by Martin Lake
Alfred did not deign to answer but glanced at Edgwulf.
‘Five hundred pounds of silver,’ he said, ‘and two hundred horses.’
Dag’s chieftains growled angrily but Dag’s face brightened and he gave a little bow. ‘At heart, Alfred of Wessex, we poor Vikings are traders. I see that you are as well and I accept the terms.’
‘And the lessons you have learned?’ Alfred asked quietly.
For a brief space Dag seemed wrong-footed; he gave an angry, suspicious look. But then he smiled. ‘Oh the lesson is obvious,’ he said. ‘It is to trust the wisdom and good sense of the King of Wessex.’
But then his eyes betrayed him by glancing towards the city walls. Ulf was right. This was the lesson he had sought to learn.
‘You shall have your horses if you leave the day you get them,’ Alfred said. ‘If you return to Wessex you will receive only housing in the cold, grey earth.’
‘You are a mighty king,’ Dag said. ‘An inspiration for my brother Hæstenn and for me.’
A NEW HONOUR
The Vikings received their horses and silver a month later and the next day they left their stockade and returned to their ships. The King and his thegns lined the river bank to make certain that they kept to their word. Saxons and Vikings were tense and edgy, hands straying to swords nervously, fearful that the other side would renege on the truce and launch an attack. But Alfred and Dag were determined that all would be as they agreed and the Vikings were soon settled on their Longships. They sailed down the Medway to the open sea, turning east towards the Isle of Sheppey where they were lost to sight.
‘Good riddance to them,’ Edgwulf said as they watched the ships disappear into the morning haze.
‘Let’s hope they leave for the continent,’ said Alfred, ‘or better yet return to their homes.’
He thanked his men for their steadfastness and trotted his horse back to the city.
The thegns followed him at their leisure, glad to be see the back of their enemies. Ulf, Holdwine and Cuthred joined the throng but Edgwulf stopped them, saying that he wished to speak with Ulf.
He waited until the others had left before he spoke again.
‘We are going to send ships to ravage the coast of East Anglia,’ Edgwulf told him.
Ulf was startled to hear this. The truce between Alfred and Guthrum had held for more than six years, an unheard-of situation. It seemed astonishing that it was all about to change.
‘As punishment for them attacking Rochester?’ Ulf ventured.
‘Yes,’ Edgwulf said. ‘They broke the peace we hammered out after Ethandun.’
Ulf hesitated. ‘I have heard men say that it was we who broke the peace first. When we attacked Lunden.’
‘I have heard the same.’ A flicker of amusement ran across Edgwulf’s face although he did not smile.
‘But no man in his right mind gives it credence any longer,’ he continued. ‘The King has proclaimed that we attacked Lunden because, as you informed us, Hrólfr and his Norsemen were hiding from justice there. Which means we broke no truce.’
Ulf nodded. If the king said this, then it was so.
Truth was a fragile, pliable thing and could easily be bended to one’s will, growing stronger with every telling. It was a difficult lesson and one he seemed to learn more with every passing year.
He felt horrified that his reporting of the presence of Hrólfr’s men had caused the peace to end. He wanted to say that the fault lay with Hrólfr and Guthrum’s brother Eohric who had sent men to the siege. Guthrum might have kept to his promise and maintained the truce. But he knew better than to suggest this and kept his peace.
‘A fleet of twenty ships will leave seven days before full moon,’ Edgwulf continued. ‘It will sail as far north as the river Yare, burning any settlements which offer easy targets. Churches, if any still remain, are not to be attacked.’
Ulf frowned. ‘Why are you telling me?’
‘Because I want you to go with the fleet. You will command one of the ships.’
Ulf gasped. Command of one of the King’s own ships. It was a great honour; an astonishing demonstration of confidence in him. He wished that his father and mother were here to witness the news. Inga and Osgar were of course, though he doubted that his brother would be happy to hear it. And he wondered how Rebekah would view him being sent on such a perilous mission.
He found out as soon as he told her.
‘I do not like this, Ulf,’ she said. ‘The Vikings are masters of the waves. What hope can you Saxons have to challenge them there?’
