by H A CULLEY
‘Not the world, just Prydenn,’ Aidan replied.
‘Why?’ Oswiu asked, somewhat alarmed as he thought that he had left the north subdued and under the control of his nephew.
‘Ròidh has decided that he wants to remain as Bishop of Ardewr now that he’s been reunited with his brother. I suppose I should have expected it but I now need to find a replacement for Prydenn, and also more priests as some of those who accompanied Ròidh into exile want to stay with him. Consequently, I need to find more priests for Prydenn in addition to the bishop.’
‘Surely Ròidh doesn’t need them in addition to those who were there before?’
‘You might think so, but he’s unimpressed with their quality and their debauched lifestyle, as he puts it. By that he means that most have married and even had children. He’s defrocked them.’
‘I see.’
Oswiu did his best to hide a smile. It was not unusual for Celtic monks and priests to marry - celibacy was a Roman rule – but dedicated churchmen like Aidan and Ròidh deplored the practice. Oswiu was as devout a Christian as the next man, but he couldn’t understand how a real man could forgo the pleasures of the flesh.
‘Furthermore, he’s decided that the heathen Picts of Cait need to be converted.’
‘Does he have any idea how big Cait is? From what I’ve been told, it’s the biggest of the Pictish kingdoms by some margin.
‘Yes, you’re right. I’ve tried to explain that to him, using Conomultus as an intermediary, but now the wretched boy has asked to remain with Ròidh to help with his mission.’
‘Have you anyone in mind as the new bishop?’ Oswiu asked after a pause.
‘Yes, but you won’t like it.’
‘Go on, tell me,’ Oswiu said with a sigh.
‘Utta.’
‘Utta? Do you really have no better source of abbots and bishops than my chaplains? First Offa and now Utta. No, you’ll have to find someone else.’
‘Can you think of anyone better to keep the Picts in line? He’ll be ideal.’
‘Very well. Who do you intend to inflict on me as my new chaplain?’ he asked after a pause.
‘Conomultus, if only to stop him being killed by the barbarians who live in the wild highlands of Cait.’
‘Isn’t he a bit young?’
‘In years maybe, but he is wise and has some experience after his time in Ardewr.’
‘Very well; however, I don’t suppose he’ll be delighted to exchange the adventurous life of a missionary in Cait for the somewhat more tranquil existence as my chaplain.’
‘Tranquil? Life with you is never tranquil, Oswiu. Besides the boy worships you. You’re his hero in many ways.’
‘Really? I’m not sure I want to be the object of my chaplain’s veneration. I’d hate to shatter any illusions he has about me.’
He grinned at Aidan but the bishop gave him a sour look.
‘At least you know what your faults are, Oswiu, and you do try and repent; not always successfully.’
‘They are calling my brother a saint, you know.’
‘Oswald was as fallible as the rest of us,’ Aidan replied, ‘but he’s been blessed by Christ. Many miracles are attributed to his name.’
‘Yes, I know. Pilgrims are starting to travel to Bebbanburg to worship the casket containing the arm I recovered from the apple tree near Maserfield. They say it has healing properties.’
‘Not only that, they’ve renamed the settlement near there Oswald’s Tree in his honour. I hear that Penda is furious about it.’
‘I can imagine. Well, I can’t conceive that anyone would regard me as a saint when I’m dead.’
Aidan chuckled. ‘Nor me.’
At that moment one of the novices brought in a platter of stale bread and a pitcher of water and set it down on a side table. The boy bowed to Oswiu and left.
‘I suspect you had something else on your mind when you called here instead of rushing back to your family.’
Oswiu grinned again.
‘You know me too well. As you know, Eanflæd was baptised by Bishop Paulinus and brought up as a Christian, but one who follows the Roman Church. Therefore we keep having ecclesiastical arguments. The one before I sailed north was about the date of Easter. She insists that it should be observed on the first Sunday after the first full moon following the vernal equinox. I don’t need to tell you that we set the date to coincide with that of the Jewish Feast of Passover, which is on the actual day of the full moon following the equinox. We therefore end up celebrating Easter twice.’
