by H A CULLEY
Nerian was elated. Did that mean that Oswiu might grant him his freedom? He’d freed his predecessor, Raulf, when he reached fifteen and now he was a member of his gesith. He was so cheerful that he didn’t even mind carrying the heavy bundle, which was now beginning to stink, into the church.
Oswiu took Dudda, the senior eorl in Bernicia, aside when he went into the king’s hall, ignoring the others who had already gathered.
‘Who are the other contenders?’ he asked quietly.
‘Œthelwald of course, but he hasn’t arrived yet, your younger brother, Offa, your nephew, Talorgan the Pict and, of course, your sons Aldfrith and Ehlfrith.’
‘Hmmm, I doubt that Talorgan will want to challenge me and one of my sons is still a young boy – and a bastard at that – whilst the other is a babe in arms. Have you heard where Œthelwald is?’
Dudda looked embarrassed. ‘He arrived at Bebbanburg yesterday and demanded that the custos turn the fortress over to him as Oswald’s son and heir.’
‘And?’
‘The custos admitted him but his crews, led by the shipmasters, Dunston and Cormac, refused to support him. He tried to have them arrested but no-one would follow his orders. He drew a sword and wounded Cormac before he was overpowered. I believe that he’s being brought here under escort tomorrow.’
‘Ha, that will hardly help his case. Is Cormac alright?’
‘Yes, just a flesh wound, so I’m told.’
‘You do seem well informed.’
‘The Thegn of Bebbanburg Vill arrived here earlier and he was full of the news.’
‘I see. How many have already arrived?’
‘Just those who live close by. Your messenger only arrived yesterday morning, having practically killed his horse under him to get here.’
‘So it’ll be at least three days before the Witan can gather?’
‘Yes, probably.’
Oswiu left him feeling a little concerned. It would be at least a week before he could reach Eoforwīc and state his claim before the Witan there. He wished Oswald had been able to combine the two witans.
‘Nerian, go and find Ceadda for me.’
The boy ran down to the warriors hall and re-appeared with the captain of his gesith in tow a few minutes later.
‘Ceadda, I need to send someone to represent me before the Deiran Witan and state my claim to the throne. It’ll probably be quickest if you travel by sea. There are two birlinns at Bebbanburg with crews, tell Dunston I want him to continue as my horse marshal but it’s his skill as a shipmaster I need now. He is take you down to Eoforwīc with all speed.’
‘I’ll leave immediately.’
‘No, it’s getting dark. Leave at dawn.’
‘Who will you appoint to lead the gesith whilst I’m away?’
Oswiu thought for a moment. ‘Who would you suggest?’
‘Either Aart or Mannix.’
‘Mannix is the elder so let it be him. Send him to me.’
~~~
Acha was distraught when she heard of the death of her eldest son.
‘You would think that Oswiu would have found the time to come and tell me himself,’ she complained to her daughter, Æbbe, the Abbess of Coldingham Monastery.
She had retired to the monastery, which Aidan had founded with Æbbe for nuns to complement his own monastery for monks a few miles further down the east coast on the Island of Lindisfarne.
‘I’m sure he has other things on his mind, mother,’ she replied, thinking - and not for the first time - that her mother was being rather self-centred.
‘Such as? What could be more important than telling your mother that her eldest son is dead?’
‘You’re not being reasonable. He needs to confirm his own position as king, both here in Bernicia and in Deira as well, and he’ll need to prepare the kingdom for a possible invasion by that odious pagan, Penda. Come, we’ll go to the church and pray for Oswald’s soul.’
The little timber church stood on the headland looking out over the German Ocean. Æbbe loved the location of her monastery, though her mother sometimes found the bitterly cold easterly winds unbearable in the winter. She was now approaching sixty and looked her age. Her one desire now was to visit her two remaining sons one more time before she died. That was one reason that she was so disappointed that Oswiu hadn’t come to see her in person.
Offa was rather a different matter. He was her youngest son but he’d lived as an anchorite, firstly on Iona and now on one of the tiny Farne Islands to the south of Lindisfarne. The last time she had seen him was when he left for Iona at the age of twelve some sixteen years ago.
