The Crossed Hilt

Chapter 7

Cumtun, Sussex, 1017 ADThe misconception that I had been condemned to a life away from the King lasted less than two months. I soon learnt his forays to Bosham, but three leagues away, under an hour by horse, would become frequent and intense. They would also include consultations with me, his friend and counsellor. I flatter myself that his preference was for an hour with me over the same time with the entire Witan.

On this first visit, he confided in me that he had ordered Uhtred, the Ealdorman of Northumbria, to come to him with a guarantee of safe-conduct; all along, he planned to have him killed.

“You see, Godwine, Uhtred grew too mighty when he wed Aethelred"s daughter. You know, he fought against us at Assandun. After our great victory, he fomented unrest in Northumbria, north of the Tees, whilst to the south of the river, the people remain loyal to me. In other words, a traitor!

Hence, I sent for him to discuss peace terms, but we did not talk. Instead, I had my faithful thegn, Thurbrand, hide behind a curtain spread across the width of the hall. Had you been there, Godwine, how amazed you"d have been! He and his men sprang out in mail shirts to s*******r the Ealdorman and forty of his chief men who entered with him. What better way to start my reign?”

“Men will fear you all the more, for sure, my King, and now you hold Northumbria in your power.” Those were the measured words he wanted to hear. My real feelings, that the King was an oath-breaker, I kept well hidden behind a mask of false earnestness. Knut was not a man to be crossed.

“My visit today is not one of simple courtesy, Lord Godwine, for I find you wise and most cautious in counsel. It is these attributes I seek.”

Flattered, I stared at my sovereign, a man some eight winters my senior. In his countenance, I found no trace of insincerity. The tale of Uhtred"s treacherous murder confirmed what I knew of Knut"s character. On the surface, he appeared loyal and amiable, but woe betide anyone he saw as a threat to his power.

“In what way may I be of service, Sire?” I mumbled.

“I installed my man, Eric of Hlathir, as earl in Northumbria and tasked him with guarding our northern frontier and imposing public order on that unquiet province. Eric of Norway is a true ally, he will pose no danger to my throne. He will be too busy!” he chortled.

“And yet, I see from your expression that you are troubled, Lord.”

In an instant, his face relaxed and he said, with a smile “Will you not offer your friend a drink, Godwine? I yearn for a fine ale.”

My servants, nothing if not solicitous, bore down on us with drinking horns frothing at the brim. Knut is a man of awesome stature and with a thirst to match. Before I had half-emptied my horn, he was smacking his lips and holding his out to be refilled.

Knut threw his sturdy frame into my favourite seat and grinned as he seized the slopping vessel to quaff another long draught of ale. His piercing eyes, the light green-blue of bullfinch eggs, studied my face. At last, he wiped his bushy whiskers with his sleeve and spoke.

I dragged a chair closer to him and waved away the servants so he might talk at ease.

“You serve a fine beer, my friend.” His brow creased. “Much better than the horse-piss Aelfgifu keeps in her cellar. Can you give her the name of your brewer?”

“Is it this counsel you seek, King Knut?”

For a moment, crossed, his eyes flashed dangerously, then he roared with mirth.

“I like you, Godwine! I have too few loyal friends… those I can really trust.”

like“What, then, assails you, Sire?” I felt it wiser not to protest his affirmation because Knut hated contradiction.

“Assail? Ay, that"s the word. I said you were wise. Look, Godwine, I presume I cannot continue my reign by slaughtering everyone who is a threat to the throne?”

Assail“True. How a monarch is seen by his subjects is even more important than who he is, in truth.”

Knut"s deep, thunderous laugh echoed from the roof rafters.

“By Christ"s wounds, Godwine, you are a wise one!”

To be honest, I was growing uneasy at having so much wisdom attributed to me. I have a natural intelligence – or rather, acuteness of thought allied to cunning and quick wits. But wisdom…?

I hoped not to disappoint him. Impatient to understand his unease, I assumed he would tell me in his own time, so I elected to drink more ale. My horn was still half-full whereas his second was empty. His unabashed belch followed the resonance of his laugh and testified to the speed of his drinking.

“Another?”

I clapped for a servant, who trailed my gaze to the drained vessel and hurried off to tend to a refill, without my uttering a word.

