by H A CULLEY
‘Many years, to my regret. Come, sit by me. Bring another chair for my eldest son.’
Both Alchfrith and Ecgfrith looked askance at their half-brother. They were well aware that they were both rivals for their father’s throne when the time came, but they had always discounted Aldfrith. The last thing either wanted was his restoration to favour.
However, Wilfrid welcomed him as if he were the prodigal son. To his annoyance Aldfrith ignored him and greeted Colman first.
‘I was sorry to hear of Finan’s death. He was a holy man and he is already being recognised as a saint. Congratulations on your election to succeed him.’
The two had met on Iona a few years previously and each respected the other. He went on to nod towards his two half-brothers, who acknowledged him, even if they didn’t get up to greet him. Before he could pay his respects to Kyneburga or speak to either Catinus or Conomultus, Wilfrid tried again to welcome him.
‘Aldfrith, it is a pleasure to meet such a renowned scholar at last.’
‘Thank you, but I don’t think we’ve met before?’
‘Abbot Wilfrid of Ripon,’
‘You are a long way from your monastery, Father Abbot. What brings you to my father’s court?’
‘I also act as the spiritual advisor to the queen and to King Alchfrith.’
‘Strange; I thought they had their own chaplains for that, and surely it is the job of the Bishop of Northumbria to care for his flock. I’d have thought that you would need to stay at your monastery to look after your monks and the good people of Ripon?’
Wilfrid went red in the face. This wasn’t going the way he’d expected, so he decided to change the subject.
‘If you are not here to visit your father and brothers, perhaps you are travelling somewhere?’
‘Indeed; not that it need be any concern of yours though, father abbot. Cyning, may we talk somewhere in private?’ he asked turning back to his father.
‘Will you not join us and have something to eat first? You must be hungry after your journey.’
‘Thank you, but this is too rich a feast for me. Perhaps just a little bread, cheese and water?
As they were eating Conomultus and Catinus introduced themselves and Aldfrith briefed them on the latest situation in Dalriada and Ulster. Domnall Dhu had established himself as the undisputed King of Dalriada but relations with all his neighbours were poor. He had reportedly repudiated his allegiance to Oswiu as Bretwalda of Caledonia and had come out against Eochaid and Lethlobar, supporting instead the claim of Blathmac mac Máele Cobo to be King of the Ulaidh.
Catinus sensed Ruaidhrí stiffen at this. The boy was standing beside Leofric as they were acting as servers for him and Colman and he had clearly heard what Aldfrith had said.
‘Is Eochaid still king then?’
‘Yes, Blathmac and Lethlobar are fighting over the succession. I imagine that Eochaid will be allowed to live out his remaining days as king, in name if not in fact.’
‘Aldfrith, I think I had better introduce you to the boy who is serving Father Colman. He is Ruaidhrí, Eochaid’s son and Lethlobar’s half-brother.’
‘I’m sorry Ruaidhrí, I didn’t mean to be insensitive. However, I understand that not a lot of love is lost between Lethlobar and yourself?’
‘That is true, lord. However, I care for my father deeply and I’m very relieved to hear that he will be allowed to live out his time as king.’
‘I’m curious, what is an Irish princeling doing so far from home?’
‘I accompanied Ealdorman Catinus from Larne and I am acting as Bishop Colman’s servant until I can return to Lindisfarne to start my training as a novice.’
‘Do you wish to be a monk then?’
‘I don’t think so, but I have yet to experience the life so I can’t be certain. However, I think I would prefer to be a warrior.’
‘I see. You don’t mind acting as a servant then, despite your birth?’
‘No, I have no aspirations to be a prince, despite what Lethlobar believes.’
‘What about you, Prince Aldfrith? Why is a renowned scholar of the Celtic Church journeying from Iona to Cantwareburg, the seat of the archbishop who leads the Roman Catholic Church in England?’ Colman asked.
‘Not prince, just Aldfrith please.’
Colman smiled at the mild rebuke. He approved of Aldfrith’s aesthetic lifestyle and humility, as well as admiring him as a scholar. He felt a little guilty now for indulging himself at the feast and suspected that he would pay for his gluttony later.
