[Reviews - 660]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2751 times

- Text Size +




Author's Chapter Notes:
my special thanks to fyreburned IBE Nicka, thundercat, gdo,Dusty and midnight girl, Mrs p and cordykitten, and Ariadne who took the time to review.

I am told the pace of this story is too slow for some people, well life was slower then. Fighting for your people isn't always done with knife and sword, sometimes it is with grind stone and loom, just making sure those who owe you alligence are fed and watered. I am trying to show the real life, not hollywood history that has three battles and a romance inside 90 minutes.

Hope you all enjoy the next chapter
William undid his cloak and threw it over his saddle in front of him, carefully fastening the beautiful silver ring pin that Ingimund had given him. He wouldn’t want to lose that. The tablet braid attached was worth a fortune in itself.

It was heading for high summer: he had spent three weeks with Ingimund and was finally headed back to Shrewsbury. The weather had delayed their departure for a week and William had been watching the summer storm with wary eyes, desperate to get back to his own court and his mother. The years he’d spent away from her still left a dim place in his soul, especially considering the treatment the lady had received at the hands of his brothers.

William thought back to the time he had spent with Ingimund. He had never worked so hard; digging a field seemed like an easy day compared to the amount of effort it had taken to get Ingimund to talk about the treaty. But an accord had finally been reached and he was taking the results back to his own Lord and Lady. Results he hoped they would be pleased with. He, himself, was delighted. It had gone better than he could have ever imagined.

William let his thoughts wander and they turned northward without any direction from him. Last spring he had been with his beloved Buffy: it was over a year since he’d seen her, held her, worshipped her. He sent a quiet prayer to anyone that was listening that she was safe and well. He had thought it strange that no-one would answer his questions about her, beyond telling him that Buffy was well and back on her own lands and managing her own hall. It was not their place to gossip about a Lady. If he wanted answers, Connor was the only person that could tell him, and Connor was travelling south to the Franks - or so he had been told. “Collecting” wine and dried vine fruits before selling them in Jorvik, they had said. That mighty city would have its equal on the west coast soon enough.

Athelred and Althelflaed would be delighted with the range of goods that would be coming through the market soon. An Accord had been reached! Now all William had to do was get home and hope that his Lord and Lady were happy with the results of his endeavours.

Giles was chatting to Eirik, who had accompanied them to the bounds of Ingimund’s land. The two men had struck up quite a friendship over the weeks they had been forced together, and had even gone hunting together. They were both educated and travelled men; Giles had been to Rome and Eirik had travelled as far as Constantinople. William listened to them talking as they rode, but his thoughts were flying home to Mercia and the Court in Shrewsbury. He really hoped that he had done what was wanted of him.

Chester gave them shelter for one night. Brother Gregory wasn’t there, but they had been made welcome anyway: then it was home. A fast gallop through dried-up roads making the journey quicker than it had been on the way out, they covered the full 40 miles in one day, with no hawks to worry about or dogs to keep up with them. The walls and torches of Shrewsbury were a welcome sight to them all. Godwin ensured that the horses and men were taken care of before escorting William and Giles into the presence of the King and his hearth troop.

William looked around for his mother: she wasn’t anywhere to be seen in the hall, but he could feel eyes on him. His brothers were there, sending daggers from their stares as he made his way to the King’s side; their looks were cold and hard. Athelred had little love for Harold or Liam: Liam’s treachery had not been forgotten. But the King was being wary, and canny. Edmund hidden away in Wessex had long been an enemy of the Danes and Athered didn’t want that aggression to spill over into his lands. Liam and Harold were here as spies, for all that this court was raising Edmund’s own son. They were here to see what Athelred was going to do about the Northman on his doorstep, and Liam and Harold were known as troublemakers wherever they went. Athelred was glad, however, that Godwin and his men were back. Their sword arms may be needed.



Giles really felt like turning round and heading back to the hall they had left just a couple of days before. The atmosphere had certainly been warmer and more welcoming. Giles watched as Harold and Liam of Wessex continued to drink from the jug on their table, talking privately. They hadn’t even stood when the King had risen, and they were smirking. The King looked pale and shaky; his lady seemed worried, his health had not been good for a couple of years and obviously he was weak again. Things had changed in the few weeks they had been away. And whatever it was, Liam and Harold were behind it: Giles was quite sure about that.

Godwin entered the hall carrying the gifts that Ingimund had sent to Mercia. He could sense the unease and made his way quickly to his Lord’s seat, well as quickly as he could, struggling with the box that had been left in his safekeeping. It was large and iron bound, secured with a lock that needed a key. Setting the box down he knelt beside William and Giles and waited for permission to talk, but it didn’t happen.