‘The king has made new ships, bigger than the Viking vessels. They are swift and strong.’
‘And the Saxons are novices at sea-craft. It is folly. I do not want you to go.’
‘I have no choice, the Horse-thegn has commanded me. It is a great honour.’
‘Honour is the garb of dead men.’
Ulf’s skin prickled at her words but he managed to dismiss them from his mind.
He took her hand in his. ‘I won’t be long away. And when I return we can wed.’
She seemed about to answer but decided against it.
As he had imagined, Osgar was unmoved by the news, neither enthusiastic nor scathing. Ulf found this dismissive attitude harder to take than any other reaction he might have received. It was as if his brother did not care one way or another whether he achieved glory or an early grave.
Inga was moved hardly any more. ‘Seven days before the full moon?’ was all she said. ‘Twenty days all told.’
‘What do you mean by this?’ Ulf asked.
‘Twenty days is a long time.’ And she refused to be drawn to say more.
The ships arrived at Rochester a few days later and Ulf hurried down to see which one he was to captain. It was a magnificent ship, bigger than any Viking Longship he had seen, longer and broader in beam. It had been built to the king’s own design by Frisian boat builders who claimed that it would outrun and outfight any Viking ship. There was no dragon carved on its bow, for this was a Christian craft designed to conquer all heathens.
The next few days went past in a whirl of activity. Ulf met his crew and the ship sailed up and down the river mouth for a full day to ensure that they became familiar with it. The men were more enthusiastic than skilful which made Ulf more than a little concerned. Every one of them was a seaman but they were experienced with little cogs and fishing boats, not deadly ships of war.
When he returned to Rochester he saw that he was not the only one with misgivings. The next day, although they had not been ordered to do so, every captain took his ship out once again.
They sailed around the low lying marshy islets which dotted the estuary, some coming to grief on the muddy banks, others managing to avoid such a fate. Ulf’s ship went aground once but he leapt into the water with half a dozen other men and pushed the boat into deeper water. By the end of the gruelling day his crew were more confident and more unified. He felt a huge sense of relief and looked forward to the day they would sail.
Two days later, as he was training with Holdwine just outside the east gate, he glimpsed a party of horsemen thundering over the bridge.
‘Isn’t that Ethelnoth?’ Holdwine said.
‘It is. The king summoned him the day he arrived here. I thought he’d be here long ago.’
The horsemen came to a halt at the east gate and Ethelnoth leapt from his horse and clapped Ulf on the shoulder.
‘I hear that you’ve become a great warrior here in Rochester.’
Ulf shrugged and mumbled under his breath not knowing how to answer.
‘And are you a great warrior in bed with your dark faced wench?’
Ulf coloured and Ethelnoth laughed with delight.
‘Where’s the king?’ he asked. ‘I have news from him.’
‘I’m here,’ came a cry.
Alfred hurried through the gate and embraced Ethelnoth. To Ulf’s eyes the King’s pleasure at seeing Ethelnoth was tinged with some anxiety. �
��You’ve taken your time.’
Ethelnoth sighed. ‘It was a swift ride to Hereford but a lengthy business to get the Mercian priests to divulge anything to me. Eventually they told me that Æthelred’s wife had been settled in a convent in a place called Ledbury. The abbess was more amenable to enquiry. She told me that the woman had been a nun there but died at Martinmas two years ago.’
Alfred sighed with relief and rubbed his hand across his brow. But then he paused, his mind calculating swiftly.
‘Two years ago?’ he said sharply. His shoulders slumped, his face looked both distraught and angry. ‘So Æthelred’s wife was still alive when he asked for my daughter’s hand in marriage? Still alive when I promised her to him?’
‘It appears so,’ Ethelnoth said. ‘Though it might be argued that, as a bride of Christ, she had taken a new husband.’
‘That is merely mincing words,’ Alfred said. And then he suddenly gripped Ethelnoth by his arm. ‘How did she die?’ His voice was dark with suspicion.
Ethelnoth took a deep breath. ‘She was a young woman so her death was something of a surprise. The abbess thought she had eaten rotten fish for she spent a week vomiting black bile before she died.’