‘I’m researching the life of Saint Columba so that I can record it for posterity. Most of the information I need is either on Iona or in Ireland, but there are some books in Cantwareburg that may be helpful.’
‘That is indeed a noble enterprise. I wish you God speed on your journey.’
‘I wish I could go with you,’ Ruaidhrí said wistfully.
‘You know that’s not possible,’ Catinus told him. ‘You father wishes you to be educated at Lindisfarne. You will have time to travel later, when you’re a man.’
Ruaidhrí scowled at Catinus, frustrated because his journey to the south of England in the company of a man he liked and respected, even on so short an acquaintance, was to be denied him. Aldfrith had that effect on a lot of people. They instantly took to him and trusted him. It was a gift that would stand him in good stead in the future.
CHAPTER EIGHT – STRATHCLYDE
662 AD
Oswiu was visiting Bebbanburg again when the messenger from Elfin of Strathclyde reached him. He had delayed coming north to visit his provinces of Bernicia, Goddodin and Rheged until he was satisfied that his new son, Ælfwine, would live. It had been a long and difficult labour for Eanflæd and she swore after she’d recovered that she would have no more children.
The baby had struggled to breathe initially and had coughed a great deal. He had failed to thrive until Eanflæd took him away from his wet-nurse and breast fed him herself. Because her milk hadn’t dried up before this, she took it as a sign from God that He wished her to feed the boy herself. Immediately the coughing stopped and he started to put on weight.
Now that Ælfwine was a plump nine-month-old baby who had started to crawl and get into mischief, Oswiu decided that the time had come to deal with Domnall Dhu. He had wasted no time in expanding the boundaries of Dalriada to include the area to the west of Loch Lomond. The north of this area was part of the Pictish Kingdom of Hyddir and the south belonged to Strathclyde. King Elfin, in particular, was alarmed as it meant that Domnall was now perilously close to his stronghold of Dùn Breatainn. Oswiu was afraid that the whole of Caledonia would return to its former state of instability unless he acted quickly.
Garnait, the High King of the Picts, had been strangely silent about Dalriada’s encroachment but a messenger from Hunwald, who Oswiu had made Eorl of Prydenn when he had inherited the kingdom from his nephew, Talorgan, arrived two days later which explained why. Oswiu read the letter from Hunwald with mounting disquiet.
Cyning,
I fear that I am the barer of sad tidings. You will remember Ròidh, Aidan’s friend and Bishop of Ardewr. I regret to tell you that he died peacefully in his sleep just over two months ago.
Oswiu looked at the bottom of the letter and saw that it a dated two weeks previously, so Ròidh had died in February. He went back to reading what Hunwald had to say.
Fergus relied on his elder brother’s advice a great deal and, by all accounts, was grief stricken at his loss, especially as it happened only a month after their mother’s death. Although Fergus married the daughter of the king of neighbouring Penntir, they had not been blessed with children. That left Fergus’ illegitimate son, Morleo, as the only other surviving member of the royal house.
Queen Genofeva hated her son’s bastard, but he was Ròidh’s servant and he protected the boy. When Genofeva died, Fergus wasted no time in proclaiming Morleo as his heir and he brought him to live in the king’s hall. Unfortunately it seems
that his wife wasn’t pleased by this and presumably still had hopes of a child of her own. In any event she tried to poison Morleo, but one of her women betrayed her to Fergus and he forced her to drink the poisoned goblet intended for his son.
Her brother, now King of Penntir, accused Fergus of her murder and the situation between them deteriorated. He invaded seeking revenge and there was an indecisive battle on the River Deveron a month ago. Unfortunately both kings were killed in the battle.
Morleo was immediately hailed as King of Ardewr but the heir to the crown of Penntir was a young boy, Bruide. Morleo rallied his men and invaded Penntir, defeating their leaderless warriors at Turriff. Morleo installed Bruide as king with himself as regent.
