Aethelward
smiled down at me as though to reassure me but I still thought him
mad. If I could have done so I would have fled from the camp but I
knew that my body would have been plucked from my saddle by many
arrows.
The guard returned and nodded to
my uncle who waited. The flap of the tent opened and there stood
the king. I assumed he was the king because he wore a small
crown but he could have been anyone. His armour was scale
armour and shone like burnished gold. He looked sternly at me and
then at Aethelward and then, suddenly his face burst into a grin
and he embraced my uncle. I was astounded. “Aethelward! What in
God’s name brings you here?”
He gave a small bow and said,”
Your majesty, my nephew and I were at the shrine of Saint Asaph and
we heard you were in the south of the country. My nephew said he
had never met a king. As you are the only king I know I
thought we could journey here on our way south.”
It was then that I knew how
clever my uncle was. He had used the little truth we had in
our story and used it to provide a plausible excuse for our
presence. I followed and bowed my head.
“And your nephew’s name?”
“Aelfraed.”
“Well Aelfraed. Welcome to
my kingdom. Come, the two of you, join me in some wine and then I
can catch up with your life.” He noticed the limp and nodded.
“I can see that it has been eventful, come.”
I was too stunned to even think
about speaking and I sat there as the two men reminisced. It turned
out that my uncle had fought as a mercenary against Earl Leofric of
Mercia for Gruffyd and earned the respect of the king. The men were
of an age and it explained why my uncle had been chosen for this
task.
Later as the evening drew darker
and the alcohol flowed freer the King began to ask questions of
Aethelward that would have worried me had I been the one being
questioned.
“So old friend, what do you do
now?”
“Now? I escort my nephew back
home.”
“Ah and is home the court of
King Edward?”
I suddenly realised that this
was warrior speaking to warrior and Aethelward could not in all
honour lie. “Our home is now in Northumbria at Medelai.”
“Ah. Not the court of Earl
Harold, your friend.”
“I have many friends your
majesty. That is what comes of fighting for so long but as
you can see,” he tapped his leg, “I fight no more.”
The King seemed relieved. He
turned to me, “And Aelfraed, I see that you have trained; would you
be a warrior and stand in the shield wall as your uncle did?”
“I would your majesty.”
“Would you stand in my shield
wall?”
This was a trick question and
had I had more alcohol I might have answered with a lie but I saw
the quick flick of my uncle’s eyes and deflected the
question. “Your majesty would not want an untried youth in
his ranks. When I have trained as a warrior then you can ask
me again.”
“I will, young Saxon, for you
have a look about you which reminds me of your uncle when he was
about your age. He is a famous warrior, the Varangian Guard
who fought against the Mercians and helped this Prince of Wales
gain his kingdom.”
As we drank into the night I
noticed a sulky looking warrior in the corner. As my uncle was
busily pumping the king for information I wandered around the tent
trying to find out who he was. Eventually I discovered that
he was Cynan ap Ap Iago; the son of a king whom Gruffyd had killed
to attain his kingdom. As Iago had been but four when the tragedy
occurred he had been brought up by the king as a young noble of the
court. There was something about him which disturbed me for
he seemed to be staring at my uncle. I took him to be a
little older than I was but he had not filled out his body and
looked, to my eyes, a little weak. Perhaps I had been used to
facing Ridley and that coloured my judgement but I found myself now
weighing up warriors as potential opponents. My one victory
had been so slender that I was determined not to lose the
smiled down at me as though to reassure me but I still thought him
mad. If I could have done so I would have fled from the camp but I
knew that my body would have been plucked from my saddle by many
arrows.
The guard returned and nodded to
my uncle who waited. The flap of the tent opened and there stood
the king. I assumed he was the king because he wore a small
crown but he could have been anyone. His armour was scale
armour and shone like burnished gold. He looked sternly at me and
then at Aethelward and then, suddenly his face burst into a grin
and he embraced my uncle. I was astounded. “Aethelward! What in
God’s name brings you here?”
He gave a small bow and said,”
Your majesty, my nephew and I were at the shrine of Saint Asaph and
we heard you were in the south of the country. My nephew said he
had never met a king. As you are the only king I know I
thought we could journey here on our way south.”
It was then that I knew how
clever my uncle was. He had used the little truth we had in
our story and used it to provide a plausible excuse for our
presence. I followed and bowed my head.
“And your nephew’s name?”
“Aelfraed.”
“Well Aelfraed. Welcome to
my kingdom. Come, the two of you, join me in some wine and then I
can catch up with your life.” He noticed the limp and nodded.
“I can see that it has been eventful, come.”
I was too stunned to even think
about speaking and I sat there as the two men reminisced. It turned
out that my uncle had fought as a mercenary against Earl Leofric of
Mercia for Gruffyd and earned the respect of the king. The men were
of an age and it explained why my uncle had been chosen for this
task.
Later as the evening drew darker
and the alcohol flowed freer the King began to ask questions of
Aethelward that would have worried me had I been the one being
questioned.
“So old friend, what do you do
now?”
“Now? I escort my nephew back
home.”
“Ah and is home the court of
King Edward?”
I suddenly realised that this
was warrior speaking to warrior and Aethelward could not in all
honour lie. “Our home is now in Northumbria at Medelai.”
“Ah. Not the court of Earl
Harold, your friend.”
“I have many friends your
majesty. That is what comes of fighting for so long but as
you can see,” he tapped his leg, “I fight no more.”
The King seemed relieved. He
turned to me, “And Aelfraed, I see that you have trained; would you
be a warrior and stand in the shield wall as your uncle did?”
“I would your majesty.”
“Would you stand in my shield
wall?”
This was a trick question and
had I had more alcohol I might have answered with a lie but I saw
the quick flick of my uncle’s eyes and deflected the
question. “Your majesty would not want an untried youth in
his ranks. When I have trained as a warrior then you can ask
me again.”
“I will, young Saxon, for you
have a look about you which reminds me of your uncle when he was
about your age. He is a famous warrior, the Varangian Guard
who fought against the Mercians and helped this Prince of Wales
gain his kingdom.”
As we drank into the night I
noticed a sulky looking warrior in the corner. As my uncle was
busily pumping the king for information I wandered around the tent
trying to find out who he was. Eventually I discovered that
he was Cynan ap Ap Iago; the son of a king whom Gruffyd had killed
to attain his kingdom. As Iago had been but four when the tragedy
occurred he had been brought up by the king as a young noble of the
court. There was something about him which disturbed me for
he seemed to be staring at my uncle. I took him to be a
little older than I was but he had not filled out his body and
looked, to my eyes, a little weak. Perhaps I had been used to
facing Ridley and that coloured my judgement but I found myself now
weighing up warriors as potential opponents. My one victory
had been so slender that I was determined not to lose the
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