in the future, you never need to come to the Witan again.”
“I know father, but well, it seems unfair that I can’t have my opinions, represent people myself. I know as much as you and Leofric do.”
“Yes, you do. Perhaps you should seek an audience with the queen. Ask about joining her household if you wish to have politics in your life.”
“Why would she have me? And even she doesn’t have as great a say as Cnut. If she did, Thorkell need not have stood as regent in his absence.”
“The queen would no doubt enjoy your lively mind,” Leofwine said, a glint in his eye. He didn’t know how much the queen would thank him for offering such a high-spirited daughter to her service, but she owed him many times over, and Ealdgyth could be charming when she chose to be. “She holds power in her own right. You should speak with her. Remember, your mother ran our household as well. She was a woman other men admired.”
“Only because she was married to you,” she offered grumpily, and Leofwine laughed out loud. She wouldn’t be mollified.
“Then find yourself a powerful husband and stop moaning.”
She grinned at that, her melancholy immediately lifted.
“All the decent ones are taken, or I’m bloody related to them,” she joked, and Leofwine laughed.
“Surely not all the good ones are taken.”
“Well, the king has Emma and that other woman.”
“Good to see you’re not aiming too high!” he exclaimed.
She flashed a deeper grin then.
“Earl Erik is ancient; Earl Hakon is too young. Earl Eilifr is not on my list of favourite men. Earl Thorkell is too tall but twice married anyway. That leaves you, and you’re too old for me, even if I wasn’t your daughter. Earl Godwine, well, I don’t need to tell you why I object to him.”
“Perhaps you should aim lower than an earl?” he asked, his eyes amused by his daughter’s thought processes as she ticked her fingers off against each name she spoke.
“If I were to do that, I’d need to know whether I should have an English or a Danish husband, and for that, I’d need to know what the king plans for the future.”
“You could just leave it to chance, see if you fall in love.”
“There’s no time for love,” she answered haughtily. “If I must have a husband, I would rather he could give me what I desire than love and fawn over me.”
Leofwine chuckled even louder then. “I think you might have given the matter too much thought.”
“No, I assure you I haven’t. Just now I’ve decided on all my reasons for rejecting men. I don’t like to let my mind be filled with the thoughts of a man in my bed.”
“Your mother didn’t object to me.”
“No, but you were married through the king’s will. He chose her for you, and when you left for the North she was pregnant and needed you to return, or she’d have spent the rest of her life either being fought over by other men, or in a nunnery, and I don’t want a nunnery.” She shuddered as she spoke, and Leofwine levered himself to his feet. It appeared that while he and his daughter had been speaking, the other men of the Witan had arrived.
“Come with me. Watch from the rear of the church. If there’s a man who catches your eye, tell me and if not, I’ll petition the queen for you.”
She rolled her eyes at his first statement but seemed to quite like the second.
“There won’t be anyone in there for me,” she said, “there has never been before.”
“We’ll see Ealdgyth, and play fair. You tell me if you find someone who takes your fancy.”
“I will father, I promise. But there won’t be.”
Leofric and his two further sons returned by then, Eadwine busily calling Cyneweard to heel, while Leofric looked pensive.
“What’s riled her?” he asked his father when Ealdgyth walked to Eadwine and started berating him for the tone he was using with the hounds.
“Talk of marriage,” Leofwine replied, amusement rippling through his voice. “She says all the good men are gone, or she’s related to them.”
“I think she’s right,” Leofric uttered, and Leofwine laughed then, with real joy. His children were a source of delight for him, always unexpected. He knew that when his daughter was finally married, all his sons as well, they would all manage very well without him, but that was for the future. For now, he had a man to outlaw and a king to support. He was, after all, the king’s earl.
Chapter 12
Leofric
Easter AD1020
Cirencester
He sat beside his father, at the front of the church, waiting for the king to appear. He’d been pondering his father’s reaction to Earl Godwine’s entreaties earlier, and he’d felt unbalanced when he’d discovered his father speaking to one of the very men Godwine was wary of. He was pleased his father hadn’t made him talk to the man. He was unsure if he’d have managed to keep the suspicions Godwine had spun from his conversation.
Once more, he was reminded of his father’s skill with men and kings. For nearly thirty years he’d woven a path through treachery, ill feelings and the death of men who’d been his allies. While Leofric knew he wanted the power his father held, he found the skill set he needed to acquire daunting.
Not that he blamed his father for his late lessons in life. It had always been Northman who’d been slated to be the son who succeeded his father. Even when he’d been linked with Eadric, Leofric had known that Northman would be ealdorman in their father’s place.
