Wolves of War

by Martin Lake

  The men left the hut and a wooden bar secured the door. Leif waited a little while and hopped over to the door, tugged at it but realised it would not give. There was no way he could open if from inside.

  He cursed but then thought better of it. This was infinitely better than the murderous cell he had languished in. There was a pile of coarse blankets on the floor and a stool. Beside this was a beaker, a jug of ale and a platter with a large chunk of bread. They didn’t mean him to starve.

  He sipped at the ale. It was bitter and caught at his throat. The bread was dry and hard and would beguile his time here by lengthy chewing.

  He settled himself on the stool and pondered what his fate would be. He knew that he would live only as long as he appeared useful to the two royal brothers.

  And to do that he would need to weave a web of lies in which to trap their interest.

  THE SPIDER CAUGHT

  Thankfully for Leif, the brothers’ desire for information about Ivar and his army meant that he was periodically freed from his hut to answer their questions.

  He relished the freedom from confinement but was, nevertheless, disquieted by the experience. Æthelred and Alfred were shrewd and sifted his words with as much care as he used in uttering them. They had good memories too; early on they caught him out when he contradicted something he had said two days previously. He was more guarded after that.

  They chiefly wanted to know what manner of men Ivar and his brothers were. Leif had to steer treacherous waters here. He wanted them to fear the Vikings but not enough to grow desperate and do something foolish. He also needed them to believe that he was important to Ivar and that he would seek vengeance if he were harmed. So he wove a tapestry of falsehoods, making them believe that he was not only Ivar’s Skald but one of his closest companions, long time his friend, privy to his secrets and deep in his trust.

  He also led them to believe that he was greatly esteemed for his wise counsel. Æthelred, in particular, was persuaded of this and began to seek him out for advice on other matters. He obeyed with all alacrity. If it kept him alive he would as soon serve the Saxon as Ivar.

  Alfred, however, proved more suspicious and knowing. He was constantly trying to trip him up. And when he appeared to be simply asking for an opinion Leif suspected he had a hidden motive. One which he could not instantly quite fathom.

  He came to loathe Alfred. Fortunately, he found that over time he began to understand his way of thinking and learned to be just as wily and devious.

  Not that the prince spent that much time with Leif. His interests lay elsewhere, with any pretty girl who crossed his path. Although he was newlywed it did not seem to alter his need to bed slaves, servants and the daughters of peasants and thegns.

  They left Cheddar four weeks after arriving there. Although it was one of the King’s greatest halls and had vast holdings, there were limits to how long it could sustain him and all his followers. The stocks of food had run dangerously low. Even the game in the surrounding hills had been hunted until only the wariest creatures survived, proving hard to catch.

  So the king and his entourage travelled twenty south to another of his halls at Somerton. It was a goodly place, although smaller than Cheddar, a low-lying land grazed by vast herds of sheep and cows. Leif had never seen so many and the king and his followers feasted hugely on their meat, consuming just enough to ensure that those left over would be able to survive the winter and keep fat on the store of hay.

  Three weeks after arriving there they moved on for the winter rains had begun and Somerton was a low-lying settlement and prone to flooding. They headed to a town called Dorchester where they stayed for a week.

  Leif marvelled at the wealth of the lands they travelled through. He had never seen so many farms and sturdy villages, so many large well-tended fields, so many herds of cattle, flocks of sheep and rooting pigs. It was a much richer land than Northumbria, or even Mercia. The people looked hale and well-fed and the thegns who welcomed the king on his journey lived in goodly halls in prosperous settlements.

  The days grew cold and short and they left Dorchester and headed to Wareham, a large port on a sheltered inlet leading to the sea. This was a wealthy place and Æthelred planned to spend Yule here.

  It was during Yule that Leif heard rumours that Alfred had fallen sick with some strange and ghastly malady which returned to him every day or so. No leech could cure it and, at first, even the most powerful of their Christ-wizards were at a loss as to the cause.

