by H A CULLEY
‘I will consider what you have said. In the meantime you may settle here under my protection for the moment; and you may operate as a merchant for now.’
The servant tugged at my sleeve to indicate that the audience was over. I nearly struck the man for his impudence but I managed to keep my temper in check. Once we had returned to the floor of the hall he was about to leave me to find the next man on his list, but I grabbed his upper arm and squeezed his feeble biceps so hard that the man squeaked in pain.
‘Don’t ever touch me again if you wish to continue to live. Where I come from, for a slave or a servant to touch a lord without permission is a crime punishable by death.’
The young man looked shaken.
‘I’m sorry, Domine,’ he stuttered in poor Latin. ‘But I’m not a servant, let alone a slave. My father is a noble; it is a great honour to be selected to serve the prince.’
I left thinking that things were done very differently here. For the first time I realised how much I already missed Northumbria.
~~~
The next four years passed uneventfully, at least for my family. Hilda and I were too much in love with one another for her to keep the silent treatment going for very long. I tried to behave towards her as normally as I could and slowly her frosty demeanour melted. We had one final heated exchange about the incident during the crossing after we’d landed and then made love passionately to celebrate our reconciliation.
We bought a place to live in on a small estate just outside Paris which resembled a small Roman villa. It was a vast improvement on our old hall as far as comfort went, but I could never bring myself to regard it as home. Octa, and later Uuffa, were accepted as students at the Monastery of Saint-Germain-des-Prés. At the age of fourteen Octa returned to the estate to start training as a warrior whilst I concentrated on building up my mercantile business. Renweard helped me on the maritime side and we prospered.
Both Hilda and I missed the boys when they left. When Octa returned he lived in the warriors’ hall with the other young men under training. Some were Angles like us, mainly the sons of the warriors who had accompanied us, but many were Franks who were keen to learn how we fought. Most left me when they were trained and joined the army of King Pipin, but a few stayed and gradually I built up my warband, funded by profits from trading.
Pipin’s brother died soon after our arrival, so that eliminated one problem for Prince Charles. I did wonder whether that would affect us as all of Austrasia and Frisia now came under his father’s rule, but we heard nothing. No doubt he had other things on his mind. Frankia was engulfed by wars on a number of fronts; it was complicated so I didn’t bother to try and understand what was going on until Pipin died and his two sons were elected by the Council of Nobles to rule Frankia jointly. It was an idea that was never going to work.
My knarr captains brought me news of what was happening in Northumbria. My shire of Islandshire had been given to a cousin of King Alchred. I hated to think of him living in my stronghold of Bebbanburg but there was little I could do about it for now. In 766 Archbishop Ecgbert died and a monk called Ethelbert was chosen by Alchred to succeed him.
Offa continued to expand Mercia’s powerbase, taking over Kent, Essex and the Kingdom of the South Saxons as vassal states. His conflict with Wessex continued, as did the raids by the Welsh on his western border, but I heard nothing more about his demand that Luncæstershire be handed over.
I had also heard rumours that Alchred and Ethelbert were planning to send missionaries to pagan Germania, but it wasn’t until King Charles sent for me that I discovered more. Thankfully he was in Paris on a visit and so I was spared the long journey to Aix-la-Chapelle.
This time I was conducted into a private chamber off the main hall rather than have to suffer the indignity of waiting in line for an audience. The room was warm, heated by a brazier in one corner, with wall hangings to take the chill off the stone walls.
Charles sat behind a table littered with scrolls. He waved me into the chair on the other side of the table and as I sat down I saw that the scrolls were all maps.
‘How many men do you have now?’
‘Warriors? Just over a hundred and twenty in my warband and another eighteen being trained. I also have enough sailors to crew my four knarrs and to helm and handle the sails on my four birlinns.’
I had built three more ships over the past four years and now each knarr was routinely accompanied by a birlinn. It was enough to warn off pirates and the like, especially as the knarrs and their escorts usually travelled in pairs if venturing into dangerous waters.
‘I see. And how many men can you carry in your knarrs?’
‘More than I have.’
‘How many?’ he asked again, impatiently.
‘Each of my knarrs can probably carry forty men for a short voyage. I could probably squeeze another ten warriors into each of my birlinns. Another two hundred in addition to my own men.’
‘I see. That’s probably enough for what I have planned.’
‘Of course, you could always hire some of the coastal trading galleys you Franks use: that is if your aim is to invade Frisia.’
He looked at me sharply. He was presumably under the misapprehension that no-one knew that his brother, Carloman, had escaped from the stronghold in Burgundy, where Charles had imprisoned him, and had taken refuge in Frisia, the one kingdom in the Frankish Domain which had remained loyal to him. Frisia lay along the coast to the north of Austrasia and it was not unreasonable for me to think that our conversation was leading in that direction.
‘You are more astute than I gave you credit for. You should know that Alchred has written to me several times asking me to either return you to Northumbria to face trial or to send him your head. I think that the fact that I have let you and your family live here in freedom, and allowed you to prosper as a merchant, is a favour that deserves one in return.’
