‘And Bebbanburg is a fortress for all time,’ Domnall said.
‘And the Scottish Christians?’ I asked. ‘How long will they endure paganism?’
‘King Owain,’ Dyfnwal spoke again, ‘respects the beliefs of the Norse in our country.’
That explained the hammer hanging next to the cross. ‘He respects their beliefs,’ I retorted sharply, ‘for as long as he needs their swords.’
‘I don’t dispute that,’ Domnall said. He glanced at my son who was sitting to my right. ‘Yet I see your son is a Christian?’ he asked gently. I nodded. ‘Then in time, Lord Uhtred,’ he continued, ‘and may it be a very long time, Bebbanburg will belong to a Christian.’
I grunted at that, but said nothing. Was I tempted? Yes. But what Constantine had proposed was so bold, so drastic, that I had no response. Domnall seemed to understand that dilemma. ‘We don’t ask an answer now, Lord Uhtred,’ he said, ‘just that you think on these things. And give us an answer in three weeks.’
‘Three weeks?’
‘At Burgham,’ he said.
‘Burgham?’ I asked, puzzled.
‘You have not been summoned?’ He sounded surprised.
‘Where’s Burgham?’ I asked.
‘A place in Cumbria,’ Domnall said. ‘King Æthelstan has summoned us all,’ he spoke sourly, but almost spat his next words, ‘for a Witan of all Britain.’
‘I know nothing about it,’ I said, wondering why Oda had not told me. ‘And you’ll be there?’
‘We are summoned,’ Domnall still spoke sourly, ‘and when our master summons us, we must obey.’ Meaning, I thought, that Æthelstan wanted to overawe the Scots with his army, and so persuade them to abandon any claims on Northumbria. And why, I wondered, would the Scots attend the meeting? Because Æthelstan was the strongest king in Britain and because behind the summons to talk was the threat of war, and it was a war Constantine did not yet want.
And Domnall had hinted that Æthelstan wanted more than just Northumbria, he wanted Bebbanburg too.
So once again my fortress was threatened, and this time I had no allies.
So I would go to Burgham.
Three
Did Constantine really expect me to agree to his proposal? To swear loyalty to him and so deliver Bebbanburg and its wide lands to Scotland? He knew me too well to expect my agreement, but that was not what Domnall had been sent to secure. He had been sent to warn me that Æthelstan wanted Bebbanburg too. And that I did believe, because folk in Wessex had sent me word of what happened in Æthelstan’s court and I did not like it. The great hall in Wintanceaster now had gilded beams, the throne had been lined with scarlet cloth, the king’s bodyguard wore scarlet cloaks and had silver embellished helmets. Æthelstan would dazzle us with his magnificence, and about him were young, ambitious men who wanted land and silver and magnificence of their own.
And the King of all Britain summoned me to Burgham.
The summons was brought by a priest who was accompanied by forty horsemen whose shields displayed the dragon of Wessex with a lightning bolt grasped in one talon. ‘The king sends you greetings, lord,’ the priest said, then dismounted awkwardly and went on one knee to hand me a scroll that was tied with a red ribbon and sealed with the same dragon and lightning bolt pressed into the wax. It was Æthelstan’s seal.
I was surly because Domnall had persuaded me to mistrust Æthelstan. I had permitted only a half dozen of the West Saxon horsemen to come through the Skull Gate and then denied them permission to go further than the stable yard where I reluctantly gave them weak ale and demanded that they leave my land before sunset. ‘And you with them,’ I told the priest, a young man with wispy hair, weak eyes, and a running nose.
‘We’re weary from travelling, lord,’ the priest appealed to me.
‘Then the sooner you’re home the better,’ I snarled, then tore the ribbon from the scrolled message.
‘If you need help reading it, lord …’ the priest began, then caught my eye and mumbled incoherently.
‘Before sunset,’ I insisted and walked away.
It was discourteous of me, but I was angry. ‘They think I’m too old!’ I complained to Benedetta after he left.
‘Too old for what?’
‘There was a time,’ I said, ignoring her question, ‘when I was useful to Æthelstan. He needed me! Now he thinks I don’t matter, I’m too old to help him. I’m like the king in tæfl!’
‘Tæfl?’ she asked, stumbling over the unfamiliar word.
‘You know. The game where you move pieces on a board. And he thinks I’m trapped because I’m old, that I can’t move.’
‘He is your friend!’
‘He was my friend. Now he wants me gone. He wants Bebbanburg.’
Benedetta shivered. It had been a warm day, but by sunset the sea wind was moaning cold about the hall’s high gables. ‘Then what the Scottish man said? Yes? He will defend you?’
I gave a mirthless laugh. ‘They don’t want me, they want Bebbanburg too.’
‘Then I will defend you,’ she said fiercely. ‘Tonight! We go to the chapel.’
I said nothing. If Benedetta wanted to pray for me then I would go with her, but I doubted her prayers were the equal to the ambition of kings. If my suspicions were correct then Æthelstan wanted Bebbanburg and so did Constantine because a kingdom needs strength. King Alfred had proved that great fortresses, whether burhs like Mameceaster or strongholds like Bebbanburg, were the most effective deterrents to invaders, and so Bebbanburg would either defend Æthelstan’s northern frontier or Constantine’s southern border, and its commander would not be named Uhtred, but would be a man of unquestioned loyalty to whichever king won.
Yet had I not been loyal? I had raised Æthelstan, taught him to fight, and given him his throne. But I was not a Christian, not handsome like Ingilmundr, and not a flatterer like those that rumour now said advised the King of Wessex.
The priest’s message commanded me to meet Æthelstan at Burgham on the Feast of Zephyrinus, whoever he was, and I was to bring
