by Stuart Hill
“We’ve done it! We’ve done it! The Danes are beaten! The Danes are smashed!” I screamed and then hugged Edward and danced round and round as countless numbers died far below us. Soon anyone that could still run or fight had left the battlefield. Only the dead and those too badly wounded to move now occupied the shallow valley.
I began to shiver uncontrollably even though the evening was warm, and when I looked at Edward I saw that his face was white and he too shook like someone with marsh fever.
“Every warrior pays a price for their first blooding,” said Ara quietly. And taking our hands she led us away back to the river and the waiting boat.
VIII
Guthrum and his bodyguard of housecarles got away, and a good few thousand of the Viking army escaped too. They fled back to Chippenham, where my father and his Saxons besieged them for two weeks before they finally surrendered and asked for terms.
Father was generous and the Peace of Wedmore only sent the Danes into exile and forced Guthrum to accept Christian baptism with the new name of Athelstan. Father even stood as godfather to the old pirate. But here I learnt something more about the art of rule: always make an ally of your old enemy if you possibly can. As it turned out it was impossible to make an ally of Guthrum, but it had to be tried.
After this great victory the rule of the Cerdingas was re-established in Wessex. Eventually Athelney was abandoned by our court in exile and also by the people and warriors who had shared this time. But Father had already laid his plans for a church and a monastery to be built on the island in thanks for his victory over the Danes. Ara looked darkly on the men who immediately started digging the foundations for this religious complex, but she said nothing.
We departed on a bright April morning and already our changed circumstances were made obvious by the fact that we had a glittering escort of housecarles drawn from the survivors of the thousand who had stood with Father against Guthrum. When we finally left the wetlands behind, Mother gave a small chest of gold to the marsh people who had guided us back to the Roman road that led directly to Chippenham. Father also sent word that more would be sent to the marshes just as soon as the treasury had been replenished.
The journey back through Somerset was a relaxed and happy experience, in direct contrast to the night we fled from the Danes, with warm sunshine and gentle wildflower-scented breezes instead of the freezing cold and the scent of snow on the air.
The day arrived when we finally rode into sight of Chippenham’s walls. The Danes had already left to go into exile in East Anglia, or to the continent to continue their raiding and pillaging. We were told that when they marched out, still carrying their weapons as agreed by the peace treaty, the Saxons watched them go in complete silence, the whole town agreeing to show them that they weren’t worthy of the effort needed to throw insults. In fact the only thing that was thrown was a single clod of earth that hit Guthrum himself in the middle of his back. But the old pirate at least had a sense of his own dignity and didn’t even turn to look to see who was responsible.
The town itself was in quite good repair. It isn’t true that the Danes always destroyed and despoiled the settlements they invaded. In fact the gates they’d smashed through on the night Chippenham was taken had been repaired and even the houses that had been burned down had been rebuilt or were in the process of being so. This more than anything proved to Father that the Danes planned to settle in our lands and make them their own. Somebody who intends to make a new kingdom doesn’t destroy the riches of the land where that new kingdom will be made once it’s conquered.
When our party reached the gates and passed through into the town, we found that the people had turned out to greet us in their hundreds and they cheered loud and long as we processed along the main streets. We rode directly behind the escort of housecarles on the neat little ponies Father had sent for us. As we also wore the fine clothes and jewels that had been sent at the same time as our ponies we probably made quite an impressive sight as we waved and smiled in acknowledgment of the cheering. I’d even replaced Mouse’s blood-stained battle collar with one that was studded with jewels and pearls, and he pranced proudly along like a parade horse.
Aethelgifu had spent much of the time since the defeat of the Danes literally singing the praises of the Lord of Hosts who had given us victory, and she raised her voice now to sing a stirring hymn which for some reason made the people cheer even louder.
