by M J Porter
“I know I do, Wulfstan always told me so, and so have others I’ve met on my journey’s around the Mercian lands. How do you do it father?” he asked with curiosity.
“Do what?” Leofwine asked, although he clearly knew what his son meant.
“Tolerate all this, Eadric, the king, the slights to your character. There’s not a single place that I’ve visited within the Mercian lands, or even in the Five Boroughs, when Eadric deems it time to show his face there, that doesn’t speak highly of you. Craftsmen, Reeves, even the bloody moneyers, they all take a moment to tell me how much they respect you, and by inclination don’t respect Eadric. How do you manage to continue each day when Eadric and the king only work to blacken your name and cause disquiet within the kingdom?”
Instead of brushing Northman off with a belittling comment, Leofwine took a moment to study his son, his bright flashing eyes and mobile face, the first inklings of a beard forming on his chin.
“I have a positive inner core, an absolute belief in myself that what I do and have done, is recognised by someone, by the people that matter. The king, Eadric, even myself, we’re merely figureheads for our society. At its core, it works well. Yes, there are some issues that need fixing, law and order and justice, adherence to the Christian faith, but at our heart, all of us respect each other. We want to live well, and in peace. The king, he’s trying to accomplish that. Eadric is just trying to have the cream for himself. The king doesn’t realise that.”
He paused for breath, and Northman didn’t interrupt. He was fascinated to hear his father’s innermost thoughts.
“As Wulfstan has said, and I know he's spoken to you of it as well. The king’s not an evil man, but he doesn’t like criticism, and I think he struggles to find fault with others unless it's thrust in his face. He sees good in everyone he surrounds himself with, and that makes him weak and susceptible to those who mean him harm.”
“And Eadric means him harm?”
“Yes, I think of all the ealdormen Æthelred has ever had, Eadric does indeed mean him harm. Eadric only wishes to please himself, to put bread and food on his table, and wood on his fire. The other ealdormen, especially old Ælfric, they’re just a bit incompetent. He has his strengths, don’t get me wrong, and in times of peace, he'd have been a good man. But in these troubled times, he’s not the right man for the job, and now his age goes against him.”
“The king needs men who speak their mind, who support him regardless, but who will if and when the need is apparent, tell him no.”
“So how do you cope with it all?”
“As I said, I believe that I’m working for the good of everyone. I think that the king thinks he does too, and so I overlook his slights, and his pettiness when he does attempt to exert his power. I like my role in our society. I enjoy being the ealdorman. I like having men come to me, swear their oaths to me, but I don’t abuse that power. I wouldn’t ask them to do something I didn’t believe in. I hope the king sees things the same way.”
“And Eadric, what of him?”
“I don’t know. The king is too much under his sway. It’s almost as if the king is desperate to win his favour, and it should be the other way round. I have my misgivings that the king will ever be strong enough in himself to push him away. Eadric is taking Ælfric’s place. Swiftly. Another who could be good at his role if only we weren’t under constant attack.”
“So you think Uhtred and Ulfcytel are better ealdormen?”
“I believe that they're ealdormen who can face down the enemy. They have no qualms about fighting and killing and defending their lands. They would rather shed blood than money. And at this moment in time, that’s what the king needs.”
They resumed walking along the beach then, both thinking about what had been said.
Finally, Northman broke the comfortable silence,
“The things I’ve witnessed Eadric do, they’ll not change the king’s mind?”
“No, they won’t. He’ll need to see for himself, but all the same, it’s good that you watch and listen and hopefully learn how not to be an ealdorman, husband and Lord.”
“Oh believe me,” Northman said with a mirthless chuckle, “I’m learning that in good measure.”
“Your mother misses you,” Leofwine said, changing the subject to something more pleasant. “And your sister is a hell fire with that sword you gave her.”
Northman felt his face flush a little with guilt at that, but Leofwine surprised him by laughing.
“I think it a good thing that she learns to protect herself. This country isn’t finished with the Northmen, and she may yet need to call on her skills to defend herself. And old Wulfstan agrees. He has her training with the younger boys.”
Northman was incredulous at the news,
“And mother allows it?”
“She has little choice,” Leofwine smirked, “Ealdgyth has your brother’s way with words and your way with stubbornness.”
“How does Leofric fair?” Northman asked all of a sudden remembering his brother.
“Excellent. Leofric thrives in Horic’s household. I think, and you’ll have to excuse me here Olaf for speaking so of your mother and father, that they are more demanding of Leofric than your mother, and I were, but, I think he needs so many rules and regulations.”
Olaf spluttered with amusement then, evidently recalling life with his parents.
“I would say, my Lord Leofwine, that they could be harsh on occasions, and exacting at times. In fact, as much as I dislike Eadric as a person, life in his household is far less … controlling.”
Leofwine cast an appraising look at Olaf for his words and nodded in agreement.
“Well put, even you, I fear, might be learning tact.”