‘What favour would that be, Domine?’ I asked with some trepidation.
‘I want you to go to Marienhafe in Brokmerland, where Carloman is reputed to be living and kill him for me. Mind you it mustn’t look like an assassination. I don’t want people accusing me of fratricide.’
‘That’s a very tall order, Domine. Killing him might be accomplished without too much of a problem, but making it look accidental might be difficult, very difficult.’
‘Why? I suggest you attack the place looking like English raiders and kill him during the fight. What’s the problem with that?’
‘Very well, Domine. It will take me time to gather my ships together. I will also need to buy or get more of our style of helmets and shields made for your soldiers. I can probably have everything ready by next spring.’
‘I had hoped you could leave earlier than that, but it will have to do. I’ll send one of my agents to you. He’s a Frisian so he can spy out the defences of Marienhafe for you. The extra men will report to you at the beginning of March. Be ready by then. Oh, you can take your brother Renweard with you and your elder son, but leave the rest of your family here.’
I stiffened in anger. He obviously didn’t trust me to do as he asked and wanted hostages to make sure I didn’t abscond. I was about to say something unwise when he pushed one of the maps towards me so that I could see it.
‘When you have done that I want you to find out what’s happening in Saxony. I hear that Alchred has sent Northumbrian missionaries to convert the pagans living there to Christianity. Saxony is in my sphere of interest, not his. Find out what’s going on and report back to me.’
Chapter Nine – Frisia
Summer 771
Much against his will, I persuaded Renweard to stay behind in Paris to look after my family and our business, although there wasn’t much trading he could do until the ships returned. He said that he would try to rent cargo space on other merchants’ knarrs, but we were all in competition so I wasn’t too sanguine about that. At least he could go on recruiting boys to train as warriors so that we could, at
least, replace our losses – hopefully - when I returned.
Uuffa was nearly seventeen by the time I set out and pleaded to be allowed to accompany me. He was a promising warrior and I was tempted to take him, but two things stopped me. King Charles wouldn’t agree, even when I pointed out that my brother was now staying, and the fact that Hilda would have killed me had I taken both her sons on such a perilous mission.
‘You’re forty seven. It’s time you took things easy instead of wandering off to play the hero,’ she chided me one night. ‘Let Renweard go.’
‘I don’t suppose that his wife would thank you for your suggestion.’
‘Hah! I think she regrets marrying Renweard. You must know that he only wed her to get his hands on the vill. From what she tells me they have never made love.’
This came as a complete surprise to me. I had imagined that they had no children because she was barren. I thought about this. Hilda and I didn’t cavort in bed as much as we had done when we were younger, but the thought that my brother just wasn’t interested came as a shock.
‘Has he never? Are you sure?’
‘It would appear not. She suspects the reason but she has no proof.’
‘What does she suspect?’
Hilda looked uncomfortable and I knew that she regretted saying as much as she had.
‘I can’t say.’
No matter how much I badgered her she remained adamant that she would not break a confidence. With that I had to be satisfied for now, but it nagged away at me. I had to know what my brother’s secret was. We had always been close and I had never suspected that he didn’t like women. For a moment I wondered if he had a clandestine passion for other men, or perhaps boys. I knew such relationships existed, although they were always kept secret, but I was certain that wasn’t Renweard’s vice.
The problem kept troubling me until eventually I realised what it could be. My brother wasn’t unwilling, he was incapable of making love. I knew that there were men who had this difficulty. If it became known they were often teased and given the nickname soft sword. That had to be Renweard’s problem. I felt for him, but it wasn’t something I could ever talk to him about. It would ruin our close relationship if I queried his virility as a man. I put the matter out of my mind and concentrated on the task in hand.
A fleet of eight ships was always going to evince interest and we hadn’t gone much beyond the mouth of the River Seine before a knarr crossing from somewhere on the South Saxon coast saw us and scuttled back whence it had come. By the time we reached the narrows between Kent and the western tip of Austrasia three warships had come out of Dover to inspect us, but they gave us a wide berth.
Being on board with my son gave Octa and me time to talk and get to know each other again. We had been close until he went away to be educated and then, when he returned, he spent his time with the other young warriors. I learned one thing which surprised me. Uuffa was not happy with his lot in life.
‘Whilst Uncle Renweard seems content to be your deputy, Uuffa is ambitious,’ he told me as we continued east along the coast of Austrasia. ‘He wants to make a name for himself; being number four in the family pecking order is never going to be enough for him.’
I thought about what Octa had said as a group of islands appeared off our beam as we turned north. We were now in Frisian waters. The wind was coming from the north east and so we had to get the sails down and start to row. In any case it was time to slip below the horizon until dark.
My mind returned to the problem of Uuffa. I didn’t want to lose him to the service of some mercenary captain or even to serve King Charles, but what could I offer him. Renweard was effectively my partner in our business and I intended to make Octa the captain of my warband soon. Cerdic was getting old and proposed to settle down in Paris for good. Then I had an idea. The captain of this birlinn was also in his fifties. Perhaps he could teach Uuffa what he knew and my son could take over from him.
