Northman Part 1

by M J Porter

  “Yes, they are. It’s the way of the world that our sons want to replace us before our time is up.” The king spoke benignly, but his face was thoughtful.

  “And what will you give me if I do this?” Swein demanded.

  Leofwine was uncertain what to say, but Horic stepped in,

  “I’m sure my Lord Leofwine and the English king will be able to reward you handsomely once Thorkell is gone. Perhaps a small geld for your trouble, or some other priceless item you might desire.”

  A smile played around Swein’s lips then,

  “You mean I could share in the geld even though I’ve not lifted a hand to do anything in this raiding mission. Now that’s an idea I like. I’ll do as you ask. I’ll send word that I want Cnut home, after all, I’ve not seen my son in two years, and with the messenger, I’ll caution Thorkell that he overextends himself and should return having reached an accord with the English king. More than that I can’t do.” Swein shrugged as he finished speaking and Leofwine had the feeling that he was enjoying this more than he should.

  “My thanks, Swein,” Leofwine said, “You do me a great honour in coming here to speak with me, and you do me an even bigger one in taking these actions.”

  “I know Leofwine, but one day I’ll ask something similar of you. I can’t see that our interest in your lands is yet at an end.” Swein laughed as he spoke to take the sting from his words, but they both stilled in thought. There was something there, hovering on the periphery of both of their consciousnesses and neither enjoyed it.

  Business done, for the time being, Swein invited Leofwine to dine with him. On that windy beach, the king of Denmark and much of Norway, and Leofwine, the half blind ealdorman of the Hwicce spoke about their one time either ally or enemy. They laughed, and they drank, and they drank a bit more, and then, with fierce winds howling outside, they both slept where they sat. And in the morning, they went their separate ways.

  Chapter 29

  AD1011 - Northman – The King’s Court

  Northman sat beside Olaf, his leg jumping up and down with the imposed inaction. Northman elbowed him, but he didn’t stop. Rolling his eyes, Northman shuffled forward on his chair and looked around the crowded room. Where was his father? He was never late, and he never failed to attend when the king demanded, but his absence was notable and amongst the other Ealdormen, Eadric smirked with pleasure.

  His time back with Eadric had been passable, having the king’s son nearby made Eadric behave whereas before he’d have beaten and cajoled his foster-son in equal measure. The devastation that had accompanied the enemies raids had been sobering and Northman often watched Eadric, wondering what he thought about his one times ally’s inability to rein in the men he supposedly controlled.

  At the front of the Witan, Æthelred had failed to bring the meeting to order. He too was looking about desperately, and Northman hoped it was for his father, although he wasn’t sure.

  Athelstan sat deep in conversation with Edmund. Much of the decisions to be ratified here today had already been reached. This was just the opportunity for everyone to give their assent at the same time and in the same place. And that involved Leofwine.

  Ulfcytel was there, having resurfaced from the battles that had ravaged his lands the previous year, but he was scared and walked with half a limp. He cast angry glances Eadric’s way as his alleged treachery was just about the worst kept secret the length and breadth of England.

  Just then there was a disturbance at the slowly closing doorway, and Leofwine strode through, Hammer at his side as always. Northman wondered why he was so late. And then, to add to everyone’s consternation, he didn’t immediately take his seat but approached the king instead. Intrigued, Æthelred beckoned him forward, and a quick whispered conversation ensued. When it was done, Æthelred was visibly more relaxed, and Leofwine met his son’s eye steadily. Just what had his father been up to?

  But he didn’t get his answer anytime soon. Instead, the king launched into a lengthy description of the deprivations that had been inflicted upon his lands. The enemies had left almost nowhere untouched; they’d raided deep into the Mercian heartlands, along the Thames River, and to the South, near Canterbury and Sandwich and further round, to Swein’s old favourite haunt, the Isle of Wight.

  The recitation was grim hearing, but aware that the king was about to present a case for the highest geld ever yet given to the Raiders, Northman knew that the king needed to do all he could to have an agreement reached.

