BRETWALDA: Kings of Northumbria Book 3

by H A CULLEY

  ‘Did he really think he could have killed me and no-one would have suspected him?’

  ‘His mind is warped and blinded by ambition. He probably didn’t think about the consequences. He just saw you as an obstacle to be removed.’

  Ròidh nodded in understanding.

  What will you do when Bishop Kieran dies?’

  The boy didn’t reply; he just sat and wept.

  ‘I love him like a father; no, more than a father. My own father made me a slave rather than acknowledge me. Kieran took me in and has looked after me ever since I was a baby. I don’t want to live after he dies.’

  ‘Who was your father, Morleo?’

  The boy looked at him sharply.

  ‘Has no-one told you?’

  Ròidh shook his head.

  ‘When I mentioned your name to the king he looked uncomfortable and my mother gave me a filthy look. Apparently mentioning you is forbidden.’

  ‘That should tell you something, bishop. I think Fergus would recognise me as his son if he could, but his mother wanted me drowned out in the loch when I was born. Bishop Kieran stopped her and took me in, hiring a wet nurse to look after me until I was old enough. When I was six his old servant died and I took his place.’

  Ròidh thought about what the boy had said and suddenly comprehension dawned.

  ‘Fergus is your father?’

  The boy nodded and looked down at the ground.

  ‘Do you have something to do with the fact that he is still unmarried?’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  Just at that moment the old man stirred and tried to reach the beaker of water beside his bed. Morleo rushed over to him and gently helped him take a few mouthfuls before the dying man lay his head down again and went to sleep.

  ‘Do you mind, bishop? I think the end is near and I’d like to be with him when he goes.’

  ‘Of course, I’ll leave you now. Come and find me when you’re ready. I’ll be fishing from the walkway to the crannog.’

  The boy shook his head. ‘I’m not allowed on it, or anywhere where the Lady Genofeva might catch sight of me.’

  ‘Very well. I’ll come back in a few hours’ time.’

  As he sat on the lochside with a borrowed rod and line he tried to piece together what he’d learned. Fergus was Morleo’s father but he’d never married. Obviously the boy was the son of someone who his mother considered unsuitable, probably a slave girl. But plenty of men had children with a slave, why did she seem to hate him so?

  He was still trying to puzzle out the mystery when there was a commotion at the far end of the settlement. He went and gave the rod back to the man who’d lent it to him, together with the two trout he’d managed to catch, and went to investigate. He was astounded to discover the identity of the new arrivals – one was a young monk of no more than fourteen or fifteen but the other was his old mentor and friend, Bishop Aidan.

  ‘Aidan! What on earth….’

  He got no further before the older bishop smiled broadly and spoke.

  ‘I had a feeling I’d find you here, or at least King Oswiu and I did. I assume that King Talorgan is with you?’

  ‘Bishop Aidan?’

  At that moment Talorgan had arrived accompanied by Fergus and several of his gesith.

  After the welcome and introductions Fergus was about to arrange for another feast when Ròidh felt a tug on his sleeve. Looking behind him he saw that it was Morleo. The boy was hiding behind him whilst trying to gain his attention. Ròidh knew that could only mean one thing.

  The welcome feast for Aidan was consequently something of a muted affair with several men standing to pay tribute to the late Bishop Keiran. He was buried the next day with Aidan and Ròidh conducting the service jointly. The latter noticed that the one person who should have been there appeared to be absent; then he noticed Morleo watching from the shadows at the edge of the trees that surrounded the settlement. As soon as he was free, Ròidh took Aidan with him and went to Kieran’s hut.

  When they entered the boy jumped up like a startled rabbit and tried to hide the knife in his hand behind his back.

  ‘Morleo, this is Bishop Aidan, my friend and mentor.’

  The boy bowed towards Aidan but continued to look frightened and wary.

  ‘I know that you are well aware that taking your own life is a mortal sin so I suggest you put all thoughts of it from your mind. You can put the knife down now. We are here to help you.’

  ‘What can you do? The Lady Genofeva wants me dead and forgotten and Keiran can no longer protect me.’

  ‘No, but we can.’