Raarken and Ranhald then decided to join in from their place on Ara’s shoulders, their raucous voices easily drowning out our sister’s pious singing. Ara herself said not a word as she strode along between Edward’s and my ponies, her hands on their bridles, but she smiled secretly to herself as Aethelgifu gave up trying to compete with the ravens. A church and monastery might be being built on the island that her scinncraeft had helped to defend, but at least she could silence the hymn-singing that so affronted her pagan ears.
When at last we reached the wall that surrounded the palace complex we left the crowds behind. We rode through the gates into silence and for a moment we all sat quietly and stared at the mead hall we’d last seen at Christmas. Even little Aethelfryth held up her doll so that it too could see we were home again at last – or at least we were back in one of our homes. For how long we would stay there it wasn’t yet clear. We dismounted and as the housecarle escort marched off, we followed Mother through the massive doors and into the hall.
For a moment we paused on the threshold staring into the space before us. Logs blazed on the central hearth, the walls were still lined with the same hangings and weavings and even the same tables and benches stood neatly stacked at the sides of the hall.
Aethelfryth suddenly let out a whoop of delight and ran across the wide flagstone floor, chased by Aethelgifu who managed a sort of restrained shuffling run, as though she thought enjoying herself might be sinful in some way.
Edward and I watched them go but didn’t join in. Somehow it felt as though that sort of wild childish excitement belonged in the past for us, even though it was only four months since we’d spent Christmas afternoon chasing each other around that very hall.
“The battle has changed many things,” Ara said, reading our thoughts perfectly. “Not only for Wessex itself, but for those who stood in the wall of shields too, even if it was only for a few moments.”
“Have things changed so much?” I asked.
“You’ve defended the land and taken lives to do it: the times of childhood are no longer yours.”
I nodded and Edward quietly took my hand, something he hadn’t done since the day of the battle. “The next step on a long road, sis,” he said.
But time has a habit of making routines, and soon we were back at our daily round of schoolwork and training as though we’d never known any different. During the months on Athelney, our lessons in Latin and Greek had stopped, mainly because the priest who’d taught us hadn’t managed to escape from Chippenham. We all thought he’d been killed, but the day after we returned he suddenly appeared from wherever he’d been hiding, ready to carry on where he’d left off. Edward was deeply disappointed but Aethelgifu was delighted and I didn’t actually mind that much. I enjoyed my lessons, and like Father I believe education is the key to understanding the world and all its workings. Understand the world and you can rule it better ... or at least that small part you’re given to rule. Besides, Edward was stupid if he believed our teacher wouldn’t have been replaced if he had been killed.
But soon we left Chippenham and went on a Royal Process, a long tour throughout the land on our way back to Winchester, the capital of Wessex, where Father had one of his main palaces. The journey was deliberately slow, lasting over a month, so that we could show ourselves to the people and let them know they were ruled by Saxons once again.
When we finally reached Winchester the cathedral bells rang out and the streets were packed with crowds of cheering people. I’ve often wondered why they seemed so joyous that the old order of Saxon thegns a
nd overlords and royalty had come back. They don’t seem to have been treated particularly badly by the Danes, once the battles had ended and their rule had been accepted. Perhaps it’s because people just want to be ruled by their own folk, even if their lives are little changed by foreign rulers.
We quickly settled into our new routine and in less than two months Athelney became a memory that slowly got more and more distant. The Danes remained a threat of course, and Father began a programme of making and building towns in each region of Wessex that had strong defences and a garrison of professional soldiers. These he called ‘burghs’: they’d be a refuge for the people and a defensive point against the Danes if they tried to invade again. He also reorganised the fyrd, so that its training became better, and he improved its equipment, ensuring that every one of the part-time soldiers had a good shield, a spear and a helmet. If the Danes attacked again, they’d find an army of professional soldiers ready to defend the land and also a well-trained fyrd that would support them.
Both Edward and I found this defensive reorganisation and these improvements fascinating and Father often let us sit in on the meetings he had with his commanders and also the thegns who would rule the new towns. In fact learning ‘statecraft’, as Father called it, became an increasingly important part of our education.