  Northman doubted that there was anyone in the room who’d been unaffected by the attackers. Anyone.

  The king hadn’t even mentioned the amount of the geld to be paid when voices started to shout their acceptance to its payment. The land was tired. The people beleaguered and if they had to pay for their peace, in the face of God’s evident wrath, then so be it, even if it was £46000.

  And that was it. The king again called for the fyrds to be raised, until the geld could be paid in full, but he had little more to add to the assembly of men. There was no need for words when everyone within the room, apart from the king, had seen the extent of the damage done.

  Northman was pleased that the Witan came to such a fortuitous ending. He was desperate to know of what his father and the king spoke about.

  But he was not to get his chance, for Eadric called him to him, full of petulant demands and petty wants, and Northman wondered how long the man had worked on his list. Had he spent the journey here working out how to foil Northman’s attempts to see his father, or was he just so desperate and needy that he’d not let Northman out of his sight? For all that his contempt of Eadric was well known, he was at least a known quantity for Eadric.

  So resolved, Northman stood attendance upon his foster father throughout the muted feast that followed the Witan and found himself sneaking from his bed to see his father. Leofwine, apparently aware of his son’s predicament, kept himself up late that night. Long after everyone else had sought their beds, he sat silently within the king’s hall, with no one for company but the snores of those unlucky enough not to have their own room within the palace, and his faithful hound Hammer.

  Without the need for words, Northman sat beside his father and just for a moment allowed himself to be a boy by resting his head on his father’s shoulder. He was disconcerted by how far he had to bend his neck to do so and the faint twinge of pain that the movement caused. By his side, his father laughed softly,

  “Too old now my lad, far too old for those sort of manoeuvres.”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever be too old father. That’ll be you, one day.”

  Leofwine punched him lightly on the arm as they both stared at the smouldering remains of the fire. Northman felt his father push a drinking cup into his hand, and he drank deeply of the mead. It was sweet and clear, much nicer than Eadric’s mead.

  “Mother is well?” Northman enquired, and once more Leofwine laughed softly.

  “I believe she was before I left on my journey, but it’s been two weeks now, so something may have changed, although I doubt it. She would have sent word.”

  Still, his father didn’t mention where he’d been, and sighing dramatically; Northman wondered how long his father would keep him guessing for.

  “I’ve been across the sea, to meet with Swein,” his father surprised him by saying.

  “Swein!” Northman gasped loudly, forgetting for a moment, the lateness of the night.

  “Yes, to prevail upon him to try and reason with Thorkell. The notion came to me in the winter months, and I couldn’t forget it and so made myself go.”

  “And he saw you?” Northman asked, intrigued by his father’s actions.

  “Yes, Horic found him, and he came to meet me, all in secret of course. You must not tell anyone, and I mean anyone of this. Well, apart from Olaf, he should know for it was his father who greased the wheels of the trip, as it were.”

  Northman whistled softly through his teeth at the sheer audacity of his father.

&nbs
p; “You went without the king’s blessing?”

  “Yes, I did. I knew that if I waited the king would contemplate for so long that the trip wouldn’t be possible. As it is, Denmark seems to be still steeped in winter, or at least what I saw of it was.”

  “So what did he say? Will he approach Thorkell?”

  “He says he will do what he can. He’ll try and recall the men from his fortresses, and he will advise Thorkell to take the geld and bring his son home. That is the hook he plans to use as his bait. He’s not seen Cnut for two years, and he’s going to call the boy home and have him relay his words to Thorkell. But they’re not commands. He can’t control the man as he acts independently from him. He didn’t say as much, but I think he may be a little jealous of Thorkell, and a little fearful of his growing power. His eldest son Harald said as much, very blandly.”

  Northman still couldn’t quite process the words his father was saying. He was in awe of him. After all these years to purposefully seek out a man who’d once sworn vengeance on him was a truly honourable thing to do for the good of his people. He could only wonder that none had suggested it before.

