by M J Porter
His anger at the king drove his resolve through the warmer weather to be more proactive, to rule as he must, to teach his son as he must. Only then, as so often had happened in the past, nothing happened. England lapsed into a peaceful summer, the weather warm, the harvest tipped to be fruitful, and Leofwine hoped that the king was finding conspiracy where there was none; that for the first time in what felt like a lifetime to Leofwine, England was peaceful and more importantly, at peace.
Each and every morning of the late summer, Leofwine strained his ears to catch the telltale sound of a horse’s hooves flying over the hard road surfaces outside, amazed when days stretched into weeks, and the nights started to close in early. He almost allowed himself to relax, surrounded by his older grandsons and his younger grandson.
And then on an evening with the first nip of winter in the air, Leofric strode into the hall at Lichfield, his face as black as the sky outside, his temper easy for everyone to see and Leofwine knew that the peace was over.
He’d been away for some weeks, visiting Deerhurst with Godgifu and placing himself that little bit closer to the centre of events around the king. Leofwine had only just returned from a visit to the ancient church at Repton, surveying it and imagining the horrors from when the Great Army of Viking raiders had first descended on the ancient kingdom of Mercia, nearly a hundred and fifty years ago. He’d been pondering the idea that Swein and Cnut’s conquest had been almost peaceful by comparison.
He stood to greet his son, but Leofric waved him down, flinging his thick winter cloak aside and striding to warm his hands before the fire. His breath had faintly puffed when he’d opened the door, but in the warmth of his family home, it quickly dissipated. Leofwine looked behind his son’s red cheeks to search for Godgifu and his grandson but couldn’t see them.
“I left them at the Abbey. I had to ride too fast for them,” Leofric offered, holding his hand out to take the offered cup of mead. He drank thirstily and wiped his face with his sleeve, not even raising his eyes to greet his younger brothers.
“I heard rumours while I was away,” he began, his eyes almost feverishly bright, reflecting the light from the fire and the candles within the room. Leofwine felt his good spirits disperse, just as his son’s chill breath had. This was it.
“They were shocking enough as they were, but when I investigated, I became even more concerned by what I was discovering.”
“Why what were the rumours?” Leofwine asked. He needed to know the full story if he was to pass judgment on it.
“Earl Hakon came to me first. A social meeting, he called it, but quickly he began to spill the seeds of what he’d learned and it concerned Thorkell, Eilifr and his brother, Ulfr.”
“They’ve long been friends,” Leofwine interjected, and Leofric nodded. He knew it the three northern men had been allies even before Swein had become king.
“It seemed that Hakon has been informed by one of his household warriors that the three were actively recruiting more men, that they wanted only skilled warriors, men who could leave their current commitments without arousing too much suspicion. The man had a brother who was coming all the way from Denmark to take up one of the positions.”
“It sounds as though they’re gathering an army?” Leofwine offered, but Leofric was shaking his head.
“I thought the same, so did Hakon. He was anxious. I think he’d come to seek you out, ask for your opinion. He wanted to tell his father, and Cnut but he was unsure. There was something about it that just didn’t feel quite right, and I agreed with him. Why now? The men have what they want. I know Cnut thought that Thorkell thrived on war, but then I thought back to Thorkell’s words to me at Assandun, and I knew to question what Hakon was telling me.”
“I asked for more details about the man who’d come to him, and he presented the man to me, his name is Ragnor, a more northern name it’s almost impossible to have unless of course, it’s Olaf. I questioned him, as did Hakon, but his story was true. He’d been told by his brother, who’d arrived in England, and was preparing to find a way to meet with him. He’d sent a message with one of the traders on the ship he’d travelled from Denmark on. It all seemed to ring true. Still, I told Hakon I’d see what I could find out.”