  ‘But in a few days you’ll be gone.’

  ‘Possibly but, if so, I’ll take you with me, if you’re prepared to serve me that is,’ Ròidh told him.

  ‘You would?’ The boy’s whole demeanour changed and, for the first time, he started to think that he might have a future after all.

  Aidan sat down on the solitary bench in the small hut and invited Ròidh and Morleo to join him.

  ‘But first you’d better tell us why Genovefa hates you so much.’

  ‘The king fathered me on a pretty slave girl he thought he was in love with. I think he would have married her if he could. However, his mother wanted him to marry her niece and she was brought here for him to marry. Just before she arrived my mother told King Fergus that she was pregnant. He refused to marry his cousin and I’m told that he and his mother had a blazing row and they ended up not speaking for ages. The girl was sent back and that caused another rift, this time between Lady Genofeva and her brother – the girl’s father.

  ‘Anyway, Lady Genofeva had my mother killed just after she’d given birth to me and told a fisherman to take me out into the centre of the loch and throw me in. King Fergus was only nineteen at the time and was used to obeying his mother; however, he was determined that I should live and went to consult Bishop Kieran. The rest you know. He rebuked my mother and promised her she would end up in Hell if she harmed me, then he took me in.

  ‘My father never forgave his mother for killing my mother and vowed not to marry or have other children. I think his plan was to acknowledge me after his mother died and make me his heir. However, over time they have become reconciled and he is now promised in marriage to one of the daughters of Maelgwr, King of Penntir.’

  The two bishops exchanged a glance. If Ardewr was allied through marriage to Penntir would they be strong enough to stand up to Talorc? Of the seven Pictish kingdoms, Talorc’s writ as high king didn’t really extend to Cait in the north, although its king, Bran, had taken part in his election and sworn an oath of loyalty to him. In practice Cait was too remote and Bran only acknowledged the high king’s rule when it suited him.

  Talorc ruled his own Kingdom of Hyddir, which bordered on Strathclyde and Dalriada, in addition to being high king. Uuynnid in the south-east bordered Goddodin and its king walked a tightrope trying not to upset either Oswiu or Talorc. Prydenn and Pobla were now ruled by Talorc’s cousins. If Talorgan could regain Prydenn, with the support of Fergus and Maelgwr of Penntir, he could challenge Talorc, possibly even without Oswui’s help. Ròidh dragged his thoughts back to the unhappy eleven-year-old boy.

  ‘You’re not to worry, Morleo. Your devotion to Bishop Keiran will not go unrewarded. Stay here for the moment and I’ll ask King Fergus if I can move in here for the time being and take over as his bishop temporarily until a more permanent replacement is available.’

  ‘What about Bishop Aidan?’ Morleo asked, looking much happier.

  ‘I’ll be leaving in the morning with King Talorgan to go and meet King Oswiu.’

  He turned to Ròidh.

  ‘But first I think you, Talorgan and I need to talk to Fergus.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN – THE LAND OF THE PICTS

  647 AD

  At fourteen Aldfrith was wrestling with a decision about the rest of his life. Ever since the birth of Ehlfrith he had known that his chances of succeeding his father as king were minimal. The appe
arance of Ecgfrith two years ago meant that the odds against him were now even worse, even though he was the eldest, provided his father lived long enough for his two half-brothers to grow to maturity.

  As a bastard, he would need the patronage of his father to make anything of himself but, having started to take an interest in him when he was a few years younger, recently the king seemed to have little time for him. It was almost as if he’d become invisible.

  When his mother, Fianna, had become ill the previous winter and had died, he sank into depression. She was the only person who really cared for him and now he felt as if he was alone in the world. Aldfrith had accompanied Aidan to the funeral and was grateful for his superior’s comfort and support. It was more than he got from his father. Oswiu, who had once loved Fianna with a passion, didn’t seem at all upset by her death. His mind was probably pre-occupied by the situation in the north, but that was no excuse.

  ‘He’s probably more concerned by the fact that he’ll now have to find someone else to look after Elhfrith and Alflæd,’ he commented bitterly to Aidan. Fianna had looked after the two children of Oswiu and Rhieinmelth ever since the latter’s death.

