TREASONS, STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS

by H A CULLEY

  I didn’t look back to see if the others were behind me. All my attention was focused on what was happening at the top of the hill. I was relieved to see that someone had ordered the forty warriors to dismount and form a shield wall to protect the king and the clergymen. It might be enough to hold the enemy until we could get there, although ten of the warriors – Æthelred’s gesith - were boys still under training.

  My heart lurched as I saw that Æthelred himself was standing in the middle of the front rank. It was brave but foolhardy in the extreme. Then I sighed in relief as Wulfgang pulled him back into the second row and took his place.

  By now our horses were labouring up the steep slope. Their gait had inevitably slowed to little more than a man’s walking pace and I watched helplessly as the first of the Britons ran into the shield wall. The Britons were in no sort of formation and had to be struggling for breath after their climb. Certainly their charge would have no momentum behind it, but I could no longer see what was going on as the defenders had disappeared behind a mass of their foes.

  I started to yell to attract the Britons attention and my men joined in. Those at the back turned to see us a mere hundred yards from them and panic quickly spread through their ranks. Dozens started to break away and flee along the hillside in both directions. I ignored them and lifted my bloody axe to strike down at the Britons still fighting the king’s shield wall.

  I don’t know how many I killed but afterwards my arm was so stiff I could hardly lift it. As more and more of my men arrived to join in the slaughter the Britons broke and fled. I jumped off my horse whilst my men set off in pursuit and rushed to check on the king. Of the thirty who had formed the shield wall scarcely a dozen remained alive and many of those were wounded.

  One of the latter was Wulfgang and I saw with tremendous relief that the boy attending to the cuts to his arms and legs was Æthelred. He was covered in blood but it must be someone else’s as he appeared to be unharmed. He was cleaning the wounds as one of the monks prepared to sew them up. As I reached him I saw that he was sobbing with relief at Wulfgang’s survival.

  ~~~

  It took the rest of the year to recapture Caer Luel and drive the last of the Britons back into Strathclyde. Unfortunately King Eugein was one of those who had escaped but he had lost nearly a thousand men killed or captured during the battle in the unnamed valley.

  We celebrated Christmas at Eoforwīc that year. I was away from Bebbanburg more often than I was there now. Renweard looked after the fortress and the shire whilst I assisted the archbishop to rule the kingdom.

  That wasn’t to say that Æthelred didn’t play his part. He insisted on being involved in all the important decisions, held court each day and toured the kingdom with us, but he was also busy with his education and weapon training.

  He and Wulfgang remained close friends, so much so that one or two others at court appeared to be jealous of the Saxon youth and the odd scurrilous remark reached my ears. It seemed that what had happened at the Witan hadn’t entirely put paid to the derogatory gossip about the pair. As time went on I was more and more convinced that they did love one another, but only in the platonic sense. After all the king was only twelve with no sign of incipient manhood as yet. Wulfgang was nearly fifteen though. I decided to have a discreet word with him about my fears for Æthelred’s reputation.

  ‘Sit down, Wulfgang. I trust your wounds have healed now?’

  ‘Thank you, lord. My right arm troubled me for a while and I walked with a limp, as I’m sure you noticed, but exercise to build up the muscles seems to have cured me. I assume that concern for my health wasn’t why you wanted a private meeting though?’

  ‘No, not entirely. I’ve been meaning to speak to you for some time now. My concern is for the king’s welfare and the high regard in which he is held by most people.’

  ‘As is mine, lord, I can assure you,’ he said quickly.

  ‘Yes, I know. Look, Wulfgang this is difficult for me. Please let me say what I have to and then think before you say anything in response. The last thing I want is for a gulf to grow between us but I am increasingly concerned about what some nobles and others in positions of influence are saying or insinuating.’

  ‘You are referring to my friendship with the king, I presume.’

  I gave him a pained look.

  ‘I’m sorry I interrupted, please go on.’

  ‘Yes. Some are jealous whereas I fear that a few have misinterpreted your closeness as an unnatural vice,’ I said uncomfortably.

  To my surprise Wulfgang laughed.

  ‘I thought for a moment you might have wanted to see me in order to accuse me of getting one of the Lady Hilda’s slaves pregnant.’

  ‘Have you?’

  ‘It would appear so. It doesn’t show yet but she tells me that she is late. I’m sure you know what I mean.’

  The confident, almost cocky, way he said that annoyed me but I realised that the boy was proud of showing what a virile young stud he was. At least it would seem that I didn’t have to worry about his friendship with Æthelred in that way.

  ‘I’ll talk to my wife about that, but you won’t be the first noble to get a slave pregnant. You’re a bit young as yet but perhaps we ought to think about you getting married.’

  ‘To a slave?’ he asked aghast.

  ‘No, of course not! You’ll need to do something for the child in due course, but that’s not my concern at the moment. No, I mean marry the daughter of a thegn perhaps.’

  ‘No, I’m sorry lord,’ he said with some vehemence. ‘I’m not ready to settle down with one girl, not by a long way. I like them well enough to spend a night or two with them, but that’s it. I know it would squash the stupid rumours about me and the king but I’m not prepared to saddle myself with a girl I don’t love just to do that.’

  ‘Very well. But I think it would do no harm if gossip about you getting this slave pregnant were to circulate.’

  He nodded. ‘And I’ll try to explain to Æthelred that we need to behave more circumspectly in public.’

  ‘Good.’ I sighed. ‘I suppose I’d better go and talk to Lady Hilda about this wretched girl. It’s another conversation I’m not looking forward to.’

  He grinned at me but it soon disappeared when I added that she would no doubt have a few choice words for him too.

