WHITEBLADE: Kings of Northumbria Book 1

by H A CULLEY

  ‘Oswald will deal with you two later,’ he told them as they ran.

  ‘What will he do?’

  ‘Probably cut your pricks off to stop you being so stupid again,’ he replied with a grin.

  There was a brief fight outside the chieftain’s hall, but it was quickly over. The sacking of the settlement continued for the rest of the day and on into the night, but at nightfall Oswald and his men went back to the Holy Saviour. They had amassed a good deal of plunder, much of it from the chieftain’s hall as they were the first ones there and had captured a number of women and children as slaves.

  One of the women, a girl of perhaps fifteen, had caught Oswald’s eye. She was a real beauty and unlike most of the Irish, she had long blonde hair like many of the Angles and Saxons. He took her from the rest of the slaves and told Rònan and Oswiu to guard her. Then he and Eochaid went to find Fiachnae.

  Oswald presented the king with a small chest full of coins as his due as the leader of the raid and in return Fiachnae told Oswald that he could have the small birlinn that he had captured at Rathlin Island. This suited him well, as the Holy Saviour on its own would have been too crowded on the return journey with the slaves that they had taken. Oswald made Eochaid shipmaster, which pleased both father and son and Eochaid asked Fiachnae if he had a man who would make a good helmsman.

  Eochaid christened his new ship the Gift of God and the next morning the two birlinns set off to return to Dùn Add. If Oswald had been aware of the reception he and Oswiu would receive when they got there, he might have stayed in Ulster.

  Chapter Six – Loch Fyne

  621 AD

  Oswald had never seen his mother so angry. Instead of greeting her two returning sons, she rushed at them and started to hit and scratch them, screaming all the while. Oswald had difficulty in restraining her, but eventually she stopped struggling and broke down in tears. Oswiu was a quivering wreck, cowering on the ground by this time and even Oswald was badly shaken. Offa and his sister sat in a corner of the hut, hugging each other and crying.

  ‘What on earth possessed you to take Oswiu with you? He could have been killed! I was beside myself with worry. The least you could have done was left him at Iona and written to me to let me know he was safe.’

  ‘Yes, you’re right. But he refused to stay there and you knew he was with me. Surely you trusted me to keep him safe?’

  As he said the words he had an uncomfortable moment when he remembered that his brother had nearly drowned at Rathlin Island.

  ‘Refused? He’s a boy of nine, for heaven’s sake! You should have made him stay.’

  ‘Yes, you’re probably right, but we are back now safe and sound and he has gained a wealth of experience that will stand him in good stead when he becomes a warrior.’

  ‘Becomes a warrior? Isn’t it enough that you are always risking your life, Oswald? He’s going to join his brothers on Iona and become a monk after he’s completed his novitiate. I may not see him again after he leaves here, but at least I’ll know he’s safe.’

  At this Oswiu pulled himself together and stood up.

  ‘No.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I said no. I’m not going to Iona and I’m not going to be a monk. I’m staying with Oswald.’

  ‘I’m your mother and you’ll do as I say.’ she yelled at him.

  Oswiu didn’t say another word but turned on his heel and started to walk towards the hut that Oswald and Rònan had built.

  Acha stared after him, her mouth set in a determined line and Oswald knew that this was beginning to become a battle of wills. His heart sank; the last thing he wanted was for his family to be torn apart.

  ‘Leave him be for now, mother. I’ll talk to him when he’s calmed down, but he’ll never become a monk and you need to accept that. I must go and see Connad to give him his share of the plunder and thank him for the loan of his birlinn. You need to look after Offa and Æbbe; you’ve scared them half to death.’

  As he left, he dabbed at the scratches that Acha had inflicted on his face and arms. He knew that he was in the wrong for not writing to her from Iona, but that didn’t excuse the way she had treated him and Oswiu. He feared that a rift had developed which would be difficult to heal.

  Connad was delighted with the gold and silver that Oswald lay at his feet and congratulated him on his success.

  ‘Not only have you brought me back plunder, but you have bound Fiachnae closer to me. I’m well pleased.’

  He paused before continuing, looking past Oswald at Eochaid.

