by M J Porter
A small malicious smile played around his lips, and Leofwine immediately realised that the Duke and his sister did not, perhaps, see eye to eye on everything.
“Come Ǽlfgifu, introduce yourself to Lord Leofwine.”
The young girl, for she could be no older than fifteen years, stood quickly from her seat close to a brazier warming her and a small army of other women, and strode confidently towards Leofwine.
She was slight with long wavy blonde hair, unbound and free-flowing down her back. She was richly dressed and jewels sparkled at her neck and from her dress brooches. She shared her brother’s face and quick eyes and curtseyed when she came close to Leofwine.
“It is good to meet you, my Lord.” Her voice was low and soft as she spoke in his language and stumbled in places over the unfamiliar words. Leofwine attempted to answer her with the words that Horic had assured him would mean ‘welcome’. Her hand was feather-like in his as she smiled at his words and when she walked away, back to her seat. Leofwine wondered if his King would appreciate her fully. If he wanted more sons and more daughters, he should perhaps have chosen a more solid-looking bride, but it was too late for regrets now.
“I hope she meets with yours and your King’s approval,” Richard said, his eyes watching her critically for any misstep.
“She’s a beautiful woman, and I’m sure that Æthelred will be more than pleased with her, and hopefully she will be with him.”
Richard laughed at the words, the noise echoing in the still atmosphere, “Well, he better be pleased. This marriage is a hard-fought piece of diplomacy, and I don’t want it to fail. However, we do have some small problems we must discuss first.”
“Indeed, my Lord, I’d expected no less.”
“But come, we’ll drink and feast in my hall and then, we’ll turn to business.”
Abruptly Duke Richard stood, and waiting for his wife to do the same, he strode from the church, indicating that Leofwine should follow. Feeling a little uncertain, Leofwine hesitated a moment and then felt a soft hand in the crook of his arm.
“I’ll show you,” Ǽlfgifu said, as she walked beside him.
“Your dog, what is her name?”
Hunter glanced at Leofwine where she walked in front of him, and Leofwine smiled. The dog always seemed to know when she was being spoken about.
“Her name’s Hunter and she helps me to see.”
“Hunter … it’s not a girl’s name?”
“No, not at all. Why?”
“My brother says that I must adopt another name in your country – Emma. Is that a girl’s name?”
Leofwine studied the girl for a moment. She looked pensive as she both fought for the words she wanted and attempted to keep her composure. Perhaps the King changing her name to suit himself was a step too far for her.
“Yes, a girl’s name and a beautiful one at that. I take it someone explained why the King might wish to call you by another name?”
She looked at him quizzically,
“Is it not that he just doesn’t like the name?”
“No, that’s not the case. It’s that you, unfortunately, share a name with his first wife.”
The girl flushed brightly at the mention of his previous wife, looking uncomfortable and faltering in her steady steps.
“I’m sure that in the privacy of your own rooms, your servants may still call you by that name.”
The young girl brightened at the words and strode a little more confidently through the open doorway to the outside world.
****
Now that Leofwine wasn’t fixated on where he was going he was able to take in the view around him. Far out to sea he could see tiny boats fishing, and down the hill they’d just walked up there was a tidy selection of houses and small fields with animals or plants growing within. Behind the church and obscured by it until they’d walked all around the wooden structure, was a large hall into which the Duke was walking. The ground they travelled across was hard-packed earth, dry for now, but he wondered if, when the rains came, it would descend into mud and puddles.
Behind him he knew Horic walked close to him, as did Lyfing and Ǽlfhun, but he felt vastly outnumbered as he saw the stream of men coming from the church. Amongst them strode Leofsige and Swein. The thought was not comforting, and with a quiet word, he sent Lyfing and Ǽlfhun running back to the ship to collect another ten of the best fighting men. He felt confident for the moment that nothing untoward would happen, but he didn’t wish to risk it. He’d understood this mission was one of peace and reconciliation; he didn’t yet know what Leofsige and Swein’s presence meant.
