by M J Porter
Turning one last time, Northman waved goodbye to Halfdan and nodded towards the master-shipman. Now he just needed to get a message to his father, before Eadric made his report to the king.
Chapter 12
AD1009 – Northman – Sandwich
Northman was grinning with delight, and he knew it and couldn’t stop himself, no matter if he looked like a little child given his first wooden sword.
The view was both stunning and amazing. The entire fleet arrayed before him. To have been involved in the discussions that had made this incredible accomplishment happen was as nothing compared to actually seeing the ships, sea ready, and filled with their full compliment of men.
His jealousy had evaporated in the face of the splendour. Not that he wouldn’t have given almost anything to be on one of the ships, but he couldn’t let his own disappointment detract from the joy the men who were lucky enough to be on one of the ships were enjoying.
There was a festival feel to the air. It might well only be just past Easter but the air was warm, the breeze gentle and the sun welcoming. The sea was calm, reflecting back a pure blue and the waves were a counterpart to the cries of the excited men as they showed their skills to their king and his Witan.
The king seemed as awestruck as Northman, his gaze switching from the ealdorman or churchman he was supposed to be talking to, to the grand vista as though he couldn’t stop himself.
The king had ordered the construction of a small tented village for the inauguration of his ship’s fleet, but with the weather so fair, no one was sitting within the carefully constructed structures, and the doors flapped a little desolately in the mild breeze. Not even the queen and her young children could be contained within the tents. She sat in her royal chair, next to her husband, her children cared for by nursemaids and men of the household troop, but all of them looked seawards.
This was a great day for England. A great accomplishment. Northman knew there, and then that Æthelred would go down in the pages of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle as the most significant shipbuilding king their country had ever had. He would defend his people and his land by making use of the sea. Northman was proud to be English that day. Proud to be a part of the fantastic event.
Athelstan sought Northman out on the grassy slope they all stood upon.
“Northman, you’re well?” he began.
Northman was taken aback by his special notice and hastily swallowed his annoyed response at being disturbed from his contemplation of the fleet.
“Yes, my Lord. Thank you for asking. And you, my Lord? You’re well?”
Athelstan grinned in delight at his flustered words.
“Northman I haven’t come to spoil your day. There’s no need to be so formal with me. I thought you knew that by now.”
“With thanks, Athelstan,” Northman choked again, rolling his eyes at his inaptitude before the atheling.
Athelstan was accompanied by his brother, Edmund and Northman looked from the one to the other with a feeling of unease, despite Athelstan’s assuring words.
“We were wondering if we could speak to you about our sister, and about Eadric.”
Slightly taken aback, Northman nodded enthusiastically.
“Of course, what do you want to know?”
“Is he kind to her? Is he a good Lord?”
Narrowing his eyes a little he realised where this friendly conversation was going and at the same time made a decision. He’d not lie about his foster father, but neither would he offer platitudes.
“He can be mostly kind to her but since the birth of your nephew, she has been a little preoccupied and I don’t think that Eadric enjoys being ignored.”
Athelstan glanced at his brother. Clearly, this wasn’t news to them.
“And his people, he’s good to them?”
Northman shrugged, while Olaf shuffled on his feet beside him.
“In truth, he can be, sometimes and if it fits with him. On other occasions, he can be challenging and belligerent.”
“And the shipbuilding and the tax collection, he was happy with that?”
Northman barked a short laugh then, for no, Eadric had not been happy about anything to do with the shipbuilding. Even now, he worked to turn the king aside from his plans, even though the ships were all built and it seemed a ludicrous endeavour.
“I don’t think that Eadric enjoys being on a ship, and sadly, that, and the money paid for the ships means that he’s not a close adherent of the project.”
Athelstan raised his eyebrows at him then, and a smile touched the corner of his mouth.
“Your tact is worthy of sainthood,” he offered by way of an explanation and beside him Olaf laughed bitterly.
“His father’s best trait,” he interjected, and for a brief moment, the four of them smiled in mirth at the difficult situations Leofwine had managed so well over the years.
“Why do you ask?” Northman queried when silence had fallen.
“We hear rumours at the Witan that Eadric is unhappy with the ship army, unhappy with the king, and unhappy with his wife. While our father brushed the problems aside, we feel, Edmund and I, I mean, that more attention should be paid to these rumours. We don’t want the work of our father to be compromised by Eadric.”
“I’ve heard nothing that worries me,” Olaf muttered.
“And would you hear it, if there was something to hear?” Edmund asked pointedly.
“Eadric rarely lets us out of his sight, so I imagine we would, yes. But then, he has many brothers who could act for him and we don’t know what they think of the shipbuilding. Other than Brihtric. He’s keen to get involved and he’s been made a commander and has ships at his disposal now.”
Athelstan glanced back towards the ships gently bobbing in the calm waves as Northman spoke. He looked concerned and a little irate. Northman wondered just what they’d heard.
“If you tell me more, I can think about it. Tell me what you suspect and I’ll let you know if I’ve listened to anything that might relate to it.”
