by M J Porter
“Earl Godwine will have a new victim for his games.”
“He will yes, but so will many others. Lord Edward has hardly shown he’s enamoured of you.”
“I wouldn’t expect him to. We don’t know each other, not at all well, and I refuse to make decisions about a man based on his position, and what his parents are like.”
“Yes, but you still like him far more than you do Harthacnut.”
“Lord Edward doesn’t appear to be one for making snap decisions either,” Leofric announced.
“Then perhaps you’ll make the greatest of allies. Certainly, family ties haven’t aided your cause, and neither has being a highly respected earl. Perhaps a shared refusal to make such quick decisions will give you something in common. It’ll be a basis to build a friendship on.”
Leofric turned to face Orkning, startled by the observation. There was no humour in Orkning’s eyes, none at all, and Leofric nodded to accept his assessment of the situation.
There was much at stake for the future, and Leofric felt entirely incapable of determining just what would happen.
“Time will tell,” Leofric stated, but there was no hope in his voice, just the realisation that he’d need to survive whatever came his way.
Chapter 15
AD1041
Leofric
Leofric turned to meet the eyes of his son, surprised by his sudden appearance. Something flashed there that he didn’t understand.
“What?” he demanded to know, not liking the scrutiny.
The relationship between him and his son was strained by the knowledge that they both knew that Earl Siward was a murderer and yet could do nothing about it. Ælfgar, with the flush of youth, thought Leofric should confront the king. Leofric knew he needed to wait for his rush of fury to fade. And, he also needed the king to agree to see him privately. And the king had only just made the arrangement.
“Do you know where my mother is?” there was a challenge in the voice. Leofric paused in his task of collecting his rent books from the table to truly look at Ælfgar.
His son had aged, while somehow remaining young.
A father in his own right, with three children now, a new daughter born only in the last few days, and with unending responsibilities, Ælfgar had always seemed to thrive, and yet now he seemed agitated. Even his cloak hung askew from his shoulders, and Leofric felt a growing sense of dread.
His wife had no love for their king. Ever since the reburial of King Harald, Leofric had watched his wife become increasing enmeshed in matters of local governance. She was not scared of the king, not at all. If anything, she was challenged by him and determined to do everything possible to upset his desire to rule peacefully, and with an iron will, in England.
“My Lady Mother has ridden into Coventry.”
“Good God, no,” Leofric was half out of his chair before Ælfgar had finished speaking. Ælfgar’s arched eyebrow was all Leofric needed to see to understand the somewhat innocuous-sounding words.
“Have my horse saddled,” Leofric called imperiously, hunting for his cloak and boots from where he’d discarded them close to the hearth. It had been a long morning, and he’d been looking forward to relaxing.
“Bring me a cloak, for Lady Godgifu,” the servant ran to do his bidding, while Ælfgar watched on, a wry twerk on his lips, enjoying his father’s frustration.
“Did you encourage her?” Leofric demanded to know. He could feel the colour on his face rising, and his fury building at his son’s abrupt change of emotion. He’d gone from being the one who was furious to the one enjoying the response his words had garnered.
Damn the bloody woman.
Yet, Leofric could admit, he was impressed as well.
His wife, rarely content to be a wife, was in the process of doing something that would reach the ears of Harthacnut, no matter what Leofric did now.
And what he would do now was not a mystery to him.
“She didn’t need any encouragement. You know her feelings toward our king and his taxes, and she’s been waiting for you to intercede.”
“Yes, yes, I know her feelings only too well. It’s as though she can do nothing but criticise our king. Not that I rarely disagree with her.”
Ælfgar nodded, following his father, as Leofric hopped into his boots, and tried to fix his cloak at the same time as walking outside to where his horse would be waiting for him.
“Did she go alone?” the thought only occurred to Leofric as he strode into the stables, and tried to count his horses.
“No, she didn’t go alone,” Ælfgar confirmed, only for Leofric to round on him.
“How do you know about this and I don’t? Have you come from Coventry?”
“No, I was on the way here, and someone rode passed me, shouting for all to hear that Lady Godgifu was in Coventry, on her horse. I came to tell you about my daughter,” aggravation touched Ælfgar’s voice.
“Good God,” Leofric stopped abruptly, squeezing his eyes closed. “That damn woman will be the death of me. But congratulations. I’m overjoyed for you and Elgiva.”
Ælfgar grunted his agreement to his father’s words as he mounted his horse, waiting patiently, the reins looped around the stable door.
“Let’s hope we find her in time.”
Leofric was pleased to see that six of his men had rushed to follow him, half-skipping from the hall as he was, Orkning amongst them. They would make a fine force.
“I sent Ælfwine and Otryggr on ahead. They’ve no instructions to intervene, unless it proves necessary. But they’ll safeguard My Lady Mother.”
Leofric nodded, expelling a held breath.
“Good thinking. Now come. We must ride to her side and show our support.”
Ælfgar eyed his father.
“We’re showing her support for riding naked through the streets of Coventry in complaint of you enforcing the taxes the king demands. Is that not counterproductive?”
Leofric shook his head vigorously.