Ruffling his son’s foster-brother’s hair, the small gathering rapidly deteriorated into a more friendly crowd, and not minding their dignity, they rolled in the sand, enjoying laughing without fear of being overheard or reprimanded for not being about their duties.
And that was where any enjoyment of being at the hastily convened Witan evaporated. Rumours were flying when they returned to the king’s hall and Eadric was nowhere to be seen. With a hasty goodbye, Northman and Olaf set off to find their foster-father, while Leofwine, now sombre again, entered the king’s hall to learn the truth of what had arisen.
They found Eadric fuming on the beach, with his remiss brother, and another of his brothers, Æthelwine. His face was sour with disapproval, and he’d been sent from their father. The crotchety old man was fuming from his fireside seat, or so Æthelwine informed his older brother, not without glee, only adding to Eadric’s anger. Clearly, things had not gone as well with the king as he’d hoped and assumed they would.
Luckily for the two boys, they sneaked back into the general humdrum of people without their absence being noted by anyone other than a member of the household troop, Ceolmund, who was almost their age and sympathetic to their plight. Ambling towards them, the large youth sat beside them and filled them in on all they’d missed.
“The king was angrier than I’ve ever seen him, and Eadric was just about as obnoxious as it’s possible to be. For every question the king had, Eadric reacted with a dismissive answer, and when he was tasked with single-handedly demolishing the ship-army, he reacted so violently that many thought he’d strike the king. He’s made it clear that he denies any wrong-doing, he blames his brother, but more than that, he blames Wulfnoth and has again listed his grievances against the man, as though that somehow makes his actions acceptable.”
“The king was just about puce by the end of the interview, and if Eadric had mentioned one more time that he was the king’s son by marriage, I think Æthelred would have had the marriage annulled there and then.”
“What was the outcome?”
“The king dismissed him and said he’d consult with the other ealdormen, and would have him back for a decision early tomorrow morning. What amazes me is that he didn’t even try to defend his brother’s act
ions. He thinks they were right and correct, and blames Almighty God for the summer storm. He even alluded to the king’s new coins, telling him that in issuing something so overtly religious, he’d insulted God and he was now taking his revenge.”
Olaf sucked in a sharp breath at Ceolmund’s words and Northman was shaking in head in shock. He, like Ceolmund, couldn’t believe Eadric’s reactions.
The king’s new coinage, arranged at the time that the tax was being collected for the ship army, had been a change from anything anyone had ever known. Northman knew all about it because the first moneyer he’d visited with Eadric had exclaimed at the design in shock. Never before had any image so overtly religious been used on the king’s coinage; the Lamb of God on the one side and the Dove, a symbol of peace on the other. The king’s intentions had been clear. He’d just about removed himself entirely from the coinage of his people, calling for divine intervention and more importantly, for peace.
While at the same time the recall and restriking of coins had allowed the king to exact even more tax from his people by allowing for a slightly slimmer design to the previous coins, it had also been a genuine attempt at benefitting his people and his land. Northman was almost as proud of it as if he’d had the idea himself.
Lapsing into silence, the lads watched Eadric and his brothers in furious conversation. Northman wasn’t looking forward to the next day, not at all. No matter what the king’s outcome was, he’d be travelling home with a furious Eadric, and that was not a pleasant sounding proposition.
Chapter 16
AD1009 – Leofwine – Sandwich
The king called Leofwine to him as soon as he walked out of the bright evening sunshine and into the darker hall, cooling pleasantly as the day drew to a close.
He was more composed than Leofwine had expected, at least until he’d heard the news from Northman. Then the king seemed to slump in on himself, and he dismissed Leofwine with one of his usual brusque motions that always stung, no matter how often they happened.
With Hammer at his heels, Leofwine quickly stepped outside again, finding Oscetel waiting for him. They didn’t speak; there was little need. Not until the following day would they know any more than they already did.
That night, stretched out in his tent, Leofwine thought longingly of his wife, warm and soft in his arms, until sleep finally claimed him, and when he woke the next morning, he was disappointed to find he wasn’t at home. Heavy-hearted, he rose and dressed for the day. The summer should be the time of year he loved most, but instead, he dreaded it, knowing that with the warmer weather the Raiders would come, and they were clearly not the only threat to his lands.
He found the king calm and composed and refrained from asking what his plans were, instead taking his seat on a wooden bench dragged into use around the king. It was a little damp, and Leofwine wondered where it’d come from as the water slowly seeped into his trousers making him grimace in discomfort. He thought the weather had been dry for weeks, but then he remembered the storm out at sea that had scrambled the ship army, sending half of it one way, and half of it the other. It must have struck land at Sandwich as well.
There was a reasonable turnout of attendees for the Witan. Uhtred and Ulfcytel were busy conferring in a corner, and Leofwine watched the few churchmen who were there with interest. What must they think of this state of affairs? They preached for their king and had already mentioned that to compliment the new coinage the people of the land should perform a series of penances. The king had refrained from that action, for now, hoping to unite a little profit with a little godliness. Leofwine wondered if he was pleased with the results, or cursing himself for linking profit to the scheme. Perhaps, after all, he had angered his God one time too many.