“I made time to visit with Earl Eilifr. I don’t like the man, but effectively I was on his land in Deerhurst, and I felt it would be a plausible excuse to seek him out. He was in Cirencester, but I didn’t see any additional men around the town, and when Orkning and the troop dispersed throughout the town, they didn’t come in contact with any newcomers either, and I ensured it was a market day so that everyone would be out and about.” He offered the words before Leofwine could say them. If Leofric hadn’t been so worried, Leofwine might well have smirked at his son’s thinking.
“I called on Armund, but he knew nothing either, although I couched my questions so that he didn’t suspect anything. I was at a loss. If the rumour was true, the king needed to know, but I could find no hint of it with Earl Eilifr, and Earl Hakon told me he’d tried to find out information from Earl Hrani but had come away feeling the same.”
“What did you do next?” Leofwine asked his son. He could hear the confusion in his voice at what he’d encountered.
“I went home and thought about it for a few days. The king was at Winchester, I thought it too far to go on a whim, but neither was I about to go and question Earl Thorkell in East Anglia.”
“You should have sent to me,” Leofwine said, but he knew his heart wasn’t in the offer, and his son’s grimace told him he knew it.
“I needed something, not just rippling rumours and unsubstantiated arguments. And then, from nowhere, I received a messenger from Earl Godwine. His message was filled with the news that Hakon had told me, and something clicked.”
“You thought he might be behind the rumours?”
“I had my suspicions, and so I did make the effort to seek out more information. I knew he might be with the king, although the messenger denied it, he did so in such a way that made me think I was correct. Leaving Godgifu and Ælfgar at Deerhurst, I travelled south to see if I could find Godwine. I thought if I found the king first I’d be able to explain away my presence somehow. I didn’t think about it,” he added ruefully, “I just wanted to assure myself that Godwine wasn’t poisoning the king’s ear.”
“Did you find them?”
“No, and yes. I came upon Earl Godwine, out hunting, or so he said, but with almost twenty of his men. I think someone told him about my intentions?”
“What Hakon? I can’t imagine that. Why would he tell Godwine but not his father?”
“I don’t know. Anyway, either Earl Godwine was lucky, or he went out of his way to prevent me reaching the king.”
“So you didn’t make it to the king then?”
“No, and that’s the problem. Earl Godwine waylaid me on the road. He assured me he’d be speaking to the king about it and that I need not worry about it. He was taking action. I tried to continue anyway, but it seemed impossible, without him finding out, and then if he knew I didn’t trust his word, I thought I’d be no use to the King.”
Leofric stopped speaking in a rush of air, and Leofwine immediately grasped the impossible situation they’d been put in. Either Thorkell and his old cronies planned a rebellion or Godwine was intentionally trying to ferment discord between the king and his greatest supporter, and somehow Earl Hakon was involved, the son of Earl Erik, and the King’s cousin. None of it boded well.
“When was this?”
“I met with Earl Godwine five days ago. I had to return via Deerhurst and arrange for Godgifu and Ælfgar to go back to our home.”
“What do you think is happening? What’s your gut reaction?”
Leofric sighed again. “I don’t know, I don’t want to see problems where there are none, but if men are coming from Denmark, and it seems they truly are, although I can find no trace of them, then someone must have arranged for it. We all know that the Danish men on
ly come to England for coin, or to govern us.”
His tone was bitter as he spoke. Leofwine didn’t blame him.
“What should we do?” he asked so plaintively, it was almost as though he were a young child again.
“We’ll ride to East Anglia from here, arrange to meet with Thorkell. He asked you to have an open mind, and we’ll give him that open mind.”
“You’ll come with me?” Leofric asked, but Leofwine was already nodding.
“I will. The possibility of such a massive rebellion, or the mutterings of one, are too important to leave to the king and his other earls to resolve, and neither would I want Thorkell to think you stand alone.”
Leofric seemed to like the solution; his shoulders settled, and he turned to shout delayed greetings to his nephews, who had been busily fighting before the fire. It seemed as though speaking his worries out loud to someone who listened, had calmed him.