  But then even Leif and Kolga began to hear rumours as to the reason. The first time Alfred had suffered this ailment was the night after he had returned to Wessex, bare weeks after having wedded the Mercian woman, Ealswith. It was not long before it was whispered that she was a foreign witch and had cursed him. Men avoided her and women grew wary.

  Her only companions were those servants she had brought from Mercia, although it had to be said that Æthelred and his wife Wulfthryth were pleasant to her. How much this was genuine and how much diplomatic was not clear.

  Alfred, on the other hand, appeared to show little compassion for his wife in her distress. He was polite and attentive enough but he kept his warmth for other women. His friends treated her with disdain.

  Except for two. One was a young noble by the name of Ethelnoth. He was a big, bluff, hearty, good-natured man, always ready with a jest and as keen to chase women as Alfred. He was even friendly with Leif, taking the Viking as he saw him and not as an enemy. Ethelnoth and Alfred were bosom friends, closer than brothers or lovers.

  Edgwulf was the second of Alfred’s friends who treated Ealswith kindly. He was of peasant stock, a ceorl, not the normal sort to mingle with the thegns and churchman who thronged the king’s hall. But he was Alfred’s childhood friend and, despite Æthelred’s attempts to persuade him that he was not a worthy companion, Alfred insisted in keeping him close.

  Leif soon came to realise why.

  Edgwulf was as loyal as only the most stupid ceorl can be when star-struck by a powerful, wealthy man. The sort who duped himself into believing he is more important to his lord than is the case.

  Except Edgwulf was not stupid. Far from it. He was the cleverest man Leif had ever met.

  Whenever the young Saxon was near Leif grew fretful. While he suspected that Alfred saw through most of his lies, he knew, for a certainty, that Edgwulf saw through them all.

  Even though he knew that he was completely dependent upon Alfred, Edgwulf was not afraid to disagree with him and there were sometimes heated arguments between them. Yet Alfred never appeared to bear a grudge.

  Because of Alfred’s favour, Edgwulf was tolerated by the great lords and ladies. Tolerated but not liked. Few hid their disquiet that prince and peasant should be so familiar.

  Yet how others thought made no difference. Alfred, Edgwulf and Ethelnoth were inseparable.

  In the early spring they left Wareham and travelled to Winchester. It was an immense city with high stone walls, large and wealthy churches, numerous halls and many fine houses. The people there were well-fed and clothed and strutted the streets as if they were lords of the earth. It was a place built to be plundered and Ivar would have been delighted to hear about it.

  It was here that Ealswith announced that she was with child. There was some celebration from Æthelred and his wife. But amongst his followers there was much talk that she would give birth to a demon. If Ealswith ever heard such comments she gave no sign.

  The only people who showed genuine pleasure at the pregnancy were Alfred and his two friends. Ethelnoth, who appeared to have a woman in every town, was especially enthusiastic, while Edgwulf seemed more concerned to watch out for her to see that she had no mishap.

  Alfred seemed as bemused and excited as any young husband at hearing the news. Leif often came upon him watching Ealswith’s belly as if he sought to see who was growing inside. His former coolness to his wife disappeared overnight.

  Not so the coolness of most people towards his two
friends.

  It was only a few days later that Leif came to understand why Edgwulf was so disliked.

  He was summoned to Alfred’s hall early in the morning. The guard took him to where Alfred and his two friends were warming themselves by a brazier.

  ‘I have a question for you, Dane,’ Alfred said, without any friendlier welcome.

  ‘I am here to serve,’ Leif said.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ he replied. ‘Let’s not pretend.’

  Leif inclined his head. ‘Your question, my lord?’ It already seemed like they were beginning to engage in sword-play.

  ‘You Vikings are renowned for your mastery of ships,’ Alfred said, ‘ships which can move with utmost swiftness. So, tell me, why does your army have so many horses?’

  ‘I’m not sure it has that many horses,’ Leif said, playing for time. ‘Not as many as your army, I think.’

  ‘I believe it has more. Or so say our friends who keep watch on Ivar in Nottingham.’

  Leif was astonished to hear that the Saxons had spies in Mercia and wondered who they were keeping watch on, Ivar or Burgred.

