The Crossed Hilt

Chapter 4

Cumtun, Sussex, 1009 ADI"m the first to admit I have not lived an exemplary life. In all honesty, I"ve acted my entire existence out of self-interest, which is the price paid for leadership. I have a natural ability in that respect, born of my impressive personality and physical courage. Would it not have been a wasted life, had I not taken action and decisions to seize personal advantage from the portentous circumstances surrounding me? This is my story and I will not gild it like the Norman witch, who paid a lickspittle to write her Encomium Emmae Reginae: a paean to Queen Emma – dross!

Encomium Emmae ReginaeMore than any other, and at an impressionable age, one event shaped my character. I will not hide behind it since it explains what drove me to become the most powerful man in England.

The year was 1009 and I had but eight winters behind me. My childhood had been carefree and privileged as the first son of Wulfnoth, a mighty and well-connected thegn with estates at Cumtun, upon the greensward of the rolling hills of Sussex. My fondest infant memories are of the farmstead with the animals I helped feed, rear and s*******r.

But in the summer, it might have been late-August, while Father was away at sea, men bearing the crest of the Aetheling Aethelstan overran our lands. Those men seized Mother and me and turned us out on the road. They accused my father of high treason and the commander of the Aetheling"s force labelled us “Wulfnoth"s w***e and whelp” and added, “who had to suffer.” What could I do? A boy of eight against a troop of warriors? Seething with shame and resentment, imagining what I would have done had I been a grown man, I trudged behind Mother as we made our way to seek more friendly faces in the town of Winchester, where my beloved Downs find their western end.

There, Father"s cousin related his understanding of the events leading to our expulsion. My father was one of the commanders of the fleet of three hundred and ten longships stationed off Sandwich to protect the country from Viking raiders. I now know what my cousin did not at the time. It was an age of intrigue, when the cunning, sly counsellor, Eadric Streona, was a prominent man at Court. This villain took it upon himself to destroy those whom he presumed stood in the way of his advancement.

His brother, Beortric, another leader of the fleet, was no better and I believe he trumped up charges against my father, incensing him to mutiny, causing him to take with him twenty longships. The accusations were unjust but my parent ought not to have turned to piracy, raiding along the south coast, wreaking every kind of harm. When a member of this family becomes vexed…

Beortric chased after my father with eighty ships, vowing to bring him to account. But his vessels foundered in a violent storm, typical of the Channel, to be cast ashore – so much for Beortric"s seamanship – only to be burnt by my father, who meted out his own justice. Hearing of this misfortune, King Aethelred fled to London, leaving the reduced fleet in confusion in Sandwich. The crews decided to row down the Thames to London. Hence, there was no deterrent against the Danes, who duly invaded Kent at harvest time and ravished Canterbury. That is why Father was outlawed and our lands confiscated.

“Cousin Leof,” I squeaked, “when I"m a man, I"ll wrest back our estates and more besides.”

I think his bemused laughter did as much to harden my resolve as the events themselves. I owe a great debt to Leof, a wealthy merchant, trading in iron tools, leatherware and textiles out of Bosham in exchange for goods from the continent. He was also a wise and patient man. My restless, fiery spirit must have taxed this virtue. But not only did he accede to my request for lessons in swordsmanship, he also found me a veteran Irish campaigner who boasted, "No Viking ever bested me".

No Viking ever bested meCousin Leof gifted me my first sword, forged in Frankia. My copper-haired tutor, thickening at the midriff, was no longer nimble on his feet – just as well, given I was but a boy of eight. What he lacked in physical attributes, he compensated with a natural bent for tutoring. Ronain, the name he went by, had the gift of eloquence. He made me laugh and never fanned my always smouldering and ready temper into flames. For this reason, I admired and learnt from his quick wits. I ascribe my prowess with arms to his unbridled disrespect for orthodox fighting. He taught me the advantages of surprise and cunning and his motto, "All"s fair in battle", has ever been my byword.

"All"s fair in battle",A profound affection grew between the two of us. Ronain was determined I should develop into a warrior ahead of time. For my part, I resented his slave-driving methods, involving my running with two logs under my arms while he looked on, quaffing ale in the doorway of a nearby tavern. Woe betide me if I took advantage of any distraction – it always ended up with double the workload: turning cartwheels and other exercises, often to his advantage, such as making me chop logs or saw lengths of timber for his hearth. I admit it all served to develop muscles and add inches to my height.

The most important lesson I learnt from Ronain was one he would not have suspected. Given my quick temper and his soothing quick wits and ready laughter, I curbed my temper and channelled it into ready ripostes – Irish-style. This would stand me in good stead for the rest of my life.

Occasional news of Father reached Winchester; snippets, rather than anything satisfying. I did not see him for four years because, outlawed, he had joined the Danes in a place called Gainsborough, where the laws of King Aethelred could not penetrate.

The Danelaw welcomed the invading army of King Sweyn Forkbeard, bent on revenge for the m******e of his fellow Danes, notably in Oxford, instigated by the cowardly Aethelred. Should anyone blame me for wishing to become one of this wretched monarch"s enemies? I felt ready, being on the threshold of manhood, to test my newfound battle skills. In 1013, therefore, I joined my father and King Sweyn to help his quest to remove the kingdom from its inept, characterless ruler. My journey was a risky undertaking in those lawless days, especially for a raw youth, but I reached my destination on one of uncle"s horses, where a joyful reunion with my father took place that changed the course of my life.