TREASONS, STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS

by H A CULLEY

  ‘Thank you men. I owe you my life and that of my son. Is anyone hurt?’

  A few had flesh wounds but nothing serious.

  ‘Kill the wounded but not the eorl’s son. Someone pick him up; he’s coming with us. Empty my sea chest and bring that too. Whoever devised this plan deserves some of my silver. The rest of you can keep whatever you can find on the bodies.’

  ‘We found three chests of silver and a small one of gold hidden in the eorl’s chamber,’ Octa told me ten minutes later as we were preparing to leave.

  ‘Well done. We can divide that up later. I don’t think we need to visit the priest after all. I’m sure that young Wolfgang can tell us all that Charles needs to know about Saxony. Let’s get out of here.’

  A group of armed Saxons were standing outside the hall when we emerged but they hastily disappeared when they saw how many we were. The only incident on the way back to the ships occurred as we were leaving the burg. An archer appeared on a roof top and sent two arrows our way. Both were caught on shields and a well-aimed spear took the bowman in the chest. An hour later we were underway.

  ~~~

  ‘What do you intend to do with me?’ a tearful and dejected Wulfgang asked me after he’d been sick over the side for the second time.

  I wasn’t sure if he was just a bad sailor or if his vomiting was due to concussion.

  ‘That rather depends on you.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, you can tell me everything I need to know about Saxony, or I can hand you over to the King of the Franks and he’ll torture it out of you.’

  He was silent for a long time. He kept wiping away the tears that leaked unbidden from his eyes. Eventually he made up his mind.

  ‘If I tell you all that I can what happens to me then? Will you just throw me over the side?’

  ‘No, you have my word that, if you co-operate, I’ll not only let you live, but I’ll take you into my household, and not as a slave. How old are you?’

  ‘I was twelve last month.’

  ‘Very well. I’ll send you to a monastery to be educated until you’re fourteen and then you can train as a warrior, or you can stay and become a monk.’

  ‘Monk? My mother was a Christian but my father and I worship Odin and the old gods.’

  ‘Would you be prepared to be baptised?’

  He shrugged. ‘My mother always wanted me to become a Christian but my father wouldn’t hear of it. He only put up with Father Willibad and his efforts to convert us because my mother insisted.’

  ‘That doesn’t answer my question.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so. Is everyone here a follower of the White Christ then?’

  ‘Yes, there are very few pagans left in England or Frankia now.’

  ‘Strange, my father always said that being a Christian made men into cowards who couldn’t fight, but your men fight like devils.’

  ‘That’s because we train hard and many of my men have stood in the shield wall in battle; not the younger ones though. Your father’s men were indolent and over indulged themselves with ale. Have you no enemies?’

  ‘We have no king so the eorls and chieftains sometimes squabble amongst themselves. Sometimes the Jutes and the Danes raid us but usually they just come to trade.’

  ‘The Danes?’

  ‘Yes, that’s what we call the people from the islands to the east of Jutland.’

  ‘And they are warlike?’

  ‘Very. They have several kings who fight amongst themselves and they raid the Norse.’

  ‘Norse?’

  ‘Yes, the people to the north of us. I’ve not been there but those that have say that it’s a wild land of steep sea inlets called fjords, mountains and poor land for farming. That’s why they raid.’

  I realised that Wulfgang was likely to be a fount of useful information, not just about Saxony, but about lands I didn’t even know existed. I wondered if Charles did.’

  ‘Tell me something that’s been puzzling me. Why didn’t your father try to attack my ships? He must have known that they were full of warriors.’

  The boy shook his mop of dirty flaxen hair.

  ‘No. That’s what we were arguing about. I said yours were fighting ships, though we hadn’t seen any similar before. He said that they were a type of knarr; fighting ships would be larger and have shields hanging along the sides.’

  That explained why he was taken unawares by my warriors, but I was mystified by Wulfgang’s reference to larger warships with shields placed along the gunwale.

  ‘What warships are you referring to?’

