Blood Enemy

by Martin Lake

Alfred took a deep breath. ‘This does not bode well.’ He seized Ketil by the arm. ‘The band of men who arrived from Guthrum. Do you know them?’

  Ketil nodded. ‘They are from East Anglia, but I do not think they were sent by Guthrum. I recognised a few of them, followers of Eohric, Guthrum’s brother.’

  ‘But not Eohric,’ Inga said in fear.

  ‘I’ve not seen him anywhere. And if he were here he would have sought to wrest control of the army from Dag. I’ve seen no sign of that.’

  Wulfric sniffed. ‘Then it’s a pity he did not come. It would have been good if the heathens had quarrelled and slaughtered each other.’

  ‘Well it seems they have left the matter to us,’ said Alfred. ‘You thought there were two or three thousand of them, Ulf?’

  ‘Yes, my lord. It’s hard to be sure.’

  ‘And how many men are in Rochester?’

  ‘Five hundred fit to bear arms.’

  ‘And we have brought a thousand more,’ said Wulfric with a smile. ‘We’re barely outnumbered.’

  ‘I doubt we could beat them in pitched battle,’ Edgwulf said. ‘But our horsemen will make them wary of leaving their stockade.’

  ‘Then we starve them out?’ said Alfred.

  ‘It is the safest course,’ Edgwulf said.

  ‘Tell me, Ulf,’ Alfred said, ‘why are there burnt-out Longships in the river?’

  ‘I set fire to them. I thought that destroying some of their ships might induce them to leave. It didn’t, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Nevertheless, it would have worried them,’ said Edgwulf. ‘And they’ll realise that we’re in a position to completely destroy their means of escape.’

  ‘But won’t that serve to make them still more desperate?’ Alfred said. ‘It might encourage them to break out and ravage Kent.’

  ‘I’m not sure they dare break out with the threat of a thousand horsemen on their trail. In any case, I suggest we don’t threaten their ships until they are starving and losing all hope.’

  Alfred nodded in agreement. ‘And how are supplies in Rochester?’ he asked.

  ‘Enough to last for another few weeks,’ Ulf said. He could not stop himself from looking with alarm at the thousand hungry warriors.

  ‘We have our own supplies,’ Edgwulf said.

  ‘A thousand waggons are coming here with food,’ Alfred said. ‘And now the siege is lifted we’ll be able to scour the land for more.’

  Then he turned to the Viking fleet, contemplating it in silence for a little while. He laughed. ‘We should take some of the enemy’s ships and get supplies from Essex.’

  ‘By force?’ Wulfric asked.

  Alfred shook his head. ‘Essex may be part of Guthrum’s kingdom for the present but the people are Saxons, our closest kin. I have a mind to win it back for Wessex.’

  Ulf grinned. The king was here and planning for more war and battle. All was right with the world once again.

  ‘You seem happy,’ Wulfric said.

  Ulf’s grin grew even wider. ‘Of course. I’m alive and Rochester has not fallen.’ He did not seek to hide his pleasure nor his pride and sense of triumph.

  Edgwulf laughed. ‘You did well, Ulf. You’re right to be proud of yourself. I am.’

  ‘As am I,’ said Alfred. ‘Let’s throw a cordon around the stockade,’ he continued. ‘And send riders to fetch food from the waggons. The people have need of it as swiftly as possible.’

  Rebekah came to Ulf’s side and hugged him.

  Edgwulf raised an eyebrow. The girl did not know how to behave in front of the king.

  ‘And what of your mission?’ Edgwulf asked. ‘What did Archbishop Ethelred say to your desire to marry?’

  ‘He agreed to it,’ Ulf said.

  ‘That’s good news,’ Edgwulf said. ‘Both marriages? You and Rebekah and Inga and Ketil?’

  Ulf readied himself to answer that, yes, the archbishop had decreed that Inga could wed the Dane. He had thought about this countless times since they left Canterbury. It would be safe enough to lie; neither Ethelred nor his bishops were here to gainsay him.

  Yet as he looked at the king, his resolve faltered. It was one thing to lie to a churchman, quite another to lie to his lord.

  ‘Well?’ Edgwulf asked. A doubtful look came to him.

  ‘The archbishop decided they cannot marry,’ Ulf said bitterly. ‘He said that Ketil is not really a Christian.’

  Alfred frowned, taken aback a little.