The journey to East Anglia, or more accurately to Thetford, was undertaken in easy stages. Leofwine was adamant that they couldn’t go riding through the countryside as though norsemen pursued them. If they did, word would quickly reach the king, and he’d wonder what was happening, and perhaps worse, think they were involved with whatever fictitious or not, rebellion was being cooked up.
Instead lazy day long journeys, stopping at religious houses along the way, allowed Leofwine to insist on the company of Wulfstan and Ælfwine, and gave him the opportunity to see how the lads would fair in his household troops. He wasn’t sure what he could see in their future. The sons of an executed man were never likely to be offered the same advantages that Leofric’s son would have, but they could still be good people, serve their king well, even if in less exalted positions. Perhaps, he hoped, they might one day become sheriffs or Reeves, men the king needed to rule his country to collect taxes and revenue and yet who were ignored by the earls and the king’s thegns. A life of anonymity might be the best they could hope for.
It wasn’t what he wanted for them, but Mildryth was resolved to it already, and he wouldn’t go against her desires.
On the border with East Anglia, they finally met some more traffic on the road. The journey had been remarkably uneventful. They’d passed the odd farmer making their way to market, a few traders who travelled from market fair to market fair, but no men with weapons apart from a hunting party when they were close to Ely.
The men they met were of Danish birth. It was clear to tell from their accents, and the way they dressed, their weapons prominent for all that England was at peace. Leofwine knew a moment of foreboding on the warm summer’s day, but he kept his fears to himself and allowed Leofric to hail them.
The lead man was someone that Leofwine vaguely recognised, but it was Orkning, at his side, while Olaf accompanied Leofric, who provided the name.
“It’s Hemming’s son, Thorkell’s nephew. I think his name is Regna.”
Leofwine fixed the man with a hard stare, trying to place him and see if he did know him but he came up blank, surmising that perhaps he’d met him in the past but never been introduced to him.
The two groups of riders met amicably enough, but Leofwine was too far away from them to hear what was being said. The body language gave enough away, though. It was clear that Regna was unhappy, and his unhappiness was making Leofric angry. Both men quickly began to resemble dogs about to fight over a bone.
Sighing, he kicked his amicable horse forward, not needing to tell Orkning to stay with his grandsons. This was supposed to have been a pleasant summer jaunt, not the beginning of a serious altercation.
Angry words were flying from Regna’s mouth, and Leofwine tried not to dislike him on sight. His face was angrily red, his mouth working so hard to get his point across that Leofric had lapsed into a sullen silence. The men who surrounded them, five from each side, were working hard to control suddenly unhappy horses infected by the tense atmosphere. He had an inkling that it wouldn’t have mattered what Leofric had said to the man. He was already upset.
“Good day,” Leofwine called when he was in hearing distance. His voice was loud enough to be heard but steady. The angry face of Regna’s immediately met his, and he saw recognition flash over it, and then he looked at Leofric once more, seeing the family connection. Suddenly his shoulders slumped, and it already appeared as though he’d admitted defeat.
“Good day Earl Leofwine,” Regna called loudly. “I believe I owe your son an apology. It’s been a stressful few days and I didn’t immediately recognise who he was.”
“You’d do well to take a moment in future, I believe,” Leofwine offered, not quite joking but not admonishing either. Regna flushed even redder if it were possible, and Leofwine waved his hand to indicate the discussion should be forgotten about. He could see his son’s face now, and it seemed more relaxed than he’d imagined it to be. Perhaps it had all been Regna after all.
“Are you watching the boundary for Earl Thorkell?” Leofwine enquired, but it seemed he’d said the wrong thing.
“ Why would the Earl need to watch his boundary?”
“I just assumed that was why you were here. I meant nothing by it,” Leofwine tried, hoping to dissipate the growing tension.
But it was Regna who moved closer to him, beckoning for Leofric to follow them as they sought a place more private and away from the rest of the men.
“Apologies my Lords, again. I take it you’ve heard the rumours about Earl Thorkell amassing troops.”