He’d been to the Witan with his father, and he’d attended meetings, but he’d never paid quite as much attention as he
now realised he should have done, content to know the Witan wasn’t going to be his destination in life. It seemed that nothing in life was as assured as he’d once thought. The old king and his swarm of older sons had all failed in their efforts to keep the kingdom in the family line, and although the younger sons were still alive, sheltered in Normandy, who knew what life had in store for them.
Even though Cnut appeared hale and hearty, in the prime of his life, sons aplenty from two different wives, and two kingdoms as well, Leofric now realised that anything could upset his careful plans. Even the dismal failure of Æthelweard’s rebellion was due to the English shying away from more conflict, rather than because of the skills of Cnut. If the English hadn’t been so battle weary, Cnut might not be his king, but Eadwig might be. The thought of so much uncertainty unnerved him.
“Thorkell was well?” he asked his father, trying to censure his unease from his voice.
“Quite, he seemed to be ruffled by his time as regent and worried that the king would recant on his decision to outlaw Æthelweard.”
“He won’t will he?” Leofric was outraged. The earl had made the wrong decision when he’d tried to ally with Eadwig, and he needed to be punished for making the mistake twice.
“No, he won’t. He can’t. Everyone already knows that Æthelweard is to be outlawed, that’s what this whole meeting is for. Thorkell is worrying for worrying’s sake. The king knows his duty, and he has no plans to kill Æthelweard, he’s assured me as such, and so it must be outlaw.”
“Good, I wouldn’t want him to retain his position. Not after everything, that’s happened.”
“I agree Leofric,” his father quietly said.
By then the king had made his way to the front of the church, his clothing richly decorated with flashing gold and red jewels, his crown, for once, perched on his head. He’d changed since their meeting during the morning. The crown was a ceremonial item, worn only rarely, but this afternoon it seemed that the king was reinforcing his claim to the kingdom to his assembled councillors.
His small son and wife accompanied the king. Harthacnut wore similar clothes to his father, and his eyes were transfixed by the spectacle his father made. Even Leofric found a smile on his face. Young children held the promise of a future of hope for any parent. For Cnut, his intention couldn’t be clearer.
The queen sat slowly, her stomach bloated once more with another child for the king. The king's plan was so clear that Leofric half expected his other wife, and her two sons, to enter the Church as well with no regard for the feelings of Queen Emma who’d made it clear that it would be her son who continued the royal line, not the son of a common-law wife.
Cnut’s expression was grim as he lifted his son to sit him by his wife. Leofric expected the king to speak, but he didn’t, instead seating himself as carefully as he had his son and looking expectantly at Earl Thorkell.
The great Norse Earl stood, his expression grim.
“My Lord King, I would ask you to pass judgment on the rebel Earl Æthelweard. While you were across the sea, he colluded with a man pretending to be Prince Eadwig, the son of your predecessor, and he tried to rally support from the nobles and the people alike. Luckily, we became aware of his actions, and were able to apprehend him.” If anyone was surprised by Thorkell’s description of the Prince Eadwig as a fraud, no one commented. Leofric supposed it was just another piece of carefully constructed propaganda.
As Thorkell spoke, Earl Æthelweard was brought into the church. He was finely dressed, complete with his cloak, but without his weapons. His eyes were overly bright, and he’d lost weight since Leofric had last seen him. He was sure Thorkell hadn’t injured the man, but at the same time, it was unlikely he’d been kept in the luxury he was used to. After all, a traitor was a traitor, be they prince, king or one of the people.
The king stared long and hard at Æthelweard while Thorkell waited for him to speak further. His expression, while pensive, gave nothing away.
“I would hear more of the actions he took against me. Do you have witnesses?”
“Yes my Lord King, many of them, and they’ll all happily speak before you.”
“I’d like to hear from three different men,” the king said, and Leofric knew that he was going to be called on even before he felt Thorkell’s gaze on him. He swallowed nervously. His father had prepared him for this after his encounter with Earl Æthelweard during the rebellion, but still, it was unsettling to know he would have to speak before everyone.
“I call on Earl Leofwine’s son, Leofric as the first witness.”
His father grasped his arm as he stood, and Leofric felt his heart beating frantically. He gazed at the king, at Æthelweard and then at the members of the Court behind him, and suddenly he felt calm. He had only to speak of what he knew. Nothing more. The decision ultimately lay with men other than him.
“My Lord King, my Lady Queen,” he began with a low incline of his head, and the quirk of a smile for the young lad. “The words I’ll now speak are my recollection of events, and are as true as they can be.”