  ‘I’m surprised – pleased, but nevertheless surprised – to see you’ve brought Fiachnae’s son back with you again. I would have thought that Eochaid’s father would have wanted his heir to remain by his side.’

  ‘But I’m not his heir, Cyning. My elder brother had a son and my nephew will succeed my father.’

  ‘I see, but isn’t this nephew still a child?’

  ‘He’s twelve, Cyning and hopefully my father will live for many years yet.’

  ‘Yes, of course. Let’s pray so. It will need to be a long time, though. I’m not sure that the Ulaidh would want an inexperienced youth to rule them, with the Uí Néill waiting like hungry wolves to gobble up more of their land.’

  He transferred his gaze back to Oswald.

  ‘What are your plans, now that you’re back?’

  ‘I hadn’t really thought that far ahead, Lord.’

  ‘I have need of someone skilful as a warrior and as lucky as you. Neithon, King of Strathclyde, has recently died and his son, Belin, is flexing his muscles. As you know, his lands adjoin those of Lorne, which is part of Dal Riada. He recently tried to launch a raid on Lorne through the Pass of Brander. It is narrow, steep sided and easily defended, so he got a bloody nose, but he is likely to try again. My advisers think that his likely route is through the mountains that lie between Loch Awe in the north and Loch Fyne in the south. It’s wild country and few people live there. If you are willing, I would like you to take a few birlinns up Loch Fyne and also scout the land to the north to see if Belin is up to anything.’

  ‘You honour me, Cyning, by the trust you have in me. Which birlinns would I take?’

  ‘Just make sure my faith is well placed. I’ll give you the Holy Saviour and you can take Eochaid’s Gift of God, assuming he is willing to go with you.’

  When Eochaid nodded, he turned back to Oswald.

  ‘I’m also sending Beornwulf with you.’

  He was one of the Angle nobles who had fled with him and his family from Bebbanburg and who had been serving the King of Lorne as a shipmaster for the last five years.

  ‘His ship is called the Seraphim and has a crew of sixty,’ he continued. ‘They are all hardened warriors, but they understand that you are their leader. I don’t want to start a war with Belin, at least not yet, so be careful. If you are forced to fight, don’t leave any witnesses.’

  ‘I understand.’

  When he left, he found Beornwulf waiting for him by his hut.

  ‘You’ve turned into a man, Oswald,’ he grunted by way of a greeting.

  ‘It’s good to see you again too, Beornwulf. Did you think I’d stay twelve forever?’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear of the rift between you and the queen.’

  It was so long since he’d heard his mother referred to by her former title that at first Oswald didn’t realise that he meant Acha. He sighed.

  ‘Yes, it’s a bad business and not something I sought. She would like to keep Oswiu a baby, I think, but he’s got more spirit than many a fully grown warrior.’

  ‘Would you me like to speak to her on your behalf?’

  Beornwulf had been a member of his father’s council, so his mother had known him well in the past. He couldn’t see that it could do any harm. He would dearly like to be reconciled to his mother, before they left, if possible, although, as Oswiu would be coming with him, he didn’t give much for Beornwulf’s chance of success.

  In t
he end Beornwulf came to see Oswald as night was falling and said that his mother would like to see him. He went over to his mother’s hut, worried that another meeting might make things even worse if she hadn’t changed her mind. However, her opening topic of conversation caught him by surprise.

  ‘Oswald, come in. I hope that you’ll join me in eating this delicious venison stew that my slave women have prepared.’

  Acha had two slaves, an old woman and her granddaughter. Both were Cymri from a mountainous land well to the south and as ugly as sin.

  ‘I understand that you now have a slave yourself and I don’t mean Rònan.’

  ‘You are well informed, mother.’

  He risked a weak smile and was gratified when she returned it. It would seem that she too sought reconciliation.

  Oswald had kept the blonde girl he’d captured at Cullmore. He’d found out that she was called Gytha and was the daughter of a Mercian thegn who had been captured by pirates and sold to the Uí Néill. She was being kept as a gift for Suibne mac Fiachnai, the chieftain of Clan nEógain and so was still a virgin, a rare condition amongst pretty young slaves. As the daughter of a minor noble he might have freed her, but she was a pagan, so he decided to wait and see if she would convert to Christianity first.