  ‘Well?’ Alfred said. ‘Why does Ivar have so many horses?’

  Leif was uncertain how best to answer. He had come to realise that large tracts of Wessex were not close to rivers and, therefore, comparatively safe from attack by ship. It seemed likely that Alfred had grown concerned that so many horsemen might indicate a threat to Wessex.

  ‘Many of the horses are pack-animals, only,’ Leif said. He watched Alfred narrowly to see if he would swallow this.

  ‘Pack animals are necessary for an army on the move,’ Ethelnoth said. ‘Perhaps you plan to move against us.’

  A spasm of annoyance crossed Alfred’s face. He had learned not to give too much away to Leif when they sparred. Ethelnoth, clearly, had not.

  ‘Across Mercia?’ Leif said. ‘King Burgred would not let us march across his kingdom.’

  ‘But if he did?’ Alfred said.

  ‘I’ve said before, Ivar has designs upon East Anglia, not upon Wessex.’

  ‘Then why not go by ship? Why the need for so many horses?’

  Leif gave a warmer chuckle than he felt. ‘Because men cannot eat ships. But when times get hard they can eat horses.’

  Alfred leaned back in his seat, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

  ‘That makes sense to me,’ Edgwulf said. ‘We do well to listen to Leif. He is, remember, more than merely a skald.’

  Leif did not reply, wondering what was behind his words.

  ‘That is true, is it not?’ Edgwulf continued. ‘I seem to recall that you assisted your brother in making Ivar’s sword.’

  ‘Did I say that?’ Leif asked, nervously.

  ‘No,’ Ethelnoth said. ‘It was Kolga. She told me when I was bedding her.’

  Leif blinked in amazement at his words.

  ‘Ah yes,’ Edgwulf said. ‘I recall now.’ He turned to Leif. ‘So you are both a skald and a smith?’

  ‘My brother is the smith,’ Leif answered, still pondering the news that Ethelnoth and Kolga had become lovers and wondering how best to make use of this.

  ‘But you assist your brother,’ Edgwulf said. He looked suddenly perplexed. ‘Didn’t Ivar think it odd that his Skald should also be helping make his sword?’

  ‘I didn’t know Ivar until he bought the sword,’ Leif answered. ‘He wanted a potent weapon for his move against England.’

  Edgwulf appeared surprised. ‘But how can this be?’ he said. ‘I thought you had long time been a friend and counsellor of Ivar. That you were as thick as thieves?’

  Leif realised his mistake at once. He had secured his safety, his life, by pretending that he was closer to Ivar than even his brothers. Now Edgwulf had tricked him into revealing this to be a lie.

  Leif glanced at Edgwulf. His look of surprise had disappeared and been replaced by a look of triumph.

  ‘I’m sorry if I suggested this, my lord,’ Leif said.

  ‘I’m not a lord.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I’m still sorry if I misled you. I have known Ivar only a few years but from the very first weeks he came to value my counsel. My friendship should I say.’

  ‘Of course,’ Edgwulf said. ‘Of course.’

  His voice was understanding, consoling. But he had caught Leif like a rat in a trap and all four men knew it.

  Leif risked a glance at Alfred. His eyes were cold and watchful. ‘Thank you for telling us about the appetite you Vikings have for eating horse-flesh,’ he said finally. ‘And for how speedily you heathens become the most intimate of friends.’

  He dismissed Leif with a curt wave of his hand.

  Leif got to his feet, bowed and left the hall. He hurried to the latrines, voiding his bowels as soon as he squatted down.

  Loki has tricked me again, he thought, made me cock-sure and negligent. And I’ve completely under-estimated that bastard Edgwulf.

  H pulled up his breeches and went in search of Kolga. She was in her lodgings, a far more splendid place than his hovel. It was warm and well furnished, fit for her status as a jarl.

  ‘You look troubled,’ she said

  ‘I am. Alfred has found out that I’m not the great friend of Ivar that we’ve led him to believe.’

  ‘Is that a problem?’

  ‘It might lead to my death,’ he said bitterly. ‘I think I’d call that a problem.’

