The sound of dogs barking grew louder as they galloped closer. From the vantage point of his horse, Oswiu could see, despite the storm, figures milling around the huddle of buildings that together made the holy house. That they should be without in such weather filled him with foreboding, but he drove the horse on without stopping. Nearing the holy house, he began to see that the sisters of the place were gathered together outside the church, but they were all looking away from him, towards the end of the promontory. Then the curtain of rain drew back further, and as he and his riders swept around the outbuildings of the holy house, he saw three men, armed with spear and sword, standing before the sisters, holding them back.
The men saw him at the same moment Oswiu saw them. Two turned to face him, the third began to back away and then, turning, began to run. Without pausing, Oswiu swept past the first two, leaving his riders to deal with them, for he saw where the third was running and he heard where the sound of hounds baying was coming from.
At the tip of the promontory, where the land fell into the sea, five men stood in line across the spit of land. Facing them, with her back to the fall, was Rhieienmelth, and milling at her feet, barking furiously at the men before them, were her hunting dogs. That was the sound he had heard as they neared the holy house: Rhieienmelth, at bay with her hounds. Some of the dogs lay dead or wounded around her, but the rest maintained their defiance, teeth bared and snarling, as the line of men, swords held in front to protect them from the dogs, slowly advanced. They were pushing Rhieienmelth backwards, until she should either fall or be taken.
But such was the noise of the dogs that the advancing men did not hear the shouts of their companion, running back to them. Nor did he have long to cry out, for Oswiu, riding up behind, cut him down. He looked up from the kill and saw Rhieienmelth. And she saw him.
As Oswiu drove his horse on towards the line of men, angling the animal so he might ride past two or three of them on one pass, Rhieienmelth set her dogs on the advancing men. As the hounds leapt for them, the men struck out with sword, but did not think to guard behind. Two were cut down before the others knew aught of what was happening. The third, seeing the man next to him fall, turned in time to parry Oswiu’s sword slash. Hauling back his horse with all his strength, Oswiu all but forced its hindquarters down to the ground, but the sodden earth slid beneath its hooves and the cliff edge fell away beneath it. Twisting, Oswiu swung his leg free and jumped from the saddle as the horse, crying protest, slipped over the cliff’s edge. Sword in hand, hair dripping storm, Oswiu turned to face the man he had missed. But such was the fear of his onset that the man stood staring at Oswiu with slack jaw, for in truth it seemed that the Hunter himself had descended upon them. Oswiu advanced, sword low, storm behind, and the man, seeing him, turned and tried to run. The other two, seeing what was happening, made to flee as well.
But a man, running with his back to the pursuing teeth, is no match for a pack of hounds.
“Take them!” Rhieienmelth called, and they sprang after the running men.
They did not get far.
Oswiu left the task of finishing the men to his own warriors.
“Rhieienmelth.”
She stood, her back against the furious sea. The waves surged behind her, sounding upon the rocks far below and sending white spume up into the air. The woman who had once been his queen, who had given birth to his children, stared past him, at the dogs worrying the dead men, and the others that lay whining and wounded, or dead, upon the ground.
“They saved me,” she said softly. Then Rhieienmelth looked to the man approaching her. “You saved me,” she said. She looked him in the face. “I did not think you would come.”
“You are here because I listened to lies about you. I had to come.”
Rhieienmelth stared at the face of the man who had fathered her children, and saw there now the shadow of another.
“We both loved him,” she said.
“I know,” said Oswiu. He put his hand out and touched her face. “And I you.”
“I know,” said Rhieienmelth.
Oswiu let his hand fall.
Rhieienmelth pointed at the dead men. “Penda?”
“Yes.”
She looked back to the king. “I have done wrong,” she said.
*
While Oswiu dried himself in front of the fire, Rhieienmelth told him of Œthelwald’s meeting with Penda upon the island in the Humber. She told him how she had advised Œthelwald to march with Penda against his uncle. She told him why.
