by M J Porter
Chapter 49
Christmas Day AD1013 – Leofwine – London
The Coronation was accomplished, the feast in full swing, and Leofwine was more than a little giddy with the excellent wine his new king was serving to him.
Just as inebriated as Leofwine, Swein and he were roaring with laughter and chuckling loudly at the conversation flowing between them, as if they’d been boyhood friends, and not at all violent enemies and then grudging acquaintances and then, perhaps, almost friends.
Cnut stonily watched as they imbibed and Leofwine wondered why he didn’t relax his guard at all. He abstained from the mead and the wine, preferring instead, plain water, boiled to purify it.
“You know Leofwine,” Swein swigged drunkenly from his beautiful golden cup, slopping his wine down his well-made tunic and being oblivious of it all at the same time.
“Yes, my Lord Swein,” Leofwine slurred happily, his eye almost entirely closed in sleep, so much alcohol sloshed around his body.
“It was you who gave me the idea to invade England you know, and that it why I’ve spared you any retributions.”
Leofwine’s eye shot open at that admission, looking around desperately to ensure that no one else heard it.
“If you hadn’t come to me and asked for my help, I’d never have had the thought.”
“I don’t quite follow,” Leofwine breathed out, relieved that it didn’t seem to be his fault as such, just that he’d somehow sparked the idea.
“Forty-eight thousand pounds in weight,” Swein slurred, as Leofwine watched him carefully, “is a bloody huge amount of money to pay a little runt like Thorkell. You only gave me £30000, and I’m an ordained king.”
Leofwine could hazard a guess where this way going,
“And then you only paid me a further £5000 even though I recalled my son and my men. Honestly Leofwine, I was a little angry at being treated so poorly.”
“My apologies my Lord,” Leofwine uttered, trying and failing to get the cheer back into his voice.
“Ah, it's not your fault. It’s your tight-fisted king. If he’s sent me £15000 I might have stayed at home, but no. A measly £5000 and I felt I should come and see for myself the great riches that England had to offer, and while doing so, I thought, why not take the crown as well. That way, I can have as much money as I want.” The king swallowed another mouthful of wine and looked out at those before him, his head swaying from side to side.
“Look at them all, desperate to have a king with some backbone and one who doesn’t let that weasel Eadric do as he pleases.”
“Perhaps if you’d asked for more, I could have arranged for a bigger geld as a thank you for your actions,” Leofwine suggested, but Swein waved his words aside.
“It’s no matter now. I got my £5000, and now I’ll have much more, and as I say, I’ll get more as and when I need it.”
Leofwine paused for a moment but realised there was little else he could say.
“Then I’m pleased I was of assistance to you.”
“As am I,” Swein quipped back, his eyes now thoroughly glassed over, slumped in his regal chair. Leofwine wanted to laugh at his strange position but realised that he looked little different.
Figures materialised around them, and Leofwine understood that Swein was being removed from the front of the royal hall, where he soundly slept, so confident in his new kingship that he could sleep in front of all those assembled, even when he suspected there were traitors amongst them.
Leofwine watched the activity without concern or interest. He’d seen enough men in this predicament to give it no thought.
The king was picked up and carried away by four huge shipmen, who lay him flat between their outstretched arms. As they did so, Leofwine saw a flash of red and his heart sank while he leapt to his feet and covered the telltale weeping wound that streaked the king’s stomach. The rumours appeared to be correct. Their new king carried a stomach wound of the worst kind. It was a wonder he’d lived this long to have himself declared king.
Suddenly sober, Leofwine walked away with the men, his mind in turmoil.
Chapter 50
February AD1014 – Northman - Deerhurst
Although the work of the king and his court continued apace in London, Northman had been allowed to return home to see his wife and son. He rode in anticipation of a night in his wife’s arms and a bouncing baby boy in his arms, and he wasn’t to be disappointed.
Although the day was grey and grim, they made fast progress on the hard packed ground, the horses as keen to be away from the confines of London as the riders.
He and Olaf laughed and joked throughout the journey. The land seemed to be at peace. No one met them with angry faces or any weapon they could hold, wondering whether they were Viking Raiders or Englishmen. No, the few faces they encountered were open and smiled, happy even though the winter was persisting in its length and coldness. The sun was a shadow of its summer self, there but barely.
Leofwine hadn’t left the king’s side, and Northman knew his mother would be disappointed that he’d not come. His excuse had been ethereal and insubstantial, but Northman hadn’t been concerned or listening. He just wanted to be home, and now.
Riding into his father’s forecourt, he was greeted by the most welcome sight a man could wish to see, Mildryth stood in the doorway, his son upon her hips, but more importantly, apparently very close to birthing another child for him.