Quickly, the witan came together, Eadric striding through the door just as the king was about to speak, as though he had not a care in the world. Leofwine suppressed a grimace, Hammer nudging him on the leg at the same time. Northman had entered the room, his hound with him, and Hammer, as ever aware of the pups he’d once helped raise, was asking permission to seek the other dog out. Leofwine let him go. It was going to be a long session, he could tell. The dog would get bored at about the same time he did, but he imagined the wrangling and recriminations would continue for far longer than that.
So resolved, he shuffled his damp behind and turned to his king. Behind him, he felt a similar movement affect everyone in the room. There was a suppressed excitement, everyone who’d ever fallen foul of Eadric hoping that this time, this time, the king would banish him from their lands. It was a futile hope, but still, it was hope all the same.
The king opened the witan, his voice heavy with the responsibility to what must be done that day.
“Eadric,”
“My Lord king,” he bobbed to his feet and bowed to his master.
“You have done as I requested, I see, well almost. Where are the rest of my ships?”
“As I mentioned to you yesterday, the ship-army was devastated by the summer storm that blew up. The men,” and here he shrugged, “were too inexperienced to master their ships during the storm. If you ask around, you will see that those who have long been shipmen have survived, while those, more inexperienced men have perished.”
A gasp of outrage flooded the hall. Many had lost someone they knew, if not a family member. But before anyone could voice their anger the king held his hand up for silence.
“And this is the best excuse for what’s happened that you can bring before me?” he asked, his voice dangerously low and threatening.
“I can only give you the truth,” Eadric responded, “ask the men, call forth the captains and commanders and ask them their opinion.”
“I have Eadric, I’ve spoken to the brave men who command my ship army,” and here he laid emphasis on the ‘my’, “and they have to some extent offered an agreement of what you say. However, they have also made it clear to me that the ships should not have been away from the harbour, that they warned your brother of the storm brewing, and advised him, because they could not command the Earl of Mercia’s brother, to stay his hand for the time being.”
Eadric glanced to where his brother sat amongst the thegns at the back of the hall. This was clearly news to him, and he looked murderously at his brother. Leofwine suppressed a sigh of frustration, once more pleased that he had no brothers to call his own.
“I was unaware of that, my king. Perhaps we should call Brihtric forwards and have him offer a recounting of events?”
“No, we will not,” the king intoned. “However, you can provide an explanation as to your petty feud with Wulfnoth. I’m intrigued to know more of the basis for the initial disagreement that led your brother to act against him.”
Eadric’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Clearly, he’d not been expecting to be quizzed on that element of events.
“It was little and nothing,” he tried to dismiss the question, but the king was above diverting from his questioning.
“I am curious as to how you two came into conflict. He’s a man of the southern lands, my lands in Wessex, and yours are in Mercia. What have you cause to complain off?” he insisted. “How do you even know each other?”
“My Lord,” Eadric swallowed around the words. “It is an old family dispute.”
“They always are, and still, I would like to know more, as would everyone in this room.”
Seeing that there was no way out of the king’s questioning, Eadric began to speak; his voice purposefully kept low so that the entire assembled crowd was forced to silence and to bend forward if they wanted to hear what he said.
“As you know my Lord, Wulfnoth is a distant descendant of Athelstan, Half king, the ealdorman who once ruled East Anglia, and who was a great favourite of your ancestors.”
“Yes, I know of that. Now.”
“Because of that, he has land inherited from his forebears close to my own.”
“But your lands are on the border with the Britons, how can they be anywhere
near the lands of the Five Borough’s?”
“I perhaps used the incorrect word, my Lord. The lands are close to those that I hold directly from you, in my role as ealdorman.”
“Ah, now that makes more sense to me, as I’m sure it does to the rest of the men in the room.”
“And Wulfnoth, he incurred my displeasure, on your behalf of course, by altering the boundaries without consulting me, and by placing some of … your land, my Lord, in the hands of the local monastery.”
“And …”
“Well, my Lord, I did come to you with my concerns.”
“Yes you did, you came to me with some muddled words about a man I didn’t know much about who’d gifted land to a monastery that I already support.”
“Yes my Lord I did, and you didn’t ask me to take any action, but I couldn’t let him get away with it.” Eadric finished in a rush.
“So you complain about a man who gifts his own, or my land, to a monastery that I support anyway. When I advise against taking action, for what does it matter to me whose land it is as long as I'm happy with the gifting of it, you and your brother use this as an excuse to antagonise the man. You drive him from my expensive and newly built ship army, and then your brother takes nearly a third of my ships and chases him to … somewhere. I lose my twenty ships, on top of those that perished in the summer storm, and you somehow think that this is an acceptable price to pay for this tiny piece of land?”
The king’s summing up of the matter appeared to be accurate, and Leofwine smirked a little at Eadric’s unease. To say he’d allowed his personal enmity for the man to grow out of all proportion was an understatement so huge that Leofwine struggled to comprehend it. 'Rash' just didn’t cover it.