Oswiu listened and did not speak, for in her words he saw his actions laid bare. When she had finished, and they were silent, he looked into his memory hoard and knew what he found there.
“My brother would not have done as I did.”
“There are few men like Oswald,” said Rhieienmelth.
“And I least of all, though I ever had his example before me.” Oswiu began to put his clothes back on – still damp but no longer dripping. “We must go.”
“Where?”
“To my people. Ahlfrith is leading them into the hills. Let Penda’s army flow like water around them. When the flood has receded, we will return and reclaim our own.”
But Rhieienmelth shook her head. “By coming here, by saving me, you paid the ransom for your fault. But I have fault of my own that I must pay, and that cannot be paid by returning with you.”
“Where would you go then?”
“To right my wrong; to give good counsel after bad; to pull our kin from the treachery of my heart.”
“You would go to Œthelwald? I have not ridden seven leagues to save you from Penda only for you to give yourself into his hands.”
“I will not give myself into his hands. If his army be the size you tell me, then there will be women with it. Amid such a throng it is easy to stay hidden. And who would expect me to go there? Not Penda. No – even though men say Woden sends his ravens to whisper in his ear each night.”
“Who says this?”
“I have heard the tale whispered around the fire by travellers finding shelter against the night.”
Oswiu shook his head. “I know the raven that whispers in his ear and in his dreams, and it is not Woden that sends it.”
“But can you not feel it? Your old gods crowd back around us. They walk in the shadows, beyond the reach of the light, and seek entry into men’s hearts. They have entered Penda’s heart. Where before there was only the desire for glory and for power, something new rules there now and even he knows it not. But I know it. I saw it when I faced him on the island, but I did not know that I saw it then. Only when I returned here, to the holy house, did I see in memory what I had failed to see in sight. Penda fears you now. He fears the Idings with all the fear of dying gods. So earn what time you can against him, but know this: in the end, you must face him.”
Oswiu nodded. “This I think as well. But I would not lose such counsel again, not when I have found it once more.”
But Rhieienmelth shook her head. “One wife under one roof is more than enough.” She smiled and there was in that smile something of the woman Oswiu had known before the shadow had grown between them. “Although you might enjoy it, I doubt the queen would. Particularly a queen with child.”
“I think you speak truly. But still, I would not have saved you only for you to throw your life away again.”
Rhieienmelth laughed. “It was my dogs that saved me. Although you did help. But I promise I will not throw my life away. Not now.”
“Good.” Dressed, Oswiu stood. “Where will you go?”
“South.” Rhieienmelth stood up after him. “I will make my own way.”
“I will send some men with you.”
“Then you will lose them. From what you say, Penda’s army is too great to fight. But so great an army offers another way in. But for that I will need a man, someone who is skilled at adopting other faces and other voices. Do you have one such that you will give me?”
Oswiu thought. “Acca
?”
Rhieienmelth smiled. “Yes, of course. He will be perfect.”
“But Penda knows him.”
“We will not be going to those parts of the camp where the kings set their tents.”
“But it will take time for me to send for Acca to come here and it is not safe for you to remain in this holy house.”
“I will meet him upon the way. Tell Acca that he will find me at the Stone Sisters – but tell him to be quick.”
“I would not have you go alone when armies march through my kingdom: in such times, outlaws and other, darker, creatures emerge from the meres and the shadows to prey upon men – and women.”
“Do not worry. My dogs will look after me.” Rhieienmelth reached down and patted the head of one of the hounds that, seeing his mistress rise, had sat up from where he lay. “They have until now.”
