‘I shall have need of a few of your late husband’s men, Sigrid Kveldulfsdaughter. And that horse of yours too.’ Anyone but the Archbishop and I’d have found it hard to believe my ears. I drew a deep breath. Mother, I thought, you shall be proud of me. I smiled sweetly and thought myself that I sounded quite calm.
‘Ragnar’s hird are sworn to me, Your Grace. They have chosen me as their chieftain. They go nowhere without me. As for North Wind, you may recall a previous occasion when someone other than me tried to ride him.’ His eyebrows met across the bridge of his nose and his clean-shaven cheeks reddened. I couldn’t see his eyes but concentrated on the angry eyebrows. He had the bearing of a warrior and towered above me. For a moment my instincts got the better of me and my sword-hand moved towards Dragonclaw. Pain pulled me up and I disguised the movement by putting both hands on my hips. Wulfstan looked at me. His eyebrows returned to normal. He snorted with laughter.
‘I don’t agree with Queen Gunnhild about many things but I think she has your measure, Sigrid.’ Then he turned serious and said: ‘But you must understand that you cannot be a man. Be sensible and go home to your children and your farm. Leave fighting and politics to the men.’
‘I have no desire to be a man. I am a woman warrior. Ragnar not only accepted that but was proud. So was my father who taught me most of my warrior craft. I have for some time had my own group of warriors who are sworn to me and now Ragnar’s men have decided to join them.’ He put his hands on my shoulders, let them slide down my arms to take hold of my clenched fists. It was a gentle gesture, almost a caress. My hands disappeared between his huge paws and he held them still.
‘Sigrid, I have seen you fight and I acknowledge your skill. But you belong to a bygone era; a time of legends and superstition. My dear child, it is time for you to come into the fold, accept the protection of the Good Shepherd. He has been seeking you for a long time. There among the rest of the holy flock you will find peace.’ He held my gaze. His eyes were hazel brown, the whites shot through with red. A little smile played on his lips. I didn’t know how to respond. My father’s words occurred to me: if uncertain kneel.
‘Your Grace, I am grateful for your concern.’ I slowly freed my hands, curtsied and said; ‘You will let me know when you are ready to leave. I have only four warriors whole enough to join the rest of your escort. They will be under my command.’ He sighed, thought awhile and made his decision.
‘I can’t have soldiers under the command of a woman. Four won’t make much difference. Send them home. But I do have need of your horse. You may ride with me. I’ll give you an escort to take you home when we’re finished.’
I spent half the night trying to work out how I could avoid going with the Archbishop. The morning found me no wiser. I went to look for Olvir. He was better informed than me.
‘We’re headed for Aedred’s court. He’s on his way from Chester. We’re to meet him in a small burgh north of there. Wulfstan will negotiate for Aedred to accept Eirik as King of Jorvik. Cuaran has already left.’
‘How do you know all that?’ He winked.
‘I’m not the only spy in Wulfstan’s stable.’
‘Shall you come with us?’
‘Yes, and poor Ansgar as well. He’s not best pleased.’
‘Wulfstan wants me to send my hird home.’ Olvir thought for a moment.
‘It might not be a bad idea. If you have to leave in a hurry it’ll be easier with just you and me.’
‘You think there’ll be trouble? We should be safe with the Archbishop.’
‘Not sure, just a feeling. And remember Aedred is very different to Edmund.’
‘What shall I do about North Wind? I can’t let Wulfstan give him to Aedred. I have lost enough. I don’t want to lose him as well.’ To my embarrassment I started to cry. Olvir put his arms round me and rested his cheek on top of my head. He rocked me like a child until my tears abated. I wiped my face and hiccupped:
‘And even if I tried I don’t think I’d get away with stealing him back twice.’ We looked at each other and, in the middle of all our worry and sorrow, giggled like children.
‘There might be a way,’ said Olvir.
Kveldulf and Nanna got ready to set off with my hird. They were both smiling and excited.
‘It will be good to get back to Becklund,’ said Kveldulf and Nanna nodded.
‘I suggest you don’t go straight there. Let people come and see you at Buttermere first.’
‘Buttermere?’ They spoke in unison.
‘Yes, you are now master and mistress of Buttermere Farm,’ I said. ‘It was Ragnar’s farm and now it’s yours.’ Kveldulf looked confused.
