After a hot dinner and a night’s exhausted sleep, I had begun to feel more like myself, although my mind was still very confused over the horrific happenings of the day before. Instead of clarifying, the memories had become even more blurred. The only thing which stood out plainly, was the terrible death of Osric, probably the bravest man I had ever met.
The welcome that Sim gave me, when we finally crawled into the accommodation huts, was very strange, he could smell the blood and backed away. But after a bath and a change into some borrowed clothing, he would hardly leave me alone. He spent that night with his head firmly across my leg. He’d not let me go so easily next time.
One of the good ladies of the outpost Fort had somehow, overnight, managed to perform an amazing cleaning job on my only suit of clothes, even the short leather tunic was clean, although it was permanently stained. It felt good to put them on again, the more so because the memories seemed to have been laundered as well.
I had eaten a small breakfast, and was sat gazing at the forest and sky beyond the fort’s palisade, my mind trying to grapple with the events of the day before.
Of one thing I was certain. A good warrior I would not make, nor did I want it. My problems were how to get this across to Edmund and my family, and how to reconcile my own thoughts, with those guilty feelings of cowardliness in the light of our obvious need for outright war to rid the country of these Viking intruders.
I knew, without a doubt, that I was not fainthearted, but I lacked that, purely reflexive, compulsive killing instinct of the warrior. Even when the mad rage of the wildness had its fiercest grip, I found myself hesitating in making the final conclusive thrust. Weighing-up in my mind whether it was completely necessary or if my opponent were sufficiently wounded to be out of the race. The sight, the previous day, of our horsemen riding down upon fleeing men who had either thrown down or lost their weapons I found sickening, both at the time and even more so now, in retrospect.
I had not been able to join in wholeheartedly with the men’s victory celebrations the previous night and had left early, shortly after the Royal party. Everyone assumed that my quietness was due to being tired.
It was going to be a difficult matter to explain that I would never be madly keen on pursuing the exuberant life of the man-at-arms. Before I made any kind of announcement I had better come up with a feasible alternative that I could argue into acceptance.
‘Ranulf!.... Ranulf! Where the hell are you.’ Edmund’s grumpy voice betrayed a sore head and the rough tiredness behind it.
Silently, I stood up and made my way to the hut entrance where Edmund was trying to disentangle himself from the entwining arms of a mead soaked female admirer. He spotted me with some relief, but his temper rose again when he saw that I smiled at his predicament.
‘Will you let me be woman!’ he firmly pushed the unsteady young woman aside. ‘What are you grinning at?’ he snapped, and focused his tired, bloodshot eyes on my face.
He had obviously been up celebrating most of the night. I felt somewhat smug in that, although I really didn’t like the strong wines, I had retired early and not joined in with the revelry. It occurred to me that, if the Viking horde were to attack us now, it would easily avenge the slaughter of the previous day and go further, to completely overrun the Fort.
Edmund shook himself like a wet hunting hound. ‘We’ve been summoned to the court.’ he said, and despite his temper, he smiled. ‘It seems that you are something of a celebrity, from your performance yesterday. Already the minstrels, poets and gleemen have sung songs in your honour. But you missed them, of course.” he added, with the suggestion of a sneer.
‘I’m pleased to say that I did. I’d have been too embarrassed anyway.’ I shrugged, then added. ‘Besides I’ve done nothing.’
‘Done nothing says you.’ his eyes gazed towards the bright sky. ‘The ballad would have it that you, single handedly, caught a whole parcel of traitors, sunk a Viking warship and defended the dying Osric. Slaying his killer with one stroke.’ Edmund grinned. ‘There were other deeds as well, but I think they were from too far into the imagination.’
He grabbed my arm for support as he stumbled, and we strode off towards the large main hall.
This was not the light that I’d hoped to be seen under. But maybe, as it had happened, I could turn it to my advantage by expressing the desire to now become a scholar. Having proved my warrior capability. It would probably be fairly simple to slip into the role of an ecclesiastical scholarship, but I didn’t want all the paraphernalia and trappings of the religious life. The many different countries, their peoples and their languages that were around us, that’s what held my interest and imagination.
It was a pity that the small Viking ship had sunk, we had no warships of our own, and it could have been put to good use, if only as a training ship. One day I thought, I shall have a ship. A craft big enough to take me to all the known shores. And maybe beyond, to perhaps discover one or two new ones.
We passed the scene of the previous night’s revelries and, stepping over several snoring bodies, entered the main hall. A tall screen had been set up at the far end of the building to separate those wishing to petition the King from those in the inner court. My nervousness increased as we approached the screen with its guarded and curtained doorway. All around us there was the bubble of chatter and polite laughter. There was a fluttering of lace trimmed rose-scented kerchiefs and the glitter of the morning light on jewels as big as eggs. Everything was so very far removed from the filth and horrors of yesterday’s battle. It was like another land, another world.