  He was sexually attracted to her, but for now he kept his desires in check. It was beneath his dignity to force a slave to sleep with him.

  At first Rònan had been affronted when Oswald had announced that Gytha would take over his duties in looking after their hut, cooking and washing their clothes. However, he’d been mollified when he was told that he’d still be responsible for looking after Oswald’s armour, weapons and two horses that he’d recently bought so that they could range further afield when they went hunting.

  ‘It’ll also give you more time to train with me and Oswiu,’ he added.

  That had brought a broad smile to the boy’s face. He was now thirteen and although Oswald hadn’t said anything, he intended to free him and officially induct him as a trainee warrior when they returned. There was only one proviso. The boy would have to be baptised as a Christian. None of Oswald’s war band was a pagan.

  Gytha seemed happy to be Oswald’s slave and as Rònan and Oswiu both told him, she kept looking at him whenever she thought herself unobserved. She had certainly improved the tidiness and cleanliness of the hut and insisted on cooking outside whenever it wasn’t raining, to try and minimise the acrid smell of smoke from the central hearth.

  Oswald supposed that it was too much to hope that his mother hadn’t become aware of the change to his domestic arrangements.

  ‘Have you bedded her yet?’

  He was slightly taken aback by his mother’s bluntness.

  ‘No, she’s a virgin and the daughter of a Mercian thegn. She deserves better than to be treated like a whore.’

  ‘You wouldn’t be in love with her, would you?’

  ‘Possibly,’ he grinned. ‘Would you be horrified if I was?’

  ‘No, I had hoped that you would marry a princess as your father’s heir, but as an exile, that’s too much to hope for. And I would like grandchildren.’

  ‘Hold on! I don’t know whether I want to marry the girl yet and she would have to be willing to convert to Christianity first.’

  ‘That’s important to you?’

  ‘Yes, I want my children to be brought up by two Christian parents and taught about God and his Son. I don’t want a tug of war between the one true God and the Anglo-Saxon deities.’

  ‘I think you are very wise.’

  By this time they had finished the venison stew and Acha decided that it was time she raised the question of Oswiu.

  ‘Oswiu is very like you. I can see that now, but both of you have caused me a great deal of distress and I cannot allow Oswiu to speak to me in the way that he did.’

  ‘I have apologised and I sincerely repent not writing to you from Iona. It was wrong of me. I hope that in time you can forgive me. However, I don’t regret taking Oswiu with me and to pretend to you that I did would dishonour both of us.’

  Acha sighed. ‘I understand that. Do you propose to take him with you when you go on this Loch Fyne expedition?’

  ‘Yes. He would never forgive me if I left him behind.’

  Acha seemed agitated. ‘I wish you wouldn’t, but if you do, make sure he is well protected. And you need to be on your guard, too.’

  ‘Why, what do you know?’

  ‘Know? Nothing. Suspect? Quite a lot. Connad pretends to favour you, but secretly he seeks your death. You are too popular amongst his young warriors and he thinks you seek his throne.’

  ‘That’s nonsense! There’s only one throne I want and it’s that of Northumbria.’

  ‘I know that, but it is the sign of a weak king to be paranoid about those who would make a better ruler than he is.’

  ‘But how am I in danger in Loch Fyne?’

  His mother looked uncomfortable.

  ‘Your father never entirely trusted Beornwulf. However, he was never a friend of Edwin’s and so he had no option but to flee with us. Do you not think it strange that Connad has asked the King of Lorne to loan him Beornwulf? He thinks you will trust him because he’s a Northumbrian. Don’t.’

  ‘He has sixty men, but Eochaid and I have nearly twice as many as that. What can he do?’

  ‘I wish I knew. Lead you into an ambush by Belin and the men of Strathclyde perhaps?’

  ‘Thank you for the warning, mother. I’ll be on my guard.’

  ‘Now you know why I don’t want Oswiu to go with you. You have no choice, having accepted the expedition, but you don’t have to take him with you.’