‘Fish? Do you believe this?’
Ethelnoth took Alfred by the arm and lowered his voice.
‘Do you want this alliance with Mercia or not? If the abbess believes it was rotten fish which killed her, who are we to argue?’
‘But she was still alive when Æthelred asked for Aethelflaed’s hand.’
‘That is for very few to know. You, me…’ here he paused and looked at Ulf. ‘And this sharp-eared fellow.’
Ulf took a deep breath. ‘I didn’t mean to listen, my lord.’
‘What did you hear, Ulf?’ Alfred asked.
‘I heard that Ethelnoth had been to a convent and…’ He fell silent, desperate to find the right words. ‘And that the woman, a nun, died of natural causes, a few years ago.’
‘Very good,’ Ethelnoth said. ‘There’s no need to mention this to anyone, unless Alfred and I command you to tell the tale.’ Ethelnoth glanced at Alfred.
‘Very well,’ Alfred said, taking a deep breath. ‘There’s no need to tell anyone of this.’ He paused. ‘Does anyone who travelled with you know?’
‘Trust me in this, my friend. Only I spoke with the abbess.’
‘Then the marriage can go ahead. Come, Ethelnoth, let us refresh ourselves. And you Ulf, get back to practising your sea skills.’
The next morning was unusually hot for so early in the year and there was little breeze. Ulf was down at the river, supervising the loading of food onto his ship: hard baked bread, salted fish and dried meat, all which would last for several days without spoiling.
‘A dozen barrels of ale,’ said the supply master. ‘Make sure they’re guarded by a trusty man.’
He leaned against a pile of sacks and regarded Ulf shrewdly. ‘You’re young to be a ship captain,’ he said. ‘Somebody must think highly of you.’
‘I’m surprised myself,’ Ulf said. ‘I can’t believe my luck.’
‘Don’t tempt her, lad. She hearkens to anyone calling her name and she’s mighty capricious. She’ll smile on you one moment and stab you in the heart the next.’
Ulf clamped his mouth shut, not wishing to attract her attention.
He went back to work, ignoring the chuckles of the supply master. A few minutes later he heard his name being called.
Holdwine strode towards him, his face a picture of woe.
‘What’s the matter?’ Ulf cried, throwing down the sack he was holding.
‘Ill-tidings, Ulf. Edgwulf said that you are no longer to be a ship captain.’
‘What? I’m to serve under another man?’
‘Not even that. You’re not going with the ships.’
Ulf could not believe his ears. His mind ran like a hunted hare, dodging and leaping, finding nowhere to halt.
Then he heard the supply master’s voice. ‘Lady Luck,’ he said. ‘I told you she was capricious.’
Ulf swore at him and started back to the city.
‘Where are you going?’ Holdwine asked anxiously, racing to catch up with him.
‘To find Edgwulf and get him to change his mind.’
‘It’s not his fault, Ulf. He told me that the king had made the decision.’
‘If that’s the case, I’ll speak to him.’
‘You’re in a foul temper,’ Holdwine said. ‘My advice is to sleep on it or better yet, just accept it.’
‘Don’t try to stop me seeing the king.’
‘I don’t have to. He’s hunting, and Edgwulf with him.’
Ulf cursed. But he marched through the gate and into the city, heading straight to the king’s quarters.
‘I’ll wait for him here,’ he said. ‘I don’t expect you to wait with me.’
‘I’m glad,’ Holdwine said. ‘I don’t want to see you make a fool of yourself.’
He placed his hand on Ulf’s shoulder. ‘Take my counsel, Ulf. There must be good reason for the king to decide this.’
‘After I’ve been promised a ship? After everyone knows? It’s an insult.’
‘Don’t be such a fool. Swallow the insult.’
Ulf took a deep breath. ‘Don’t worry, Holdwine. I will hold my temper. But I do deserve an answer.’
He sat alone outside the king’s quarters for the rest of the day.
He went over and over all possible reasons for the decision. Was it because he was too young? Because he was intent on marrying Rebekah? Because he had enemies who had been quick to thwart him?