  ~~~

  Life continued without further significant dramas for two more years. Octa met and married Cynwise, the younger sister of Godwyn of Cumbria, and Æthelred reached the age of fourteen, at which age he was officially regarded as a man rather than a boy.

  Octa and Cynwise had a son at the end of 777 who they called Eafa. From the start he was a lusty child and he thrived. It was a bad winter that year and a number of babies, young children and old people died during it, but thankfully Eafa survived.

  Wulfgang got three more girls pregnant to my knowledge. This didn’t add to his popularity in certain quarters, but it did quash the speculation about him and the king. However, the rumours had weakened Æthelred’s reputation.

  Nevertheless, the Witan decided, unwisely in my opinion, that Æthelred was now fit to rule on his own. At least it meant that I was no longer a regent and I was free to return to Bebbanburg. Renweard wasn’t exactly overjoyed to hand over the reins of power to me and made no secret of his feelings. We didn’t have an argument – there was nothing to argue about. I was ealdorman and he was the shire reeve. But the atmosphere was strained and, after two months, he decided to return to Paris to take charge of our business interests there. I watched his ship as it set out for Frankia with a heavy heart. When we were younger we’d been very close, but time changes things. I turned my back on the receding ship and went to tell Uuffa that he was now the shire reeve.

  He got married to Beorhtmund’s younger daughter of at the beginning of 778 and decided to move into the vacant hall at Alnwic. Otherwise life was unremarkable until early September. Then Æthelred discovered a plot against him and dealt with it
badly.

  Chapter Twelve – A Kingdom Divided

  778 to 786

  Ælfwald had never really accepted the verdict of the Witan in 774 that he was too inexperienced at fifteen to be king. When Æthelred reached the age of fourteen in 777 and was allowed to rule without regents he was outraged. I dismissed the reports I heard as the ravings of a jealous and immature young man. However, it did appear that he had found a few ealdormen to support him – Sicga of Hexham, Sentwine of Beverley and Cynric of Leyburn in particular. They were natural allies of his as all three had been appointed by King Alchred and consequently Æthelred didn’t go to any great lengths to hide his dislike of them.

  They felt, probably with some justification, that their position was precarious. Soon the court was rife with rumours that they were conspiring with others against the king.

  As soon as he got wind of the plot Æthelred should have had them arrested and brought before the Witan for trial. He didn’t. Instead he issued warrants for their execution.