Chapter 8
“He’s burning my land.” Oswiu stood with his sons, Ahlfrith and Ecgfrith, on the flanks of one of the many fort-crowned hills that ran up the spine of the kingdom. From its height, they could see the columns of smoke, rising into the still, sultry air. For the storm that had broken over Oswiu on his ride to Coldingham had presaged not a change to cooler weather, but only a break in the summer’s heat. The day after, the steam of the sun’s rising had covered the land, making it seem as if they rode through a grey sea. But the sun had sucked the water from the land in two or three days and now, three weeks later, as summer edged towards autumn, the land lay brown and dry once more beneath the sapping sun.
Oswiu glanced up into the sky. After so many days of heat, the sky was no longer blue, but bronze. Dust hung in the air, and smoke – from the fires Penda’s army set as they marched north, spreading out on either side of their approach to burn whatever they could not take. From where they stood, Oswiu and his sons could see the army’s baggage train snaking back towards the south, riders scuttling to and from it as ants do when they march. Indeed, from their height, the men might as well have been ants.
“If rain would come, they could not burn so much,” said Ahlfrith.
“Look,” said Ecgfrith, pointing with excitement. “They’re coming this way.”
A troop of riders had peeled off from the main army and was making its way towards the line of hills. This had been the pattern through the summer: Penda’s army making its slow, incendiary way through the low, rich lands of the kingdom, taking what they could and burning everything else, while Oswiu, with his men, kept to the hills, watching but doing nothing more. Many of the men chafed at this, but the older and wiser heads bade them be patient: in the face of such numbers, it was better to wait. Those of his household who could not move fast and far, Oswiu had sent back to their homes and villages, if these lay far enough away from Penda’s line of march. But the army sent men far to gather the food and supplies it needed; halls and hamlets fifteen and twenty miles from the invaders had been raided and burned. So many chose to remain with Oswiu, struggling along after those who could go faster. In this, they were helped by the queen. Her belly was fast swelling and she could no longer ride. In the hills, wagons could make barely a mile a day, so the men carried her upon a hurdle, taking turns from which none were spared: even the king took his place between the poles.
The long way behind White Law, Black Law and Gains Law, where the land levelled and the going was easier for a while, had given Oswiu time and chance to talk to his queen for a while. And she to him.
“You say Rhieienmelth seeks a way into Penda’s camp, that she might persuade Œthelwald to turn back from his treachery?”
Oswiu, sweating between the poles, did not turn round but walked steadily on over the dry ground. Normally, his feet would be squelching through thick moss here, sinking into its wet grasp. But the summer had dried even the moss to a brown dead skin upon cracked mud. It made the walking easier, but it was harder on the feet – particularly when carrying a pregnant queen.
“Yes,” said Oswiu. “That is what she told me. Although with Rhieienmelth, there is never any telling what she might do.”
“It is as well you did not bring her back with you.”
“That is what she said.”
“She did?”
“‘One wife under one roof is more than enough.’ That is what she said.”
“Then why do men not speak of Rhieienmelth the Deep Minded as they do of Eanflæd the Wise?”
“I suppose because her mind is not what men first remark on when they see Rhieienmelth.”
“Oh.” The queen fell silent for a while as Oswiu laboured on. The man holding the rear set of hurdles, ears agog, listened for further news that he might spread around the camp when they stopped for the night.
“Do you think she will try to speak with Œthelwald?” Eanflæd asked after they had marched in silence for some while.
Oswiu stopped and put down the hurdle.
“Yes, I think she will,” he said. He gestured to the nearest men. “Your turn.”
Now, as he stood upon the flank of the hill, looking down at the army burning its way through his kingdom, he wondered if Rhieienmelth was there, among them. Coifi, he knew, was with Penda’s army, although the old priest had not managed to send any word to them so far. But there was little he could tell that they could not see. Penda’s strategy was plain to see. To burn him into battle. But he had no intention of doing what his enemy wanted.
“Daddy,” said Ecgfrith. He pointed at the smoke that hung, in place of clouds, over the kingdom. “If Penda keeps burning, will there be anything left when we come down from the hills?”
“Yes, yes of course there will be. He can’t burn everything.”