“Your servants are well-schooled, Godwine. Admirable! Admirable!”

I waited but admitted to curiosity. What did he want of me?

The King insisted on proposing a toast to his wife. I refrained from asking which one, presuming he meant Aelfgifu, and nine months later had confirmation, with the birth of Sweyn, that it was she he referred to. Not that I had any doubt. His love for her was as evident as was Emma"s hatred for the poor woman. The arrival of a male child would make matters worse in that respect, but the event was still in the future. As it happened, it was not women the King wished to discuss.

“What shall I do with Thorkell?”

He blurted his problem, spitting the name. The King owed a debt to Thorkell the Tall, the fearsome leader of the Jómsborg Viking mercenaries. It was thanks to his support against Aethelred and Edmund Ironside, that Knut held his throne.

There are few men I would not relish facing in battle but Thorkell is one such. His stature and strength are those of a giant, as his name suggests and his fearlessness renders him a nightmare to oppose in deadly hand-play. Feeder of blood-geese, creator of corpse-piles, there can be no mightier warrior under the hall of the high mountains – I mean under the sky; when I think of Thorkell, I think in the heroic language of the sagas. Thorkell was such a hero and worthy of a scop"s song.

Surely, King Knut did not wish to make an enemy of the Viking chief? I hoped not.

“I see it is your turn to wear a troubled visage, my friend.”

“I was thinking it would be an error to make of Thorkell an enemy, Sire.”

“Indeed, that is my worry, Godwine. From his manner and bearing, it is clear he does not see me as anything but his equal.”

I fought the shaking of my hand and placed the drinking horn on the table to make it less obvious. Not being able to offer my ruler the sound advice he sought, beset me, springing a torrent of thoughts.

As I relaxed, I settled back in my seat. The king, whose eyes had not left my face for a second, smiled.

“I presume you have an answer for me, Godwine. Let us hear it!”

I tried to deepen my voice, aware of being his junior.

“Many a monarch would be glad to have the support of Thorkell.”

“But can I count on him?”

count“The way is unobstructed, Lord. You made it so with Uhtred.”

Knut leapt to his feet, his visage red and contorted with ire, a vein throbbing in the neck.

“Did we not establish I cannot s*******r everyone who challenges my authority? Am I wasting my time with you?”

When his hand dropped to his belt, I feared his wrath might stretch to wielding his seax, but in the face of my calm expression, he sat down and glowered.

“You take ill my meaning, Sire. I refer to the solution, not the means.”

Knut glared at me, mystified. “Speak clearly, Godwine.”

“I mean, Sire, your brilliant solution to Northumbria – gifting it to Eric. You must do the same with the rest of your kingdom. Those you mistrust, endow with power and wealth.”

“Are you mad? So they can sweep me from my throne?”

“But they will not be able to, Sire. You will call for aid upon the others who owe you their position and riches. They will hasten to succour the man to whom they owe everything.”

I scrutinised the King"s countenance as he struggled to come to terms with the idea, so much did it seem back-to-front to him. At last, his brow unwrinkled and, to my relief, he grinned.

“You are wise beyond your years, my friend!”

Whereas two minutes earlier I"d feared his blade, I now feared his bear-like hug as he leapt to his feet. I remained entrenched in my seat.

“Ingenious, Godwine!” He paced the hall. “I will divide England into four great earldoms. Eric already has Northumbria. Let"s see… East Anglia, Wessex and Mercia. The senior earldom is East Anglia and I shall give it to Thorkell. That should placate his ambitions. To make sure he does not overreach himself, I will place Mercia under Eadric, on his borders. That leaves Wessex, which…”

I will be honest and admit I expected him to add, “I give to you, my friend.” But no, he continued, “… I will keep for myself!”

Knut offered me his hand. On taking it, he hauled me up into the ferocious embrace I so dreaded. I thought my spine might snap, but it survived and he bellowed in my ear, half-deafening me, “Godwine, how can I ever thank you enough?”

“Sire, your goodwill is all I crave.”

Liar that I am! But I managed to keep my voice free of deceit.

By giving me the earldom of Wessex, I thought.

By giving me the earldom of Wessex,But those words remained unspoken, proving to myself, at least, that wisdom is, after all, one of my attributes.