  Had I still been by his side I would have told him that, whatever the loyalties - or the lack thereof - of individual ealdormen, condemning them to death without a fair trial was likely to incense every one of his nobles. He might be king, but he needed their support to rule, especially in today’s day and age when kings came and went with alarming regularity. Oswiu’s uninterrupted rule of twenty eight years was but a distant memory.

  The other mistake he made was in not inviting the three traitors to Eoforwīc where they could be arrested with little fuss. By sending out fifty warriors from his warband to bring back each of the three was crass. Of course, they got wind of what was afoot and fled into Mercia.

  Unsurprisingly, Offa welcomed them with open arms. Fortunately for us Ecgbert of Kent had recently raised the standard of rebellion against Mercian dominion and had defeated Offa’s forces at the Battle of the Medway. Otherwise I’m certain that he would have invaded Northumbria on the pretext of supporting the aggrieved ealdormen.

  The condemnation of three of the seventeen ealdormen without consulting the Witan had further damaged Æthelred’s standing in the kingdom. A few blamed me for poor advice, though I had nothing to do with the matter, and others thought that they saw the archbishop’s hand in this. Some even blamed Wulfgang who, as captain of the king’s gesith, had the king’s ear.

  As a Saxon, Wulfgang wasn’t popular in a land where practically all the nobles and most of the thegns were Angles by descent and his womanising didn’t help. Consequently he became the scapegoat for the king’s error of judgement. A more cynical and pragmatic monarch would have blamed Wulfgang and have exiled him, at least pro tem, but Æthelred wasn’t like that. He stood by his friend and accepted the blame.

  ‘What do you think will happen,’ Hilda asked me as we sat glum faced in our chamber the evening that we heard the latest news.

  ‘I hear that the archbishop has called a meeting of the Witan against Æthelred’s wishes. It is to meet at Eoforwīc in the middle of December.’

  ‘December? Well, if the weather is as bad this year as it was last very few will be able to make it through the snow to get there.’

  ‘That’s probably what Ethelbert is banking on. Even if conditions are difficult many of the ealdormen and churchmen from Deira should still be able to make it. It’s those like me from the north and from the west who won’t be able to attend.’

  Hilda nodded glumly. Ethelbert had fallen out with the king over the appointment of the new Bishop of Hexham. The archbishop had recommended the Prior of Hexham Monastery, but he was Sigca’s cousin and Æthelred wouldn’t entertain the idea. He wanted Higbald, the Prior of Lindisfarne. He was the Mercian whose life I’d saved all those years ago and I thought him a good choice. Unfortunately the old rivalry between Lindisfarne and Eoforwīc for supremacy in Northumbria hadn’t entirely disappeared and Ethelbert was totally opposed to his consecration. Perhaps he thought that Ælfwald would be more amenable if he was on the throne.

  Whatever the archbishop’s motives in calling the Witan together, I was determined to attend and I persuaded Beorhtmund to come with me. We offered to take Bishop Cynewulf as well, but he was ill. Octa came with thirty of my warband and Beorhtmund brought another twenty.

  Hilda said that, as I wouldn’t be able to make it back in time for Christmas, she would travel down to Alnwic to be with Uuffa and his wife, who was expecting their first child quite soon now. Cynwise and baby Eafa didn’t want to stay at Bebbanburg on their own and went with them.

  We all travelled together for the first stage of our journey overland and, although the road was muddy and the weather miserable, at least it wasn’t deep in snow as it had been last December. From near Alnwic Beorhtmund, Octa and I travelled the rest of the way to Eoforwīc by ship, or rather ships – a knarr and a birlinn.

  Beorhtmund was dubious about the wisdom of a sea voyage due to the prevalence of storms in the winter, but the thought of travelling all that way on a horse in rain, wind and mud appalled me. I was no longer as young as I used to be and long periods on horseback made my joints ache.

  The first day after we left the mouth of the River Aln was uneventful. The sky was cloudy and the wind had the chill of approaching winter about it but the sea was little more than choppy and we made good progress. It would have been foolish to sail on after dark so we anchored in the mouth of the Tyne overnight.