“We can debate all that when there’s more time. Come, we need to rush.”
Without pausing, Leofric grasped the cloak the servant threw to him, and spurred his horse out of the stables, through the gate, and onto the road to Coventry.
While Leofric rode, unheeding of those he passed along the way and their knowing glances, he thought of his wife, and a small grin formed on his tight lips.
Good God, the woman was a trial, and yet he admired her all the same.
Life was never dull with Lady Godgifu at his side.
What his father would have thought of her current endeavour forced the smile to slip a little, only to reappear, even wider. What would his sister make of this when she heard of it?
The foot traffic on the road grew thicker the closer they rode to Coventry, the wall and buildings quickly coming into view before them. Everyone jumped aside on recognising the earl, and his son, rushing forwards. There were a few grumbles of complaint, but nothing else.
Leofric called his apologies, but it seemed that word of his wife’s actions had quickly spread. No one hampered his progress, and Leofric was unsurprised to ride through the gates without impediment.
The gate guards knew him well, and they’d certainly know what was happening in their own settlement.
“Which way?” Leofric thought to call, and three arms raised and directed him down the main street.
“My thanks,” he replied, curbing his horse now that they were in a more built-up area, and turning to ensure his son and nephew did the same. It was market day, and the streets were thronged, and also urgent, even though it was nearly the afternoon.
For all that, once more, he found his way opening before him.
In front, he glanced up and grimaced.
Coventry was a larger settlement, and it had several roads crisscrossing it. At the junction of two of these, he first recognised the horse of his wife, the animal’s odd coloured hooves walking serenely over the paved surface, and then his wife, on the its back
.
Leofric startled, and then relaxed his shoulders.
His wife had carried out her threat, but she’d done it in such a way that while she was undoubtedly naked, her lengthy hair cloaked her, and in front of her road Ælfwine, while behind Leofric glimpsed Otryggr.
“We’ll ride in front and behind her,” he gave the instruction quickly, aware his son and nephew would obey immediately, allowing Orkning to direct the remaining men.
Leofric rode forward, his eyes on his wife. She met his calmly, and without modesty, her eyes blazing, defiance etched into every part of her.
Leofric respected her all over again.
While he smartly turned his horse, to lead in front of her own, Ælfgar and the rest of the men divided themselves so that she was still visible to all, and yet guarded by her husband, son, nephews, Orkning and the remaining household warriors.
The crowd watched in surprised awe as Leofric did nothing to stop his wife’s protest. There was no need for him to do so. He agreed with her, despite all the harsh words that they’d exchanged about the geld in recent weeks.
Leofric rode proudly, aware that some shouted angrily at him. If his presence and acceptance of Lady Godgifu’s protest were not enough to show his harmony with her, then he feared that nothing would ever satisfy the angry men and women.
Only as they neared the remains of the nunnery, burned long ago by Cnut, did Leofric look back and see that his wife had stopped.
Her eyes swept over the remains of the nunnery, the decaying buildings still trying to rise from the ashes of nearly two decades ago.
“Husband, My Lord, Earl Leofric,” Leofric turned to meet her eyes once more as she called to him. They were filled with challenge, yet also respectful. If he’d surprised her, then she wasn’t about to show it.
“Coventry deserves to have a new monastery with holy men and women to absolve the sins of these people, to heal them, and to aid them when they fall foul of the king’s taxes.”
Leofric inclined his head in agreement, while the crowd muttered amongst itself, not uneasily, but rather with delight at what was happening before them. They’d been following the procession, and Leofric appreciated that Lady Godgifu had amassed a vast audience to witness her defiance.
“I agree, My Lady Godgifu. Shall we endow a new monastery? Shall we show our love and support for the people of Coventry?” He knew entirely where Lady Godgifu was angling the conversation and that he was powerless to prevent it. Why, then, should he not agree with her?
“Yes, we’ll endow a new monastery, not from the taxes the king demands, but from our own legacies elsewhere. What King Cnut took from Coventry, we’ll restore.” The murmur of agreement was growing noisier, as those at the front turned to whisper to those behind, and so the wave of grew ever louder.
“And what, My Lord Earl Leofric, of these taxes in the meantime? There’s none here who can afford them, not without going hungry. It’ll take time to build our monastery, what will we do in the meantime?” Lady Godgifu’s voice had grown thick with menace, and behind his wife, Leofric caught sight of Ælfgar. His son looked both horrified at his mother’s nakedness, and also proud. Leofric thought that Ælfgar was no doubt hoping his own wife would prove to be less contrary and outspoken.
“I believe that the taxes demanded by King Harthacnut are too much for this poor settlement, all but destroyed by his father two decades ago. I’ll not enforce the taxes. If I must, I’ll pay them myself.”
Leofric didn’t speak over-loudly, but quirked his eyebrow at Lady Godgifu, as he made his pronouncement. She’d forced him to this, and yet, he found he didn’t much mind, not when he could see the relief on the faces of men and women who already had too little.
The harvest the previous year had been poor for everyone, even for the nobility of England. Harthacnut had complained of England’s dearth and yet demanded more from every English person.