  His reaction gave Ulf an idea. ‘But I’m not sure that was the real reason,’ he said. His tone was questioning, as if he was revealing something he had long pondered and was uncertain how to say.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Alfred asked.

  ‘He knew that Inga is your goddaughter. I imagine he thought you wished to please her by this marriage.’

  ‘So why would that make him dispute it?’ Alfred’s voice was sharp and full of suspicion.

  Ulf shrugged. ‘I have no idea, my lord. But he refused to allow it.’

  ‘Refused?’ Alfred’s eyes narrowed. ‘I did not seek his agreement or disagreement on this matter, only his advice.’

  ‘He was most insistent in saying they must not marry.’

  Alfred’s hand clenched. ‘That is not for him to decide, but for me alone.’

  Ulf nodded furiously to hide his satisfaction at how well his ruse had worked.

  Alfred gestured Inga to approach. ‘I have decided that you and Ketil will wed,’ he told her. ‘And I shall make sure that Ketil is known throughout the kingdom as a worthy husband. I shall make him a King’s-thegn.’

  Edgwulf stepped forward, alarm apparent in his face.

  ‘That is my decision,’ Alfred said. ‘Let none dispute it.’

  Inga cried out in delight and threw her arms around the king. Then she gasped and blushed furiously. ‘I’m sorry, my lord. I shouldn’t have —’

  ‘You’re my goddaughter,’ Alfred said. ‘Of course you should embrace me.’

  Ulf cleared his throat. There was something else he had to say and, although he had no idea how he might make it palatable, he thought it best to speak now.

  ‘One more thing, my lord,’ he said. His voice was low, so faint they could hardly hear him. But then he took a deep breath and the words flew out like a hare out of hiding.

  ‘The archbishop says that Aethelflaed cannot marry the Mercian ealdorman.’

  Alfred stared at him in silence, the anger he had displayed earlier growing even stronger.

  ‘I do not recall that this question was part of your mission,’ he said.

  ‘No it wasn’t. But it came up.’

  ‘How? How did it come up?’ His voice was low and dangerous.

  ‘Well, my lord —’

  ‘It came up because I brought it up, father,’ Edward said. ‘Aethelflaed and I agreed that it would be for the best if the archbishop also gave his blessing to her marriage to Ealdorman Æthelred.’

  Alfred’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

  ‘Best if the archbishop gave his blessing?’ he said. ‘Why this change of mind on Aethelflaed’s part? She’s made it more than plain she does not wish to wed him.’

  ‘She wanted to obey your commands, father. She realised that disputing the wedding was selfish and foolish.’

  Alfred blinked. ‘Wonders never cease,’ he said. ‘I never thought to hear Aethelflaed admit to being foolish.’ But despite his words, he stared at his son with deep suspicion.

  Edward squared his shoulders and continued.

  ‘So knowing that Aethelflaed sought the archbishop’s blessing, I simply asked for it.’ He paused. ‘But he couldn’t give it father. There’s a problem.’

  ‘A problem? What problem?’

  ‘Ealdorman Æthelred has a wife.’

  Edgwulf and Wulfric exchanged glances.

  Alfred did not so much as pause. ‘She’s dead, son. Æthelred’s wife is dead.’

  ‘Not according to the Bishop of Hereford.’

  ‘The
bishop is misinformed. She’s dead, buried. Æthelred is free to marry your sister.’

  ‘But the archbishop —’

  ‘Can be excused his ignorance over this matter. I shall send a messenger to inform him of how matters lay.’

  Silence fell. Edward bit his lip in disappointment and shame.

  Alfred regarded him in silence for a little while. Then he called for writing implements and dashed off a swift message. He summoned a messenger.

  ‘Take this to Ealdorman Ethelnoth in Somerset.’

  Ulf was surprised at this.

  So was Edward. ‘I thought you were going to send a message to the archbishop, father.’

  ‘In good time, son. My own time.’

  MASTER OF WAR

  The next morning a crew of Alfred’s warriors rowed a solitary Viking Longship up-river to where it was plainly visible to Dag and his men in the stockade.

  It was set on fire.

  The next day a second ship suffered the same fate, the following day a third ship, the fourth day yet another. By the end of April only half the Viking fleet remained intact.

  Dag sent an emissary to the king.

  ‘I shall meet him tomorrow at noon,’ Alfred said. ‘At the city gate.’

  The next morning, a little after dawn, Ulf was summoned by the Horse-thegn. Edgwulf seemed distracted, with much on his mind. He did not bother with any pleasantries or welcome.

