TREASONS, STRATAGEMS AND SPOILS Page 11

  ‘You’re squeezing us to death, father,’ Uuffa complained.

  I set them down, realising for the first time how truly precious they were to me. Hilda and I had hoped for another baby, and we had certainly tried hard enough, but so far there was no sign of her getting pregnant again.

  We returned to Alnwic after my father had promised to visit us later in the year. In the event it was sooner than we had expected. The Witan had been summoned to meet at Ripon in April to hear the outcome of our negotiations with Offa of Mercia.

  ~~~

  I entered the church at Ripon Monastery beside my father, wondering what would happen at today’s meeting. We had travelled down together and I realised for the first time that my father was getting old. He was forty six and, though he tried to hide it, he evidently found riding long distances each day very tiring.

  All eighteen ealdormen were present, along with all but one of the senior churchmen. The Abbot of Jarrow was too ill to travel. Hwaetberht, the Abbot of Ripon, took the chair as our host and called us to order. The chatter slowly died away and Archbishop Egbert got to his feet to explain the outcome of our negotiations with Offa.

  Before he was finished there was uproar in the church and no amount of shouting by Hwaetberh could restore order. He looked at the king for help but Eadbehrt just sat there stony faced. When we had reported back to him he had merely nodded and muttered that was what he’d expected Offa to say.

  Eventually the tumult died down but the Ealdorman of Luncæstershire remained on his feet.

  ‘This is an outrage, Cyning. You cannot seriously consider giving away two thirds of my shire? Quite apart from the dishonour and loss of revenue, it would leave the rest of my shire and the whole of Elmet at Offa’s mercy.’

  ‘What do you suggest then? Another war with Mercia?’

  Once again everyone began to talk at once. This was getting us nowhere. As the king was obviously not going to do anything, I walked up to the table behind which the ineffectual Hwaetberh sat and, drawing my dagger – the only weapon we were permitted to bring into a meeting of the Witan – I thumped the pommel on the table until order had been restored.

  ‘With your permission, abbot, this is getting us nowhere. We need to discuss this calmly and rationally. Now, let Abbot Hwaetberh decide who speaks. Unless he calls upon you to do so, I suggest you remain silent. Archbishop, I think you had the floor.’

  ‘Thank you Seofon,’ he said, turning to address the Witan. ‘The hereræswa and I both think that Offa is testing our resolve. If we give way to his demands he will know that we are weak. Besides he is engaged in a struggle with Essex and Kent, both of which he wants to add to his domain, and he still has problems with Wessex and the Welsh. It will be a long time, if ever, before he can worry about Northumbria.’

  That statement was greeted warmly but then the king spoke.

  ‘I disagree. That is not what we decided, brother. Mercia is getting stronger all the time and everything I’ve heard about him convinces me that Offa would be a formidable foe. He is offering us a fifty yearlong peace; we should accept his offer.’

  This statement was greeted by a stunned silence initially. Pandemonium threatened to break out again but Beorhtmund of Dùn Barra leaped to his feet and gestured for quiet.

  ‘You may disagree, Eadbehrt, but no-one else in the Witan supports you. You led us into the disastrous invasion of Mercia. Had we stopped at the border we could have demanded compensation from Offa for his uncle’s actions. By pursuing the Mercians, against our advice, you gave Offa a legitimate complaint against us. I say you are no longer fit to be our king.’

  Everyone was stunned; everyone except Æthelwold Moll that is. Obviously the Ealdorman of Berwic had colluded with his neighbour to the north to challenge Eadbehrt.

  ‘I second Beorhtmund’s proposal to force Eadbehrt to abdicate. No-one who is prepared to cede part of Northumbria to a potential foe is fit to lead us.’

  Gradually several of the other ealdormen got to their feet to support the motion. Then Bishop Cynewulf of Lindisfarne added his voice to those calling for the king to resign. It was hardly surprising, given the fact that Eadbehrt had once imprisoned him and had dragged Otta out of sanctuary on Lindisfarne to kill him. The archbishop glared at him but Cynewulf ignored him.

  Ecgbert got to his feet and fixed everyone with his eyes before he spoke.

  ‘How dare you challenge the king? He is your anointed and consecrated ruler, blessed by Almighty God to lead you. You commit sacrilege as well as treason to challenge his authority.’

  ‘You are biased, Ecgbert. He is your brother.’ This time it was the Bishop of Hexham who spoke. ‘I seldom agree with Cynewulf but he is correct. Eadbehrt is no longer fit to be king.’