Silence filled the church, but it wasn’t hostile, merely intrigued, or even bored. Everyone knew the outcome of the trial, but it seemed the king wished to observe due process before he outlawed his earl. It was a stark change to his brother’s summary murder, without so much as a trial.
“The king had only just left the country when my father received messages from Earl Thorkell and the Queen, concerned with rumours from the southern lands. At the same time, a further message was received from Æthelweard himself, asking my father to support him.”
“My father told me to travel to Oxford and confer with the Queen and Earl Thorkell, and I did so, only Earl Thorkell was already trying to stop the rebellion. I spoke with the Queen, pledged the support of my house and the fyrd and then, with the knowledge of my father, I too travelled south. I wanted to turn the people away from the beguiling lies Æthelweard was spreading of how a return to the old House of Wessex would return England to its former greatness. I wanted to let them know, as my father did, that England needed a competent king and not a rift running through it once more.”
“And you found the Earl Æthelweard?” Thorkell asked, not impatiently, but as though he was trying to help him keep his thoughts ordered.
“I did my Lord, far to the West, in Watchet, He was accompanied by the man who called himself Prince Eadwig, son of King Æthelred II. They spoke to me of how great the future would be if Eadwig became king, how my father would become the premier ealdorman in the land, how I would be made an ealdorman as well. They tried to turn me to their cause with empty promises, and I promised nothing in return, but I listened to their words, and through the aid of my men, I was able to get word to Earl Thorkell and also the queen about their plans.”
“What were their plans?” the King asked, his interest piqued.
“They planned on marching to Winchester with all their followers, emptying the king’s treasury and using the money to entice a ship army from the northern lands. I confess, I didn’t try and stop them. I thought it best to let them continue with their plan.”
Æthelweard fixed him with a gaze filled with loathing, but Leofric ignored him. There was no shying away from what had happened. Not now that he’d been caught in the act. His actions spoke far louder than any words he could utter, provided Leofric could phrase his account of events well.
“How many men did they have?”
“At that time, just the men of the fyrd. I did my best to speak with them, and in many cases, I was successful and no sooner had new recruits come at their Earl’s calling than others were slinking their way home. The men of the Western Provinces did not crave more war and bloodshed, not when they already had a king they felt loyal to, despite their initial misgivings.”
“What happened next?”
“Prince Eadwig felt they needed more allies, more men to aid them in their endeavours. They discussed appealing to the King of Gwynedd and Powys, the king
s in the land across the sea towards Ireland. Earl Æthelweard was frustrated by the decision, but he went along with it and allowed Prince Eadwig to travel with a retinue of his men. I took the lull in activities as an opportunity to leave and return to Oxford to inform the Queen and Earl Thorkell. From there I felt it best to go home. I didn’t want there to be any … misunderstanding into my presence there.”
He felt the sharp glare of the king on his face, but he focused exclusively on the audience to the side of him as he spoke. His father had been adamant that he used that phrase. He said the king needed to be reminded of how harshly he’d dealt with traitors in the past, of how he’d failed to listen to the words of the House of Leofwine and must now continue to make amends.
He sat then. He’d not returned to Earl Æthelweard. Instead, his mother had sickened and he’d chosen to stay with her. He’d decided it was a far better use of his time.
“Earl Hakon, I call on you to give your testimony,” the king said into the whispering silence.
The younger Earl stood, and as Leofric had done, positioned himself in such a way that he could face the assembled audience and the king both.
“Leofric Leofwinesson returned to Oxford when I was there, waiting for more news, as were the other earls. Earl Thorkell had returned to the queen’s side because the rumours were rife that an attack was imminent. Leofric’s words concerned me, and it was agreed between Earl Thorkell, the queen and myself that I should attempt to seek out Earl Æthelweard. Using the intelligence from Leofric, that the intended target was the treasury at Winchester, I dispatched my most trusted men to watch the road from the Western Provinces and made my way to Winchester.”
He paused to gather his thoughts.
“Earl Æthelweard already had men stationed within Winchester, preparing to take control of the town, and then no doubt the Treasury. I waited for news from my people to tell me that Æthelweard was coming to Winchester. In the end, he took so long; I started to doubt that he’d ever come, that maybe he’d realised Leofric was hostile to the rebellion and had purposefully laid a false trail. Only then, my warriors came to me, where we were encamped outside Winchester, and told me that Earl Æthelweard and the Prince Eadwig were reinforced with a force from the King of Dublin. I sent word to Earl Thorkell immediately, and to the queen, and called upon the household troop of the local reeve. I also managed to secure support from the lands of Kent. Earl Godwine had left instructions with his men that they should support the king in any way they could during his absence.”