  ‘The Danes and the Norse. They have big ships they call dragon ships or longships which can hold fifty or sometimes as many as eighty warriors.’

  They certainly had to be much bigger than my birlinns which typically could hold about thirty plus a few seamen and ship’s boys.

  ‘They look different to your ship too.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Yours has a lower freeboard with a gunwale that slopes outwards at the top to stop water breaking over the side. The longships are broader in the beam with a higher side which ends up vertical for the last few strakes. You couldn’t hang shields from the side of your ships if you tried. They have anything between thirteen and thirty four oars a side, or so I’ve heard. It would require seventy men just to row the larger longships.’

  ‘Do they use knarrs for trade?’

  ‘No, they often use longships for that as well but they do use karves as well. It’s a type of longship, but shorter and wider in the beam with a deeper draft.’

  I left him to sleep and recover from his bout of sea-sickness whilst I pondered what he’d told me. As we turned west on a course to pass the treacherous Frisian islands to the north the lookout yelled that there was a sail on the horizon. His hail had roused Wulfgang and he came to stand beside me at the stern.

  ‘It’s a longship, probably a Dane,’ he said.

  ‘How can you tell?’

  ‘The size of the sail and you can just make out shields along the gunwale if you look.’

  The hull had appeared over the horizon by then but it was something of a blur to my older eyes. It was difficult to judge size with nothing to compare it with out on the sea but it did seem to be much bigger than our three ships. Luckily it didn’t come to investigate us but continued to head south.

  ‘Where is it making for?’

  ‘Into a bay called the Jadebusen.’

  ‘To trade?’

  ‘There’s no trading ports in the Jadebusen. He’s going to raid the settlements around the bay.’

  ‘You don’t seem very bothered.’

  ‘Why should I be? They’re not Saxons, they’re bloody Frisians.’

  For a moment I considered going to the aid of people who were, after all, now subjects of King Charles, but it wasn’t my fight. As my son had pointed out, we should be concentrating on regaining Bebbanburg, not acting as Frankish mercenaries.’

  Chapter Eleven – The Regent

  773 – 779

  ‘Uuffa’s knarr is back,’ Wulfgang said as he hurried into my hall in Paris.

  Æthelred bounced excitedly by his side. The two boys had seemed to bond as soon as they met. Perhaps it was because both of them lived with my family, but were not part of it, that they were drawn together. When Wulfgang had left to be educated at Saint Dennis the younger boy was dejected for a long time, but now that he was back and training to be a warrior they spent what little spare time Wulfgang had together.

  King Charles had been pleased with my report on Saxony and intrigued when I told him about the Danes and the Norse, about whom he had heard very little. As a reward he had given me the title of count, which I supposed corresponded to ealdorman in England. Unfortunately no land came with the title and so I became even more determined to regain what I’d lost in Northumbria.

  I had started to plan for this eventuality by sending Uuffa on a spying mission to Northumbria. This satisfied his craving fo
r more responsibility too, but Hilda had not been very happy and she let me know it in no uncertain terms. She felt I was sending our son into very real danger.

  He went disguised as a monk. His task was to travel through as much of the kingdom as he could gathering information, especially about attitudes to the king. I had also given him the name of several ealdormen who I trusted with instructions to sound them out about deposing Alchred.

  I knew that I had to win the majority of the nobles over to support Æthelred as king if there was to be any chance of success. I had already come to the conclusion that the bishops and the abbots were likely to support the scholarly Alchred.

  He was due to return before the winter storms started but the knarr on which he was supposed to return came back without him. I was worried and Hilda was so upset that she stopped speaking to me. At the start of November I sent another knarr to the pickup point – the fortress of Dùn Barra on the north-east coast of Lothian – whose ealdorman I knew I could trust. Indeed, if I couldn’t trust him I could trust no one in Northumbria.