‘Where have they all come from.’ I asked Edmund quietly.
‘They’ve been arriving since sun-up.’ Edmund was blatantly not amused by the circus. ‘Some of `em chase the King and his court around all over the country in the hope of being presented or of asking for a decision on some paltry affair or scheme.’
I noticed that there were many sidelong glances at the two of us as we made our way to the front of the unofficial queue. The closer we got the more hostile the looks seemed to be.
The curtain twitched to one side and a bent old man came through looking urgently from side-to-side as he firmly pushed away the clamouring hopeful’s with a patient shaking of his head. His white bushy eyebrows arched as his gaze found our hesitant approach.
‘At last. The King doesn’t like to be kept waiting too long.’ he said stiffly. His hair was receding and its whiteness sharply contrasted with the nut brown of his face as it was swept back and tied into a neat queue by a leather thong. The well combed beard was deeply forked in the fashion of the older men and his finely tailored and embroidered linen tunic with its fur trimmed court cloak set him aside as a gentleman of some considerable substance.
‘My name is Devlac, and the King himself has nominated me to be your sponsor.’ he said as he fussily straightened my hair and clothing. ‘Most irregular. Don’t know what it’s all coming to.’ he muttered, complaining to no one in particular.
‘What do I have to do?’ asked Edmund.
‘I’ve no idea.’ answered Devlac. ‘Perhaps you should take a bath and get into some clean clothes.’ he suggested with obvious distaste.
‘You mean I shan’t be coming with you.’ Edmund said dully.
‘My orders are to present Ranulf ap Odda as soon as is possible to the King, who is most anxious to meet him. Nothing was said about his servant.’
Without another word Edmund, his shoulders drooping, turned and walked slowly away, back through the thronging hopefuls towards the open door and bright sunlight. As much as I wanted this interview, I would rather have been going with him right at that moment.
Perhaps, as things were to turn out, it might have been better if I had.
‘Come on young man, you’ll have to do as you are. Goodness knows what the King will think.’ he said, lifting the curtain aside and leading me through by the elbow. ‘Just do as I do and call him Your Majesty or Sire.’ he added.
I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t what was now before me. There was no gold or silver, not even the glitter of a crystal goblet. There were several groups of older men, most of whom were dressed in fine clothes not unlike Devlac. They all seemed to be in deep, sometimes heated, discussion and barely acknowledged the appearance of my sponsor, although I felt that I received several curious glances.
A long table had been spread with a selection of cold meats, fruit and small pots of preserves and most of it appeared to be untouched. Compared to the main portion of the Hall, the air here was clean and perfumed with a fresh scattering of meadsweet flowers, mixed with the floor covering of new reeds.
Devlac steered me away from the main conclave, which I took to be the King ’s Counsel, towards a young-looking man that was seated at a small desk with his back towards us.
Could this be our illustrious King I thought, he’s not much older than me. His hair was the same colour as mine, and he wore it in the same style, parted at the centre and trimmed to the neck. He was dressed in the usual long tunic and trousers and about his waist was a thin yellow sash from which hung a tasselled leather pouch. Apart from his finer clothing, we could almost have been brothers.
It seemed to me that the young man ignored us, but as we got closer I could see that he was absorbed in the pages of a large book and in a growing pile of notes.
Devlac coughed quietly, and the young man reluctantly turned from his studies.
‘Good morning Your Majesty, we apologise for intruding, but I have the honour to present Ranulf son of Odda.’ intoned Devlac with the air of a priest, as he bowed deeply.
Awkwardly I tried to follow suit, but my stiff shoulders found it difficult to emulate his practised, courtly grace.
‘G-Good morning Your Majesty.’ I managed to stammer, noticing a friendly smile.
‘And a good morning to both of you.’ the face smiled but the eyes seemed to soak up the very detail of my soul. ‘I thank you for coming along, I’ll be with you in a moment. Perhaps our Devlac will show you the breakfast table. I understand that the local cheese is delicious.’
And he turned back to his papers, goose quill scratching its progress across the parchment. I felt quite deflated and very clumsy. I followed Devlac back to the long table where he piled chunks of bread and slices of rich yellow cheese onto a thin wooden platter.
‘Take a seat on the bench.’ Devlac gestured to a high backed seat against the wall. ‘I’ve no idea how long he will be.’ he handed me the plate. ‘You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to, but it’s expected that you take it.’
I sat on the edge of the seat with the plate balanced on my knee. Next to me were three other expectant visitors, each seemed as nervous as I did.
I nibbled at the food as I waited. Maybe this was all a mistake, what could I hope to say to a man of Royal blood who had travelled the world and met so many famous people. I had many ambitions, but in my eyes, had still accomplished nothing.