‘We have heard through your brothers and through Lady Underwood that you have made a private and secret treaty with Ingimund to take away the city of Chester from our grasp and give it to the Northmen,’ Athelred stated. He wanted to let William know as quickly as possible that Wessex men were stirring trouble again.

William could not comprehend what the Noble Lord was talking about. He had carried out his orders: Giles carried the accord in his hand, it only required Mercia’s agreement before it became a treaty and now he was being accused of treason?

‘I don’t understand. I have been carrying out your command, my lord.’ William said, stuttering as he did. This could mean his life. ‘These false and base tales are not true. I have only done what you wanted.’

Giles held forth the parchment. Athelflaed took it from him and started to read. Liam and Harold had stopped talking and were watching carefully, they hadn’t expected Giles to have gone with William. Their mother’s priest was not a man who was easily bribed.

They had paid Cecily and her father a lot of money to bear false witness. They would see their younger brother hang yet for the shame he had put on them. They hated him that much. But the King would not be happy when he found out about that little twist. Liam tried thinking but the ale he had supped was blurring his mind. How had William got back? They had sent men to ensure he never left Wirhael. Harold was angry, his plans foiled again.

‘This vellum is interesting: we will read it quietly and in private.’ Athelred made his way unsteadily back to the royal chamber. Athelflead, signalling both Giles and William to follow, gave her arm to her Lord and they led the way into their private room. Godwin picked up the chest and trotted after the little party wishing he had help to carry such a large and heavy box.

As soon as they entered the private room, Athelflaed started laughing. She poured wine for each of the men, including Godwin and said, ‘sit, sit, sit,’ indicating the benches set around the brazier.

The charcoal was giving out a great deal of heat, chasing the cool night air from the room.
William was shaking, but not from cold. What could have happened in the time he had been away to turn the court so much against him? He had seen his brothers but what could they have said that had upset the King so much?


‘We’re sorry about your welcome, but Liam and Harold have been stirring trouble in the land since they arrived, and we haven’t been able to prove anything yet. We were setting you up to be the butt for their plots, but didn’t have time to let you know.’ Athelflaed smiled at William. ‘We trusted your honour enough that you would ask questions before losing your temper, and I’m pleased to see we were right.’

Athelred lifted up his wine and took a large draft. The cool liquid slipped down his throat and eased the soreness for a few minutes.

‘Now lad, tell me all about your adventures.’

William and the King talked long into the night. All that had been agreed with the Northmen was discussed. The accord would become a treaty.

There would be an enclave just outside Chester city wall, with a church at its centre, that would be under Norse law. The Norsemen would have the Wirhael for their own, holding a great beach market at Meols twice a year: their own laws would take precedent in that land. The toughest part to sell to Ingimund had been the fact that any merchants trading in Chester had to be Christian or at least Prime-Signed. Ingimund hadn’t taken kindly to that idea at first, but Eirik, one of his advisors, had explained to Ingimund that some priests paid you to become Christian. The six times he had done it he’d received enough linen for a new shirt each time. The Norseman liked that idea. He would take the White Christ’s bribe. It wouldn’t, couldn’t, change what was in his heart.

William and Giles had given up trying to explain that you were only supposed to be baptised once. They would leave that to Brother Gregory and his priory. A great High Road, that was to be protected by law, was planned through the forest above the marsh levels and leading to the market place at Meols. Any travellers on it would be under the protection of both Chester and Wirhael.

Best of all for Athelred was the fact that this market would become one of the main landing points for the boats on their journeys north and south, all fully laden with the best the world had to offer. As a token of respect, and to reciprocate the gifts sent to him Ingimund had sent silk and spices, just a taste of what was to come. He had also promised wines from the Francs for the agreement ceremony. But he wanted to meet Athelflaed and Athelred face to face and with a peace between them, to see if they could work together as was hoped.

William was dismissed to his sleeping place, with the grateful thanks of the Lord and lady of Mercia, but Brother Giles remained behind. He had a private message to deliver to his King

‘Ingiund had agreed everything that William has told you, but he wants something more to seal this bargain. It is too important a treaty to reply on a piece of parchment, he says. He wants something that ties the two courts together permanently.’

‘And what would that be? And why didn’t he relay that message with William?’

‘He gave me his reasons but wanted me to tell you the price first.’

‘Very well then, what does the North Lord want?’

‘A marriage: he wants William.’





You must login (register) to review.