The Crossed Hilt

Chapter 8

Cumtun, April 1018One of Knut"s lesser-known characteristics is he can move with remarkable stealth for a sturdy man. One day, in the following year, 1018, the door flew open unexpectedly and the King, sword drawn, burst into the hall at Cumtun. His grin widened as I scrambled for a weapon, reacting without time to recognise the intruder.

“Hold, Godwine! Unless you wish to fight your King!”

Hearing the familiar voice, I turned and must have cut a pathetic figure, gaping at him.

“It"s not good enough, my friend, not a dog, goose or donkey to warn of a furtive approach.”

From between clenched teeth issued a piercing whistle, so shrill it hurt my ears and into my home bounded a shaggy-haired hound. “Steady on, Godwine,” cautioned the monarch, “do not draw near it. The creature is battle-trained and will rip out your throat sooner than look at you. What do you think of my gift?”

What was I supposed to think? A gift… to rip my throat out…?

A gift… to rip my throat out…?“Come! Do not look so glum! It"s Irish and cost a princely sum. You will have to give him a name!” He laughed as I cowered while the beast slunk toward me, growling and slobbering.

The creature was endowed with a rare intelligence because, after Knut strode over and embraced me, laughing at my discomfort, it made no further aggressive move. Instead, it gained confidence in its new owner by sniffing around my leggings and wagging its tail.

“There!” Knut chortled. “When you feed him, you"ll have a friend for life.”

“Do you fear for my safety? In that case, I confess to feeling safer before yon beast arrived.”

“A man cannot be too careful.”

His tone and expression alerted me. “Is aught amiss, Sire?”

Maintaining his habit of taking my favoured seat, he sat and sighed.

“Your idea of raising Thorkell to an earldom might have proved unwise.”

“How so?”

“For some months, I"ve suspected he plots to take my throne.”

Denial sprang to my lips but I quelled it, because of the usual fear of contradicting my volatile sovereign. Instead, I mumbled a well-judged query.

“What leads you to this conclusion, my King?”

The hound flopped down beside my chair and laid its enormous head on my crossed feet.

Observing its behaviour, Knut"s expression changed from extreme anxiety to childlike pleasure.

“See, the fellow has quite taken to you, Godwine. Animals know a thing or two and we can learn from them. I knew I could trust you. You should know, the hound is not all I wish to give you. I"m giving you eastern Wessex. You will be its ealdorman. Ealdorman Godwine! It has a ring to it, does it not?”

It certainly did! My dream was coming true, at least in part. Although I aimed higher, I muttered incoherent words of gratitude. But he ignored them and reached inside his tunic to pull forth a roll of parchment, attached to which was a ribbon, from which dangled a seal.

“You can read what you own in Wessex when I leave you. It is signed by me and the other earls, among them, Thorkell. Ah, that"s what we must discuss – Thorkell.”

He continued, “Did you know, Godwine, my brother Harald is unwell? Not long for this world, I reckon. When he dies, Denmark comes to me through birthright. The problem is, there are many who would not see England and Denmark under one crown.”

“Including Thorkell the Tall?”

Knut gazed at me appreciatively. “As ever, you are nothing if not astute, my friend. You will know that the King of Norway and Thorkell were former associates.”

It was well known that Thorkell had taken the young Olaf under his protection and trained him in fighting skills. As a Jómviking chieftain, Thorkell still owned substantial lands in the southern Baltic area. I nodded and considered the circumstances. For Knut to find himself under pressure from Norwegian designs on Danish territory and from Thorkell at home, made for a political nightmare – one that might reveal itself imminently.

The last thing I wanted was to lose my benefactor.

To our mutual amusement, the grim silence in the hall was broken by the hound, which raised its huge head to produce an enormous, curious yawn. We both laughed, only to gain a malevolent glower from the beast whose baleful stare cut short our mirth, restoring clarity to my thoughts.

“Do you have evidence of his plotting, Sire?”

Knut"s wide brow creased in a frown. “Apart from the restlessness among the Danish lords?” He shook his head.

“And yet, that is to be expected if your brother"s health is as poor as you say. They will look out to sea and consider you to be too far away to be a threat to their ambitions in the sorrowful event of Harald"s decease. This does not imply Thorkell"s fomenting of unrest.”

My generous interpretation was countered at once, because Knut had held back his most devastating news.

“Then, why do you suppose Thorkell has moved his fleet of longships to Poole harbour?”

“By God, he has?”

In my agitation, forgetting our shaggy-furred companion at my feet, I leapt up, only to set it off barking in a deep and fearsome manner.

“Look what you"ve done, Godwine – alarmed both your King and… you"ll have to give it a name, you know.”

I began to pace back and forth and the hound, to Knut"s amusement, tracked my every step. Great matters were on my mind.

“I have it!” I cried.

Eagerly the king seized on my words. “What to do with Thorkell?”

“No, the dog"s name.”

“What? Geri?”

“No. Guess!”

“Freni?”

“No. Guess!”

“Fenrir, then?”

“No! How many times must I tell you?”

Knut stared at me uncomprehendingly. All of a sudden, he bellowed a laugh that set the hound barking again.

“By the stars in heaven! You"ve called it Guess! A fine jest!”

Guess!“Now, about Thorkell…” I said, resuming my serious face because, in spite of my tomfoolery, I had been thinking, “… Sire, you must show him who is King in this land. Muster all your longships and their crews and station them off the Isle of Wight. We will see, then, how grave a threat Thorkell the Tall is to your throne. If I am right, he will disband his fleet and hurry to beg forgiveness. In that case, you will slay two wood pigeons with one slingshot.”

“I don"t follow –”

“The longships will be on standby and we will sail to Denmark to assert your authority and quell any rebellion there.”

“Who will look after my interests in England?”

I felt sure he expected me to suggest myself, but I am too astute for that.

“Not I, Sire. I must accompany you to Denmark. The trick is to make Thorkell Regent in your stead.”

“Thorkell? I might as well put my head on a chopping block!”

“Not so, Lord. Think about this… When you install Thorkell as Regent, he will realise you trust and favour him. Above all, he will understand you do not fear him. That will induce the opposite effect in him.”

Knut shook his red-blond mane and scowled at me, unconvinced.

I took a deep breath and considered the worst possibility.

“If he convinces Earls Leofric and Eric and the lesser lords to betray their King, he will still have to face your vengeance when you return from Denmark. The man is no fool. Brave, ambitious, ay, but no simpleton.”

“By God, you are eloquent – a veritable statesman, Ealdorman Godwine. I did well to come here today. It shall be as you say. I leave lighter of heart, lands and hound.”

With that, he was gone, to see his beloved Aelfgifu, whom he would find heavy with child.

I settled, with my hound"s head resting on my knee, to study my new estates in Wessex, knowing that if I survived the dangerous expedition to Denmark, I would be entrenched in his favour. These lands were the beginning of a far bolder venture that was formulating in my imagination.