One by one, each of my fellow visitors was called for and given the answer or decision on which they waited. It seemed that the book and the loose sheets on which Alfred wrote were some form of court journal. For in each case, the appropriate sponsor read aloud the details of the request and the answer from one of the pages.
I watched as the King laid down his pen and stood up from his desk, easing his back as he turned to look around the room. A kind of relief washed over me as I thought that perhaps he had forgotten me. But he hadn’t.
His gaze turned upon me like a shaft of warm sunlight. He was the sort of man whose presence could be felt, even if unseen, he had entered a crowded room. As I had seen my predecessors do, I stood and stiffly bowed my head, waiting to be called.
For an age, it seemed, nothing happened. The room had become instantly silent and even the gentle, babbling hubbub from the other side of the screens seemed to be subdued. I risked a look from under a strained eyebrow.
He was coming toward me. The King himself was coming towards me. In his hand was a crowded sheet from his journal. I strained my eyebrows farther to be sure that no one else was standing nearby. There wasn’t.
‘Sorry to have kept you waiting Ranulf. There are things to be discussed, but first of all, I gather that you have something to tell me.’ his voice was curiously gentle but commanding.
Surprisingly, I felt very much at ease and would probably have prattled along for ages about Sim, his training and his capabilities. All the while the King listened and watched my face with an interested expression.
‘Very good.’ he commented, halting my enthusiastic ramblings. ‘I have seen something similar in the country of Italy. They use small dogs to find traces of sheep trapped by the winter snows.’ After a moment’s thought he asked. ‘What of the fight on the beach. I gather it went well?’
In as few words as I could, I described the events in that small cove, ending with the news that we had captured all of the British traitors but, although they had not got away, we hadn’t captured any of the Norsemen, or their small warship.
‘But what of the prisoners? I am minded that we should hang them immediately.’ The King raised an eyebrow.
‘I agree sir. But there are two of them that speak the Viking tongue, if they could be relied on, it would perhaps be useful if they could teach the language to some of us. We could then use our knowledge to interrogate prisoners and maybe spy on the enemy movements more effectively.’
‘I understand that one of the scoundrels is known to you?’ he asked quietly. ‘Would he be one of the linguists.’
‘Yes Sir.’ I nodded. ‘Deaks. He is, I mean was, one of the scullions in your kitchens at Athelney and a favourite of the Bish.... I mean the Abbot.’
Alfred frowned and stared long at the group of silent Councillors before he continued.
‘How is it then, that I should not imagine that you were in league with the gang as well. Don’t you agree that the whole exercise was carried out smoothly. Perhaps too smoothly.’ his voice rose to become threatening. ‘Perhaps you had inside information sir. Perhaps you should be locked up as well and join them in their dance with a rope.’
My mind was in a whirl of disbelief and shock. How could this man, for whom I would willingly die, consider me to be a traitor? Anger rose above my feelings of subordination and drove my mind to concentrate.
‘Sire, with the greatest respect. If that were the case, I would not be before you now, but many leagues away.’ I replied hesitantly then, more strongly. ‘Also, had I been hand-in-glove with these disgusting traitors, I would have been sure to run my blade through the throat of any that could have spoken against me.’
Trembling with a mixture of fear and anger, I awaited my fate.
‘Did I not tell you, gentlemen.’ he said coldly and turned on his heel to cast a scowling glare over his attentive counsel. ‘Next time you will not insist on overruling me.’ he shouted and turned back to me. ‘I had no doubts as to where your loyalties lay, but it would appear that some petty jealousies poison our advice.’
‘Thank you sir.’ was all that I could manage. My heart was beating so loudly I feared it would burst through my chest and a sweat prickled coldly over my body.
‘To be frank, I’d not expected to be confronted by someone so young.’ resumed the King in his friendly tone. ‘I suppose you’ve heard the songs the gleemen have made in your honour?’
‘Ah...No Sir, I retired early last night.’
‘In that case I will have Bendal, my minstrel and music teacher, sing them for you later.’ he smiled at my radiant, obvious embarrassment. ‘Good idea about the prisoners. I will think on the best way to accomplish it.’
We talked on about many things, my father, the position with the Viking invaders and their crippling Danegeld demands and my personal hopes for the future. I was pleased that my aspirations as a scholar were well received and, to a large extent, concurred with his own, but on a much lower, less ambitious, level.
A coughed interruption by one of the grey councillors meant that we had to temporarily break off our encounter.
‘We’ll get together again this afternoon, perhaps you could go and fetch your Edmund. I’ve decided that what I have to say will involve him.’ he moved away, towards the group of hand wringing, worried old gentlemen. ‘Come straight back now.’ he smiled.