‘In 325 BC the Council of Nicaea was convened by the Roman Emperor Constantine to regularise Christian worship throughout the Empire. Amongst many other things, it established that Easter should be held on the Sunday following the full moon. Unfortunately, the Irish Church decided to stick with the original link to the Passover.’
‘What do you think?’
‘I follow the teachings of the mother house on Iona. Whilst I live I shall do my best to observe our traditions.’
‘I see.’ Oswiu sighed. ‘Then it seems that my wife and I will continue to celebrate Easter on different days. It’s very confusing for the children though and a pain for everyone else.’
Aidan shrugged.
‘Why don’t you celebrate Easter officially on the correct date and then allow your wife to hold her services on the other date as well, but insist that your children and everyone else does as you do?’
‘It’s easy to see that you’ve never been married, Aidan.’
‘I’ve found that the easiest route to conversion for a community is through its womenfolk, but I’ve never pretended to understand them.’
~~~
Cenwalh waited with King Anna and the latter’s warband hidden in one of the few woods that dotted the bleak, flat landscape at the edge of the Fens. If there was trouble they would fade away along the secret paths that ran through the vast area of bog interspersed with open water that surrounded the settlement at Ely where Anna had based himself for this meeting. The King of the East Angles had chosen the meeting place with care. It wasn’t an area that belonged to him, or to the Middle Angles. It was a wasteland whose inhabitants were fiercely independent. However, they were quite happy to take payment for their co-operation and to provide guides.
Anna would only allow Peada and his gesith into Ely for the talks, therefore it didn’t really matter how many warriors he brought along as escort. Once in Ely Peada would be cut off and Cenwalh hoped to intimidate him into agreeing to his terms. He was well aware that Penda wouldn’t recognise the treaty if it wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but then he’d be foresworn and his reputation would suffer.
His failure to put down the insurrection in Wessex had already done considerable damage to his standing and, coupled with the growing prestige of Oswiu as Bretwalda of the North, repudiation of his son’s agreement would further undermine Penda’s efforts to make himself overlord of the south.
Finally, a day late, Peada appeared leading a number of horsemen. It was a day of torrential rain, which rather spoilt his grand entrance. The drenched riders were followed by a horde of muddy warriors on foot and a baggage train that stretched back a long way. Carts kept getting stuck in the morass that had been a road and so it was spread out for over a mile.
Cenwalh did a rough count and estimated the mounted contingent at around thirty men – presumably the gesith of the King of the Middle Anglians – and the footmen seemed to total just over a hundred, though it was difficult to count them as the squally conditions hid some of them from view at times.
What neither Anna nor Cenwalh had anticipated was Peada’s refusal to go to Ely for the meeting. Anna’s gesith and warband came to eighty – far less than Paeda had brought - and Cenwalh didn’t have more than a handful of followers. Both men began to feel extremely vulnerable, not without reason. Penda’s instructions to his son were quite clear: he was to get the man to agree to become Penda’s vassal or he was to be killed.
; When Peada arose the next morning sunshine had replaced the rain but the East Anglians had disappeared into the Fens. He sent some scouts to follow their tracks but, after three had sunk into a bog and disappeared, he gave that idea up. He was now in something of a quandary. He daren’t go back to Penda and tell him he’d failed to solve the Wessex problem, but he didn’t know how to proceed.
‘We can’t just sit here,’ one of his eorls told him. ‘Every time we send out a forage party it gets ambushed by the Fens people and we can’t follow them and kill them because they disappear into the marshes. Our warriors are getting demoralised and some of my men have already deserted. I don’t suppose that they will be the only ones to slip away.’
‘Yes, I’m well aware of the situation,’ Peada replied testily. ‘You know damned well what my father’s reaction would be if I slunk away now without securing peace in Wessex. He’s desperate to attack Oswiu before he gets too powerful and to do that he needs quiescent neighbours in the south.’
He regretted baring his soul like that as soon as he’d finished speaking. It was a symptom of how frustrated he felt.