  I was relieved that the knarr had returned safely and prayed that my son was on board. The boys had brought me the news of its arrival before it had finished docking, so I sent them down to see if my son was on board. I looked at Hilda but she was quietly weeping and wouldn’t meet my eye. The wait until they returned seemed like an age, but when they did they brought my son with them.

  We are not a demonstrative family but I was so pleased to see Uuffa that I started towards him to enfold him in my arms. Thankfully Hilda beat me to it only to be pushed away.

  ‘’Mother! I’m not a little boy anymore to need cuddles from you. Besides I stink and need a good wash.’

  This was said with good humour, however, and he smiled at both us.

  ‘I won’t pretend that I’m not glad to be home though.’

  ‘We are grateful that you are returned unharmed, Uuffa. Why don’t you go and wash and get changed out of that tattered habit? Then you can come back and tell us about your travels over a goblet or two of wine.’

  Wine had taken me some time to get used to. It had been the drink of the Romans and the Franks had continued to produce it from their vineyards, but I still preferred ale or mead; the problem was I had to import it if we wanted to drink it and that made it expensive. We had gradually got used to drinking wine instead and now I quite liked it.

  ‘Some think that giving up Cumbria, or at least the northern part of it, is a price worth paying for peace, but the majority expressed concern over having an appeaser as king. It makes Northumbria appear weak and, as Offa grows more and more powerful, they worry that he will seize Luncæstershire; something he continues to threaten to do,’ Uuffa began once we were all seated around the central hearth of my hall.

  ‘Up to now he has been preoccupied with making himself Bretwalda of everywhere in England south of the Mersey and the Humber. With the subjugation of Essex, Kent and the Kingdom of the South Saxons, only Wessex now resists him. However, he has now embarked on a project to keep the Welsh from raiding Mercia. He is building an earthen rampart all the way from near the mouth of the River Severn in the south to Prestatyn on the north coast.’

  To my mind such a project was futile. To be effective a fortification needed to be effectively defended; even Offa didn’t have the manpower to man something that must be nearly two hundred miles long. Perhaps, though, it was no more than a grandiose gesture or a boundary marker.

  ‘The project is not quite as difficult as it sounds. There were previous efforts to build such a dyke along part of the border which have fallen into disrepair, but even so he will need to build another hundred miles of rampart.’

  ‘So hopefully Luncæstershire is safe for now,’ I said. ‘What about Cumbria?’

  ‘Eugein still holds the north of Cumbria but, with the resolution of the dispute over the throne of Dalriada, he is now threatened by King Áed mac Echdach on his western border. He has withdrawn back into Strathclyde but Alchfrith has refused to take the opportunity that this gives him to retake Caer Luel. This has caused some of the ealdormen to name him a coward.’

  ‘Is there any talk of disposing him?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes, very much so,’ he said. ‘The problem is that no one can agree on who should replace him. Some are in favour of getting him to abdicate in favour of his son, but he is only sixteen and inexperienced; other have suggested the late King Oswulf’s son, Ælfwald. The restoration of Æthelwold Moll was muted as a possibility until he died two months ago.’

  It was the first I’d heard that Æthelred’s father was dead. I would have to tell the boy before the news reached him from other sources and so I told Uuffa that we would continue shortly and went to find my ward.

  He and Wulfgang were practicing with wooden swords and small shields in the open area behind the house where the stables were. The older boy passed on what he was learning to his eleven year old friend every afternoon as soon as his own training was over. I called Æthelred to my side and Wulfgang came over, curious as to what I wanted. I was about to send him away but I thought the boy might need someone to console him and I wanted to get back and hear the rest of Uuffa’s report, so I let him stay.

  ‘Æthelred, I have some bad news about your father,’ I began.

  ‘My father? I haven’t thought about him for ages. You are my father now.’

  ‘I’m your guardian, Æthelred, your real father doesn’t change just because some misguided people made him become a monk.’

  ‘Nevertheless, he abandoned me. He should have taken me with him. I could have become a novice.’

