would have to find a solution if I was to retake Bebbanburg, a fortress that was more formidable than any burh. ‘I’d go to Wintanceaster,’ I told her, ‘and I’d hurl men at the wall until it fell, and then I’d make ?thelwold king there and demand that West Saxons follow me, and then we’d march on Lundene.’
Yet the Danes did nothing. They argued instead. We heard later that Eohric wanted the army to march on Lundene, while ?thelwold reckoned it should assault Wintanceaster, and Cnut and Sigurd were all for recrossing the Temes to capture Gleawecestre. So Eohric wanted to bring Lundene into his kingdom’s boundaries, ?thelwold wanted what he believed was his birthright, while Cnut and Sigurd simply wanted to extend their lands southwards to the Temes, and their arguments left the great army drifting in indecision, and I imagined Edward’s messengers riding between the burhs, gathering the warriors, bringing together a Saxon army that could destroy the Danish power in Britain for ever.
Then Finan returned with all the messengers I had sent to Wintanceaster. They crossed the Temes well to the west, looping about the Danes, and came to Cracgelad on horses that were sweat-whitened and dust-covered. They brought a letter from the king. A priestly clerk had written it, but Edward had signed it and the letter bore his seal. It greeted me in the name of the Christian god, thanked me effusively for my messages, and then ordered me to leave Cracgelad immediately and to take all the forces under my command to meet the king in Lundene. I read it in disbelief. ‘Did you tell the king we have the Danes trapped on the river?’ I asked Finan.
Finan nodded, ‘I told him, lord, but he wants us in Lundene.’
‘Doesn’t he understand the opportunity?’
‘He’s going to Lundene, lord, and he wants us to join him there,’ Finan said flatly.
‘Why?’ And that was a question no one could answer.
I could do no good on my own. I had men, true, but not nearly enough. I needed two or three thousand warriors to come from the south, and that was not going to happen. Edward, it seemed, was taking his army to Lundene, going by a route that kept him well clear of any Danish outriders. I swore, but I had sworn an oath to obey King Edward and my oath-lord had given me an order.
So we unlocked the trap, let the Danes live and rode to Lundene.
King Edward was already in Lundene and the streets were filled with warriors, every courtyard was being used as a stable, even the old Roman amphitheatre was crammed with horses.
Edward was in the old Mercian royal palace. Lundene was properly in Mercia, though it had been under West Saxon rule ever since I had captured it for Alfred. I found Edward in the big Roman chamber with its pillars, dome, cracked plaster and shattered tile floor. A council was in session, and the king was flanked by Archbishop Plegmund and by Bishop Erkenwald, while facing them, in a semicircle of benches and chairs, sat more churchmen and a dozen ealdormen. The banners of Wessex were propped at the back of the chamber. A lively discussion was under way as I entered, and the voices fell silent as my feet sounded loud on the broken floor. Scraps of tile skittered away. There had been a picture made with the tiles, but it had vanished by now.
‘Lord Uhtred,’ Edward greeted me warmly, though I noted a slight nervousness in his voice.
I knelt to him. ‘Lord King.’
‘Welcome,’ he said, ‘and join us.’
I had not cleaned my mail. There was blood in the gaps between the tight rings and men noticed it. Ealdorman ?thelhelm ordered a chair brought next to him and invited me to sit there. ‘How many men do you bring us, Lord Uhtred?’ Edward asked.
‘Steapa is with me,’ I said, ‘and counting his men we have five hundred and sixty-three.’ I had lost some in the fighting at Cracgelad, and others had fallen behind because of lamed horses as we rode to Lundene.
‘Which makes a total of?’ Edward asked a priest seated at a table to the side of the chamber.
‘Three thousand, four hundred and twenty-three men, lord King.’
He obviously meant household warriors, not the fyrd, and it was a respectable army. ‘And the enemy?’ Edward asked.
‘Four to five thousand men, lord, as best we may judge.’