  Hwaetberh looked perplexed, not knowing what to do at this unexpected turn of events, so I leaned over and whispered in his ear.

  ‘Harrumph, well; it seems that a motion had been put to the Witan, proposed by Beorhtmund and seconded by Æthelwold Moll, that King Eadbehrt be um, er....’

  ‘Forced to abdicate and become a monk,’ I whispered.

  ‘Invited to abdicate and become a monk, perhaps at his brother’s monastery? Yes, well, all those in favour stand, those against remain seated.’

  Only Ecgbert and the Bishop of Whithorn in Cumbrian controlled Galloway stayed sitting.

  Eadbehrt got up to stalk out of the church muttering that he would see them all damned in hell before he would abdicate, but I indicated to the sentries on the door to keep it closed.

  ‘You don’t leave here until you have signed the deed of abdication and sworn on holy relics not to seek the throne again,’ I told him. ‘You will also be tonsured and take the vows of a monk.’

  He stood there fuming for some time but then his shoulders slumped and he nodded.

  ‘Very well, but on one condition. My son, Oswulf, succeeds me.’

  I had a very low opinion of his son. He was weak and loved flattery. His gesith was composed of cronies and hangers-on who were, in the main, dissolute young men. They were useless as warriors and their only conquests were in bed. I caught Æthelwold Moll looking at me. He came over and whispered in my ear.

  ‘Agree. I’ll make sure he isn’t king for very long.’

  ‘What? Oh, I see,’ I said, realising that he meant he would dispose of Oswulf, and quickly before he could do any damage. ‘Who do you have in mind to succeed him?’

  ‘Have you forgotten that my father, Osred, was of the House of Æthelfrith?’

  Chapter Six – Regicide

  758 – 759 AD

  Life at Alnwic returned to normal after the meeting of the Witan. Oswulf had dithered over what response to send to Offa of Mercia and in the end no reply was sent. I thought it was significant that Offa didn’t send anyone to enquire further about the proposed peace treaty, but no doubt he was occupied with events in Essex. Its king, Swaefred, had died and there had been a struggle for the succession. Offa had sided with Sigeric, son of a previous king, and in return Sigeric recognised Offa as his overlord. Essex had now become a vassal of Mercia, so Offa’s power was growing - not a comfortable thought.

  Hilda and I got used to each other again, not that there had been friction after I returned, but we weren’t as easy in each other’s company as we had been; we’d both changed. Gradually we relaxed into our old loving relationship though. We joked and poked fun at each other and we could cuddle and kiss without always having to have sex, though we did a lot of that too. It was an idyllic existence, especially as my brother Renweard lived in a hut in the compound and took on some of the routine tasks that are an ealdorman’s lot. I enjoyed his company too, of course, and we often hunted together.

  He hadn’t married and showed no inclination to do so. This puzzled me, of course, but it was his business, not mine.

  Summer changed into autumn and the harvest was gathered in by the beginning of October. I had taken to riding up to Bebbanburg with my sons to visit my father once a mon
th.

  Renweard didn’t always accompany us. Not only did he have his duties as shire-reeve but Eadbehrt’s edict about the size of nobles’ warbands had lapsed, in practice if not in statute. He was therefore busy raising and training more warriors. I had decided to dispense with a separate gesith and intended to replace it by a mounted force of fifty men with another thirty spearmen and archers to garrison my new fortress on the banks of the River Aln. Some of the mounted contingent could act as my escort when necessary, but their main duty was to patrol the coast, with warriors from Bebbanburg, and to escort Renweard and his clerks when they collected taxes.

  In late October the weather was beginning to deteriorate. As we rode north it began to rain and the wind picked up. By the time the fortress on its crag hove into view the rain was coming at us horizontally off the sea and we were all soaked. I sent the four mounted warriors who had accompanied us to get dry whilst stable boys took care of our horses.

  The boys and I made for my father’s hall, together with our two servants – my body servant, Seward, and a Welsh boy I had bought as a slave to serve my sons.

  He was eleven and had been captured by the Mercians during a raid across the River Severn by the troublesome Welsh. He’d been sold in Caerlleon and bought by an agent of the Ealdorman of Luncæstershire. He’d sent the boy to me as a gift in return for my support at the Witan. It was a small price for him to pay in return for saving the greater part of his shire, but he didn’t have to do it, so it was appreciated.