The Duke presented Leofwine with a huge feast to mark the occasion of his arrival and had Leofwine sit beside him at the front of his great wooden hall. Candles lit the dark interior, and a large smoking fire was contained within a huge fire pit in the centre of the palace. Its smoke drifted lazily in the still air and occasionally erupted through the small smoke vents in the ceiling.
The men of the Duke’s court were seated in rows facing their Duke and Leofwine, and throughout the feast Leofwine felt their scrutiny and scrupulously avoided looking in the direction that Horic had told him Swein of Denmark occupied. Still, he could feel the man’s eyes on him, and he couldn’t help but notice that the Duke often glanced his way, a distracted look on his face.
At his side sat Ǽlfgifu, neatly picking her way through the food placed before them, and beside her, Horic was robust in his consumption of the feast and verbose in his conversations with men who spoke his own tongue. Throughout the long evening, his full-bodied laughter could be heard ringing out and each time it did, Ǽlfgifu tensed a little at his side.
Leofwine and the Duke made talk of little consequence until after they’d eaten and the food had been cleared away. Then, with a cup of mead in his hand, Richard turned towards Leofwine, his face intent.
“My Lord, you’ll see that you have caught me at an inconvenient time. My Lords Swein and Leofsige have come to me and asked me for assistance in getting Leofsige back into the favour of the King. If I’m not able, they’ve threatened to attack my lands as well as your King’s.”
Leofwine had expected no less from the disgraced Leofsige. He’d wondered why he’d so casually taken his leave from the country.
“That is, as you say, most unfortunate, but I think it has no bearing on my being here.”
Richard openly glared at Leofwine’s attempt to sidestep the issue.
“Ah, but I think it does. And I believe you agree as well, for all your nonchalance. The agreement with the King was for this wedding to put a stop to attacks on each other’s lands. It was never my intention that it should bring me into conflict with the King of Denmark and one of his followers.”
Leofwine raised his eyebrows in surprise,
“The thought that it might bring you into conflict didn’t cross your mind then?”
Richard sputtered a little at the direct question, “Well no, that’s not true, but I’d hoped to have had her wedded and bedded before anything happened. At the moment, it’s still a theoretical wedding, and I could refuse to let it go ahead.”
“But then you will garner the hatred of the King of England, who sits on your doorstep, as opposed to the King of Denmark who, unless he’s a man far stronger than I think, can only send his ship army against you. My King could, by right, have his household troops sent to your lands, and they could ravage and burn as they go.”
Richard turned away to stare at Swein of Denmark and nodded in understanding,
“You do make a worthy point there. But Swein has huge numbers of ships to call upon. Your King, I think, does not.”
“To attack your lands, King Ǽthelred doesn’t need huge numbers of ships. It’s taken us less than a day to get here and would take less than a day to journey back. Think, in six days, we could transport almost the entire population of England here. I don’t think that Swein has that ability.”
The Duke swallowed hard at Leofwine’s words and tur
ned to scowl at him,
“You again make a convincing case for my continued support of Æthelred. But I think you don’t fully understand the terror of one of Swein of Denmark’s attacks.”
A bitter laugh at those hastily cast words earned Leofwine a penetrating glare.
“Apologies my Lord, I’d forgotten the nature of your wounds. If it eases the situation, your scar is so much a part of you that I didn’t see it.”
Leofwine shrugged, “It doesn’t ease it, but it’s good to know that my scar has faded from something to stare at to something to ignore, and as you say I’m only too aware of Swein of Denmark and his might. When did he arrive?”
“Only yesterday and since then he’s done little but bend my ear about how worthless your King is, and you in particular. And Leofsige, I don’t think he really wants his land back. He’s too busy enjoying the comforts that Swein can offer him. It’s a pretext and nothing more, but still, the man is here and he’s brought ten of his ships with him and his warriors have made a point of parading themselves through the town and scaring my people. I don’t like it.”
“I’d not like it either, but, ten ships? Is that all he thinks it’ll take to scare you from your alliance? I think he sells you too cheaply.”