“We have yes,” Leofric responded, as Regna’s eyes closed in exasperation.
“The men I’m with have no idea why they’re with me. They think we’re just checking on a few people, a visit to Ely, maybe Peterborough Abbey as well, but Thorkell has sent me to listen and find out all I can. The rumours worry him, and I can assure you both that there’s no truth in them.”
“We were concerned enough to seek him out and ask him about them, but in all honesty, we were perplexed by them. It seems out of character for Thorkell to act in such a way. What would he gain from it?”
“Nothing and you’re not as perplexed as Thorkell is. He knows nothing about recruiting any men. He doesn’t need more. He has more than enough to maintain the peace and keep East Anglia safe. But he wants no visitors either, so I’m pleased I intercepted you. He fears that if other earls and king’s thegns seek him out, that the king will feel there’s truth in the rumours.”
“The king is aware then?” Leofric asked, but Regna shook his head, his long hair flying out to either side of his thick neck.
“Thorkell doesn’t know. He, well, I’m not used to seeing him so unsure of himself. He had hoped that the king and he had reached a mutual accord, but now he worries that someone is trying to exploit past disagreements.”
“You seem well informed?” Leofwine asked. It wasn’t an accusation, but he wanted to know how deeply the man was involved in Thorkell’s inner circle of advisors.
“Thorkell treats me as one of his sons. There were few he would trust to find out such delicate details.” All anger seemed to have drained from Regna now that he was speaking with people who discounted the rumours. Leofwine thought that was good. It showed just how worried he must have been.
“We’ll tell you all that we know, but I think you might already know it all. Suffice is to say, there is a man who claims his brother has come purposefully from Denmark to join your Uncle’s household troops, to make war against the king. I think it would be wise to seek the man out, find out who he works for.”
Regna’s eyes narrowed as he listened, his mouth forming an ‘o’ of surprise.
“I hadn’t realised that the conspiracy had legs and a mouth to walk and talk. Who was the man?”
“That’s the problem; it’s the brother of a man of Earl Hakon’s. He went to his Lord because he was worried, and Hakon sought out Leofric and asked him for advice. No one wants to inflame tensions between the king and his earls, but Hakon is also bound by his family ties to inform Cnut of what he knows.”
> “You know no further details?”
“No, other than he must be within East Anglia. Perhaps someone else is masquerading as your uncle at one of the ports. It all seems very elaborate. Someone is going to lots of trouble to cause a rift between the king and Thorkell.”
“They are,” Regna said sourly. “My uncle has a good idea who it is, but he’s powerless to move against him.”
“Because the other man is high in Cnut’s estimations and it would look as though he’s only trying to deflect from his true intentions,” Leofwine asked. He assumed they were all talking about Earl Godwine.
“Yes,” was all the response he got.
“Your men, they won’t send word of our meeting to anyone, will they?” he suddenly thought to ask, as his eye swivelled to the face of the five confused men.
“No, most of them are my sons, and while they know little about what’s happening, they know enough to keep silent.”
“Good, then I think you should return to Thorkell. Tell him of our meeting, thank him for speaking with Leofric earlier in the year and warning him of possible problems, and inform him that he needs to look for this man. I’ll try and find out more information, but that was about all Hakon knew.”
Regna nodded as he listened.
“And you, you’ll not mention this to the king?”
“I think the king needs to know when there’s proof. If you can’t find this man or any other trace of a household troop being gathered together using Thorkell’s name, then you must send a messenger to me. In these matters, it’s the ability of men to stand with others that will sway the king. Right now, Thorkell doesn’t want to isolate himself. He needs to be cautious, but not aloof; that will arouse suspicion just as much as holding meetings with all the earls, or their representatives without the king’s knowledge.”
“My thanks, Lord Leofwine, Leofric, and apologies again Leofric for my outburst. I feared … well, I feared the worse, and you bore the brunt of that. Now, I’ll go to Thorkell, tell him of what happened here. Good day.”