As the years slowly went by our lives settled into a period of learning and growing and we came to fully fill the roles expected of us as members of the Cerdinga family. Edward became tall and strong and waited as patiently as he could for the time when he’d be able to grow his man’s beard. We three sisters also changed and soon I stood on the very threshold of that stage in life when the world would begin to think of me as a young woman, rather than a girl.
It was about then that we began to hear more and more about a young ealdorman called Ethelred who’d bravely fought the Danes and against all odds had protected the western part of the old Saxon kingdom of Mercia from their power.
Wessex shared a border with Mercia and Father was keen to make an alliance with this young fighter so that the two kingdoms could stand together against the Danish threat. Ethelred was invited on a state visit to Winchester and the entire town was soon in a state of uproar as preparations were made. All the damage to the gates, walls and buildings caused by the war had been repaired, and the palace precinct was smartened up with new paint and new wall hangings.
On the day that Ethelred and his party were due to arrive I got up early, spent an hour or so with Edward and Mouse training with the garrison housecarles and then I went and changed into my best and newest dress. This was made of the finest lamb’s wool and was dyed a beautiful deep blue that almost seemed to shimmer in the light. Even Aethelgifu complimented me when I first tried it on, saying that it made me look almost like a Saxon queen. I also put on some of my best jewellery to give me an extra edge of confidence, dressed Mouse in his special bejewelled parade collar and finally went to the hall where Father usually received his most important guests.
Down in the town I could hear the people cheering, and rightly assumed the Ealdorman of Mercia was already being escorted through the streets and would be arriving at the palace soon. I made my way to where Father’s great chair stood beneath the White Dragon banner of Wessex, ready to take up my rightful place nearby as the daughter of King Alfred. There was to be a state banquet to honour the Mercians, and sitting at the top table would give me a good view of the visitors. But as I got nearer I could see that someone was already there, sitting on the raised dais and swinging his legs. Mouse paused in mid-stride and scrutinised the figure, but before I could grab his collar in case he attacked, the dog relaxed and even wagged his tail.
“You’ll need to move from there soon,” I said as I walked up and guessed by his clothes that he was a high-ranking chamberlain of the Mercian court. “The king will shortly be here to receive your master.”
He smiled brightly and stood up. “Yes, I know. The escort of housecarles is already in the precinct; I just thought I’d have a look around before it got too busy.”
I studied him closely and decided to forgive him for not knowing who I was. He wasn’t that much older than me really, and even though he had his man’s beard, it was neatly trimmed and his clothes were well made and fitted him beautifully. Obviously Ethelred must value him, so it would be sensible to make friends with a man who could well be a close companion of the warrior who had kept the west of Mercia free from the Danes.
“I could show you the palace if you want,” I said in an attempt to make him feel welcome.
“Thank you, I’d like that,” he said smiling easily. “Beautiful hound by the way. An animal of his size must be a war-dog.”
“He is,” I answered simply and watched in quiet amazement as Mouse stepped forward to sniff the man’s hand and then rolled over on his back like the soppiest puppy.
The man laughed and rubbed Mouse’s chest in just the way my ferocious man-killing war-dog liked.
I’m not sure why I did it, but I took the young chamberlain all over the precinct, even showing him the kitchen annexe and the stables, but I have to say he was interested in everything and asked questions all the time.
“And the cooks can cope with feeding over three hundred guests at a time, you say?”
“Well yes ... as long as they don’t drink too much of the strong ale before it gets served in the mead hall.”
He nodded sympathetically. “Oh I know what you mean; only a month ago there was a gathering of the Mercian thegns in Tamworth. I hoped everyone would be on their best behaviour but Sigurd, the kitchen steward, had sampled too many of the beer barrels for quality. When he escorted the roast boar into the closing banquet, he fell over, then the servants carrying the boar fell over him, the following pages fell on to the boar, and one of them was small enough to get his head rammed up its ... well ... up its backside. And then the housecarles ran up to help, and it turned into a tug of war, with the housecarles pulling at the page’s legs, and the servants pulling at the boar, and the poor page bawling like a young lamb ... well anyway, it was chaos.”