The remark hit home, as Richard flinched, “And your King doesn’t; he sends only three ships.”
“But we came in peace, my Lord. We didn’t come to threaten you and yours.”
The Duke again turned his gaze back to Swein of Denmark. The man was blatantly staring straight back, aware he was the subject of their discussion. Leofwine turned to watch him with interest, finally looking at the man without fear. Putting the person to the name was liberating in a way he’d not expected. In his mind, Swein had somehow become an omniscient God capable of anything and everything in his quest to take England and exact his revenge on Leofwine. It was refreshing to realise that he was just a man, as fallible to injury and death as any other. Whatever Swein hoped to accomplish, he only had the resources of any other man at his fingertips.
“I’ll think about this more, but I imagine, I’ll eventually agree with you. But be warned, Swein of Denmark doesn’t wish you and your King well. If I let you leave here with my sister, I expect some reassurance that she’ll not be captured by them and borne off to be one of their bed slaves. She’s a delicate creature and must be treated with respect.”
“Of course, my Lord, I’ll guard her as if she were to be my own wife. Already, some of my best men are within your hall, and standing guard outside. The King of England trains his men well and ensures that they’re well equipped. And of course, many of these men rescued me from the Outer Isles and saw me safely home,” he added as an aside. He didn’t want the Duke to forget that he already had a claim against Swein of Denmark.
****
That night Leofwine was offered a room within the Duke’s hall that would have been impolitic to refuse. Still, he slept little and woke the next morning hopeful that the Duke would’ve decided that they could leave and take Ǽlfgifu with them.
She’d been a charming companion throughout the long night of feasting and Leofwine had detected a certain feistiness in her that he thought his King would enjoy discovering. If he’d not been quite so happy with Ǽthelflaed, he might have felt a little jealous at his King’s good fortune.
As he broke his fast in the same spot he’d occupied at the feast last night, Ǽlfgifu and Richard walked towards him, a small tight smile on her face while he looked resolute and determined, his step long and confident.
“Good morning, My Lord.”
“Good morning to you, My Lord and My Lady.” His choice of words clearly irritated Duke Richard as his face blanched a little of colour. Leofwine hid his amusement. The Duke must have only just realised that his sister would soon be a Queen whereas he would remain a Duke.
With a composure that Leofwine admired, Duke Richard spoke again. “After much consideration, I’ve decided that the wedding will go ahead, and the treaty will be ratified. You may leave today. Ǽlfgifu is packed and ready to leave, as are her servants who will accompany her. She also carries a letter with her that I trust your King will act upon with all haste. It’s a small favour to ensure the safety of my sister.”
Confusion knit Leofwine’s brow as he wondered what provision the Duke might have stipulated. He was in the unfortunate position of not being able to ask the Duke what he wanted of his King while having to agree to it, all at the same time. Long moments had passed before he spoke,
“I’m sure that no favour you ask of my King will be problematic. He’s keen for the wedding to take place with all speed, and as such, I’ll pledge my word in the place of that of my King’s.”
“As I knew you would, my Lord. And now, to the less welcome news.”
He’d already dismissed Ǽlfgifu from his thoughts, and she stumbled towards her seat, uncertainty on her young face. Her brother had told her she would leave today but had offered no further words as to how she should proceed and so she chose to eat as she would on any normal day.
“Less welcome news?”
“Yes, I have reports that Swein of Denmark and Lord Leofsige left during the night with all their men.”
“My Lord?”
“They’d not moored at the harbour as you had, but a little distance away. My men tell me that all the ships are gone, but I’m unsure which way they travelled. Hopefully, it was not towards England.”
“Hopefully not, indeed. Perhaps it would be best if we departed in all haste from this place. I’d sooner reach England today.”
“Of course, Lord Leofwine, I entirely agree. But first, I must insist on a small mass of celebration for my sister’s impending wedding and then we’ll allow you to leave.”
“As you will, my Lord.” Leofwine bowed his head and strode from the hall. He had messages for his men, and he wanted to ensure that those still on the ships were aware of the possible threat.