  The boy was called Bleddyn and had been the son of someone in the raiding party, a leader of some sort – perhaps a minor chieftain. He’d been knocked out when the raiders had been defeated and that had saved his life. When he woke up he found himself a captive whereas everyone else in the raiding party was dead.

  When he’d arrived escorted by two warriors he’d been filthy, dressed in rags and spat at everyone. He’d been made to walk behind the escort’s horses and his feet were raw and bloody. Instead of beating him, I ordered him bathed and had his feet treated. A certain amount of force was needed for the former and he was told that he wouldn’t be fed until he behaved. He spoke no English but he understood that. After he was clean he was given new clothes but shoes would have to wait until his feet healed.

  Food was taken to the hut where he was kept and, if he spat or tried to kick his jailer, the meal was taken away again. After four days he got the message and grudgingly accepted the food without any bad behaviour. He was taken down to the river every so often and encouraged to wash. His clothes were laundered regularly and he began to learn a few words of English. He seemed grateful but I didn’t trust him yet.

  After a month he was introduced to my sons and I explained to him that he was to be their servant. If he behaved he would be treated well, but if he didn’t he would be imprisoned in the hut again. He was never to hit either of my sons, nor were they allowed to beat him. If they did they would be punished. If he did he would be whipped.

  From then on he conducted himself properly and even began to smile and play with the boys. I came to the conclusion that my patience with Bleddyn and care of his poor feet had been rewarded. He became a faithful and loyal servant to Octa and Uuffa and they, in turn, looked after him, even sneaking choice pieces of meat from the table during meals for him.

  We walked into the hall to find that my father already had other visitors - Æthelwold Moll and Beorhtmund. After greeting my father I gave Seward my sopping wet cloak and sent the boys off with Bleddyn to get dry and changed whilst I went over to the central hearth to get warm. Soon the wet was steaming out of my clothes and I began to feel more comfortable. Once I had a goblet of mead in my hand I went over to join the others, who were huddled together evidently discussing something important.

  It was unusual for the ealdormen who controlled the whole of the east coast from the Firth of Forth to the River Tyne to gather together in one place but I soon learned what was causing them consternation.

  ‘That fool Oswulf would do anything to avoid war.’ Æthelwold explained once we were alone in my father’s chamber after the evening meal. ‘He’s ceded the land his father won in Strathclyde to King Óengus. Now the Picts control all the land north of the Clyde and the Firth. Only Dalriada in the west stands between Óengus and domination of all of Alba.’

  ‘All except the coastal strip in the south of Galloway that’s part of Cumbria,’ my father added.

  ‘You may be certain that Óengus has his eye on that too.’ Beorhtmund muttered.

  ‘Why on earth did Oswulf give it up without a fight?’ I asked.

  ‘Because Óengus asked him to as an expression of his good intentions. Some rubbish about renewing the treaty he’d agreed with Eadbehrt if he did.’ Æthelwold explained. ‘The question is, what are we going to do about it? The man is spineless.’

  ‘It’s not just that,’ my father added. ‘Two ealdormen died this autumn leaving no adult sons to inherit so Oswulf has given the shires of Catterick and Leyburn to two of his toadies. He is obviously building up a powerbase. The lesson of what happened to his father has hit home.’

  ‘He has to go and go before too long,’ Beorhtmund said. ‘He plans to marry soon, from what I hear, though no bride has yet been mentioned. Once he has a son it will be more difficult.’

  ‘What about his brother, Oswine. Won’t he be the obvious candidate to succeed him?’ I asked.

  ‘He’s even more of a fool than Oswulf. No, we need a proven warrior,’ Beorhtmund said. ‘There is only one man who should be considered: the last direct descendant of Æthelfrith, the first King of Northumbria - Æthelwold.’

  ‘I think we are agreed on that,’ my father said, looking at me. I nodded. ‘How do we achieve our aim though?’

  ‘Oswulf has to die,’ I said, speaking for the first time, ‘but we can’t be implicated.’

  ‘I agree. He would remain a threat if he was allowed to retire to a monastery. Death is final,’ Æthelwold said. ‘With any luck Oswine will then challenge me for the throne and we can dispose of him too.’

  When I went to bed that night I realised that I had just become a member of a conspiracy to commit regicide, and so had my father. I just hoped that we had backed the right side in the coming struggle for power.