‘Well, then. It looks as if you’ll have to go to Ely and negotiate, doesn’t it?’
It was the reluctant conclusion that Peada had come to himself but it didn’t help to hear it from the lips of one of his nobles.
The next day he rode forward with his gesith and waited where Anna and Cenwalh had been encamped. An hour later an elderly guide and three surly looking locals armed with spears appeared and the guide spoke to him in a language he didn’t understand.
‘He’s asking you to dismount and follow him on foot, Cyning,’ one of his gesith who spoke Brythonic helpfully explained.
Grumbling under his breath Peada did as he was bid and his gesith also dismounted. However the three spearmen barred the path after Peada had passed them. His men were incensed by this and would have slain the spearmen had Peada not told them to stop. Eventually he managed to negotiate with his guide, via the interpreter, and five other men were allowed to accompany the fuming Peada.
He arrived on the island of Ely that arose out of the surrounding fens like an inverted bowl. The headman of the settlement greeted him and he was shown to a primitive circular hut, bare apart from a fire in the central hearth and beds of cut reeds around the wall. Young boys brought bowls of water for him and his men to wash most of the mud and slime off themselves and then brought them a simple meal of eel stew. It wasn’t until he lay down to sleep that Peada realised that he was now effectively the prisoner of King Anna and these strange fishermen.
‘My father is prepared to allow you to resume the rule of Wessex provided that you swear to accept him as your overlord,’ Peada told Cenwalh the next morning.
He’d decided to skip the usual formalities and preamble and get straight down to the crux of the matter. He couldn’t wait to get out of this place and didn’t want to spend another uncomfortable night there if he could help it.
‘In other words he wants me to be his sub-king.’
‘I suppose so, yes.’
‘My great great great grandfather, Cerdic, conquered what is now Wessex and it has been an independent kingdom ever since. I would rather die than betray my heritage.’
‘Perhaps that can be arranged,’ the captain of Peada’s gesith muttered in his ear, causing the king to smile mirthlessly.
‘It is only a way of ensuring that Mercia and Wessex become, and remain, friends from now on.’
‘Perhaps your father would like to become my vassal then? It would achieve the same purpose.’
Peada gave him a pained look.
‘I think we both know who holds the whip hand here.’
‘I’m not so sure. Penda has failed to subdue Wessex and, from what I hear, the revolt against his rule and the cruel taxation of my people is growing.’
‘That’s true and Penda’s patience is exhausted. So far he has treated the Saxons of Wessex leniently, but no more. The next vill that refuses to pay its taxes will be burnt to the ground and its people executed. That’ll continue until the wretched Saxons learn their lesson.’
Cenwalh’s face paled and Anna gasped in disbelief.
‘He wouldn’t dare. His name would be anathema throughout England. He would be regarded as a barbarian,’ Anna almost yelled.
‘But he is a pagan barbarian, or had you forgotten. He isn’t bound by your Christian mores and morals and doesn’t need to confess his sins to a priest. He will do what is necessary to achieve his ends.’
In fact Peada was bluffing. He knew full well that a scorched earth policy in Wessex might well subdue the West Saxons, but it would also alienate his father’s present allies. The threat had had its desired effect on Cenwalh, however.
‘Very well. I’ll do as you ask, up to a point. I’ll become Penda’s ally and repudiate my alliance with Oswiu, but I won’t become his vassal, his sub-king. If I did I doubt I’d be accepted back as King of Wessex. My people would say I’d betrayed them, and they’d be right.’
Peada nodded slowly. It might just be enough to appease his father.
‘I’ll take you proposal back to Penda. I suggest we meet again at the edge of the Fens the day after the next full moon. This time I’ll only bring my gesith, if I have Anna’s safe conduct, and you are to bring no more than thirty. I’ll trust you not to have more men hiding in those damned marshes.’
Anna nodded and Cenwalh assured him that he would bring no more than thirty men. He would have to borrow some of the East Anglians even then; only nine of his own gesith had survived to flee into exile with him.
~~~
‘You’ve heard I suppose?’