His face sparkling with joy, he swept them both into his arms, his joy complete and his annoyance that his wife, brother and father had kept the news from him for so long, completely forgotten. What did it matter?
His son was a huge weight in his arms now, as he pulled at his father’s hair and beard and grabbed his nose with a chubby hand. Northman smiled and laughed, overjoyed to see everyone within his family’s home. His mother was sat before the fire, she and his sister working together on some intricate embroidery. His younger brothers, apart from Leofric who’d remained with his father, deep in conversation with the men of the household troop, and the assortment of dogs in various stages of rest and play about the fire.
He breathed deeply of the earthy smells of home, and he breathed deeply of Mildryth, safe in his arms, unlike her uncle, who still fought for his place at Swein’s court.
And yet with all that joy, he felt the absence of Wulfstan and much later, when most were ensconced in their beds, he found himself sat on a stool before Wulfstan’s chair. He’d not noticed anyone sitting within it all day and wondered if it was there as a reminder of Wulfstan only. Was it still referred to as his chair? Was it waiting for him in vain to return? Northman didn’t know, but he hazarded a guess that he might be right to assume so.
It comforted him anyway, making it feel as though Wulfstan still sat and watched the household at work, offering words of encouragement or censure as he thought best. His father had, now that they’d reconciled, broken down in distress at the events of the day of Wulfstan’s death and Northman had finally realised how totally bewildered he’d been by it all. It made him wonder how he’d feel on the day that his father died, an unpleasant thought and yet it had made him realise that he and his father shared a special bond, no matter their years apart. In a complicated way, it had brought them closer together.
With his mead cup in his hand, he stroked the side of the chair, enjoying the peace and quiet, aware he couldn’t have quite the reunion with his wife he’d hoped for, and so doing his best to stay away from her bedside. The temptation would prove too much for him.
The silence made him a little whimsical, a little sad, lulling him to close his eyes and sleep as he was. It would be nice to sleep and wake in his childhood home. He’d hoped to leave Deerhurst and travel to his new lands, gifted by the previous king, but in light of the new king and his wife’s pregnancy, he was reconsidering his decision. Perhaps he could stay here a little longer, let his mother pamper his wife and the new baby. Stay as far away from any of Eadric’s adherents or Cnut’s
new ones in the former Mercian lands.
A smile graced his face. The thought of a little bit of peace cheered him.
A loud commotion outside startled him awake, his head bouncing on the arm of Wulfstan’s chair with a great force that sent a shock of pain reverberating down the left side of his face.
Rising he started towards the door but was met half way by a flurry of chill air, blowing wind, and his brother Leofric.
He gasped out loud, his head throbbing painfully, his hand gingerly probing it for signs of injury.
He glanced at his brother in shock as his vision cleared.
“Swein’s dead,” Leofric announced.
Cast of Characters
Leofwine’s Family
Leofwine, Ealdorman of the Hwicce
Æthelflæd, his wife
Northman, his oldest son born 996
Leofric, his son born 998
Ealdgyth, his daughter born 1000
Godwine, his son born 1002
Eadwine, his son born 1006
Misc
Burghed (Athelstan’s warrior)
Thurcetel (Ulfcytel’s ally)
Ordulf (East Anglian thegn)
Morcar (Mercian thegn)
Sigeforth (Mercian thegn)
King
Æthelred II
The Royal court
Athelstan (the king’s son with his first wife)
Edmund (the king’s son with his first wife)
Eadwig (the king’s son with his first wife)
Emma (King’s second wife – renamed from Ælfgifu – mother of Edward and Alfred)
Wulfhilda – king’s daughter – marries Ulfcytel of East Anglia in AD1004
Ealdorman Eadric’s household
Edith, his wife. The king’s daughter by his first wife
Æthelric (his father)
Brihtric (his brother)
Ælfric (his brother)
Goda (his brother)
Æthelwine, Æthelweard and Æthelmær (his brothers)
Mildryth (his niece)
Ealdormen
Ælfric of Hampshire (Kent, Sussex, Surrey and Berkshire and Wiltshire)
Leofwine (of the Hwicce)
Eadric (of the Mercians) (marries Edith in AD1007 – the king’s daughter)
Ulfcytel of the East Angles (from 1004 marries Wulfhilda – the king’s daughter)
Uhtred of Northumbria (marries Ælfgifu – the king’s daughter)
Leofwine’s Household
Wulfstan (commended man and war leader)
Horic (commended man and second in command) his wife, Agata
Oscetel (part of the warband/household troop)
Lyfing (part of the warband/household troop)
Brithnoth (part of the warband/household troop)
Hammer (Leofwine’s hound)
Raiders and kings
Thorkell the Tall, king Swein’s commander
Hemming, Thorkell’s brother
Cnut, king Swein’s son by his second wife?