Obviously this has worried Bran, the King of Cait to the north, and Garnait, the High King. Morleo has emerged as too powerful for the High King’s liking and I’m told that he has called a council of the Pictish kings at Kinross in Pobla.
I haven’t been invited to attend but I understand that the council is to meet in the middle of April.
Oswiu paced up and down deep in thought after reading Hunwald’s letter. It explained why he’d heard nothing about the reaction of Garnait and Drest to the threat from Domnall; they’d been too busy dealing with the situation in the north-east. He was far from indecisive normally but, at the moment, he wasn’t at all certain what he should do.
As he was pondering the best course of action, his chaplain came in to remind him that it was Sunday and time for divine service.
‘Ah, Conomultus, you are familiar with Ardewr aren’t you?
‘I was there some fifteen years ago, yes Cyning.’
‘Did you know Morleo?’
‘Morleo? Yes, he was the bishop’s servant; a by-blow of the king’s I believe.’
‘Well, he’s now King of Ardewr and has effectively taken over Penntir as well. What sort of a man is he?’
‘He was an eleven year old boy when I knew him, but he was utterly loyal to the bishop at the time, tending him as he lay dying. I’d say he was devout, honest and fair-minded as well, but it was a long time ago and he was very young. We all change over the years.’
‘Worthy of my support would you say?’
‘Well, that’s difficult for me to say. I liked him then and, if he hasn’t been embittered by Lady Genofeva’s implacable hatred, I’d say that you could probably trust him to keep his word.’
‘Thank you. Well, we’d better not keep the priest waiting.’
~~~
Both Hunwald and Utta were waiting by the quayside at Dùn Dè when the knarr carrying Catinus and Conomultus docked. Whilst his gesith waited for their horses to be unloaded, the two brothers greeted the eorl and the bishop. Neither had met Hunwald before but Utta was known to both of them; he’d been Conomultus’ predecessor as chaplain to Oswiu.
‘The king sends you his greetings and this reply to your letter, Eorl Hunwald,’ Catinus said formally once they’d introduced themselves.
Hunwald nodded and scanned the contents of the letter before handing it to Utta.
‘So it seems we need to make all haste to Kinross. I’m to represent Oswiu there as King of Prydenn but you and your brother are to assess whether we should support Morleo or Garnait. Oswiu isn’t normally so vague.’
‘We both knew Morleo when he was a boy,’ Catinus replied. ‘My brother rather better than me; if he is still as devout and trustworthy as he was then, then Oswiu will support him. If not, then we four are to make a judgement as how to best act in Oswiu’s interests.’
‘I see. And where is Oswiu now?’
‘He and his warband are making for Dùn Breatainn to join forces with King Elfin and force Domnall Dhu out of the territory near Loch Lomond that he has invaded.’
‘Domnall must be a fool if he thought he could invade Strathclyde and get away with it.’
‘Not just Strathclyde. He has also seized part of Hyddir as well. Because that’s Garnait’s territory we should be able to use Oswiu’s action to recover it in our negotiations with him and Drest.’
Hunwald smiled. ‘Good. I wasn’t sanguine about Garnait listening to us, or even allowing us to join the council, but that should do the trick.’
When they arrived, backed by the twenty well-armed men of Catinus’ gesith and Hunwald’s fifty mounted Picts there was some alarm in the camp by the side of Loch Leven near the settlement of Kinross. Drest, Garnait and Bran formed their men up on foot in a defensive line whilst a smaller group, presumably Morleo and his men from Ardewr and Penntir drew off to one side. The ever indecisive Ainftech, King of Uuynidd, hung back to see what would happen.
It had started to drizzle earlier in the day and Hunwald was cold, wet and tired. He was in no mood for games.
‘Is this a way to greet a friend, Brenin?’ he greeted Garnait, calling him king in Brythonic. ‘I bring you tidings of the invasion of Hyddir by Domnall of Dalriada.’
As he expected, this was news to all those present and there was immediate consternation, especially amongst the men of Hyddir who had left families behind.