Harthacnut was a cruel king, but his naked wife had made her protest eloquently. News of her protest would reach the king’s ears,
He wouldn’t enforce the King’s Writ. He’d do all he could to ease the burden on the people of Mercia, and if it beggared him, then the king would only have himself to blame.
Later that evening, back in the hall at Coventry, Leofric raised his wine goblet toward his wife. They were having something of an impromptu feast with so many of their family in one place.
“I didn’t believe that you would truly do it,” Leofric confirmed, while Ælfwine, Otryggr and Ælfgar rolled their eyes. The four younger men had spent much of the evening toasting the birth of Ælfgar’s new child, and they’d clearly had a little too much. Orkning, on the other hand, occasionally laughed and then supped lightly from his wine.
“I told you that I would,” Lady Godgifu was clothed once more, and her hair neatly braided, although the determination remained etched onto her face.
“You did,” Leofric confirmed with a smile on his lips.
“You would do well to remember that I always do what I say.”
“Yes you do,” Leofric agreed, smiling in memory.
“And we will do what you said, won’t we?”
“I gave my word, and you should know that a member of the House of Leofwine never breaks their pledge.”
“Oh, I know that My Lord, but all the same, I appreciate the reassurance.”
“I suggest you immediately start a survey to see where the funds can come from. We have many properties. Those that weren’t damaged in the great storm might be the first place to look.”
“But they’ll all have endured the drought and famine?”
“Yes, but they will have had reserves from the year before, and already, the early harvests have been made. They’ll be recovering more quickly. But really, I think we should be asking our son how our new grandchild is?”
Leofric wasn’t truly that keen to hear, but he was eager to distract his wife. She was altogether too pleased with herself.
Ælfwine nudged Ælfgar as he heard the words. Ælfgar’s head nestled on his folded arms on the table.
“What?” they all laughed at his confusion.
“You came to tell me of my granddaughter.”
“Yes, yes, I did. She’s beautiful, like her mother,” Ælfgar’s voice had softened and his gaze was far away.
“And does she have a name?”
“Of course, she’s called Ealdgyth.”
“A pretty name,” Leofric smiled, thinking it would please his sister, if not his wife.
“And what do your sons make of her?”
“Burgheard thinks she’s too noisy and says he’d rather have a puppy than a sister,” they all laughed at the youngster’s complaints.
“I’d sooner have had a puppy than a brother,” Ælfwine raised his goblet to toast his cousin’s son. “He’s a wise child, that one.”
“I shall come and visit,” Lady Godgifu announced, “as soon as the problems in Coventry are solved. I’d like to see my granddaughter. There are so few women in this family. It’s all boys and hounds, and weapons,” she rolled her eyes as she spoke, but it was an old complaint. The majority of them ignored her, instead drinking and thinking up more ridiculous toasts. But Leofric gazed at his wife, understanding on his face.
She would have liked a daughter. She’d have loved many more children than just Ælfgar.
“Then you’d better get the matter solved quickly, dear wife. And I must leave you to do so for I have an appointment with the king in a week, and I imagine it’ll be even more interesting now.” He raised his wine once more, toasting her, and she finally laughed and relaxed her tense face.
Leofric allowed himself to rest in the comfortable surroundings of his home and his family. It was a pleasant change from the tension of the court.
Chapter 16
AD1041
Leofric
“My Lord King,” it had taken Leofric too long to coerce the king into meeting him alone at Winchester.
“Lord Leofric,”
there was no welcome in the words, but Leofric was far from surprised. Their relationship had been teetering long before the events of Coventry had reached the king’s ears.
“First you cause me problems, and now your wife does the same.”
“My wife acts to protect her people. I don’t think she should be castigated.”
“But I’m the king, and I’ve ruled that the geld should be paid, and throughout my kingdom, every man and woman pay their geld. Apart from in Mercia. The Mercians think that everything is open to negotiation, and it is not. That is the work of the witan.”
Leofric took in his king. Harthacnut looked far from well. Rumours had reached his ears that the king had been taken ill the day before and that he’d not long since risen from his bed. Leofric detected the tension in his forehead, the tightness around his eyes. Whatever ailed his king, it was not pleasant. Leofric would have wished to speak to the king on another day, but it had already taken so long, he wasn’t prepared to reschedule their appointment.
“As welcome as it is to hear you say setting the geld is the work of the witan, as the king, it is in your power to lower it. To ensure the people recover from the terrible harvest of last year and have enough to feed themselves through the coming winter.”
“It’s not my responsibility to ensure people have full bellies.”
Leofric cocked his head to one side, unsurprised by the response.
“The king has a responsibility to every man, woman and child in England. You took oaths, and you vowed to uphold those oaths when you were crowned as king. Need I remind you of the words? The sword you were given was to enable you to help widows, orphans and to restore those things that were left desolate. A drought and a famine meet my definition of desolation.”
“But, I don’t come to argue with you about Coventry. My wife will resolve the problems there. I’ve given her permission to do whatever it takes. If you have no funds with which to repay me for the money that you have borrowed against the expectation of receiving the geld, then I release you from the undertaking. See, you’ve lost nothing at all.”