When I found him, Edmund was cuddled up to Sim and snoring well enough to shake the thatch off of the roof. As the dog caught sight of me, he struggled to release himself from the restraining embrace while his tail thumped against the dusty floor. The stir of dust must have reached deep into the sleeping nostrils, for Edmund sat bolt upright as a sneeze exploded from his throat. He clutched at his blanket and grumpily pushed the big dog away from him.
‘Damn thing.’ he muttered. ‘How did it go then?’
He sounded almost off-handed I thought. Obviously still sulking about the “servant” comment dealt him by Devlac. I noticed that he had washed and combed his hair.
‘Very well, my old friend.’ I answered. ‘Very well indeed.’
‘If I see that miserable old faggot again I’ll give him what for. Servant indeed!’ he was clearly, still very prickly.
‘He made a dreadful mistake it seems, the King has sent me away to take you back with me. We may have to wait a while though.’
I quickly described the events of the morning as he dressed himself and drank a flask of water. Before too long, Edmund deemed himself presentable and we began the walk back to the main hall. As we passed by, many of the camp’s folk and army followers stopped in mid-task to stare and whisper amongst themselves. A small group of Edmund’s red shirts, that were cleaning horse tack, gave a ragged cheer as we walked past. I could see that Edmund enjoyed the notoriety as much as I did, but he silenced the group of soldiers with a withering scowl. Undeterred, they grinned back and chattered happily to each other.
Once back in the Main Hall we strode again through the antechamber, groups of people stopped talking and turned to look at us while couples or patiently waiting solitary people moved aside to give us passage.
‘They all appear to have some knowledge that we do not.’ whispered Edmund from behind a grubby kerchief. ‘We’re either to be executed or feted.’
My heart thumped with nervousness and an embarrassed enjoyment. All around, people wore smiles and muttered friendly greetings as we passed. We arrived at the screen and the guard, instead of challenging, saluted and held the curtain aside for our entry.
The scene on the other side was similar to when I’d left, except that the table had been moved and the grey councillors were now stood in rows before the King who was sat on a raised chair and wore a golden circlet about his wavy hair. He sat in quiet, but earnest conversation with Devlac, who stood poker straight before him. The old man nodded solemnly, bowed his head and stepped away, back into his place amongst his peers.
King Alfred looked up and his tired face was lit by a smile of friendship as he spotted us waiting. A senior steward came toward us, his tunic was embroidered with gold braid which glinted softly in the dim light and his ceremonial spurs and sword harness jingled in the sudden hush.
‘Ranulf, son of Odda and Edmund you are asked to reaffirm your sworn loyalty to our Sovereign King of Britain.’
The steward ceremoniously led the way to the King where we knelt and swore our allegiance on the bible and placed our swords on the ground, pommel facing the Royal throne.
‘Rise my friends. Both of you, stand up.’ ordered Alfred smiling once more. ‘It was my intention, after your proven valour and skill at arms during the battle yesterday, to proclaim Ranulf ap Odda as my new Aelderman to fill the sad loss of our dear Osric. However, due to your youngness in years and your scholarly attributes, I believe that I will be best served by your becoming a researcher and academic in the arts of strategy and, despite some close advice, to investigate the possibilities of our use of ships as a means of war.’ he scowled at a corner of the room to silence an outburst of protest.
I could not believe my ears. At that instant I pledged, in my heart, an unswerving loyalty. Taking a deep breath I forced my excitement under control.
‘I should be most honoured Your Majesty. Thank you.’ I said and bowed my head.
Alfred nodded, pleased with the effect of his offer. Then he turned his head towards Edmund.
‘Edmund, you have proved your courage and skill many times, often in the teeth of almost overwhelming adversaries. I will give you the guardianship of this post of Aelderman in perpetuity. You will run this Fort, our most important border outpost. Also, I will transfer the training of my army to this place which is henceforth granted the status of a Burgh.’
Edmund was speechless, completely dumb-struck. I was about to nudge him when he drew a shuddering breath and drew himself up to his full height, before bowing.
‘I shall be very honoured Your Majesty. Your most humble servant, Sire.’ he said in a loud voice.
Alfred stood and turned to the court steward. ‘Let it be known steward. My order takes effect immediately.’ he turned back to us. ‘Now, a grand dinner in your honour. Then we must be off, back to Athelney where I can get you, Ranulf, started with some scholarly gentlemen who are travelling all the way from Rome, the holiest of cities, and are expected to arrive tomorrow morning. I’m afraid we ride tonight.’ Alfred turned to a still startled Edmund. ‘Edmund, your first duty will be to provide the ceremony, befitting a great and good warrior, for the burial of Osric. I suggest that we place the burial site on the wooded hilltop before the gates, where, as soon as possible, we will construct a church in his memory.