I let out a snort. “Did you get into trouble?”
He grinned. “Not really: the thegns of Mercia are a rough and ready lot and they all joined in with what they obviously thought were fun and games. Even after the page had been freed they carried on for a while. It was difficult to instil a sense of dignity after that, so everyone just got drunk.”
He was full of stories like that and we continued to chat as we made our way back to the mead hall. By this time the place was packed to the rafters with soldiers and thegns and court officials. Edward and Aethelgifu were already standing behind their chairs at the top table and were watching Father and Mother parading through the hall towards their places of honour beneath the White Dragon banner. Both were dressed in their most splendid clothes and Father had on his royal regalia complete with the ancient iron crown of Wessex. But as they processed along with their best regal expressions in place, they both suddenly stopped and looked directly at me and the chamberlain.
“Ah, there you are, Ealdorman Ethelred! Where did you get to?” Father asked.
I turned with a gasp to the man beside me and watched as he bowed. “I was being conducted on a tour of your beautiful palace by your daughter, My Lord. I must say she’s an accomplished diplomat and entertaining guide.”
I should have been annoyed at the very least. He’d let me believe he was just a chamberlain and I’d prattled on about all sorts of rubbish. But somehow I didn’t feel he was laughing at me, and when he smiled I couldn’t help smiling back.
“Well I’m glad Aethelflaed kept you amused,” said Father quietly and as he looked at my mother I’m almost sure I saw him wink, as though a good idea had just occurred to him. “But now we have the serious business of a state banquet to deal with,” he went on briskly. “Ethelred, sit here beside me, and my daughter can sit next to you, as you find her so entertaining.”
Edward caught my eye
from where he stood behind his chair further down the table. Usually I sat next to him during special events like this, but this time I’d be sitting amongst the most important people in the kingdom. How times had changed. In the past Edward and I were kept apart at important events in case we misbehaved. Now we were separated because I seemed to have become part of the official welcome for the Mercian leader.
I shrugged and Edward grinned back at me. Obviously he thought I’d been clever to somehow get myself promoted to the centre of the top table and given a seat next to the main guest of the banquet, but all I’d done was to mistake an important ruler for a chamberlain. Still, I didn’t mind. Ethelred was much younger and much better-looking than the kings and generals who usually came to dinner.
In the end nothing more happened between us during the banquet. Ethelred and Father spent most of their time deep in a conversation that was so quiet I couldn’t hear a thing over the uproar of the mead hall. In fact I was just beginning to feel bored and wondering if I could make my way back to where I usually sat with Edward, when a silence began to make itself felt throughout the banquet. Soon it was so quiet I could hear myself breathing. Even the hounds down in the main body of the hall had fallen silent and just sat quietly waiting as though they’d been given the order to do so.
I looked up and saw Ara filling the hall with her dark presence and slowly walking towards the top table. Both Raarken and Ranhald sat on her shoulders, and she was holding Aethelfryth’s hand. My sister walked with dignity beside her, completely unaware of the awe people felt for the wise woman who was her nurse. In fact, Aethelfryth was now about as old as I was when we’d fled to Athelney and didn’t really need looking after in the same way, but I don’t think anyone dared tell Ara this. Also my sister didn’t seem to mind, so why kick a hornets’ nest when you can step quietly round it?
At one point on her journey towards the top table, Ara was forced to wait because a bench had been pushed out into the aisle between the tables, blocking her path. But as soon as the people on the bench realised that Ara was standing silently behind them, they all scrambled to their feet and dragged it out of the way. The old woman walked on without a word while her ravens glared about them and croaked to each other as though discussing the guests.