The omen of peace that Guthred’s election promised was a false dawn—unsurprising when one considers that strife is man’s natural proclivity. Bere-wic, the barley village, lay on the banks of the great River Tweed at the northern confines of Bernicia and, there, my vain hopes of harmony were shattered.
barley village, A messenger brought news of unrest involving the Christian Anglians of the settlement and the pagan Danish garrison and an appeal for aid. Our ruler, Eadwulf, at once summoned a moot to decide what should be done. The minority of Danes in the Council naturally urged caution regarding their fellow countrymen and, with hindsight, it cannot be considered a demerit that we lost much time in discussion. However, in situations of conflict, time is of the essence and a void fills r
