by H A CULLEY
However, I did have one piece of luck. Amongst the crew of one of my knarrs was a sailor who had been the helmsman on another ship which had traded between Geestendorf and Lundenwic before he joined us. I gather he had fallen out with his captain and had been stranded in Paris. His misfortune was my gain. He didn’t know exactly where it lay but he did say that he would recognise the mouth of the Weser when we came to it.
Two hours after hoisting the sail we sighted another low lying island to the south of us. Our pilot got excited and told me that we should turn after we passed it and head south-east. Night was only a few hours away and I was doubtful of reaching a safe anchorage before dusk. Nevertheless, I did as he suggested.
Now we were on a broad reach and the birlinn flew along before the wind. My other two ships kept close station on us and two and a half hours after passing the last island we saw the mouth of the river ahead of us. There were a number of small islands that littered the estuary and I could see reeds growing around many of them; a sure sign of marshland. Our pilot told us that Geestendorf lay on a small island near the east bank and had its approach marked by sticks stuck in the mud to show the deep water channel; not that it needed to be that deep as our birlinns didn’t draw more than four feet.
An hour later we tied up alongside the wooden jetty where there were several knarrs already moored. As I stepped ashore a rotund little man in a red tunic and brown trousers came strutting along the jetty accompanied by four armed men. The latter were indistinguishable from my own warriors, except none wore a byrnie and their helmets looked cheaply made.
Octa and several of my men picked up their spears and shields and came to join me. None wore armour as only a fool would try to sail wearing chainmail and a helmet. Still, they had the look of men who knew their business and both the official and his escort looked nervous. I told my men to put down their weapons and, accompanied only by my son, I walked towards the small, fat man with a smile on my face.
‘Greetings,’ I said warmly. ‘We are Northumbrians come to visit Father Willihad. I trust he is well?’
‘You mean the Christian troublemaker? Yes, he is well as far as I know. He lives in Bremen, not here though.’
His eyes narrowed in suspicion.
‘Why have you come in such strength? Have you come to make trouble? If you and Willihad think you can convert us Saxons by force you are sadly mistaken.’
‘No, not at all. The sea crossing is not always safe. There are Mercian pirates and Frisian ones too. It is better to be safe than sorry.’
‘I see,’ he said doubtfully. ‘Well, you can stay here overnight but there is a fee to do so, and if your men make trouble in the taverns you will have to pay a stiff fine.’
‘I understand. There won’t be any trouble. How much to moor for one night?’
‘Three pounds of hack silver.’
That was extortionate. I had expected him to say a few copper coins or an ounce or two of silver at most.
‘No, that’s ridiculous. Three ounces and that’s paying over the odds.’
‘Three pounds or you can leave now.’
‘It’s getting dark. We’re staying for the night. You can accept what I’ve offered or you can try and fight us for more.’
‘I thought you said that you came in peace.’
‘And so we do, but that doesn’t mean we won’t fight robbers and thieves.’
‘We’ll have to see what our eorl has to say about that. He has a lot more warriors than you have.’
The use of the title eorl surprised me. Its use had died out in England a century or so ago, to be replaced by ealdorman. An English eorl used to rule over a large area of land, often a former petty kingdom. If there was an eorl here I didn’t think he would live in such a small place, more likely he was based in Bremen. I decided to take a gamble.
‘Why don’t you do that, and when I get to Bremen I will be sure to tell your eorl exactly how much you are fleecing visitors for. I suspect that he has no idea what you are charging, or how much you are keeping back for yourself.’
The look of panic on the man’s face was almost comical.
‘That won’t be necessary,’ he said hurriedly. ‘Let’s say six ounces of silver.’
‘Three and that’s my final offer. If you argue I’ll reduce it to two.’
‘Very well, three ounces; but I want it now.’
Octa brought it to me and handed it over with a grin. I let the men to go ashore but only allowed them to take a seax or a dagger and I warned them that, if there was any trouble, I would fine them myself. I also put a strong guard on the ships. In the end the night passed with no more than the odd fist fight and the next morning we set off rowing down the River Weser.
~~~
Bremen was something of a disappointment. The banks of the Weser were marshy and the jetty built out over the reed beds was even smaller than the one at Geestendorf. It was full and two knarrs were anchored out in the river waiting for their turn to unload. The settlement itself – it was hardly large enough to be called a town, although the locals called it a burg – consisted of timber or wattle and daub huts with thatched or straw roofs. It looked primitive by comparison with a similar sized place in England.
I could see one timber building that was larger than the rest but I couldn’t see any windows, just double doors facing the river. Presumably that was the eorls’ hall. Smoke emanated from a hole in the roof although it was a warm day, presumably so that a meal could be cooked.
Streets led up from the jetty which even at this distance looked as if they consisted of mud, debris and the usual unpleasantness. I sighed when I thought of how clean we had managed to keep the land inside the fortress of Bebbanburg. Even the settlement below the stronghold was cleared of rubbish, offal and faeces daily. It wasn’t difficult; it just required a little organisation.