The two brothers shared a look that Northman didn’t understand. Then Athelstan spoke,
“It’s just concern for Edith and the baby. Father thinks little of her but we worry about her, as we do Wulfhilda and Ulfcytel. He tries to make his hold on the country stronger through these marriages, but we’re not so convinced that it works. We think we should be the ealdormen.”
Northman stilled at the bold statement from the brothers. He’d not considered it before but could see their viewpoint. How would he feel if his father asked the man his sister married to control some of the lands of the Hwicce and overlooked him entirely? He’d not been pleased.
“And you’re looking for a way to discredit Eadric?” Olaf quizzed, the interest in his voice clear to hear.
“Not discredit as such, but some action that the king will find difficult to overlook.”
“Eadric seems to be firmly in the king’s pocket, so I wish you luck with your endeavours.”
“Um, we know,” Edmund’s face turned down as he spoke.
“But we can hope,” Athelstan countered, his outlook on the future a little brighter.
“But Northman, don’t speak to Eadric of this. We wouldn’t want the king to find out that we’re asking questions about him. I’d rather not be censored by my father.”
“Of course, I wouldn’t speak of it anyway, and neither will Olaf.” Olaf was nodding vigorously at Northman’s words.
The two athelings walked away then, and Northman quickly dismissed them from his thoughts. Eadric was far too close to the king now for anything the king’s older sons said to make any difference. He knew that but wondered how long it’d take Athelstan and Edmund to realise.
Olaf wasn’t so quick to dismiss their conversation, and later when they’d found a space to bed down in for the night, he whispered,
“Do you think they stand a chance?”
“Who?” Northman asked sleepily. He’d forgotten the conversation already.
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“The athelings, against Eadric?” Olaf reminded him with frustration.
“Doubt it. The king does everything Eadric says.”
“Not where these ships were concerned,” Olaf countered darkly, as Northman’s eyes snapped open. Olaf was correct. The king had overruled Eadric on the building of the ship army. Perhaps, after all, the king was not quite so much in awe of Eadric as Northman had thought.
Chapter 13
AD1009 – Leofwine - The King’s Witan
Æthelred was incensed. He marched around his small chamber without pause for breath, constantly talking loudly and angrily. Leofwine was struggling to keep up with his thought processes but dared not interrupt him.
A messenger had woken him in the middle of the night, rudely demanding that the king needed to see him, as soon as possible and that sleep and night-time should not stop him from leaving immediately. Concerned and annoyed in equal measure, Leofwine had dressed and called half of his household troops to him, to serve as guard duty, and had left a sleepy Æthelflæd with a kiss and gentle caress.
The messenger had known little of the king’s immediate need. Although Leofwine had pressed him at the start of their journey, all he’d been able to offer was the news that three messengers had arrived, one after another, early the previous evening, and that he’d then been sent to find Leofwine.
The king was at Oxford, waiting for his ealdorman, and so intrigued, Leofwine had ridden as fast as he dared through the early summer night. And now, arrived, and in the presence of the king, he still wasn’t sure what the rush was about.
The king was clearly in a rage, striding backwards and forwards across the wooden floor, but until he stopped and informed Leofwine of what the problem was, there was little that Leofwine could do but watch his king.
He seemed to have lost his flush of pleasure so evident when the ship-army had been launched, and now his face was drained of all colour, and he looked as though he’d not slept for a week.
“What do you say Leofwine?” Æthelred finally asked, but Leofwine could give him no answer.
“My Lord, I don’t yet know what’s happened here? Your messenger didn’t tell me.”
Æthelred cast a look of annoyance at the closed door through which he must have imagined the messenger waited.
“Why didn’t you say anything? All this time you’ve been stood there like a mute!”
The king was vexed and infuriated. But, he stopped his pacing and sat in his chair, throwing his cloak around himself as he did so. There was a small brazier burning, but the room was filled with the chill of an early summer’s day.
“Last night I had three reports about the ship-army.”
“We’re not under attack already are we?” Leofwine interjected, before realising that he’d interrupted the king.
“No, no, nothing like that. Well, sort of. We’re not being attacked by the Northmen, but instead, the ship army seems to have turned on itself.”
“I don’t understand,” Leofwine uttered, “how could it turn on itself?”
“The commanders have argued and, according to the messengers, some of the ships have separated themselves from the remainder of the fleet.”
“Under whose command?” Leofwine asked, hoping against hope that it was no one he’d recommended for the role.
“Eadric’s brother, Brihtric.”
“Why?”
“Eadric came to me at Sandwich with rumours that the thegn who spoke up during the Witan when we decided to build the ship army had accused him of things he shouldn’t have done. Hoarding the tax for himself, being ignorant of ship building, being cruel to my daughter – you must know of what I speak. I placated him and thought nothing more of it. Wulfnoth seemed to me a good man. He has had his own ships refitted to the specifications we decreed, at cost to himself, and brought them to the inauguration at Sandwich. I just assumed that Eadric was still harbouring a grudge against him because it was he who spoke up against him. Eadric’s made no secret of his hatred for this project of ours.”
Leofwine listened without interrupting, almost fearing to know where this was going.