Olaf Tryggvason (King of Norway dies c.1000)
Swein (King of Denmark and Norway)
Harald his son and regent in Denmark
Duke Richard II of Normandy (Emma’s brother)
Historical Information
Slowly, but surely, the Earl of Mercia is stepping from almost total obscurity to some ‘historically’ attested facts. That these relate more to the other characters than Northman and Leofwine makes weaving their narrative both more intriguing and more difficult.
The Anglo Saxon Chronicle appears almost full for some of the years from 1007-1013, well that is until you look for the detail needed to create a complete story.
So for instance in AD1007, £30000 was paid to the Raiders, and Eadric made ealdorman of Mercia.
In AD1008 the king decided to build his ships, one warship from every 310 hides and a helmet and mailcoat from every 8.
In AD1009 we are told of the ships being built and brought together at Sandwich and we’re also told of the argument between Eadric’s brother and Wulfnoth and of the total disarray that resulted. We’re then told of Thorkell’s arrival and the places they raided and the king’s efforts to banish the Raiders.
In AD1010 we’re told of Thorkell’s attack on Ipswich and many other places.
In AD1011 we’re told of the arrangement to pay the geld and the continuing raiding and of the archbishop’s murder.
In AD1012 we’re told of the archbishop’s martyrdom and of the 45 ships switching their allegiance to Æthelred.
In AD1013 we’re told of Swein’s crowning and subsequent death.
The bias of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle and its later compilation does, more than likely, mean that events that might have been of little significance are accorded greater merit than they might deserve. It’s a fantastically intriguing puzzle to unravel.
To augment that knowledge, there’s also the details of who was signing charters and when. This isn’t a complete source as there are a few years when no charters are signed and there aren’t actually all that many, only eight charters remain in total from 1007, 1009, 1012 and 1013. Once more, a tantalising glimpse, nothing more.
One of the greatest historians of the Anglo-Saxon period has commented that Eadric gets blamed for everything, almost regardless of whether it was his fault or not, and yet, Æthelred still has the by name, the Unready, a play on his name Æthelred which means ‘wise counsel’ while ‘Unraed’ means ‘no counsel’ but has come down to us as Unready. Were both men incompetent? It’s not that easy to decide, and one things for sure, they both ruled during years when the English were almost beleaguered by the Raiders.
As to how many ships might have been raised if one was paid for by every three hundred and ten hides, well, it’s actually not that easy to work out, and I hope that someone can give me an answer. As famous as Domesday Book is, I can’t yet find the details of how many hides were assessed in total (I think mainly because no historian will fully commit). The earlier source, the Tribal Hideage, again not an easy source, seems to imply there were 244000 hides which would have made over 800 ships possible. I think a slightly fuzzier interpretation is better!
Meet the Author
M J Porter is an author of fantasy (viking age/dragon themed) and historical fiction (Anglo-Saxon, Vikings and the British Isles as a whole before the Norman Conquest), born in the old Mercian kingdom at some point since the end of Anglo-Saxon England. I write A LOT. You've been warned! Find me at https://mjporterauthor.com and @coloursofunison on twitter.
Books by M J Porter (in series reading order)
Gods and kings Series (seventh century Britain)
Pagan Warrior
Pagan King
Warrior King
The Lady of Mercia’s Daughter (AD918)
Kingmaker (tenth century England)
Chronicles of the English (tenth century Britain)
Brunanburh
Of Kings and Half-Kings
The Second English King
The Mercian Brexit (can be read as a prequel to The First queen of England)
The First queen of England (can be read as a prequel to The Earls of Mercia) Audio book available
The First queen of England Part 2 Audio book available
The First queen of England Part 3
The King’s Mother (can be read as a sequel to The First queen, or a prequel to The Earls of Mercia series)
The queen Dowager
Once A queen
The Earls of Mercia
Viking Sword Ebook/The Earl of Mercia’s Father Paperback (Second edition)
Viking Enemy Ebook/The Danish King’s Enemy Paperback (Second edition)
Swein: The Danish King
Northman Part 1
Northman Part 2
Cnut: The Conqueror
Wulfstan: An Anglo-Saxon Thegn
The King’s Earl
The Earl of Mercia
The English Earl
The Earl’s King
; Viking King (coming soon)
The Dragon of Unison (fantasy based on Viking Age Iceland)
Hidden Dragon
Dragon Gone
Dragon Alone
Dragon Ally
Dragon Lost
Dragon Bond
As JE Porter
The Innkeeper