Oswiu was sitting in his chamber off the king’s hall at Bebbanburg with Eanflæd. In front of his chair three year-old Ecgfrith played with a pair of carved models of warriors armed with sword and shield whilst his daughter, six year-old Alchflaed, was learning embroidery from her step-mother. The baby, Osthryth, was sleeping in a cradle beside his wife’s chair.
‘Heard what, Oswiu?’
‘Cenwalh has made peace with that bloody man, Penda, in return for Wessex. Not only does that mean the Mercians will be freed from the insurrections within Wessex but he is now effectively bretwalda of southern England. He’s even managed to get Anna to accept what he likes to call an emissary to the East Anglian court.’
‘You’re forgetting my cousin, Eorcenberht. Kent will never ally itself with Penda whilst he rules.’
‘That’s true, but he may well be forced into a position of neutrality now that he has the East Saxons across the Thames estuary, Wessex and the Middle Saxons all arrayed against him along his borders. He’s not in a strong position.’
His wife didn’t reply but her body language betrayed her feelings. She thought Oswiu was wrong and Kent would stand firm against Penda and his allies. Oswiu knew that Eocenberht was vulnerable, especially since Penda had seized Lundenwic which stood on the north bank of the Thames just where the north-east tip of Kent met the north-west corner of the Kingdom of the South Saxons. From there Penda could threaten either kingdom. The South Saxons had remained neutral over the past few years but they were unlikely to support Kent, given their vulnerable situation.
Wisely Oswiu decided not to argue with his wife. There was no point in falling out with her when there was nothing to be gained. Instead his thoughts turned to his children. Elhfrith was now nine and he was glad that he had listened to Eanflæd and brought the boy into his hall to be brought up. He was out at the moment playing with his friends but he had taken an interest in the boy and they now had a good relationship. The same couldn’t be said of Aldfrith. He had now been a monk at Melrose for the past year and Offa had written to him recently saying that the boy was doing well. He had shown an aptitude for administration and he was being trained by the monk in charge of the books of account to record the rents paid to the monastery by its tenants. He regretted his estrangement from his eldest son but the feeling was transitory. Oswiu
might have regrets but he had too many current concerns to devote much time to the past.
Even the growing power of Mercia wasn’t his primary worry at the moment. It was Deira. Oswine had been stirring up trouble for him in the south of Bernicia. Iuwine, Eorl of Hexham and father of that unruly young monk, Wilfrid, had obviously been taking bribes from Oswine to ignore Deiran raids across the border. They had only been minor affairs so far but it was Iuwine’s duty to put a stop to them.
After his failure to report to Oswiu after his abortive mission to Cait, Oswiu had warned him that he was in danger of losing his earldom. After that the man had kept his head down and, with his son studying abroad, Oswiu had rather forgotten about him. Now he was causing Oswiu problems again and this time he wouldn’t get off so lightly; neither would that fool Oswine. However, he needed to act swiftly before Penda was in a position to attack him.
The next morning Catinus found himself as a member of a group of mounted warriors led by Dunstan heading for Hexham with instructions to escort Iuwine back to Bebbanburg. Oswiu had sent twenty men; more would seem too threatening and less wouldn’t be enough if there was trouble.
When they arrived Dunstan found the gates in the palisade around the eorl’s hall shut.
‘Open up in the king’s name. I have an urgent message for the eorl.’
The sentries standing on the parapet looked down at the group of horsemen and began debating amongst themselves.
‘Come on, hurry up. I haven’t got all day. You know who I am – Dunstan, the master of the king’s horses.’
Five minutes later the right hand gate swung open sufficiently to allow a man wearing a byrnie and a helmet to squeeze through, then it clanged shut again. Dunstan recognised the man as one of Iuwine’s gesith.
Greetings Sighard.’
‘Good morrow, Dunstan. I apologise for the less than effusive welcome but no one is quite sure what is happening. The Deirans have ben raiding near here recently and four days ago Eorl Iuwine rode out for a meeting with King Oswine, but he hasn’t returned.’