  ‘Why are you telling me this?’ she asked.

  ‘Because they found out when you told your lover, Ethelnoth.’

  ‘I told him no such thing. And how do you know he is my lover?’

  ‘You might not have told him outright. But you told him that I worked in the smith with my brother.’

  ‘What of it? Ethelnoth doesn’t think deeply enough to make anything of it.’

  ‘He might not but Edgwulf does.’

  ‘Ah. The ceorl. He’s clever, that one. More than the rest of them put together.’ She frowned. ‘Apart, perhaps from that pup of a prince he follows so loyally.’

  ‘I don’t care about all that,’ Leif said. ‘I care about my life.’

  Kolga began to smile but then saw the look on his face and grew serious. ‘So what are you going to do about it?’

  ‘I’m going to run. I’m going to go back to Ivar.’

  She blinked in astonishment. ‘You must be mad. You have no idea where we are or how to find Ivar.’

  ‘I only have to find the ancient road we travelled on. It’s straight as a spear and will take me back north.’

  ‘But what if Ivar’s moved on?’

  ‘He won’t have done. Not in the depths of winter.’

  She laughed. ‘It’s clear that you don’t know him as well as you pretend. Ivar will move as swift as a wolf if he has need to. And you may not have noticed, but it’s spring. He could be anywhere.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I’m going north.’

  He turned away but then paused.

  ‘Do you wish to come with me?’ he asked.

  Kolga took a deep breath and glanced around the room. It was probably as comfortable as anywhere she had dwelt before.

  ‘I suppose if you leave I might be blamed for it,’ she said, quietly. She took a deep breath. ‘I think you’re a fool, Leif and this escape is madness. So, yes, I’ll come with you.’

  ‘Good,’ he said and meant it.

  ESCAPE

  Leif and Kolga had been prisoners so long the Saxons’ initial suspicions that they would flee had almost ceased. Even as they journeyed with the king across Wessex they were watched less and less. But Winchester was so large, so busy and with so many strangers they were hardly watched at all. They were expected to attend King Æthelred or his brother at meal times and guards took them to their lodgings at night and locked them in. But during the day they were free to wander the town.

  And what a town it was. Leif dimly remembered seeing towns in Francia as a child but few seemed as rich and thriving as Winchester. It was surrounded by old Roman wa
lls, although many stretches were ill-made and some almost derelict. It would take little effort to overrun such defences, he thought.

  He particularly liked to wander among the small farmsteads which dotted the outskirts of the town. New-born lambs gambolled in the fields and ponds provided havens for huge flocks of geese and ducks. Even more pleasant were the many orchards, with trees already budding in the mild air.

  Less pleasant were the tanneries on the edge of the city, near the river. Less pleasant but to Leif, gruesomely fascinating.

  Boys from butcher stalls unloaded animal skins into vats full of piss which were replenished constantly by old women hauling pots and buckets from the town. The skins were soaked for several days, growing more noisome by the hour. Then men fished out the skins, heedless of how much they got drenched, scraped off the last remaining hairs and bristles and pounded dog or pigeon dung into them.

  A few men preferred to pour the dung into a trough of water, climb in and knead the mess for two or three hours. Leif was amazed at how content they appeared, staring at the scene around them or chatting with their friends. The stench was overwhelming, catching so sharply at his throat he thought he would vomit.

  But he was most interested in the smithies dotted along the edges of the built-up areas. Most of the smiths were local men although there was a Dane and a Norwegian who worked together as Sigurd and Leif had done. There were also half a dozen Franks, a man from Hungary with sharp, clever eyes and a youth who claimed he was from Rome.

  But Leif was most intrigued by a dark-faced man from Cordoba who made the finest swords and knives in the city and was well rewarded for doing so. He was called Hisham and was very friendly. Leif occasionally helped him with his bellows and they exchanged stories of their homelands. It made Leif homesick and he yearned still more for his freedom.

  Hisham was married to a Saxon girl although he still prayed four times a day to his own God and never drank ale or wine. After Leif helped him with a particularly intricate sword Hisham offered to pay him two silver pennies.