‘You mean we have to live there?’
‘Yes, it belongs to you. You are responsible for it but I’m sure Thora and Lothar will continue to help you run it like they did for your father. The main difference will be that when you are away Nanna will be in charge.’ Kveldulf looked confused and Nanna looked frightened.
‘I thought Buttermere Farm belonged to Thora Sweinsdaughter,’ she said.
‘Well,’ said Kveldulf, ‘I knew it was Far’s farm but I didn’t think about…’
‘Your Aunt Thora will not feel displaced,’ I said hoping I’d be proved right, ‘she will support you as she did me when I lived there. And Lothar is a good farmer, he’s made Buttermere prosper.’
‘But Far always lived at Becklund.’
‘There’s nothing remarkable in a husband staying on his wife’s farm, but a married son, with his own place, should not live with his mother. Unless he falls on bad times and, I pray to Frey that you don’t.’ Nanna rallied and seemed to grasp the situation.
‘It will be good to have Thora Sweinsdaughter to teach me about the running of a household. I never had to do anything at home, I have much to learn.’
‘Is she really as modest as that?’ I asked Olvir when they had all left and we stood looking after them.
‘Probably. You see, not all women are like you, Sigrid.’ I glared at him daring him to complete the sentence with ‘thankfully.’ He didn’t. He smiled which was just as bad.
My son, my daughter-in-law and my hird disappeared from view. I turned and almost stumbled over Unn.
‘The Archbishop told you to send your men,’ she said. ‘So I thought I could stay with you.’ I laughed.
‘Where else would you be, Unn? Of course you stay with me.’
‘Brother Ansgar, too, thought it would be better for me to stay.’
Yes, I thought, Ansgar has scented a prospective convert and wants to keep her close.
Wulfstan called us. It was time to set off. Unn frowned but didn’t argue, when I told her to ride Meadowsweet. I mounted Lord of the Fells and couldn’t hold back a groan at the searing pain in my shoulder. Olvir had to use all the skills Varg had taught him to calm North Wind who was not best pleased to see me on his stablemate. Wulfstan watched us but didn’t seem to recognise that charcoal and whitewash had been judiciously applied to make the two stallions interchangeable. I could see the difference, so could Olvir but I didn’t think anyone else would be able to. I was wrong.
‘Sigrid Kveldulfsdaughter, I did promise Harald to bring his horse back.’ Unn gave me an accusing look.
‘Unn, I promise, I’ll make it up to him. This has to be done.’ She didn’t look convinced. ‘Unn, North Wind can not be replaced.’
‘But I promised.’
‘And I promise you I will take responsibility for this. Harald will not blame you.’ She still looked worried but, when the Archbishop gave the signal to set off, she fell in next to Ansgar behind me and Olvir.
It was not an easy ride. North Wind kept worrying Lord of the Fells who would not be cowed. The two stallions kept us on the alert and when we made camp at the end of the day both Olvir and I were exhausted.
‘You’d better be worth it,’ I said to North Wind and slipped him a piece of apple.
‘Careful, we’re watched,’ whispered Olvir. I turned to fin
d the Archbishop’s eyes on me. I made a fuss of Lord of the Fells as well and even Meadowsweet got her muzzle stroked.
We reached Aedred’s temporary court in two days. He was simply but comfortably set up in a hall inside a fortified village. We rode towards a gate-house, watched by sullen looking warriors from the boardwalk. An official in long robes and jewel encrusted cap welcomed Wulfstan but refused entry to his body guard. Olvir, Ansgar and I were waved forward. Unn followed without being challenged.
‘This is it,’ whispered Olvir and threw me a smile. He looked like he was enjoying himself. I definitely was not. Unn looked sullen and her sword-arm twitched. Ansgar took her by the hand.
‘Stay by me, my child,’ he said. ‘Just pray to the Good Lord for calm and it will come.’ Unn exhaled loudly enough for us all to hear.
We were conducted into the hall; Wulfstan in front, Ansgar and Unn an incongruous pair hand-in-hand and last Olvir and I. From outside I heard the usual commotion when strangers tried to handle North Wind.
‘Sounds worse than usual,’ I said. ‘I think Lord of the Fells has joined in.’