“I thought the matter resolved, I told Eadric to leave it alone. Wulfnoth is a good captain. He was gifted with another fifteen ships from the fleet, and everyone was happy to serve under him. I’d not even considered the problem since Easter. But Eadric’s brother has been more active in trying to seek an end to the strife. He openly accused Wulfnoth before all the other commanders of lying and trying to have his brother removed from his office. Wulfnoth did not .. react well to the accusations, levelled as they were amongst men he thinks of as his friends and family.”
Leofwine closed his eye and grimaced. He had a feeling he knew what the king would say next.
“That night he took his twenty ships and left the fleet. Just abandoned it like that, and turned his back on the lands of his people. Even now, he’s been caught raiding as far north as the Humber.”
“Raiding his own people?” Leofwine gasped in shock, “but why, they’re not even Eadric’s lands.”
“No they’re not, but he’s disguised himself as a raider and as such has been going wherever he wants.”
“And this news you kept to yourself?” Leofwine asked, annoyed at the king for trying to hush up something that involved his favourite ealdorman.
“No Leofwine, not at all,” the king almost pleaded, “I learnt all this from my messengers last night. Eadric seems to have been aware of what was happening, but it took a message from Uhtred of Northumbria for me to be made aware of it. I’ve sent messengers to you and Eadric and Ælfric in the hope that we can decide what to do next and piece together all the events.”
“Do you think that Eadric planned this?” Leofwine asked, not believing the words himself but realising that this was the conclusion the king had reached.
“I can think of no other reason for Brihtric to have made such a scene. And now, he’s taken eighty of the ships and is trying to chase Wulfnoth down.”
“On whose authority?” Leofwine demanded, standing in annoyance and frustration. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not when the king was desperate to take some action against the Raiders and the pretensions of the Danish king. His own anger built with every piece of new information he had.
“His own, but no doubt Eadric will attempt to portray it as his decision. What are we to do?” Æthelred asked plaintively, and for once, Leofwine had no ready answer. This was a disaster. Only a month ago the people of England had felt safe knowing that they’d worked hard to outfit a ship army to protect themselves during the summer season, and now that army seemed to have turned on its own people.
Wiping his hand over his face, Leofwine slumped forwards in his chair, so that he held his head in his hands while his elbows rested on his knee. He felt unable to stand any longer. His legs turned to fluid as he listened to the latest disaster to befall the king.
“We must recall them both. Get the ships back. It will be damaging morale every moment that it continues.”
“But how are we to get them back?”
“Did Uhtred not say anything further in his message? Does he not have people out looking for Wulfnoth?”
“Yes, yes he does,” the king exclaimed loudly, shuffling the three offending messages on the table before him as he spoke.
“Then you must send word of what is to happen if he should capture Wulfnoth.”
“But what should happen to him?”
“He’ll need to come to the Witan. Offer an explanation for his actions or stand trial. If he has risen against your people using the ship army, then he can be tried for treason and banished.”
“And if his actions were justified?” Æthelred countered by asking, his eyes lightening a little with delight at being able to voice his fears and thoughts.
“We won’t know until we have all the facts before us,” Leofwine commented unhappily. “And Brihtric, we’ll need to take action against him as well.”
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��I know, and Eadric too. I almost hope he doesn’t come here today. I don’t want to see his smug face as he tries to talk himself out of another situation that should never have arisen.”
Leofwine’s eyebrows raised at the king’s criticism of Eadric. He’d never heard the king utter a word against him. He’d thought that whatever hold Eadric had over the king was immovable but clearly it wasn’t.
“We need to hope that the rest of the fleet stays alert for Raiders. I can’t help feeling that this year more will come.”
Now it was Æthelred’s turn to look sharply at Leofwine,
“I’d feared the same myself. We must act so that the ship-army knows they have my full support, despite this .. unfortunate turn of events.”
“Perhaps another visit to Sandwich?” Leofwine mused aloud, “Or maybe send Athelstan or even the queen.”
“No,” Æthelred stated categorically “I'll go. These are my men, manning my ships, with money raised from my people. I'll go and show the people that the work they do is valued and needed.”
With that, Æthelred made a motion with his hand, and Leofwine felt a rush of air pass him as food and drink were brought into the small room. A loud grumble erupted from his stomach at the tempting smell of pottage and Æthelred smiled tiredly.
“Leofwine, I’ve been remiss. You were up half the night and not a morsel to eat when you arrived. Now please, eat and we'll wait and see what replies we get from the messengers.”
“I’ll be staying a few days then my Lord?”
“Yes, I’ll have need of you. Send to your family to let them know. I’d not want your wife worrying unnecessarily.”
Leofwine spent much of the day contemplating this strange turn of events. Most importantly he wondered at the motives behind the attack on Wulfnoth. Leofwine knew little about the man, other than that he’d come forward and said he agreed with the king’s decision to build a ship-army and had said the costs could be acceptable. Other than that all Leofwine knew was that he was some distant scion of the once powerful family of Athelstan, known as Half-King, a very powerful ealdorman during the reign of Edgar, over sixty years ago. The family had fallen from power and their position, but still, he’d been so successful that even now, the use of his name wasn’t without power.