But eventually he came back time and again to one thing. He tried hard to dismiss it but knew in his heart it was true.
Alfred thought he was not fit to be a commander of men. His rage, his berserk nature, made him a liability, a danger to the men he captained and any mission he led.
He choked back the tears. He had been promised glory and now it had been snatched from him. He tried to console himself that he was still a thegn, a man of wealth and great honour. But no sooner had he thought it than a sudden fear seized him. Am I to lose even that? He cursed himself and his fate, heedless that any power, lady luck or the weavers of fate, might be listening. His life was useless and he felt like dust.
Finally, as the day drew to a close, he heard the clatter of hooves. Alfred, Edgwulf and Ethelnoth rode up, their faces flushed with exertion and pleasure. While Ulf had been waiting in torment they had been enjoying their hunt.
Ulf leapt to his feet. ‘I need to see you, my lord.’
‘Can it wait?’ Alfred said. ‘I’m hungry and thirsty.’
‘It can’t my lord. I need to speak now or I will never find the words.’
Alfred exchanged a perplexed glance with the others and then gestured Ulf to follow them into his quarters.
‘Have some ale, Ulf,’ he said. ‘Sit, I am listening.’
A servant poured four cups of ale. Alfred, Edgwulf and Ethelnoth drained theirs in a few gulps but Ulf sat nursing his.
‘Come, boy,’ Ethelnoth said. ‘I have a mighty hunger and it will brook no delay.’
Ulf took a deep breath. ‘I’ve been told that I’m no longer to captain a ship,’ he said. ‘I’ve been training for this for weeks now, I know my crew, they trust me and I them.
‘I deemed it a great honour, perhaps one I didn’t deserve and I know I’m young.’
He took a deep breath. He was up to his neck in it now so he might as well continue.
‘I feel aggrieved by losing this position, my lords. If I’m guilty of some failing or you no longer trust me then I think I deserve an answer.’
‘But how can you go on the ship now?’ Alfred said in surprise. ‘It’s not possible.’
Ulf felt sick to his stomach. He dreaded to hear the words spoken but he knew he must know for certain.
‘Why not, lord? What’s to prevent me?’
Alfred gave a questioning look to Edgwulf.
> ‘The message I sent Ulf said only that he was no longer to captain a ship.’ Edgwulf said. ‘I did not inform him of the other thing. I thought that you would want to.’
Alfred nodded and then gave a chuckle.
Ulf felt his stomach clench in dismay. So now it was a matter of mirth? He felt his heart pounding and his ears echoed with a rush of blood.
‘I am sorry, Ulf,’ Alfred said. ‘You cannot become a ship master now. Finish your ale and let me pour you another one.’
Ulf did as he was bidden although the ale had no taste for him.
Alfred poured him a second cup and then leaned back in his seat.
‘You can’t be a ship master because your services have been requested elsewhere. My son is of an age when he desires action and the opportunity of great deeds. I am reconciled to this. But I am not reconciled to him being in any danger.
‘So I have decided to give Edward fifty hearth warriors of his own. He was delighted when I told him but added one request. He wants you to command his warriors. I think he has made an excellent choice.’
‘So now you see,’ Edgwulf said. ‘You cannot both captain a ship and command Edward’s warriors.’
‘You have a far greater honour than as you had even as a King’s-thegn,’ Alfred said. ‘You will guard the boy who I’m determined will rule after me. It is not a position lightly given or lightly accepted. It is a heavy responsibility. The fate of the kingdom may one day lay in your hands.’
Alfred stood and drew his sword. ‘Ulf, I appoint you my son’s Horse-thegn.’
Ulf threw himself to the floor, seizing the king’s hands in his own.
‘I think that he accepts,’ said Ethelnoth drily.
Characters in Blood Enemy
Historical figures are in bold.
Ulf, a young King’s-thegn
Inga, his sister, servant to the King’s daughter
Brand, their father, a ceorl who lives on the Isle of Athelney
Hild, Brand’s wife
Holdwine, a King’s-thegn and Ulf’s best friend