‘That’s my boy,’ said Olvir. I stifled a nervous giggle and made sure Dragonclaw was safely hidden under my cloak. The smile died on my face when four warriors stepped up to surround Wulfstan. Ansgar cried out. I thought I heard Unn growl and hoped I was wrong.
‘You shall not lay hands on God’s anointed!’ shouted Ansgar.
‘I believe that’s me,’ said a dry voice. King Aedred entered and everything, bar the shouting from outside, went quiet. The man, who called himself King of All England, was a miserable looking specimen. I should know by now that kings don’t always look regal. In the days when kings were elected they looked the part, or so my father used to say. My royal uncles were both tall, broad in the shoulders with the bearings of true warriors. Aedred didn’t look strong enough to lift a sword, never mind engage in battle. In the silence I heard his stomach rumble and he pulled a face as if it pained him.
‘On your knees,’ snarled one of the warriors. All except Wulfstan obeyed. I took care that Dragonclaw stayed concealed under my cloak and noted with relief Unn doing the same.
‘What is the meaning of this?’ said Wulfstan.
‘You have vexed me one time too many, Wulfstan. You are to be conducted to Jedburgh where you shall reside until I am satisfied that you are no longer a threat to my supremacy in the North.’
‘This,’ Wulfstan’s powerful voice reached into the furthest corners of the hall, ‘this is the doing of Abbot Dunstan. He has again poured his poisonous slander into you ears.’ The King waved his hand in an impatient movement.
‘Spare me your protestations, Wulfstan. You are the snake here. Traitor and oath-breaker to me and to my brothers before me.’ He doubled over as if in the grip of a cramp and all but fell onto an elaborately decorated chair. His hands gripped the dragon heads carved on the ends of the armrests until it looked like he was strangling the beasts. Behind him, on the backrest, the heads of animals I did not know looked away from him. I couldn’t help thinking they turned their backs because they saw him as unworthy. We all waited while he settled. An elderly woman approached and sat down next to him. Her haughty demeanour was emphasised by her heavily embroidered gown which shimmered in gold and silver.
‘You don’t owe him an explanation,’ she said. Wulfstan bowed in her direction.
‘Mater Regis,’ he said, ‘my sincere wishes for your continued health and that of your son, of course.’ It was perfectly obvious that he meant nothing of the kind but he must have thought he had nothing to lose as his arms were already pinned to his sides by King Aedred’s men.
‘Who are these people?’ said the King’s mother. Her son sat, pale and tight-lipped, seemingly relieved that she was taking over.
‘My head-scribe and one of his assistants, a servant-girl and Sigrid Kveldulfsdaughter, the niece of King Eirik Haraldson. She is wayward and headstrong but can be relied on to take your message to her Uncle. I assume you’d prefer to negotiate that way rather than meet his victorious army again.’ At this Aedred rallied and shouted:
‘You dare threaten your King, Wulfstan?’ The King’s mother joined in.
‘You go too far this time, Archbishop. Guards!’ The men had obviously had their instructions. I watched as Wulfstan was turned round by his captors. The tall, powerful figure helpless in their grip. As they passed me he bowed his head and smiled.
‘Farewell, Daughter. Never doubt, I always wanted your best.’ Next to me Olvir called out:
‘Your Grace!’ Wulfstan shook his head and said over his shoulder:
‘We’ll finish that game some other time, Olvir.’
‘Sigrid Kveldulfsdaughter, I know that name.’ The King’s mother fixed me with a stare that made me think of Gunnhild. I knew what was coming. ‘Is she not that aberration who fought your brother’s army somewhere and then stole his horse?’ I was tired of this. I welcomed the opportunity to put the record straight. I bowed my head.
‘Your Majesty, it is true that I am a woman warrior, it is true that I fought King Edmund’s army at Leicester. But I did not steal his horse. My horse was appropriated by Anlaf Sigfrithson, the one they call Cuaran, because he wanted to give it to your son.’
‘I can quite believe that,’ Aedred muttered under his breath. I felt unsure which of them might be biddable and tried to fix both of them with my gaze.
‘If anything, the horse was stolen from me. I just took back what was mine. King Edmund could not have known that.’ Next to me Olvir had stopped breathing. The King shifted in his seat and let off a long, loud fart. Then, looking relieved, he sat up straight.
