by M J Porter
The king’s palace was decked in summer greenery to celebrate the union, and many tables groaned under the weight of food. Both doors were flung wide open, and a pleasant breeze flowed through the confined space.
He sat with Eadric’s family, his foster-father’s brothers arrayed all around him, and it was there that Hammer found him. The hound had been groomed for the occasion and Northman shared the thought with him that they were both beasts trussed up waiting to be cooked.
And then he felt his father’s hand on his back and he turned with pleasure to see his mother and young sister. She smiled brightly at him, twirling her bound hair between her fingers, but his mother was the one who looked truly beautiful. An older woman she might be, but apart from the queen, she outshone everyone in the room. Even the king’s other daughters.
“You’re well son?” his father queried, having nodded in greeting to Eadric’s father and brothers.
“Yes thank you, my Lord,” he offered as an after-thought.
“Your tunic is beautifully decorated,” his father continued, and Northman hazarded a guess that he knew just how uncomfortable it truly was to wear.
“Yes, a week of solid embroidery has gone into this.”
“It befits your foster-father,” his mother offered demurely, a smile playing around her lips. She too knew how uncomfortable he would be.
“Your brother fares well with Horic, I’ve had a report from him in the last few days, and your parents send their best wishes,” Leofwine said, looking at Olaf as he spoke.
“Thank you, my Lord. Please let my mother know that I’m well and enjoying my time within Eadric’s fine household.”
Under the table, Northman pushed against Olaf’s leg. He didn’t need to overplay the part too much.
And then Eadric was amongst their midst and the conversation turned a little tenser.
“My Lord Leofwine, might I introduce you to my new wife, the king’s daughter, Edith.”
Leofwine turned to face Eadric with a pensive expression on his face that quickly morphed into a smile of joy.
“My Lord, my Lady, my congratulations. I wish you a fruitful life together.”
Eadric’s superior stance was sickening to see, his outgoing clothing a stark contrast to the more demure appearance of his parents.
Edith glanced between the two men a little uncertainly, but Æthelflæd spared her from any discomfort, by bobbing her head in deference and then exclaiming that they must speak about Northman in more detail, and away from the men. Eadric watched the pair of them walk away, back towards where a large group of royal women had converged with a predatory look on his face.
“Your boy needs some work,” he thundered so that all along the table could hear. Leofwine’s face stilled at the words of criticism.
“My apologies if he is still a little too young to be of use in your household. I’ll happily take him back until he is more acceptable to you.” His words were smooth and well placed. Northman felt a tiny flicker of hope that Eadric quickly doused.
“It’s nothing that I can’t resolve with the help of my father and royal wife.”
“As you will my Lord, but if you would like to speak to me in more private surroundings of what exactly the problem is, I’ll have a discussion with my boy.”
Eadric smirked with half his face, his eyes still on his wife, where she stood to converse with Æthelflæd, watching events play out between Eadric and Leofwine. Northman had the uncomfortable feeling that the pair spoke about him, and he wondered what his mother was saying.
“It’s of little concern to you my Lord Leofwine. I’ll mould the lad to my ways soon enough. Certainly, he’s good with a weapon, although a little stupid with his mouth.”
Mortified, Northman looked at his shoes, and it was Olaf’s turn to nudge him in support.
“He’s young. He’ll learn to hold his thoughts in check soon enough.”
“He better,” Eadric muttered, as he walked away, his eyes never leaving his wife.
Eadric’s brother stood then, Brihtric and took his place.
“Apologies my Lord, but my brother has other things on his mind today than your son and his well-being.”
“I’m sure he does, but he must learn that he’s responsible for something far more valuable to me than almost anything else in the world. A man’s son and heir are to be cherished by all who care for him.”
Brihtric conceded the point while glaring at his father. Northman had already discovered that not all the brothers accorded their father the respect he deserved. He’d been shocked at first, but had since realised that this was another way he could attempt to survive in the strange household of his foster father.
“Still, it’s also the role of the father to ensure a child is correctly taught.”
Leofwine snuck a quick glance at Northman then but quickly realised that the conversation he was involved in wasn’t really for him at all.
“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll speak with my son,” Leofwine intervened before anything else could be said, and Brihtric nodding absent-mindedly. He was torn between his scowls at his brother’s good fortune in marrying into the royal family, and at his father, who’d clearly done him some ill as a child.
Relieved to get away from the suddenly tense situation, Northman felt his father’s arm around his shoulder, and looking on the other side, saw Olaf was there too. Taking advantage of the open doorway close to them, Leofwine escorted them outside, Hammer faithfully at his father’s side.
Outside, the sun was blazing hot, and irritably Northman tugged on his tunic.
“Just take it off lads, no one will care now that the ceremony is done. Do you have other tunics with you to change into?”
“No, we travelled in this, and tonight, we’ll be travelling back in them,” Olaf groaned, tugging in vain to get the offending garment over his head.
“Then you have my sympathies,” Leofwine offered, helping the two boys in their struggles.
Oscetel had followed his father outside, and he looked bemused by the semi-naked lads.