  “And mother knew you were going?” he asked as if to assure himself that his mother hadn’t lost her sharp tongue and acidic tone.

  “She did know, and she gave me a firm talking to, as you would expect. But I had to try Northman. Can you see that?”

  “Oh yes, father. But, won’t some call you a traitor for going to the Danish king after all the grief he’s caused our people?”

  “I imagine many will see it as such. I just hope that it works, and Thorkell leaves our shores. Swein had a covetous look in his eye when we spoke. I hope my assurance of a geld in exchange for his intervention will cure him of that.”

  “The king took the news well when you told him?”

  “The king is desperate. He sees his hold on the land weakening, and fears for his future and that of his children. His efforts to have God intercede have so far failed. I hope a more earthy approach may help.”

  “Goodness me father,” Northman exclaimed in a whisper, “I can’t process all that you’re telling me. It’s amazing and scary and bloody reckless all at the same time. I think you’ve spent too much time with Horic and his sons. This sort of action has their name written all over it.”

  Leofwine giggled like a boy being scolded then,

  “I can scarce believe it myself. I feel sure I’ll wake tomorrow, and it’ll all have been a dream.”

  But when they both woke the next morning, heads aching from the mead they’d consumed as they’d talked long into the night, sleeping where they sat, the king went out of his way to laud Leofwine and heap honours onto him. He didn’t mention his ealdorman’s meeting with Swein, for it was to remain a secret as Leofwine had said, but to all in the hall, it was clear that Leofwine had accomplished something monumental for their king.

  Chapter 30

  Late Summer AD1011 – Leofwine

  Time passed slowly that summer as the fyrds assembled, the ship army as well, under the control of the ealdormen, athelings and Reeves in each shire. Thorkell was approached and offered a truce and after an interminable delay, word was finally received that the Raiders would accept the geld as offered. Once more they demanded an exchange of hostages and agreed to meet later in the year when the geld was collected. Only Thorkell was not done with his raiding yet, and in the late summer, when the harvest had been gathered, and the people were busy raising the geld, he attacked Canterbury.

  After a summer of inactivity, when Leofwine had risen the highest he ever had yet in the king’s affections, the seizure of Canterbury was a blow that the king couldn’t accept with any good grace. Called to him when the Witan met at Michaelmas, Leofwine knew his interview would be about as pleasant as when Richard of Normandy had played him for a fool.

  The king, at Winchester, paced his private room fractiously.

  “My Lord,” Leofwine bowed when he entered his presence. And so he stayed for long moments before Æthelred even looked at him. A bad sign and the interview went from bad to worse from there.

  “You told me that Thorkell wouldn’t attack anyone further. You said the Danish king was going to stop him.” The king hissed the words angrily, mindful that Leofwine’s intervention was still a secret and one, in the light of recent developments, that he wanted to keep.

  “My Lord, my apologies. I understood that Swein would act so. It appears as though his gentle persuasions were inadequate.”

  “Inadequate, he’s damn near burnt Cambridge to the ground, well those bits that were still standing anyway. And none of his warriors has disbanded.”

  “No, my Lord, I’m aware of that, although the bands led by Hemming and Olaf the Stout have confined themselves to a winter barracks near London. They’re taking the food we send them and waiting for their part of the geld.”

  “I don’t want to pay them any bloody geld,” Æthelred hissed again, his eyes blazing with fury and his lips trembling with his suppressed rage.

  “Nobody wants to pay them the geld,” Leofwine hissed back, his anger getting the better of him. “We’ve built our ships, and we’ve paid the Raiders in the past and yet somehow, and forgive me my Lord for thinking that you are more than aware of the problem if we’re undermined from within there’s little that I can do on my own to stop the enemy. I am one man, not seven thousand.”

  Shocked at the words erupting from Leofwine’s mouth, Æthelred was left standing with his mouth opening and closing ineffectually.