Mother and daughter offered up their prayers for the dead Oswald and then Æbbe left her mother to continue her mediation. Acha thought back over her life and regretted all the times she had argued with Oswald, and to a much greater extent, with Oswiu. The problem was they were all strong willed people with incompatible opinions.
‘I can’t go to my grave without seeing Oswiu and making my peace with him,’ she said to Æbbe later.
‘What will you do? You’re getting too frail to ride, even the short distance to Bebbanburg. Of course, Oswiu’s at Yeavering at the moment and no doubt he’ll head for Eoforwīc as soon as he can.’
‘Yes, I’ll wait until he returns to Bebbanburg, which he’ll do in October to spend the winter there, if he keeps to the tradition. I’ll have to travel by sea, I suppose. Can you send for a suitable ship to convey me there? I want to go via the Farne Islands to see Offa one last time on the way.’
‘But women aren’t allowed there. Bishop Aidan might let you land at Lindisfarne, after all there are villeins and their families there who farm the land, but the hermitages are sacrosanct. Even the other monks are only allowed to go out to take food and water to Offa.’
‘Nevertheless, this is probably my only chance to see him before I die. From there I’ll go onto Bebbanburg and wait for Oswiu there.’
As the birlinn sailed into the bay below the monastery on the Holy Island of Lindisfarne a fishing boat put out from the shore.
‘Greetings in the name of God and His Son, Jesus Christ. Who has come to honour us with a visit?’ the monk standing in the stern called across.
‘Greetings Brother Ròidh, do you not recognise me?’
‘Abrecan, is that you? What are you doing here, is ought amiss?’
The fishing boat came alongside and Ròidh clambered aboard.
‘A lot since the death of King Oswald. At least Oswiu has been elected as King of Bernicia.’
‘What about Œthelwald? Did he not have a better claim as Oswald’s son?’
‘He scuppered whatever chances he had by wounding Cormac in an argument. He’s seen as too hot-headed to rule in these difficult times; and he was forced to pay weregeld to Cormac as compensation for shedding his blood.’
‘No tidings as yet from Eoforwīc I suppose?’
‘No, not as yet, though the rumours say that Oswine, the son of that fool Oswin of unlamented memory, will be their choice.’
‘We can only hope that the rumours are wrong. A nation divided will fall.’
‘My sentiments exactly,’
Ròidh gave a start and turned to see an old lady making her painful way towards him with the aid of a stick and two women; one a nun and the other her body slave. He saw the chair mounted on the aft deck and assumed that was how she had made the journey from Coldingham.
‘Síþwíf, my apologies. I didn’t know that you were aboard.’
Ròidh bowed towards Acha and wondered what on earth she was doing there.
‘I have come to see my son, if he will allow it. It will be my last opportunity to do so, I fear. Is Bishop Aidan here? I suppose I should seek his permission.’
‘No, he’s in the Land of the Picts at the invitation of King Talorgan.’
‘Talorgan? My husband’s grandson? Is he now king? I thought that was the duplicitous Talorc?’
‘He is still the high king, yes, but Talorgan r
ecruited a large war band when in the far north and so Talorc was forced to come to an agreement with him. Prydenn on the east coast was without a king and so Talorc gave Talorgan his support to take the vacant throne provided he acknowledged Talorc as his superior. Now Talorgan wants to convert his new subjects to Christianity.’
Talorgan’s grandmother had been Bebba, King Æthelfrith’s first wife - a Pictish princess after whom Bebbanburg was named. Acha had been his second.
Ròidh nodded. ‘I would have gone with him as usual, but I was recovering from an illness at the time. He’s taken two other young monks to train them as missionaries.’
Suddenly he realised that Acha was still standing.
‘I’m sorry Síþwíf. Abrecan, is there something the Lady Acha can sit on?’
‘Don’t fuss. I’ll go back to my chair in a moment, but first I need to know whether whoever is in charge in Aidan’s absence will allow me to see Offa.’
‘That would be me. Aidan made me prior of the monastery before he left.’