  The next day the sea was a little livelier and the wind was stronger. We flew along with the wind coming from the north east. That night was more comfortable and we managed to reach Whitby just as the sun was sinking in the west. Sleeping in the guests’ dormitory wasn’t quite like being at home in my own hall but it was a damn sight better than sleeping on the open deck of a ship.

  We hoped to reach the entrance to the inland sea on which Eoforwīc stood by nightfall but our luck had changed. The day started with barely a breath of wind. Gradually it picked up and we started to move through the water at a reasonable pace, but the wind, from the north now, kept increasing in strength and we were flying before it. Both ships had to take in a few reefs by midday and the waves kept on increasing in size. The air was now laced with salt water and the size of the following sea began to concern me.

  When the headland near the Black Rocks hove into view through the rain and sea spray I breathed a sigh of relief. Beyond it there was a sandy beach and the headland would protect us from the worst of the wind. Large waves crashed onto the beach but we made it to the shore safely. It took us some time to haul the ships far enough up the beach so that the hulls weren’t being thumped onto the sand by the waves, but by mid-afternoon I was satisfied that we would be able to see out the storm in safety. The problem was that we might not now make it to Eoforwīc in time for the meeting of the Witan two days hence.

  The storm raged for most of that night and the next morning but by early afternoon it had blown itself out. There was still a swell on the sea but that would just make sailing uncomfortable, not dangerous. The problem was that the wind had died away and moved round to the east. We would be lucky to make more than three of four miles each hour under sail and knarrs weren’t intended to be rowed on the open sea. Their six oars a side were only intended for manoeuvring in port.

  We set out nevertheless and reached Filey Bay that evening. With any luck we could now make it to Eoforwīc by the day of the Witan.

  ~~~

  A combination of light winds and a broken steering oar delayed us further and we didn’t tie up alongside the quay at Eoforwīc until midday. Leaving Octa to sort things out with the port master, Beorhtmund and I hurried up to the king’s hall, only to find that the Witan was meeting in the church. We arrived just in time to hear a furious argument in progress.

  ‘I’m your king,’ Æthelred was saying with some vehemence. ‘I have no intention of abdicating and, as we know from what was said when I was crowned, you cannot legally depose me. Especially as less than a quarter of the Witan are present.’

  It wa
s true. Apart from the archbishop, only the abbots of Ripon and Eoforwīc were there to represent the Church. There were also six ealdormen present, but three of those were the men that the king had issued death warrants for.

  Everyone turned around to see who had entered as the door opened to admit us along with a gust of rain laden wind. Æthelred seemed to be the only one present who was pleased to see us.

  The Ealdorman of Eoforwīc, a man called Sigered, was presiding. As the Witan was being hosted by Ethelbert and this was his church I had expected him to be in charge. Perhaps he thought that this rump of a Witan would have more credibility if he didn’t chair it.

  Sigered was looking harassed and for a moment he welcomed the interruption but, when he saw who it was, he scowled.

  ‘You’re late,’ was all the welcome we received.

  ‘As we got caught in a storm we are lucky to be here at all. Good day, Cyning,’ I said bowing towards the king. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘If you’d been here on time you’d know,’ Sigered replied.

  He was still a youth struggling to grow his first moustache and his attitude irked me.

  ‘I’m your hereræswa and I suggest you pay Beorhtmund and myself some respect unless you want to earn my displeasure.’

  I might be old but I still had a good reputation as a warrior.

  ‘Er, I apologise. Please come in and sit down.’

  The only vacant seats were on a bench beside Sicga, Sentwine and Cynric, the three ealdormen who Æthelred had accused of treason.

  ‘Thank you, I’ll stand. I’d rather not associate with traitors.’

  The three muttered amongst themselves but said nothing out loud in response.

  ‘Please yourself,’ Sigered said with a sniff.

  ‘Perhaps it would be helpful if I brought Seofon and Beorhtmund up to date,’ Æthelred said smoothly.