The stilted conversation was plainly meant for my ears. Archbishop Plegmund, face as sour as a shrivelled crab apple, watched me closely. ‘So you see, Lord Uhtred,’ Edward turned back to me, ‘we did not have enough men to force an encounter on the banks of the Temes.’
‘The men of Mercia would have joined you, lord King,’ I said. ‘Gleawecestre is not so far away.’
‘Sigismund has landed from Ireland,’ Archbishop Plegmund took up the tale, ‘and has occupied Ceaster. The Lord ?thelred needs to watch over him.’
‘From Gleawecestre?’ I asked.
‘From wherever he decides,’ Plegmund said testily.
‘Sigismund,’ I said, ‘is a Norseman who’s been run out of Ireland by the native savages, and he’s hardly a threat to Mercia.’ I had never heard of Sigismund before and had no idea why he had chosen to occupy Ceaster, but it seemed a likely explanation.
‘He has brought crews of pagans,’ Plegmund said, ‘a host!’
‘He is not our business,’ Edward intervened, obviously unhappy at the sharp tone of the last few statements. ‘Our business is to defeat my cousin ?thelwold. Now,’ he looked at me, ‘you will agree our burhs are well defended?’
‘I hope so, lord.’
‘And it is our belief,’ Edward went on, ‘that the enemy will be frustrated by the burhs and so will withdraw soon.’
‘And we shall fight them as they withdraw,’ Plegmund said.
‘So why not fight them south of Cracgelad?’ I asked.
‘Because the men of Cent could not have reached that place in a timely fashion,’ Plegmund said, sounding irritated by my question, ‘and Ealdorman Sigelf has promised us seven hundred warriors. Once they have joined us,’ he went on, ‘we shall be ready to confront the enemy.’
Edward looked at me expectantly, plainly wanting my agreement. ‘It’s surely sensible,’ he finally spoke after I had made no comment, ‘to wait until we have the men of Cent? Their numbers will make our army truly formidable.’
‘I have a suggestion, lord King,’ I said respectfully.
‘All your suggestions are welcome, Lord Uhtred,’ he said.
‘I think that instead of bread and wine the church should serve ale and old cheese,’ I said, ‘and I propose that the sermon should be at the beginning of the service instead of at the end, and I think priests should be naked during the ceremonies, and…’
‘Silence!’ Plegmund shouted.
‘If your priests are going to conduct your wars, lord King,’ I said, ‘then why shouldn’t your warriors run the church?’ There was some nervous laughter at that, but as the council went on it was clear that we were as leaderless as the Danes. The Christians talk about the blind leading the blind, and now the blind were fighting the blind. Alfred would have dominated such a council, but Edward deferred to his advisers, and men like ?thelhelm were cautious. They preferred to wait until Sigelf’s Centish troops had joined us.
‘Why aren’t the men of Cent here now?’ I asked. Cent was close to Lundene and in the time it had taken my men to cross and recross half of Saxon Britain the men of Cent had failed to complete a two-day march.
‘They will be here,’ Edward said, ‘I have Ealdorman Sigelf’s word.’
‘But why has he delayed?’ I insisted.
‘The enemy went to East Anglia in ships,’ Archbishop Plegmund supplied the answer, ‘and we feared they might use those ships to descend on the coast of Cent. Ealdorman Sigelf preferred to wait until he was sure that the threat was not real.’
‘And who commands our army?’ I asked, and that question caused embarrassment.
There was silence for a few heartbeats, then Archbishop Plegmund scowled. ‘Our lord King commands the army, of course,’ he said.
And who commands the king, I wondered, but said nothing. That evening Edward sent for me. It was dark when I joined him. He dismissed his servants so we were alone. ‘Archbishop Plegmund is not in charge,’ he chided me, obviously remembering my final question in the council, ‘but I find his advice is good.’
‘To do nothing, lord King?’