‘King Oswiu would have come to this council himself,’ the eorl went on, ‘but he is hastening with his warband to join Elfin of Strathclyde to repulse Domnall on your behalf. He has asked me and Ealdorman Catinus to represent him here.’
He paused for a moment to let what he’d said to sink in.
‘Now can we all get out of this damn rain? As soon as my old bones have warmed up a bit I’ll come and find you and the other kings and tell you more.’
It was subtly done and Catinus had to restrain himself from chuckling. Hunwald had left Garnait with no option but to agree.
‘You know everyone I think, except Morleo of Ardewr and Bruide of Penntir.’
Hunwald nodded to the man in his late twenties who nodded back and then smiled at Catinus and Conomultus. Evidently he remembered them from the time when they had visited the crannog on Loch Ness. The boy beside him looked to be about ten. He didn’t respond except to scowl at them.
‘I’m Hunwald of Prydenn and these three are Ealdorman Catinus of Bebbanburg, Bishop Utta and Conomultus, King Oswiu’s chaplain.’
Utta smiled at the young boy, displaying his pointed teeth. Most youngsters would have been frightened but not Bruide; the scowl disappeared and he grinned back.
When Hunwald and Catinus had told the council all they knew about the situation in Hyddir, Garnait thanked them and suggested that they should now leave.
‘Leave Brenin? I thought that this council of the kings had ben convened to discuss the situation in Penntir. If so, King Oswiu wishes us to represent him in your deliberations, both as King of Prydenn and as Bretwalda of the North.’
‘But you are not a king,’ Drest spluttered. ‘If Oswiu wanted to take part in the council he should have come himself.’
‘You seem to forget, Brenin, that he has other more pressing matters to attend to at the moment. Or would you have preferred him to allow the Dalriadans free reign to capture more of Pictland?’ He tried to hide the scorn in his voice but failed.
Drest reddened with anger and the argument was about to get out of hand until Garnait thumped the table with his fist.
‘Enough! We aren’t here to bicker like children. I’m prepared to allow someone to represent the King of Prydenn, but only one man, not four. Now, which is it to be?’
Catinus glanced at Hunwald who nodded.
‘I will, Brenin, as it is me that Oswiu briefed.’
‘Very well. Now we all know of the tragic circumstances that has robbed us of two of our number. Fergus was precipitate in executing his queen for trying to poison his bas… son,’ he corrected himself just in time when he saw Morleo grasp the hilt of his sword. ‘But what is done is done.’
‘Morleo has been properly elected as King of Ardewr and we must all accept that.’
‘Well I don’t,’ a treble voice piped up. ‘He’s a bastard and has no right to be king.’
Morleo was visibly
enraged by what Bruide had said but there was little he could do about it. He would look a fool if he challenged a ten year old boy. Instead he leaned across and whispered in his ear.
‘If you wish to live to celebrate your eleventh birthday I suggest you apologise and mind what you say in future.’
The boy’s face reddened in anger, then he looked down at the table for a second or two before raising his head. He looked straight at Garnait.
‘I’m sorry, Brenin, that was crass and rude. I withdraw what I said.’
‘Very well, but I suggest you think more carefully before you speak. Young princes should watch and learn, preparing themselves for the day when they’ll be old enough to rule without guidance. Until that day, keep your thoughts well-guarded.’
He looked around the table before continuing.
‘The main matter we have to discuss is how best to provide the guidance and training that Bruide needs.’
‘It’s not just a matter of mentoring the boy, though is it Garnait?’ Bran pointed out. ‘Someone has to rule his kingdom in the meantime. He needs a regent as well as a guardian.’
‘Quite so. When I heard that Morleo intended to fulfil both roles I was concerned. It would effectively mean one of us ruling two kingdoms. No high king would tolerate giving so much power to one of his sub-kings.’
‘You are ignoring the fact that your family holds the high kingship and rules both Hyddir and Pobla, I presume.’
There was a stunned silence. Ainftech was normally content to stay in the background but it was he who put into words what many of the others thought.
‘But that just strengthens my position as high king and that makes the Land of the Picts strong. Dividing our land into two factions would mean an end to peace and prosperity for us all.’