‘So, this horse, it is supposed to be quite remarkable in strength and beauty.’
‘Sire, North Wind is a good horse but his qualities may have been exaggerated in the re-telling. Besides he is now getting old and is past his best.’
‘My son, the King, always has room for another stallion in his stable.’ I managed to smile.
‘I would be honoured if Your Majesties would accept my horse as a gift.’ Unn swung round to face me.
‘Oh Mistress, no!’ I glared at her. Ansgar took her hand and patted it.
‘There, there,’ he soothed.
‘I promised!’ Unn’s voice was little more than a whisper but the King’s mother leaned forward.
‘Who is that? What is she saying?’
‘My servant made a promise to my son that she would take care to return North Wind. It was rash of my son to exact the promise. He has no right to my horse. He may even have said it as a joke. He wants North Wind to breed from.’ I tried to stop myself babbling. The King listened, his head tilted to one side. When I finally stopped he said:
‘I accept your gift.’ Unn’s breathing was fast and desperate. I wished I had taken more trouble to persuade her that her promise was not binding. The King and his mother got up and, preceded by a couple of warriors, led the way outside.
North Wind and Lord of the Fells had put their rivalry to one side and made joint cause against the royal grooms. They were still carrying saddles and bridles and stood together in a corner of the yard looking quite contented helping themselves from a burst grain-sack.
‘They’ll get swollen bellies,’ I said and went up to the pair. I removed the sack and led them by the reins to the centre of the yard. Olvir came next to me and I said in a loud voice:
‘Take North Wind to the King.’ Olvir gripped Lord of the Fell’s reins. So far so good. I looked at Unn. She was shifting from foot to foot, looking like she performed a little dance. Ansgar still held her hand. Olvir held out the reins towards the King. Aedred smiled and accepted them. He stroked Lord of the Fell’s muzzle. Lord of the Fells moved his lips expecting a treat. Aedred laughed.
‘This is not what I’ve been told about this horse’s temper,’ he said.
‘Of course he has calmed down with age,’ I said and added: ‘And he likes you. I can see that.’
&n
bsp; ‘I have a hand with horses.’ He moved to the side and made ready to mount.
‘Yes Sire, that’s ob…’ Unn’s agonised scream interrupted any further flattery. She snatched her hand from Ansgar’s grip, ran up to Lord of the Fells, pushed Aedred out of the way and was in the saddle before anyone had time to register what was happening.
Lord of the Fells responded to the familiar touch of Unn’s heels and went straight into a gallop. They headed for the gate and almost got there. Two guards tried to bar their way with crossed spears. Unn drew her sword and bending forward over Lord of the Fell’s neck thrust it into the face of one of them. He fell backwards and was trampled under the iron-shod hooves. The other was kicked and crawled to the side to escape. But it had given a half score of warriors time to rally. Men shouted, Unn cried out and Lord of the Fells neighed. Unn was pulled from her seat. A spear pierced her chest. Swords and axes flashed as they hacked Unn to death in front of my eyes. I screamed and reached for Dragonclaw. She was not even half drawn before my arms were pinned to my sides. A sharp pain on the back of my head, then nothing.
I woke in darkness. I felt damp straw. I hurt. From somewhere I heard neighing. North Wind and Lord of the Fells, prisoners, as was I. Olvir, where was Olvir? And … nooooo! The memory of Unn’s mangled, lifeless body. I closed my eyes. It made no difference I could still see her as clearly as if she lay beside me. I had sacrificed my faithful Unn on the altar of my own vanity. My loyal fostring, dead because I couldn’t bear to give up North Wind.
I tried to sit up. It sent a wave of pain from my shoulder through the length of my arm. The spear-wound had opened up again and stuck to my tunic. My head threatened to split in half. I lay back down and closed my eyes.
When I next became aware of my surroundings it was because someone hoisted me into a standing position. Both shoulders screamed pain at me. My legs didn’t carry so I was dragged between two guards. One of them was particularly rough. He had a limp and one hand in a bandage. I suspected I was being made to pay for damage done by North Wind. The rough surface of the courtyard scraped along the tops of my feet. My jailors made a detour to drag me through a patch of dung and straw. I thought my arm would come off. I almost wished it to happen, the way it hurt it would be a relief.
Honour is All Page 22