  Aidan rebuked him but secretly he thought that the novice probably had the right of it. The king’s children by his former wife were now eight and five and Oswiu seemed to evince as little interest in them as he did in Aldfrith. All his love was lavished on Eanflaed and her children, Ecgfrith and Osthyrth.

  The more he thought about it, the more determined Aldfrith became not to be beholden to his father, even if the king was minded to offer him a position suitable to his rank, which was far from certain. He therefore told Aidan that he wished to become a monk, but he wouldn’t remain at Lindisfarne.

  ‘Where do you want to go then? Are you not content here?’

  ‘It is too near Bebbanburg and my father; I would prefer somewhere where he doesn’t have to be reminded of me.’

  ‘Are matters that bitter between you, then? I am aware that he probably pays you little attention, having other things to concern him, but I wasn’t aware that your relationship had grown that acrimonious.’

  ‘It hasn’t, at least not yet. Perhaps I’d feel happier if it had. At least then I’d know that he was aware that I existed. I confess that I’m jealous of the love he lavishes on Queen Eanflaed’s children and I need to distance myself so that I can overcome my sinful feelings towards them, and him.’

  ‘Would it help if I had a word with Oswiu?’

  ‘No, I don’t want his affection just because he feels it’s his duty. It wouldn’t be genuine and I think that would be even worse than ignoring my existence. No, my mind is made up, father abbot; I’d like to go to Melrose, if my uncle, Abbot Offa, will have me.’

  Aidan smiled. ‘I’m sure he would welcome you, but don’t expect to be treated any differently to the other young monks.’

  ‘It would only make me unpopular if I were. Thank you father abbot.’

  ~~~

  That had been in January. Oswiu had been surprised when he’d been told of his son’s decision. He was well aware that he should have done more to strengthen the relationship between him and Aldfrith; he didn’t want them to become estranged in the way that Oswald and Œthelwald had become, though he suspected that his brother and his nephew would never have become close, whatever Oswald did. They were too dissimilar and Œthelwald was too self-interested. Aldfrith was different; he had the makings of a good ruler and the king berated himself for not doing more to foster him.

  He sighed; well, it was too late now. His thoughts turned to Elhfrith and Alflæd. He would speak to Eanflaed about bringing them into his hall to be brought up with their children. However, the moment to broach the matter never seemed to occur and, in the end, he left the two in their own hut to be looked after by slaves.

  Four months later Oswiu went north to meet Aidan and Talorgan at Dùn Èideann. They had travelled down from the Moray Firth with Aidan on the birlinn that had taken him north. Oswiu knew that his friend was uncomfortable with politics and warfare and wasn’t surprised when Aidan elected not to stay, but to return to Lindisfarne. Both Guret of Strathclyde and Domangart of Dalriada travelled overland to join Oswiu, having received the necessary safe-conducts, and arrived just after Aidan had left. After the usual pleasantries, Oswiu got down to business.

  ‘As I said in my letter inviting you here, Talorc can cause us a great deal of trouble individually, but together we can defeat him.’

  ‘Are you planning a major war to dethrone him then? It would be huge risk. Apart from his cousin, Garnait, who rules Pobla, another cousin, Drest, is now King of Prydenn.’

  ‘Talorgan, where does Fergus of Ardewr stand?’

  ‘Fergus is betrothed to the daughter of Maelgwr, the King of Penntir, a match arranged by his mother. However, he has yet to meet the girl and so the match isn’t certain. If he goes ahead then an alliance between Penntir and Ardewr would be powerful enough to oppose Talorc’ rule. Fergus certainly doesn’t approve of the way the high king deposed me so that his cousin Drest could take the throne, especially as he feels that this places too much power in Talorc’s hands. The high kingship is meant to be for one of the seven kings elected by the rest. With three of the kingdoms ruled by one family there is a danger that Talorc’s family would become the rulers of all of Pictland in perpetuity.’

  ‘So is Fergus willing to join us in opposing Talorc?’ Guret asked.

  ‘He is worried that, if he does, he would be vulnerable unless Maelgwr supports him. Penntir, Prydenn and Pobla all lie along his southern border.’

  ‘Does he think that Maelgwr will join us?’ Domangart wanted to know.

  ‘He suspects not, unless he agrees to marry the girl. All we can hope for is that he will remain neutral for now.’

  ‘You presumably have a plan, Oswiu?’ Guret said.

  ‘Yes, if Fergus will join us, then I would ask the two of you to invade Hyddir and besiege Talorc in Stirling. I will pressure Uuynnid to remain neutral by threatening to invade from Goddodin. With Penntir neutral as well, Fergus might be persuaded to raid Pobla to keep Garnait occupied, leaving Talorgan free to reclaim his throne back from Drest with a little help from me.’

  ‘So it all depends on Penntir? What happens if Maelgwr doesn’t agree to Fergus’ request?’

  ‘Let’s wait and see what they decide first, shall we?’

  ‘Co-ordinating attacks by four different kingdoms will be difficult. I see scope for disaster here.’

  ‘What’s your solution, Guret?’ Oswiu asked.

  ‘To elect you as our leader or, as you Anglo-Saxons term it, Bretwalda.’