“That bad aye?” he asked a chuckle in his voice. Neither boy answered verbally, preferring instead to cast looks of loathing his way.
Around them, servants and guests dashed to and fro, providing more food and drink when it was needed. Men of the king’s household troops lounged about in the sun, their swords holstered, sweating through their padded tunics. Not that anyone was expecting any trouble.
Indicating that they should walk towards the stream curling along the king’s lands, Northman began to speak,
“It’s not been too bad with Eadric. It’s his father who’s the menace. How’s Wulfstan?” he asked quickly, remembering his concern for the old man when he’d left.
Leofwine shrugged as he replied,
“The same as when you left. A little too old and a bit too grey, but his mind is clear.”
“You will tell me, if, or should, or when he ails?” Northman asked, realising just how worried he’d been about him.
“Of course I will never fear. But now, to you. How are you faring? Is it bearable?”
“It’s not home, that’s for sure,” Olaf spoke so darkly that Leofwine glanced a little swiftly at him, and mistimed his next step. Luckily Hammer was on hand to steady him over the uneven surface, and Olaf offered a muted apology.
“I’ll tell your mother you miss her rages and your father, his beatings.”
“I’d rather take both of those things than Eadric’s snide remarks and the sniggering from amongst his household troops. And his father, as Northman says, is a nasty piece of work.”
“But they’re kind to you?”
“They’re not unkind, but neither are they kind. They’ve decided to tolerate us, I think,” Northman said.
“And there’s been no attempts to have you speak against me?”
“Oh yes, all the time. He’s always dropping little asides into his conversations with us, but mostly, we train with the men, and we have l
ittle to do with Eadric. For all that his father is clearly a warrior, as are his brother’s, he much prefers pampering himself and having others do his work for him.”
Leofwine listened intently,
“Do you think you’ll survive the winter there?”
“Of course we will, all we need to do is avoid the old man, and I’m sure Eadric will be too busy making little Eadric’s to care much for me.”
The implied slight in his voice made Oscetel snicker behind him, and Northman turned in surprise,
“I’m sure that it’ll only be a few more years, and you’ll be thinking the same,” Oscetel remarked with a raised eyebrow.
Northman felt himself blush at the change in conversation. Apart from his mother and sister, he’d never paid the slightest bit of attention to what a woman looked like, and he had no intention of starting now. Olaf shared his embarrassment, as the two older men laughed in mirth, they both ran on, mindful that just for a little bit, they could be boys and not men in the making.
Chapter 10
Easter AD1008 – Northman
The horses blew hot air in the chill early summer air. He’d woken early from his disturbed sleep within the hastily erected tent of last night, and not wishing to disturb the other’s he shared the space with, he’d slunk out of the tent and pulled his riding tunic over his head. He’d shivered in the chill, but he was looking forward to some time alone with his thoughts and decided the cold could be borne for a few moments.
The men on guard during the night nodded in greeting but left him alone with his thoughts.
It’s been a hard few months within Eadric’s household. The arrival of the royal wife had not made it any easier, and contrary to his hopes, Eadric had been far from besotted with her. He was courteous to her and mindful of her needs, but Northman had quickly discovered that Eadric had another woman he found more to his liking, and it was to her that he went after he’d fulfilled his marriage vows to his wife. As soon as Edith had been with child, Eadric had avoided her as much as he could.
Edith had initially reacted with dismay but quickly had formed a new faction within the household, made up of those servants she’d brought with her, and also two of Eadric’s brothers and more of the servants and household troops. The conversations at night could get quite heated, and Northman had quickly learned that if he wanted any peace he needed to coast between the two parties.
Edith had stayed behind on this trip to the king’s Witan. The child she carried was due any day now, and she’d eagerly shooed both Eadric and his mistress from her home. Northman harboured the hope that she might not let Eadric back into his home when he returned.
He’d not seen his father since the wedding in the summer, although he’d had the occasional message from him, via one of the messengers who plied Eadric with information about the king’s court. The ones who were not adverse to taking the extra coin to let Northman know that his father and mother were well and that Wulfstan still lived.
Still, he was apprehensive about seeing his father again. He was aware that the last few seasons had changed him. He was a boy no more. He knew things he didn’t want to, and he’d seen things he wished he hadn’t. Eadric could be cruel when he wanted to be, not above making spectacles of unfortunates who crossed him. More than once he’d seen a whipping or an amputation. Every time he thought of the suffering of those people, he felt physically sick.
Not that Eadric wasn’t above taking payment instead of punishment. In fact, he was a little too keen to do so, and it was only the poor who suffered so harshly at his hands. Almost anyone else could save themselves if they could pay enough of a fine.
Eadric had decided to take a keen interest in Northman. He often had him eat with him, and demanded he hunt with him. Initially, the special favour had rankled, because he’d not held any illusions that it was out of the desire for his company. Instead, it just allowed Eadric the opportunity to plant more seeds of doubt into his head about how well, or not, his father had once governed the Mercian lands, and how, he Eadric, was so much better at it.