Aidan was Abbot of Lindisfarne as well as being the bishop.
‘Very well. Do you think Offa will see me? Which islet is he on?’
Acha turned with difficulty and scanned the islets to the south, two of which had the distinctive beehive shaped huts on them in which the anchorites lived.
‘He isn’t, Síþwíf. He’s gradually become one of the community. I think he’s satisfied that he has spent enough time communing with God and now feels that he needs to be of more use in a practical sense. He’s the Master of the Novices, and a very good one he is too. I think the boys respect his piety and he has a way of dealing with them that allows them to be boys, but also be self-disciplined when they need to be. He certainly seems to get the best out of them.’
‘So he’s stopped being a recluse?’
‘Not entirely. He still seeks solitude from time to time. However, he hasn’t felt the need to retire to the islets for two months now. I think that the last time he was away for a week he missed his young charges, though he would never admit that.’
Four rowers lifted Acha over the side once the birlinn had been beached and Ròidh sent for a horse and cart to take her up to the monastery. The buildings were scattered over the site, which was enclosed by a hedge of hawthorn to keep animals out. Apart from the church, kitchens and the hall, there were small huts for the monks to live in and a building with several large windows with shutters. This was the scriptorium where important documents, like the Holy Bible and books of prayer, were copied. The unglazed windows let in the maximum amount of light but work continued by candlelight if the shutters had to be closed in inclement weather.
Ròidh and a monk helped Acha out of the cart; the nun and her slave had been forced to remain on the birlinn. It was one thing to allow the former queen into the sacred precincts but three women would have been unthinkable.
She hobbled, leaning on Ròidh’s arm, into the scriptorium. Several monks were busy copying and didn’t even look up when Acha entered but at the far end a monk in his late twenties was bending over a boy’s shoulder as he practiced illumination alongside a dozen other boys similarly occupied.
As he straightened up to move to the next novice he noticed Ròidh standing in the doorway with an old woman. His first reaction was outrage that a female should be here in the monastery, let alone in the scriptorium, then he realised that there was something vaguely familiar about her face. When he had last seen Acha he’d been a boy of twelve and she’d just entered her forties. He didn’t recognise her now, but the way she was looking at him stirred a distant memory.
‘Mother?’ he asked uncertainly and then smiled a welcome when she nodded her head. ‘I never thought to see you again, least of all here.’
As he said this he glanced at Ròidh with an unspoken question in his expression.
‘Shall we go outside, brother?’
Ròidh left them to talk and went into the church to pray for the Lady Acha’s soul. He had a feeling that she didn’t have long left in this world.
‘What brings you here, mother? You know that long ago I gave up the outside world to devote my life to serving God. I had reconciled myself to never seeing you or my family again.’
‘I know that I haven’t long to live, Offa, and the death of Oswald made me realise that I needed to see you and Oswiu once more before I died. I brought six sons into this world and you two are the only ones left.’
‘I was sad to hear of the death of Oswald and the others, but I didn’t really know them that well. Of course, Osguid, Oslac and Oslaph were with me on Iona for a while but after I completed my noviciate I became an anchorite and saw little of them before Osguid and Oslac left to serve as priests. I was with Oslaph when he died though. He succumbed to a wasting sickness and I spent time in the infirmary tending him for his last few weeks. His was not an easy death.’
Acha wept for Oslaph in a way that she hadn’t for the others, even Oswald. His had been such a short life.
‘I must get back to my charges, mother. They are good boys but they need watching or they’ll be up to some mischief. I know that I was the same at their age.’
‘Offa, I came to say goodbye but also to make a request. Oslac served Oswald well as his chaplain. I know he had his wife and mistress to confide in and Aidan and he were always close, but he depended on Oslac a great deal and, as his chaplain, I know he made Oswald a better Christian. I realise that I have no right to ask, but Oswiu needs someone like Oslac now. He is devout but he is hot tempered and proud. He needs a chaplain to constantly remind him he is but a humble mortal and a child of God as well as a king.’
‘And you want me to be to Oswiu what Oslac was to Oswald?’