  ~~~

  The next morning I caught Bleddyn giving me funny looks and I realised that he wanted to speak to me, presumably in private. I went for a walk along the parapet and stopped to look out over the grey German Ocean. Thankfully the rain had stopped but the wind now came from the north east and chilled my face and hands. I felt invigorated.

  The boy sidled up to me and stood a foot away looking at the restless sea and the spume that the wind whipped from the crests of the waves.

  ‘I’d like to learn to swim,’ he said wistfully.

  It wasn’t what I’d expected him to say and I reflected that perhaps it was time my sons learned too. My grandfather had drowned in a storm and both my father and I had learned to swim after that.

  ‘I’ll arrange for you to learn with Octa and Uuffa when we return to Alnwic, if you like.’

  ‘Would you, lord? Thank you.’

  His English had more of a pronounced Welsh accent when he was excited.

  ‘Perhaps I could do you a favour in return?’

  ‘Favour? What kind of favour?’

  My voice must have conveyed my displeasure that a slave should presume to offer to do his master a good turn. Slaves did what was expected of them. What additional service could he mean?

  ‘You want someone to kill the king,’ he said ‘I have very sharp ears and I heard what you were discussing when I came to put your sons’ clothes to dry in front of the fire.’

  I was dismayed. If the boy had overheard us he would have to die. We couldn’t afford to let word of what we intended leak out. Before I could think further he continued.

  ‘I could do it. I’ve killed before, for my father, so it holds no horrors for me despite my youth.’

/>   ‘You? How?’

  ‘Send me as a present to the king as an expression of your loyalty. I’ll find the right opportunity, but it may take time. I need to be accepted and to be part of the background, then no one will suspect me. Not only do I want to get out of there alive but, as a gift from you everyone would know of your connection to the murder if I was caught.’

  ‘Even if you could manage it, they would know it was you as soon as you disappeared.’

  ‘Ah, but I wouldn’t. I’d wait until a new king was elected. The household would be transferred to King Æthelwold and he would pick who he wanted and who he didn’t. He could send me back to you.’

  ‘You’ve thought this out, haven’t you? I’ll have to discuss it with my fellow ealdormen but what do you want out of it? Your freedom so you can return to Wales?’

  ‘No, there’s nothing there for me now my father is dead. His brother will have taken his place and he’d likely as not kill me as a potential rival. I’d like to stay and serve your sons, we get on well and I enjoy life here, but I want to be free.’

  ‘If the others agree, then you have a deal.’

  ‘I hope they do. I’m not such a fool as to think that you’d let me live if they don’t.’

  ~~~

  It took a great deal of persuasion on my part but eventually they did agree and Bleddyn was sent off to Loidis, this time on a horse, with two men to escort him. Eoforwīc was still being rebuilt but this time Oswulf was building the church and his hall in stone using masons from Frankia and Italy. No expense was being spared and we were paying for it. Oswulf had levied a special tax on all landowners, which hadn’t added to his popularity.

  We heard nothing for a while and then news filtered through about the king’s progress through his kingdom. He had visited the building work at Eoforwīc and expressed himself dissatisfied with the progress of the work before heading for Beverley. I gather that the plan was to visit the monasteries at Whitby, Jarrow and Wearmouth before travelling on to Alnwic, Bebbanburg, Lindisfarne and Berwic. He never got that far.