Sometimes, he wasn’t always sure he could see the truth for what it was anymore. He felt disillusioned with his father and equally disappointed with Eadric. Eadric had quickly taught Northman that Leofwine was too keen to listen, to talk and to make arrangements with the men who looked to him. Eadric was too quick to lash out, and make pitiful attempts at reconciliation later. He was too sharp with his judgements and too blinkered to look for any solution other than the one he’d devised himself.
He was also devious in his dealings with the king. Northman knew how much tax the king should be due, but Eadric bemoaned the whole process of collecting it and delivering it and then complained until the king allowed him to keep more of it than he should. And yet with those who owed him service, he was harsh and exacting, his steward a tough man to encounter with any sort of lack.
And now he was officially part of Eadric’s household troop. He’d not yet been called upon to swear an oath to him, thankfully, as he couldn’t, he was his father’s commended man. He must fight for Eadric, and see to his safety, when really, he wanted nothing more than to never see the two faced malicious man again.
In the early morning quiet, he heard the unmistakable sounds of Eadric on his mistress and bile filled his mouth. The thought of the opposite sex didn’t stir him, not as much as holding an elegant sword in his hand, and although Olaf had happily experimented with the servant women, and told tales to Northman, he still didn’t feel the urge.
At his feet, his hound wove in and out of his legs, and his horse’s, as he bent down to stroke the intelligent eyes he saw there. The hound was his one true friend, and he was pleased that Eadric took it as a given that wherever he went, his hound must come to. Clearly, his father had made the men of the court oblivious to the animal that provided him with an extra eye.
There’d been no reports of Raiders during the winter months, and Northman knew that the king was congratulating himself on finally seeing the back of them. His father, however, was planning something else entirely. Long missives between the king and Eadric had included discussions on whether the English should finally be pro-active, and raise a ship-army to defend itself. The king was unsure of the value of the project. Leofwine was adamant that it should be done immediately, and Eadric didn’t seem to care, provided he didn’t have to spend his money on it, or his efforts on organising it.
Northman thought the idea was a good one, but he wasn’t saying so to Eadric. Instead, he’d learnt to make as many little comments and remarks as he could in any conversation, leaving his company on many occasions, knowing that Eadric was pensively thinking about what he’d said. Had his foster son agreed with him as he thought he had or had he flatly rebuked his ideas?
Northman found him a strange man. He had a magnificent sword, a beautifully crafted shield, and a war axe topped with precious jewels. He never practised his sword craft, unlike his brother Brihtric, and the gems made the weapons almost worthless, the soft gold used to mount them weakening the integrity of the weapons. No wonder he never wanted to fight the Raiders for his king. Soon enough they’d have injured him and cost him a fortune, at the same time.
Behind him, the camp began to wake quickly, and in no time at all, they were all mounted and resuming their journey towards Enham. Northman had never visited Enham before, but he’d been told it was little different to any of the king’s other palaces. And at least, once he was there, he might be able to spend some time apart from Eadric.
As they journeyed that day, Eadric called Northman to his side. He didn’t speak to him, just had him ride there all day and not until they reached Enham did Northman realise why. When they crossed paths with his father, he knew that Leofwine noted the honour being done to his son, and he cursed himself for a fool. He should have somehow realised that Eadric was up to his tricks again.
Leofwine watched his son ride past him without any rancour, but it burned Northman. He was constrained by his fo
sterage with Eadric, and it didn’t sit well with him. At that moment he craved being a man in their world, able to make his own decisions and act as he knew he should. His father had, despite Eadric’s denials, taught him what he needed to know to rule men well, and he was aware that he’d be better at it than Eadric ever would.
Briefly, he saw his father that night as they ate within the king’s hall. Sadly there were too many people to make it possible for them to speak in private, and so instead, he contended himself with the presence of Hammer, and a small conversation with Oscetel, who sent his mother’s love and Wulfstan’s best wishes. It had been a cold winter, long and dark, but Wulfstan had settled himself before the fire and seemed to have moved as little as possible during that time. Not that his mouth had been still, Oscetel assured him. Between Finn and Wulfstan, Leofwine was being written an excellent piece of history about his own rule as ealdorman and his time in the Outer Islands. Northman could visualise the scene only too well, and he felt a pang that he’d missed it.
On this occasion, Horic had also allowed Leofric to attend upon his father, and Northman felt jealously swamp him as he saw his younger brother allowed to sit amongst the men, for all that his voice was still high, and he had the physique of a boy, not a man.
The talk swirling around the hall was of the king’s intentions. It was no secret that discussions had taken place about mounting a ship-army, and Northman noted, as he sat quietly amongst Eadric’s rough men that everyone there seemed to have their own opinion about what should happen when it should happen and how it should occur.
The following day, the discussions reached their height, Leofwine arguing passionately that, as eight years earlier, it was time for the king to act decisively. Eadric decried the expense, while Uhtred of Northumbria and Ulfcytel of East Anglia appeared to agree with the king, who either diplomatically, or realistically, could see the benefits of Leofwine’s suggestions.