At least there shouldn’t be a language problem. I had no trouble understanding the inhabitants of Geestendorf. Although the Saxon dialect they used was a little different to the English I spoke, it wasn’t difficult to get the gist or to make them understand me. We had all spoken the same language two centuries ago but words, idioms and accents change over time.
We had no option but to anchor out in the river and, after we’d been there for a while, a small boat rowed out to us. It was yet another official but this time he was apologetic.
‘Lord,’ he called across when he was near enough, ‘I regret that there is no room at the wharf but there is another jetty around the bend for those who don’t have a cargo to unload. I presume that is the case?’
‘Yes, we have come to visit Father Willihad.’
The man nodded. ‘I’m a Christian but few are as yet. When you’ve moored you’ll have to walk back to the burg. You’ll find the priest’s hut near to the eorl’s hall. You will need to visit him and explain why you have arrived here.’
I nodded and expected him to row back to shore again, but he came alongside.
‘How long are you staying?’
‘I’m not sure, but at least two nights.’
‘That will be twelve ounces of silver then, please.’
It seemed that all these port officials tried to make money on the side.
‘Six, and I shall check with the eorl what the correct fee is.’
He looked disappointed.
‘Very well, one ounce per ship per night is the correct rate.’
I later found out that was the fee for knarrs who were unloading. The correct fee for visitors who just wanted to tie up alongside was half that. I hadn’t been as clever as I’d thought.
Later that afternoon I walked back into Bremen with my son and two of my warband. Octa and I were dressed in the best tunics and trousers we’d brought with us; a sword and a seax hung from the belt at our waists but, in order to look non-threatening, we wore no armour nor carried a shield, but at least we could defend ourselves if the need arose. I was wrong, of course.
I had no reason to hide my identity, or
so I thought. No-one would have heard of Seofon of Bebbanburg here. When we got to the hall the sentry outside insisted we leave our swords with him but allowed us to keep the seaxes.
When the door opened all I could see was a smoky haze. There were no windows and no source of light, other than the open doors and a dying fire in the central hearth.
‘Come in, whoever you are, and make yourselves known,’ a voice boomed at us from the darkness.
‘I would if I could see, lord,’ I replied, which drew a chuckle.
‘Wulfgang, go and fetch a torch for our visitors.’
A few minutes later a boy of about twelve or thirteen appeared with a torch and led us to the far end of the hall where a man and a woman sat behind a table. We passed other men and a few women sitting at other tables who gazed at us curiously before resuming eating and drinking. We had evidently arrived at a meal time. We ate in the morning and again just before dusk. As it was now halfway between the two I wasn’t sure which meal they were having unless, of course, they ate three meals a day. If so, that seemed rather indulgent to me.
When we arrived at the eorl’s table the boy put the torch in a sconce on the wall before sitting down beside those already seated.
‘Come, sit and join us. Hilda, fetch three more trenchers.’
I started at hearing my wife’s name but realised he was speaking to a servant girl. She darted away and came back with three scooped out trenchers of stale bread on a wooden plate which were filled with vegetable broth. In England this would be the food eaten by villeins and the poorer ceorls. Nobles usually had meat of some sort, as did their warriors, unless it was scarce.
We had eaten some bread purchased the previous day and hard cheese for our midday meal on board, but we set to with a will and ate in silence. Not so the rest of the occupants of the hall who were chattering away. I heard some teasing banter such as my own men would utter.
‘Now, you look like a lord of some kind. What brings you to my humble hall?’
‘I’m Seofon, an ealdorman from Northumbria sent by King Alchred to visit Father Willihad and report back on progress with his mission.’
‘Alchred sent you? Strange, I heard that he had offered five hundred pounds of silver for Seofon of Bebbanburg. You are accused of regicide, I believe.’
~~~
I cursed myself for a fool. Had I not used my own name two of my men would still be alive and my son and I wouldn’t be chained to a post in this hovel of a hut. Obviously the local eorl, whose name I didn’t even know, intended to sell Octa and me to Alchred. He had no use for my warriors so he had them killed out of hand. At least one of them had managed to draw his seax and plunge it into the chest of a Saxon before he was cut down.
My one hope was my men who had remained with our ships. If all the Saxon warriors in Bremen had been dining in the eorl’s hall, there couldn’t be more that forty of them. There would be other, married warriors, of course, but they would live in their own huts.
Obviously he could muster a lot more than that, given time, but I had ninety men scarcely more than a mile from the burg. The only problem was they might realise that something was wrong when we didn’t return, but they wouldn’t know what had happened to us or where we were being held prisoner.
‘Why are we here, father?’
Octa’s question took me by surprise.
‘What do you mean? You know that King Charles made it a condition of allow us to trade out of Paris.’
‘No, why are we in Paris. We aren’t merchants, or at least not primarily so. We are nobles of Northumbria.’
‘You know why. Because Alchred has accused me of complicity in Oswulf’s murder in order to put Æthelwold Moll on the throne.’
‘Yes, I know all that,’ he said impatiently. ‘But why aren’t we doing something to regain Bebbanburg?’
‘Like what? Don’t you think that is what I dream about every day? It’s not going to happen as long as Alchred is on the throne though.’