He wished he’d managed to speak to Swein of Denmark and Leofsige, but the Duke had kept him occupied throughout the evening, and when he’d finally had a chance to seek out the pair, they’d long departed from the feast. He’d thought to speak to them today, offer Leofsige what support he could in the hope that he would not ally with Swein. It appeared that he’d been denied the opportunity and he wondered whether it was at Swein’s prompting, or Leofsige’s own.
****
The mass was, thankfully, a short affair as the Duke had dictated and by midday Leofwine was aboard his ship with the soon-to-be Queen and on his way home again.
Ǽlfgifu had become tearful at leaving, but once out on the slightly rolling sea, she’d calmed and become intrigued by Horic and his songs. She blushed quite prettily in places and Leofwine decided it was best not to ask his men to stop their raucous singing; it was working well as a distraction.
She and her four servants, hunting hound and a small amount of luggage were safely stowed in the middle compartment of the ship, where they were sheltered from the occasional wave that washed over it. She clutched the letter to her chest that her brother had given into her safekeeping, and as much as Leofwine wanted to grill her on its contents, he did not. He fervently hoped that his King wouldn’t be angry with him for whatever it was he’d unknowingly agreed to.
Just out of sight of his homeland, Ælfric shouted a warning to Leofwine. Horic stood abruptly and stared hard at where Ælfric pointed and then swore, long and hard.
Leofwine wasn’t able to see anything where the men looked but he feared he knew what it was, and when Horic stopped his tirade he had his fears confirmed.
“Swein of Denmark and his bastard ship army are following us.”
“Just following us?”
“Just following us, he says, like it’s of no importance,” Horic railed, his worry colouring his words and making him speak without due deference to Leofwine. Leofwine decided to ignore it, a thread of fear making him as unguarded as Horic.
“For now, yes, they ju
st follow us, but if the wind changes and the mood so takes him, I’m sure he could catch us.”
“I hardly see how. He has the same number of men as us and the wind is hardly favourable although he does have his sail raised.”
“I’d love to agree with you, Leofwine, but if there’s one thing I’ve learnt, we Northmen can row bloody fast when there’s easy prey to be had.”
“With thanks for calling us all prey, Horic.” Leofwine spoke with asperity.
“Apologies, my Lord, but that is what we’ll be seen as. I was worried they were lying in wait for us and now it appears as though I was right.”
“Ælfric, can we go faster?”
“Aye, my Lord, we can. I don’t much like Horic’s words that the Northmen are faster. I’m sure we can outrun them.”
“Then that is what we’ll do. Come, signal the other ships and, Horic, I suggest you show us just how fast you can row.”
“My Lord,” Horic said, striding back to his space along the side of the ship,
“Come on men, the faster we row, the faster we can find ourselves with our wives, and we can enjoy ourselves.”
Horic’s words occasioned some laughter, and then the ship took off to the increased pace of the oarsmen. Leofwine stayed standing, even as the ship bounced and crashed through the waves. Ælfric stood at his side and the pair kept a silent vigil watching the spectre of the other ships float in and out of clear view. Ǽlfgifu, having understood most of the conversation between the men, stayed silent but her gaze never left Leofwine’s face, watching it intently for any sign that her future might become doubtful.
As the sun began its descent, Swein’s ships became even harder to see as the clouds and sea merged into one expanse, but the welcome sight of their coastline quickly came into view. Still Leofwine did not let up on his shipmen. Only when they reached dry land would they be safe, or so he hoped. He did allow the image of Swein and his men surging onto English land to enter his mind but he quickly banished it, more out of hope than any assurance that Swein wouldn’t attack.
Within clear sight of the port they’d left from only yesterday morning, Leofwine allowed the sweating, heaving men, to slacken their efforts. They were exhausted after a full half day’s heavy rowing, and Leofwine could clearly see more of his King’s ship army stationed around the port and hustling to ready themselves and escort the ships in. They’d seen the enemy too.