  “Apologies my Lord,” Leofwine offered instantly. That the words were right made the apology burn on its way out.

  “Apologies for what?” Æthelred asked, his tone dangerously low. “For what you’ve just said, or for Thorkell?’

  “For Thorkell, my Lord,” Leofwine responded. He couldn't apologise for what he’d said about Eadric.

  “What of the things you imply about me?”

  “I can’t apologise for speaking the truth, can I my Lord?”

  Leofwine was amazed at his timidity and the thrill he felt in watching the king’s face turn redder and redder with anger.

  “Get out Leofwine,” the king roared, “and never show your face here again unless I command it.”

  “With pleasure my Lord. And my Lord,” he paused, turning on his way out of the door, “Likewise, don’t call on me unless it is to apologise for your impossible demands of me when you accept failure so readily from everyone you surround yourself with. In fact my Lord, I’d say that you expect the failure. Only never from me.”

  Without allowing his king and Lord to speak further, Leofwine marched from the room. Impatiently he gestured for his men to mount up, and in no time at all, they were gone from Winchester, as if they’d never been there. But the repercussions ran deep, and the king was even more unforgiving than usual.

  Chapter 31

  Shropshire Late AD1011/Early AD1012 - Northman

  There was an expectant buzz in the air that Northman somehow felt was directed at him. Called to Eadric, Northman found him smiling while he sat before his fire. Northman’s heart sank. What new treachery was this?

  “Come Northman, sit, drink and eat with me. I’ve news from the king. Excellent news in fact. Well apart from for Cambridge and the poor archbishop, Aelfheah, who’s been taken hostage. Bloody fool agreed to go if they spared the other holy men and women of Canterbury. Idiot. He should have saved himself and left the nuns and monks to their fates.”

  Northman was struggling to keep up but knew that Eadric would get to the point eventually.

  “The king has sent word to me of Thorkell’s treachery at Cambridge. He managed to steal his way inside and burn the place down and all while we were allegedly taking part in a truce, facilitated by your father. Your father is in disgrace and has retreated to Deerhurst. The king has recalled me to him, at my earliest pleasure.”

  The smugness on Eadric’s face was impossible to ignore and yet somehow; Northman did just that.
Plastering a smile on his face, he toasted his foster-father and congratulated him as he knew he wanted him to do.

  “And when will you go, Eadric?” Northman asked, not wanting to know the answer but asking the question anyway.

  “As soon as I can. I think a winter with the king will strengthen our ties. You will stay here, guard my wife and sons, ensure that there are no further problems from across the border.”

  Knowing that Eadric thought this punishment, Northman allowed himself to look disappointed and grudgingly accept the instructions of his foster-father. Once he was gone, he’d be able to send Olaf to Deerhurst and find out the truth of the matter.

  The king’s daughter looked distressed to be left out of Eadric’s plans once more, but she held her tongue. Eadric was not a gentle husband, and at least with him gone, she’d have the run of the house to herself. She was a good woman, capable and caring to all who had the misfortune to be slaves or servants within the household. Northman respected her but stayed away from her. He’d long since realised that any show of compassion and her calm façade would crumble. He couldn’t be responsible for that.

  Sadly, a storm blew up during the night, and the temperature plummeted. Northman lay awake all through the long night, listening to the wind howling and praying that it hadn’t brought snow with it. When he woke in the morning, gritty-eyed and grouchy from lack of sleep, it was to see Eadric departing in all haste back to the king. Northman sighed with relief and hoped that the snows would come quickly now. He didn’t want to see him again until the start of summer. Although, as he thought about it, he realised how dangerous that wish was. All that time alone with the king; Eadric could cause untold harm.

  Olaf was keen to visit his father and set out when they could be sure that Eadric was well and truly gone. He went alone, confident that he could travel quicker and more stealthily if he went by himself. With misgivings, Northman agreed but warned his friend that he’d never forgive him if he didn’t make it there and back in one piece.