‘Then we need to remove him and put someone in his place who is well disposed towards us.’
‘Such as?’
‘Moll’s son, Æthelred.’
‘But he’s only eight. Even if we did manage to unseat Alchred somehow, the Witan is hardly likely to vote for a child as king. Look what happened the last time we had a boy on the throne.’
‘They might if they had a strong regent to rely on to bring him up properly, someone who is already his guardian.’
‘You’re living in a dream world, Octa. Why would they choose me?’
‘They might if you were their leader and deposed Alchred. You yourself have said that he’s proving to be more and more unpopular.’
‘That’s mainly because they blame him for doing nothing to counter the attack on Cumbria.’
‘If you promised to drive Eugien out they may well rally to you.’
I had recently learned of significant events in Northumbria. Ciniod, the new High King of the Picts, was a weak man who had internal problems to contend with. Some said that his kingdom was on the point of splitting up again. The north had long since ceased to acknowledge the control of the high king and now the other mormaers were acting more and more independently of the centre.
As a result Strathclyde had seized their opportunity two years ago to regain their independence and King Eugein had declared that he was no longer a vassal of the Picts. In the spring of this year he had retaken the coastal strip of Galloway, which had long been part of Cumbria. Now he was said to be advancing further and further into Cumbria itself and had captured its capital of Caer Luel. Alchred’s reaction had been to sue for peace in the hope of getting Caer Luel back in exchange for his recognition of the new border along the Solway Firth.
Eugein had rejected his overtures and sent the messenger’s head back in a basket. As far as I knew, Alchred had done nothing further to counter Strathclyde’s aggression and dissatisfaction with his leadership was growing as a result.
However, there was nothing I could do, even if I could think of what action to take, stuck here as a captive of some Saxon lordling.
~~~
We were woken the next morning by a boy who came in to empty our shit bucket and bring us some stale bread and hard cheese.
‘We need more water too,’ I pointed out as he went to leave.
He nodded and left with the stinking leather bucket.
Ten minutes later the door opened and I thought the boy was back with our water, but instead two men came in. One pointed his spear at us whilst the other went to undo our shackles.
‘The eorl wants to see you,’ the man with the spear grunted and gestured for us to precede him out of the hut.
Four more warriors waited outside to escort us to the hall and the man who’d released us kicked Octa to indicate that we should get a move on. When we entered it took some time for my eyes to adjust; then I saw with surprise that one of my birlinn captains, a man named Beadurof, stood there talking to the eorl and his son. The hall was full of Saxons warriors again but this time they were not eating, just drinking. I frowned in disgust. Any man who was quaffing ale at this time of the morning instead of practicing his fighting skills wouldn’t prove much opposition to a real fighter.
‘Ah, Lord Seofon. Good morning; I trust that you and your son slept well.’
Perhaps he thought he was being funny. Some of his men laughed dutifully at any rate.
‘Thank you, yes. The hard earth is always preferable to a ship’s deck, apart from the rats and the lice, that is. What do you want?’
‘Your man here has offered to equal the reward offered by your king. It’s not enough though. I want six hundred pounds of silver.’
Charles had been reasonable generous when funding our expedition, but not that generous. I had brought along some of my own money as well, but I doubted if what I had on board amounted to much more than three hundred pounds in total.
I saw Beadurof nod imperceptibly and I guessed what he had planned.
/> ‘Very well, I agree. He’ll have to fetch it from my ship though. Will you send an escort?’
We were left standing there whilst we waited. I watched the eorl and his son, Wulfgang, carefully as they seemed to be arguing. I couldn’t hear what was being said but the father evidently had enough of whatever his young son was protesting about and he clipped him about the ear. Thereafter the boy sat in sulky silence.
An hour later Beadurof reappeared with four men struggling to carry a large chest. The escort waited just inside the door, which I thought was a little odd. The eorl only had eyes for the chest though and, as it was dumped in front of the table, he rushed around it and lifted the lid.
The men in the hall had got up to crowd around, eager to see more silver than they ever had done before in their lives. Their lord threw back the lid – to reveal a load of stones.
One of the four who had carried the chest into the hall stabbed the eorl in the chest and the other three gathered around Octa and me protectively. At the same time the ten men by the door rushed forward and started to kill the unprepared warriors. Most had their swords on them but that was all. Half drunk, ill-trained and faced with enemies in armour with spears and shields, my ten men had killed more than half of them when the hall filled with the rest of my men, some of whom were carrying torches so they could see what they were doing.
Wulfgang had stood stunned at first but had drawn his dagger and, screaming with rage, he had launched himself at his father’s killer. The man was so surprised that he was slow to react and the point of the dagger pricked at his byrnie before he brought up his arm to knock it away. It had broken several rings in the chain mail and the tip came away red with blood, but it had done no real damage. I stepped forward and drove my fist into the boy’s jaw. He dropped like a stone.
Within ten minutes the only Saxon men left alive were the unconscious Wulfgang and several terrified servants. The eorl’s wife had more gumption than the rest and picked up a discarded sword to attack me. Octa stepped in the way and knocked her out with the haft of a spear.