  Oswald glared at her.

  ‘So that’s what this is all about,’ he accused her. ‘It’s all a ploy to stop Oswiu going with me!’

  He got up in anger and made to storm out of the hut, when she put a gentle, restraining hand on his arm.

  ‘Do you think so little of me that I would try and trick you?’

  ‘No. No, of course not. I’m sorry. I know you mean well. I’ll watch out for Beornwulf and I’ll make sure that Oswiu is kept safe. However, it is me that Connad wants to get rid of, not my little brother.’

  ‘No, but it would enrage you and make you reckless if anything happened to your favourite brother.’

  Oswald nodded in understanding.

  ‘Is he my favourite? Yes, I suppose I am much closer to him than any of my other brothers, though I love them all.’

  ‘When do you leave?’

  ‘In two days’ time.’

  ‘Bring Oswiu to me before you go. We need to part without animosity between us.’

  ~~~

  The Holy Saviour led the way around the Mull of Kintyre and up into Kilbrannan Sound between the eastern coast of Kintyre and the Isle of Arran. It wasn’t until they reached the southern tip of the Cowal Peninsula, opposite Tarbert to their west, that they entered the sea loch that divided Dal Riada from Strathclyde. The people over there spoke Brythonic and were culturally and ethnically different from those who inhabited Dal Riada and Ulster.

  This time Rònan was sent up the mast to watch the eastern shore, but it seemed to be deserted. Oswiu was likewise stationed in the bows to watch the Dal Riadan shore for a possible landing site for the three birlinns to spend the night. However, the shore was rocky and it looked as if they might have to anchor and spend an uncomfortable night on board.

  Then Beornwulf called across the water that there was a cove ahead and Oswiu spotted a narrow entrance with a small bay beyond it. The cove had a sandy beach and it was just large enough to accommodate the three craft. They had to enter one at a time, but soon all three birlinns were beached and Oswald sent out patrols just to make sure that there was no-one else nearby. If there was a settlement, then it would probably be Dal Riadan, but he wasn’t taking any chances. At the time it didn’t occur to him to wonder how Beornwulf knew about the cove.

  All three shipmasters set sentries
to watch their ships and the campsite, but Oswald also sent out a group of four men to take turns in watching the loch beyond the cove. He had no intention of being taken by surprise. It would be all too easy to bottle them up.

  In the event the night passed peacefully and they were about to re-embark when one of Oswald’s crew, a sixteen year old newly fledged warrior called Drustan, spotted a thin plume of smoke rising into the still morning air somewhere inland.

  Straightway Beornwulf suggested that he accompany Oswald with some of his warriors to investigate. Oswald was immediately suspicious and smiled at the man.

  ‘As our most experienced warrior, I would rather you stayed here and took charge of the defence of the camp. It may be wise to embark a skeleton crew on each vessel and anchor them out in the loch; we risk getting trapped in here otherwise. I’ll take half my warriors and see where that smoke is coming from. I’ll leave Eochaid and his crew here as well.’

  He could tell that Beornwulf wasn’t happy for some reason and he had a quiet word with Eochaid and Alaric before he left.

  ‘Watch Beornwulf. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something odd going on. I don’t trust him, to be blunt. Keep Oswiu and Rònan safe for me, Eochaid and keep your weapons handy.’

  He took thirty warriors with him so that the number of his men left behind still outnumbered Beornwulf’s crew and they followed the stream which emptied into the cove inland. The smoke lay roughly in the same direction and he expected to find whoever it was camped beside the stream. They walked beside it as it climbed into the hinterland and when they got close to where the smoke had been seen, Torquill and another young warrior were sent ahead as scouts. It wasn’t long before Torquill came running came back to where the others waited.

  ‘Oswald, there’s a small loch ahead, perhaps a mile long and a third of that across. The camp where the smoke is coming from is a few hundred yards to the north of where the stream leaves the loch. It’s on the loch shore and, from what we could see, at least a hundred well-armed men are there. We got as close as we dared and we could hear what they were saying. The funny thing is they were speaking in our language, not Brythonic, so they must be Dal Riadans like us, mustn’t they?’