  ‘Ulf, you know this heathen better than anybody,’ he said. ‘The king desires your presence and your counsel. But one word of warning. Vikings are more slippery than eels. Dag will try to inveigle you into saying a wrong word if he can. So keep silent and speak only to the king or to me.’

  Ulf nodded.

  ‘You can speak now,’ Edgwulf said, his voice tight with exasperation. ‘Is there anything more we need to know concerning Dag?’

  ‘Only the one thing,’ Ulf said quickly, ‘which I’ve wondered since the beginning. Why is he here? All his life, he’s been at his half-brother’s side. There must be some reason Hæstenn sent him to Wessex. And I doubt it’s a reason we would wish to hear.’

  Edgwulf pondered his words for a moment, his face growing concerned. ‘Give thought to why he might have been sent, Ulf. Be outside the gate a little before noon.’ He strode away. ‘And bring your sword.’

  If Ulf was puzzled at being summoned to the meeting with the Vikings, he was even more surprised to see Ketil waiting at the gate with half a dozen King’s-thegns.

  ‘Set a thief to catch a thief,’ Ketil said. ‘I guess this is a saying that Alfred is familiar with. I was bidden to attend, to watch and to remain silent.’

  Ulf gave a wry grin. ‘You think Alfred still mistrusts you?’

  ‘Of course. Trust is a comfort for ordinary men, not for leaders.’

  He grew tense and pointed to the south.

  Dag approached with half a dozen men, the leaders of the bands who made up his army.

  Ulf scanned the fields behind him. There was no sign of any Viking warriors. Dag, it seemed, had decided to trust Alfred’s truce.

  ‘Good morning, friend Ulf,’ Dag said. ‘Have you seen wisdom at last? Have you decided to come and join me?’ He gave Ketil a black look. ‘You and this renegade Dane?’

  ‘I have merely come to exchange pleasant words with you,’ Ulf said. ‘As an old friend.’

  Dag laughed although his companions scowled.

  He took Ulf by the arm, his face now wearing a look of pretend bafflement. ‘Where is the Saxon king, Ulf?’ he asked. ‘Is he too afraid to meet with Dag?’

  Ulf smiled but did not answer. Dag released his arm and gave a loud yawn, as if the matter was of little importance.

  The sun was well past noon and Dag had begun to pace angrily back and forth when the King and his Horse-thegn appeared. They both looked resplendent in glittering armour, costly cloaks and burnished helmets.

  Dag’s eyes narrowed at the sight of them, thinking they were attempting to overawe him.

  ‘You must have gone a-Viking yourself, Alfred,’ he said. ‘How else to explain your costly raiment.’

  ‘I wear this to show you honour, Dag,’ Alfred said. ‘I wonder if I was mistaken to even bother.’

  Dag chose to ignore the cold tone.

  ‘You were not mistaken, Alfred,’ he said. ‘Of course, I would have dressed as richly as you, but I sold all my finery to buy food and ale for my followers.’ He gave an insolent grin. ‘Unlike you, it seems.’

  ‘I do not need to buy followers with bread and ale,’ Alfred said. ‘I am King of Wessex. And you are on my land.’

  Dag smiled, aware that he had got under Alfred’s skin.

  ‘Is it any wonder that I’m still here?’ Dag continued. ‘How can I leave? You’ve been burning my ships. You and this devil’s-whelp, Ulf.’

  ‘It’s fortunate for you that Ulf didn’t burn your hide,’ Edgwulf said. ‘In truth, he owed you that much.’

  ‘You’re right, Horse-thegn,’ Dag said. ‘I mistreated Ulf, as did my brother Hæstenn.’ He shrugged. ‘A family weakness, I’m afraid. Terribly violent, dreadfully vindictive.’

  ‘I did not come here to discuss your family,’ Alfred said.

  ‘Nor I yours,’ Dag said. ‘Though I know that your son is here, one born in wedlock, not your bastard. And are your nephews here I wonder? The heirs to your brother’s throne?’

  Alfred did not move, though his lips turned white with anger.

  ‘All that needs concern you,’ said Edgwulf quickly, ‘is that the king is here with an army of a thousand horsemen. And more are gathering as we speak. Three thousand men are even now marching on your camp.’

  For a split second Dag’s face betrayed anxiety. But he hid it with a deep belly laugh.

