That did surprise me. “But Kjartan hates Guthred,” I said.
“But even so Kjartan decided Guthred’s sister would be a suitable bride for his one-eyed son,” Offa said. “I suspect he wants the son to be king in Eoferwic one day, and marrying Guthred’s sister would help that ambition. Whatever, he sent men to Eoferwic and offered Guthred money, peace, and a promise to stop molesting Christians and I think Guthred was half tempted.”
“How could he be?”
“Because a desperate man needs allies. Perhaps, for a day or two, Guthred dreamed of separating Ivarr and Kjartan. He certainly needs money, and Guthred has the fatal mind of a man who always believes the best in other people. His sister isn’t so burdened with charitable ideas, and she would have none of it. She fled to a nunnery.”
“When was this?”
“Last year. Kjartan took her rejection as another insult and has threatened to let his men rape her one by one.”
“She’s still in the nunnery?”
“She was when I left Eoferwic. She’s safe from marriage there, isn’t she? Perhaps she doesn’t like men. Lots of nuns don’t. But I doubt her brother will leave her there for very much longer. She’s too useful as a peace cow.”
“To marry Kjartan’s son?” I asked scornfully.
“That won’t happen,” Offa said. He poured himself more ale. “Father Hrothweard, you know who he is?”
“A nasty man,” I said, remembering how Hrothweard had raised the mob in Eoferwic to murder the Danes.
“Hrothweard is an exceedingly unpleasant creature,” Offa agreed with rare enthusiasm. “He was the one who suggested the church tax on the Danes. He’s also suggested that Guthred’s sister become your uncle’s new wife, and that notion probably does have some appeal to Guthred. ?lfric needs a wife, and if he were willing to send his spearmen south then it would hugely increase Guthred’s strength.”
“It would leave Bebbanburg unprotected,” I said.
“Sixty men can hold Bebbanburg till Judgment Day,” Offa said dismissively. “Guthred needs a larger army, and two hundred men from Bebbanburg would be a Godsend, and certainly worth a sister. Mind you, Ivarr would do anything to stop that marriage. He doesn’t want the Saxons of northern Northumbria uniting with the Christians of Eoferwic. So, lord,” he pushed his bench back as if to suggest that his survey was finished, “Britain is at peace, except for Northumbria, where Guthred is in trouble.”
“No trouble in Mercia?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing unusual.”
“East Anglia?”
He paused. “No trouble there,” he said after the hesitation, but I knew the pause had been deliberate, a bait on a hook, and so I waited. Offa just looked innocently at me and so I sighed, took another coin from my purse and placed it on the table. He rang it to make sure the silver was good. “King ?thelstan,” he said, “Guthrum as was, negotiates with Alfred. Alfred doesn’t think I know, but I do. Together they will divide England.”
“They?” I asked. “Divide England? It’s not theirs to divide!”
“The Danes will be given Northumbria, East Anglia, and the northeastern parts of Mercia. Wessex will gain the southwestern part of Mercia.”
I stared at him. “Alfred won’t agree to that,” I said.
“He will.”
“He wants all England,” I protested.
“He wants Wessex to be safe,” Offa said, spinning the coin on the table.
“So he’ll agree to give up half England?” I asked in disbelief.
Offa smiled. “Think of it this way, lord,” he said. “In Wessex there are no Danes, but where the Danes rule there are many Saxons. If the Danes agree not to attack Alfred then he can feel safe. But how can the Danes ever feel safe? Even if Alfred agrees not to attack them, they still have thousands of Saxons on their land and those Saxons could rise against them at any time, especially if they receive encouragement from Wessex. King ?thelstan will make his treaty with Alfred, but it won’t be worth the parchment it’s scribbled on.”
“You mean Alfred will break the treaty?”
“Not openly, no. But he will encourage Saxon revolt, he will support Christians, he will foment trouble, and all the time he will say his prayers and swear eternal friendship with the enemy. You all think of Alfred as a pious scholar, but his ambition embraces all the land between here and Scotland. You see him praying, I see him dreaming. He will send missionaries to the Danes and you will think that’s all he does, but whenever a Saxon kills a Dane then Alfred will have supplied the blade.”
“No,” I said, “not Alfred. His god won’t let him be treacherous.”
“What do you know of Alfred’s god?” Offa asked scornfully, then closed his eyes. “‘Then the Lord our God delivered the enemy to us,’” he intoned, “‘and we struck him, and his sons, and all his tribe. We took all his cities and utterly destroyed the men, and the women, and the little children.’” He opened his eyes. “Those are the actions of Alfred’s god, Lord Uhtred. You want more from the holy scriptures? “‘The Lord thy God shall deliver all thy enemies to thee and thou shalt smite them and utterly destroy them.’” Offa grimaced. “Alfred believes in God’s promises, and he dreams of a land free of pagans, a land where the enemy is utterly destroyed and where only godly Christians live. If there is one man in the island of Britain to fear, Lord Uhtred, that man is King Alfred.” He stood. “I must make sure those stupid women have fed my dogs.”
I watched him go and I thought he was a clever man who had misunderstood Alfred.
Which was, of course, what Alfred wanted me to think.
SEVEN
The Witan was the royal council, formed by the leading men of the kingdom, and it assembled for the dedication of Alfred’s new church and to celebrate ?thelflaed’s betrothal to my cousin. Ragnar and I had no business in their discussions so we drank in the town’s taverns while they talked. Brida had been allowed to join us and Ragnar was the happier for it. She was an East Anglian Saxon and had once been my lover, but that had been years before when we were both children. Now she was a woman and more Danish than the Danes. She and Ragnar had never formally married, but she was his friend, lover, adviser, and sorceress. He was fair and she was dark, he ate like a boar while she picked at her food, he was raucous and she was quietly wise, but together they were happiness. I spent hours telling her about Gisela, and Brida listened patiently. “You really think she’s waited for you?” she asked me.
“I hope so,” I said and touched Thor’s hammer.
“Poor girl,” Brida said, smiling. “So you’re in love?”
“Yes.”
“Again,” she said.
The three of us were in the Two Cranes on the day before ?thelflaed’s formal betrothal and Father Beocca found us there. His hands were filthy with ink. “You’ve been writing again,” I accused him.
“We are making lists of the shire fyrds,” he explained. “Every man between twelve and sixty has to take an oath to serve the king now. I’m compiling the lists, but we’ve run out of ink.”
“No wonder,” I said, “it’s all on you.”
“They’re mixing a new pot,” he said, ignoring me, “and that will take time, so I thought you’d like to see the new church.”
“I’ve been dreaming of little else,” I said.
He insisted on taking us and the church was, indeed, a thing of utter splendor. It was bigger than any hall I had ever seen. It soared to a great height, its roof held up by massive oak beams that had been carved with saints and kings. The carvings had been painted, while the crowns of the kings and the halos and wings of the saints glinted with gold leaf that Beocca said had been applied by craftsmen brought from Frankia. The floor was stone- flagged, all of it, so that no rushes were needed and dogs were confused where to piss. Alfred had made a rule that no dogs were allowed in the church, but they got in anyway, so he had appointed a warden who was given a whip and charged with driving the animals out of the big nave, but the warden had lost a leg to a Danish war ax at Ethandun and he could only move slowly, so the dogs had no trouble avoiding him. The lower part of the church’s