  ‘You were very young at the time, though it’s not unheard of for small boys to become novices, it’s not usual. Would you have wanted to be brought up as a monk?’

  The boy looked at the sword and shield he was carrying, then looked at the ground and moved the dust around with the toe of his left shoe.

  ‘No, I suppose not.’

  ‘Your father wanted what was best for you; besides your life was in danger as his heir. He felt that you would be safe with me and that I would look after you.’

  ‘Why are we speaking of him now? Has something happened to him?’

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid that he’s recently died.’

  ‘Oh! I see.’

  He said nothing more but stared at me as if he disbelieved what I was telling him. A tear escaped from the corner of his eye, which he wiped away with his sleeve.

  ‘You can leave him with me now, lord,’ Wulfgang said. ‘I know only too well what it’s like to lose a father. I’ll look after him.’

  I nodded my thanks and put a hand on Æthelred’s shoulder to give it a gentle squeeze before returning to my hall. I glanced back as I entered the door and saw the two boys in each other’s arms. Both were visibly sobbing.

  ‘How did he take it?’ Hilda asked when I rejoined her and our two sons.

  ‘Not well. I think he’s tried to forget about his father, but the news of his death shook him. Wulfgang’s looking after him.’

  ‘Those two are close, perhaps too close,’ Octa said.

  ‘You think their friendship is unhealthy?’

  ‘They are more than friends, I think.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Perhaps I’m wrong.’

  ‘You must have grounds for saying that, Octa,’ Hilda said.

  ‘Only rumours, but perhaps there is substance to them.’

  This was greeted by silence as we all thought of the implications. Of course, it could be perfectly innocent but even gossip of that type could ruin Æthelred’s reputation and deprive him of his chance at gaining the crown. If it were other than innocent few would understand, or forgive, such a relationship between males.

  ‘We need to find Wulfgang a girl,’ Hilda said.

  ‘A wife you mean?’ I asked, thinking him a trifle young for marriage.

  ‘No, just a pretty wench to bed him. I’m sure their friendship is just that, after all Æthelred is st
ill eleven, but once word gets around that Wulfgang has slept with a pretty maid people are less likely to think he likes boys.’

  I looked at Hilda gratefully. It was an awkward situation and what she proposed seemed a good solution. However, at present I was more interested in what Uuffa had to say.

  ‘Did any speak of Æthelred as a contender for the crown?’

  ‘A few, but most were against the idea of a boy king until Beorhtmund suggested you as regent. The idea circulated rapidly and many seemed to consider it an option.’

  Beorhtmund was the Ealdorman of Dùn Barra, the son of the father of the same name. He was, I hoped, my friend because where he led the other ealdormen of Lothian would follow; perhaps others too.

  ‘Thank you, Uuffa. You’ve done well, I’m proud of you.’

  He smiled his thanks at me.

  ‘Yes, well,’ Hilda said with a frown. ‘I suppose all’s well that ends well, but don’t you dare send him on any more dangerous missions on his own.’

  ‘The question is,’ Octa said, ‘what do we do now?’

  ‘We daren’t delay,’ I replied. ‘If we do we’ll find Ælfwald or Osred on the throne and our chance of getting Bebbanburg restored to us will have vanished.’

  ‘So what do we do?’

  ‘We take Bebbanburg back by force and then declare Æthelred as king in succession to his late father. However, that will have to wait until the spring when it’s safe to cross the German Ocean. In the meantime I’ll send messages to all those who might support us asking them to rally to Æthelred’s side when the time comes.’

  ‘Won’t that risk Alchred getting to hear of the plot against him?’

  ‘It might, but I won’t include any details - just say that they will know when the time to act comes.’

  ~~~

  I stood at the prow of the leading birlinn with the breeze blowing my hair around my face as Bebbanburg appeared over the horizon. I had adopted the Frankish fashion of shaving all my face whilst we lived in Paris but I’d decided to grow a moustache again over the past winter. However, it had appeared as a mixture of white and grey hairs instead of the black one I had shaved off years before. I hastily shaved my incipient moustache off again and then noticed how many grey hairs there were on my head, especially around my ears. I was growing old.