“Can’t he?” Ahlfrith turned to his father. “He seems to be trying.”
“That is what we did, when we raided Deira. It is the way of war. Some burning, some pillaging, and then a return to your hall with boasts and stories and no lives lost.”
“I think Penda fights a different sort of war, Father.”
“Daddy, look.” Ecgfrith pointed once more.
Even from this distance, they could see that the troop of riders approaching the hill had unfurled a flag of truce.
Penda wanted to talk.
*
“The High King wishes no more destruction to be visited upon this land.”
The messenger stood before Oswiu.
Seeing the riders approaching under the flag of truce, Oswiu had sent some of his own riders to meet them, with orders to bring back the messenger, and the messenger alone, blindfolded and hooded, that he might not learn where he was being taken.
Now, Oswiu met with him in his tent. It was stifling within, but only when the flap was pulled down did he allow the man’s hood to be lifted and give him leave to speak.
“Then tell the king of the Mercians to return to his own land. And let the wolf call the foxes back to their lairs too.”
“The wolf does not return to his den until he has made his kill.”
“Then he will wait long, and far from home.”
“The High King proposes another way.”
Oswiu felt sweat trickling down the side of his face. “Is that what you have come to tell?”
“In asking peace, you gave already one pound of gold and four of silver. If you would have peace, then the High King will look with favour on your plea – if it comes weighted with gold.”
Oswiu flicked the sweat away. “How much?”
“All of it.”
“All?”
“All.” The messenger made the courtesy. “If you would have an end to the burning, then send word. You will know where we are to be found.”
“I can smell you.”
The messenger made the courtesy again. “Gold shall end the fires.”
When he had gone, blindfolded and taken from the camp, Oswiu called Ahlfrith to him and went in search of the queen. They found her, resting in the shade of a hawthorn that grew bent over, as a man bent with age, although it was wind that bent the tree’s back
.
The king squatted down beside her.
“It is too hot,” said Eanflæd.
Oswiu lay his hand upon her belly. “I can feel him,” he said.
“Her,” said Eanflæd. “I think this one is a girl. She sits differently to Ecgfrith; lower.”
“Oh. A girl.”
“Do you want another son?” Eanflæd smiled tiredly at her husband. “If this be a girl, I will try again to give you a son.”
Ahlfrith coughed. Oswiu looked up and laughed. “Sorry,” he said. “But if this one is a girl then it will be the easier for you. Two sons are easier to provide for than three.”
“Father, we are here to speak on Penda’s offer.”
“Yes.” Oswiu gestured. “Sit down. There is shade here.” He looked over to where his household and those others who had followed him lay sprawled out in whatever shade they could find, while the horses searched for grass that still held a little sap. “Would it be so bad, to put aside the throne? To live in these hills, far from men?”
Ahlfrith shook his head. “Father, you may wish to put aside the throne, but our people look to you for protection and hope. They see their homes burned, their crops pillaged and their children taken as slaves. And all we do is skulk in the hills and wait for the despoilers to slake their appetites. This is not the way of a king.”
But before Oswiu could speak, Eanflæd answered. “I have passed the cup to many men, many brave warriors. I have heard them speak their deeds and boast of their battles. Yet I know that, for the most part, those battles were but the chance meeting of men, with victory going to the side that did not slip upon the bloody ground, or which fought with its back to the sun. In song and in hall, they say the way of kings is war. If we but endure against such an army, that is victory.” Eanflæd put her hand upon her belly. “If we endure, then this child shall live.”
Chapter 9
Not since the days of the emperors had such an army marched through this land. From where they watched, concealed within a tangled copse of trees, it seemed that the very earth seethed with men. The tents of the army spread far over the brown, parched earth. At its centre, visible despite the dust that hung in the bronze air, were the tents of the kings, each marked by a banner. But these banners all made a rough circle around the centre, where flew the wolf banner of the Iclingas.
Oswiu, King of Kings Page 48