Saxon town across the River Fleot onto the old city’s walls would draw defenders to Ludd’s Gate, and if a smaller, better-trained force could then attack from the north they might find those walls lightly guarded. Once inside the city that second force could assault Sigefrid’s men from the rear and open Ludd’s Gate to let in the rest of the army. It was, in truth, the obvious way to assault the city, indeed it was so obvious that I was sure Sigefrid would be guarding against it.
Alfred pondered the idea.
?thelred said nothing. He was waiting for his father-in-law’s opinion.
“The river,” Alfred said in a hesitant tone, then shook his head as though his thought was leading nowhere.
“The river, lord?”
“An approach by ship?” Alfred suggested, still hesitant.
I let the idea hang, and it was like dangling a piece of gristle in front of an unschooled puppy.
And the puppy duly pounced. “An assault by ship is frankly a better idea,” ?thelred said confidently. “Four or five ships? Traveling with the current? We can land on the wharves and attack the walls from behind.”
“An attack by land will be hazardous,” Alfred said dubiously, though the question suggested he was supporting his son-in-law’s ideas.
“And probably doomed,” ?thelred contributed confidently. He was not trying to hide his scorn of my plan.
“You considered a shipborne assault?” Alfred asked me.
“I did, lord.”
“It seems a very good idea to me!” ?thelred said firmly.
So now I gave the puppy the whipping it deserved. “There’s a river wall, lord,” I said. “We can land on the wharves, but we still have a wall to cross.” The wall was built just behind the wharves. It was another piece of Roman work, all masonry, brick and studded with circular bastions.
“Ah,” Alfred said.
“But of course, lord, if my cousin wishes to lead an attack on the river wall?”
?thelred was silent.
“The river wall,” Alfred said, “it’s high?”
“High enough, and newly repaired,” I said, “but of course, I defer to your son-in-law’s experience.”
Alfred knew I did no such thing and gave me an irritable look before deciding to slap me down as I had slapped ?thelred. “Father Beocca tells me you took Brother Osferth into your service.”
“I did, lord,” I said.
“It is not what I wish for Brother Osferth,” Alfred said firmly, “so you will send him back.”
“Of course, lord.”
“He is called to serve the church,” Alfred said, suspicious of my ready agreement. He turned and stared out of his small window. “I cannot endure Sigefrid’s presence,” he said. “We need to open the river passage to shipping, and we need to do it soon.” His ink-smeared hands were clasped behind his back and I could see the fingers clenching and unclenching. “I want it done before the first cuckoo sounds. Lord ?thelred will command the forces.”
“Thank you, lord,” ?thelred said and dropped to one knee.
“But you will take Lord Uhtred’s advice,” the king insisted, turning on his son-in-law.
“Of course, lord,” ?thelred agreed untruthfully.
“Lord Uhtred is more experienced in war than you,” the king explained.
“I shall value his assistance, lord,” ?thelred lied very convincingly.
“And I want the city taken before the first cuckoo sounds!” the king reiterated.
Which meant we had perhaps six weeks. “You will summon men now?” I asked Alfred.
“I shall,” he said, “and you will each see to your provisions.”
“And I shall give you Lundene,” ?thelred said enthusiastically. “What good prayers ask, lord, meek faith receives!”
“I don’t want Lundene,” Alfred retorted with some asperity, “it belongs to Mercia, to you,” he gave a slight inclination of his head to ?thelred, “but perhaps you will allow me to appoint a bishop and a city governor?”
“Of course, lord,” ?thelred said.
I was dismissed, leaving father and son-in-law with the sour-faced Asser. I stood in the sunshine outside and thought about how I was to take Lundene, for I knew that I would have to do it, and do it without ?thelred ever suspecting my plans. And it could be done, I thought, but only by stealth and with good fortune. Wyrd bi? ful ar?d.
I went to find Gisela. I crossed the outer courtyard to see a knot of women beside one of the doors. Eanfl?d was among them and I turned to greet her. She had been a whore once, then she had become Leofric’s lover, and now she was a companion to Alfred’s wife. I doubted that ?lswith knew her companion had once been a whore, though perhaps she did and did not care because the bond between the two women was a shared bitterness. ?lswith resented that Wessex would not call the king’s wife a queen, while Eanfl?d knew too much of men to be fond of any one of them. Yet I was fond of her and I veered out of my way to speak with her, but, seeing me coming, she shook her head to warn me away.
I stopped then and saw that Eanfl?d had her arm about a younger woman who sat on a chair with her head bowed. She looked up suddenly and saw me. It was ?thelflaed and her pretty face was wan, drawn, and scared. She had been crying and her eyes were still bright from the tears. She seemed not to recognize me, then she did and offered me a sad reluctant smile. I smiled back, bowed, and walked on.
And thought about Lundene.
PART TWO
THE CITY
FOUR
We had agreed at Wintanceaster that ?thelred would come downriver to Coccham, bringing with him the troops from Alfred’s household guard, his own warriors, and whatever men he could raise from his extensive lands in southern Mercia. Once he arrived we would jointly march on Lundene with the Berrocscire fyrd and my own household troops. Alfred had stressed the need for haste, and ?thelred had promised to be ready in two weeks.
Yet a whole month passed and still ?thelred had not come. The year’s first nestlings were taking wing among trees that were still not in full leaf. The pear blossom was white, and wagtails flitted in and out of their nests under the thatched eaves of our house. I watched a cuckoo staring intently at those nests, planning when to leave her egg among the wagtail’s clutch. The cuckoo had not started calling yet, but it would soon, and that was the time by which Alfred wanted Lundene captured.
I waited. I was bored, as were my household troops, who were ready for war and suffered peace. They numbered just fifty-six warriors. It was a small number, scarcely sufficient to crew a ship, but men cost money and I was hoarding my silver in those days. Five of those men were youngsters who had never faced the ultimate test of battle, which was to stand in the shield wall, and so, as we waited for ?thelred, I put those five men through day after day of hard training. Osferth, Alfred’s bastard, was one of them. “He’s no good,” Finan said to me repeatedly.
“Give him time,” I said just as frequently.
“Give him a Danish blade,” Finan said viciously, “and pray it slits his monkish belly.” He spat. “I thought the king wanted him back in Wintanceaster?”
“He does.”
“So why don’t you send him back? He’s no use to us.”
“Alfred has too many other things on his mind,” I said, ignoring Finan’s question, “and he won’t remember Osferth.” That was not true. Alfred had a most methodical mind, and he would not have forgotten Osferth’s absence from Wintanceaster, nor my disobedience in not sending the youth back to his studies.
“But why not send him back?” Finan insisted.
“Because I liked his uncle,” I said, and that was true. I had loved Leofric and, for his sake, I would be kind to