‘Yes, I suppose that’s exactly what I’m asking.’
‘I’ll need to reflect on that and seek guidance from Our Lord. My years of quiet meditation and prayer eventually led me down my present path, but it may be that He has something more useful for me to do. Where are you going now? Back to Coldingham?’
‘No, to Bebbanburg to await Oswiu’s arrival.’
He nodded. ‘I will either send a messenger there or, if I decide that the right thing to do is as you ask, I’ll see you there in a little while. Goodbye mother. I may see you again but, if not, God be with you.’
Acha was assisted into the cart once more and, as she sat down with some relief, she looked back towards the scriptorium, but Offa had already gone back inside.
In the event, she didn’t see either Oswiu or Offa at Bebbanburg. She died peacefully in her sleep three days after arriving there.
~~~
Oswiu arrived at Eoforwīc to find that the Witan had met but had adjourned until he and Œthelwald could be present, much to Oswine’s annoyance. Ceadda took him to one side as soon as the formal welcome was over.
‘The Witan is divided. Several of the eorls favour you; they know that keeping Northumbria together as one kingdom makes it stronger and better able to stand up to Penda, but James the Deacon wants Deira to be independent. I’m sure his motivation is religious. He is a member of the Roman Church and he seeks to counter the influence of Bishop Aidan and the Celtic Church. I have heard a rumour that he has petitioned the Pope to make Deira a separate diocese. Many of the thegns also want to split Northumbria in two again. It seems illogical but I suspect that they fear James and want to appease him. They mainly support Oswine. I suppose that the only good news is that Œthelwald seems to have few adherents, though he has been canvassing support since he arrived two days ago.’
‘Thank you Ceadda. I’ll not stoop to my nephew’s tactics though. If I can’t convince the Witan when it assembles, then so be it. I won’t go around hiding in dark corners trying to bribe, threaten or charm people into supporting me.’
Hrothga, Eorl of Eoforwīc, presided, just as he’d done eight years previously when Oswald had been elected as King of Deira and Elmet. The hall was packed with the candidates and the earls seated on benches in front, and the theg
ns standing crammed in behind them.
‘I’ll call upon each candidate to state their claim for the crown in order of age and then invite the eorls and thegns to question them in turn. Oswiu, would you start please?’
‘I’m the brother of King Oswald and son of the Lady Acha, daughter of King Ælle. I am King of Bernicia and Rheged and combining these territories with that of Deira and Elmet would establish Northumbria as a great power in England, powerful enough to resist the pagan Penda. I don’t wish to boast of my military prowess, but suffice to say I am a warrior and successful commander wheras my rivals are as yet untried on the battlefield.’
When he sat down both Oswine and Œthelwald leapt to their feet. They glared at each other before Hrothga reminded them that Œthelwald was nineteen whereas Oswine was only seventeen.
‘Thank you Hrothga. I am the only son of your last king, Oswald of blessed memory. I may not be as experienced a warrior as my uncle, Oswiu, but you would have my undivided loyalty. Deira is in danger of being swallowed up as part of a greater Northumbria. My uncle has always been more concerned with the north than with us here on the border of Mercia. He is allied to Dalriada, Strathclyde and many petty kings in the Land of the Picts and that is where his interest lies. Elect me and you will get a king who puts your welfare first.’
Oswiu glared at Œthelwald as he sat down. He would have liked to repudiate what his nephew had said but he’d missed the opportunity to address his criticism. He realised that he who spoke last had a distinct advantage.
‘These two other æthelings are Bernicians, not Deirans,’ Oswine began. ‘Their father was the man who murdered my grandfather’s brother, Æthelric, and took our throne by force. Do you wish to perpetuate this injustice? It’s true that they can trace their ancestry back to King Ælle but I am the grandson of his youngest brother Æfric and I am descended through the male line back to Yffi, the founder of the royal house of Deira. Furthermore, my father, Osric, was king. I say I have the greater claim, and I will serve you and you alone. Finally, Oswiu says that he will save you from Mercia because a united Northumbria is powerful enough to resist him. That lie was exposed at Maserfield.’