  ‘So typical of you Saxons,’ he said. ‘You need four thousand men to do battle with two thousand poor, starving Northmen.’

  ‘We do not seek battle at all,’ Alfred said quietly. ‘We wish only to rid our kingdom of your presence.’

  Dag crossed his arms, realising how weak his position had grown. To show face, he gave his most belligerent stare.

  ‘We might, perhaps, leave,’ he said. ‘At a price.’

  Edgwulf raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Ten thousand pounds of silver,’ Dag said.

  Nobody answered. It was a preposterous amount; one which Dag would never really expect to gain. Edgwulf gave a tiny, weary shake of his head.

  ‘And a thousand horses,’ Dag continued. ‘We have a mind to pay the King of the Franks a visit and his realm is wide, far wider than little Wessex.’

  Edgwulf glanced at Alfred who raised one finger.

  ‘One hundred horses,’ Edgwulf said.

  ‘Five hundred.’

  ‘Two.’

  ‘Three hundred or we stay put.’

  ‘Two hundred and the skin you walk in,’ said Edgwulf. ‘Or you can stay put and die.’

  Dag’s mouth moved into what looked like a snarl but he transformed it into a smile.

  ‘I will need to discuss this with my chieftains,’ he said. He turned and began to walk away but then paused and glanced at Ulf. ‘Do you really wish to remain with such feeble, callous men? Come and join me, and find out what true lordship means.’

  Ulf did not answer apart from forcing a yawn.

  The Vikings withdrew a hundred yards, out of earshot and bent to discuss the terms.

  Alfred gathered his own men close to him. ‘I understand the demand for money,’ he said. ‘But why so many horses? Do they intend to attack another part of Wessex and use the horses to harry us?’

  ‘If we give them a thousand steeds they might well do so,’ Edgwulf said.

  Alfred turned to Ketil. ‘And what does our friend the Dane think?’ he asked.

  ‘I agree with Edgwulf,’ Ketil answered. ‘With a thousand horses Dag could range far across your kingdom. Or it may be merely that he’s trying to wring the best he can despite his weak position.’

  ‘In that cas
e, why horses?’ Alfred said. ‘Why not ask for more treasure? Horses are hard to transport, prone to mishap. Why not more treasure?’

  He turned to Ulf. ‘’You know this man better than we do,’ he said. ‘What think you?’

  ‘I’ve never understood why he persisted in attacking Rochester for so long,’ Ulf said. An answer was beginning to form in his mind.

  ‘Hæstenn is a master of war and his brother also,’ he continued. ‘Dag wouldn’t have stayed here so long without good reason. If the brothers do plan to maraud across Francia they’ll have need of many horses. I begin to think that he sought to capture Rochester merely to trade it for mounts.’

  Edgwulf chewed on his lip. ‘There are easier places to seek to capture,’ he said. ‘Why Rochester with its high walls?’

  Ulf grabbed him by the arm. The answer had come to him as sudden as a berserk fury. ‘Of course. It’s the very strength of Rochester which made Dag attack it.’

  He took a deep breath, trying to marshal his thoughts. His words came out in a rush which he struggled to contain.

  ‘Hæstenn’s village lies not far north of the city of Paris. The city dominates the surrounding territories and guards the lands to the south. Hæstenn knows that holding Paris is essential to control of the whole Frankish kingdom. If Hæstenn can capture it he’ll be able to challenge the King of the Franks for lordship of the land.

  ‘But Paris is a daunting place to attack even for such a warrior as Hæstenn. It’s huge, my lord, and very well defended, with walls as high as Rochester’s. I think he sent Dag here to learn the best way to capture such a stronghold.’

  Alfred and Edgwulf remained silent, swiftly weighing his words.

  Then Alfred placed his hand on Ulf’s shoulder. ‘It seems that Edgwulf’s right about you,’ he said. ‘Strong arms and a shrewd mind.’

  Ulf blushed at these words of praise.

  ‘So it would be wise to give them the horses,’ Edgwulf said. ‘Enough mounts to placate them but not to endanger us.’

  ‘Two hundred,’ Alfred said. ‘I will not give him more. And five hundred pounds of silver to give him credit amongst his followers.’

  Edgwulf nodded, although he wondered if it would be enough.

  ‘They’re coming back,’ Ulf said.

  The Vikings came close and stared insolently at the King. ‘We have listened to your offer,’ Dag said, ‘and we will accept five thousand pounds of silver and three hundred horses.’