Happy that I had reached a solution to the problem – hopefully – I began to think again about my strategy for eliminating King Carloman.
~~~
Leaving the rest of the fleet hidden to the north of one of the low-lying, sandy islands that lay offshore, I took the smallest of my knarrs and sailed towards Marienhafe. The sea was calm with just a few little waves lapping against the hull as we progressed slowly over the blue sea under a sky with scarcely a cloud to break the bright sunshine. The wind was coming from the east, which was a relief because it meant that we wouldn’t have to tack on the return journey.
I took Charles’ agent and Anarawd with me on the knarr. I distrusted the Frisian spy, whose name was Bavo and so, when I set him ashore to study the place’s defences in more detail, I sent Anarawd with him.
From what I could see at a distance the port had a single jetty with several knarrs and smaller trading vessels tied to it, a few warehouses behind the jetty and a timber built church on a knoll behind them. A dozen fishing boats were beached on the sand beside the jetty. I could also see a few roofs either side of the church so doubtless these huts housed the fishermen and those employed at the port. There were three more substantial dwellings which presumably belonged to merchants.
A mile or so behind the port I could see a palisade on top of a low rise in the flat landscape. There were two towers either side of the main gate and the roof of what I presumed was a hall inside the compound. The palisade didn’t look that high, perhaps ten or twelve feet?
Nothing was moving in or out of the port and the only activity I could see was one of the knarrs being loaded. Satisfied that I had gleaned as much as I could from the seaward side, we went about and sailed back to join the others.
~~~
‘What happened?’ I asked Bavo when they returned from their reconnaissance mission.
I had glanced at Anarawd when the two had entered the canopy erected over the aft deck to give me some privacy whilst we were at anchor. He had shaken his head imperceptibly to indicate that nothing untoward had occurred whilst the two of them were ashore.
‘We landed on the beach to the north of Marienhafe and were unobserved as far as I could tell.’
He looked at Anarawd for confirmation, who nodded.
‘We made our way into the port and found a place to grab some sleep until it was light. As you suspected, lord, the port has no defences apart from a small watch who patrol the streets at night and guard the jetty during the day. As far as we could see their main duty is to assess the value of every cargo that’s landed or loaded and levy a tax on it. One knarr departed and another came in whilst we were there.’
‘Did no-one question your presence?’
‘No, lord. There was the odd beggar trying to cadge a coin and the odd boy offering his sister to pleasure the sailors, so I pretended to be one of the beggars with my mute brother.’
I looked a little sceptical. Anarawd was a blond haired, muscular youth whilst Bavo was small, skinny and dark haired. He reminded me of an undernourished rat.
‘I said that we had different mothers,’ he explained. ‘Anyway, we waited until midday and went to a tavern for some bread and cheese. I listened to the chatter but there was nothing much of interest. A few mentioned the strange knarr that had sailed towards the port yesterday and then sailed away again but the general consensus was that it had a stupid captain who was lost. A few commented that he would be lucky not to get stranded on the numerous sandbanks that littered the sea offshore.’
That was more than useful, it was vital information. We would obviously have to sound the bottom as we made our way inshore. I began to revise my opinion of Bavo. He looked at Anarawd who continued the report.
‘We left the town by the only road out which took us close to the fortress. We tried not to seem too interested in it as we walked past but between us we managed to get a pretty good ideas of the defences. The palisade is about twice the height of a man but it is on top of a rampart of earth some four feet high with a ditch in front of it which i
s about the same depth.’
That was disappointing news. I had hoped to use ladders to scale the palisade.
‘The gatehouse appears to be strongly defended,’ he went on. ‘The gates are kept closed unless someone wants to enter or leave and the two watchtowers either side of the gate are manned by two men in each.’
‘Is that the only means of access?’ I asked.
‘No, there is a small postern gate on the west side; the side that the road passes the fortress. There may be one on the east as well, but I doubt it as there is no road or path there. There wasn’t one on the north side.’
‘Do you know if the postern is kept locked?’
‘Perhaps not. There was someone walking ahead of us who turned off onto the path leading to the postern and he opened it and went inside without having to wait.’
‘Did you form any estimate as to numbers in the garrison?’
This time it was Bavo who answered.
‘We could see the roofs of various buildings poking up over the top of the palisade. The one in the centre, the largest, is probably King Carloman’s hall. We could only see the gable ends and they were built of dressed stone. There was another, larger wooden hall near the main gate, presumably where his unmarried soldiers live. I counted eighteen other buildings. Of course that would include stores, stables and so on but, from the number of huts and size of the second hall I wouldn’t have thought that the garrison could number more than a hundred, probably less.’
‘Thank you, you’ve done well – both of you.’
I gave them each a small pouch of silver coins and they bowed and left.
The most likely way in seemed to be via the postern gate, but I couldn’t see how we could reach it with enough men to capture it and keep the main gates open long enough for my main force to reach it. I puzzled over the problem for the rest of the day and was no nearer a solution when night fell.