  ~~~

  Conomultus had learned a great deal from accompanying Aidan to Ardewr, in particular he discovered that he had a natural interest in the complex relationships between one kingdom and another. Of course, it wasn’t his place to make any contribution to the various discussions, but he’d been present when Aidan, Talorgan and Ròidh had deliberated on the strategy for reclaiming the throne of Prydenn. Officially he’d been present to record the decisions made so that there could be no argument later about the agreement reached and the commitments made.

  Aidan was impressed with the accuracy of the young monk’s record and had asked him to perform the same function at the various meetings between the kings at Dùn Èideann. When someone was needed to act as the messenger between Oswiu as Bretwalda and Fergus, despite his youth, it was agreed that the young monk should act as the go-between.

  In March of 647 AD Conomultus set out to sail back into the Moray Firth to see Fergus, taking with him a letter signed by Oswiu and the other kings. He was also tasked to ascertain, with Ròidh’s help, the outcome of the negotiations with Maelgwr of Penntir. He was escorted by his brother, Catinus, now a warrior in the Bernician warband and Leofsige, a member of Oswiu’s gesith.

  The arrival of the three aroused some interest in the settlement beside Loch Ness as they made their way through it but nobody
challenged them. Conomultus wanted a private word with Bishop Ròidh before he asked for an audience with King Fergus, so he made for the hut beside the church.

  ‘As far as I know Fergus has managed to get an assurance from the Maelgwr that he will remain neutral but, like Aidan, I take little interest in these matters. As a servant of God my concern is for the safety and well-being of my flock, not the struggle for power.’

  ‘But you were happy to attend the meeting where these matters were discussed with King Talogoran, King Fergus and Bishop Aidan,’ Conomultus replied without thinking.

  ‘You’ve a lot to learn, boy, if you want to be a negotiator. Impudence won’t serve you well.’

  ‘I apologise, bishop. You’re quite right, it wasn’t my place to ask such a question. It was merely that I was puzzled.’

  Ròidh sighed. ‘Yes, I suppose it must seem a trifle odd to you. Kings like to consult their bishops about important matters. They like to feel that what they are about to do has the blessing of God and his Son, Jesus. We can hardly refuse, but both Aidan and I are simple men and so we tread a careful path between not upsetting the men of power, on who we depend for assistance to promote Christianity to the people, and getting too involved in temporal matters.’

  ‘I see. I feel even more foolish now.’

  ‘Don’t be. I see a great future ahead of you, but not as an abbot or a bishop. Oswiu’s kingdom and the lands over which he is now bretwalda are likely to grow. He is a great man, greater than his brother Oswald I suspect, and he will need assistance to govern. Nobles can help to some extent, but he is going to need clerks to deal with the detail: keeping records, writing charters and the like. That is where I see your future.’

  Conomultus blushed and glanced at Catinus, who was looking at his brother in a new light. Leofsige had remained outside to ensure that they weren’t interrupted and so hadn’t heard the conversation.