‘A Saxon family,’ I said. ‘They owned most of the land around here. They sold timber and kept some sheep.’
He grunted. ‘It will do,’ he said, then turned to look again at the valley where the road ran straight towards the distant sea. ‘Egil’s Norsemen will fight?’
‘They’re Norsemen, lord King, of course they’ll fight.’
‘I’ll put you on the right,’ he said, ‘hard against that stream.’ He meant the deeper stream. ‘Your job will be to push their left back, make them think that’s our plan.’
I felt an unworthy relief that I was not being posted on Æthelstan’s left where we expected the assault of Anlaf’s fiercest warriors. ‘We’ll push,’ I said, ‘but not too far.’
‘Not too far,’ he agreed, ‘maybe not far at all. Just hold them still, that will be enough.’ We would have fewer men than the enemy and if we pushed too far forward we would have to thin our ranks to fill the growing space between the streams. ‘There’s something else you can do for me, lord,’ he went on.
‘Tell me, lord King.’
‘We have to win this battle,’ he said, ‘and afterwards we have to occupy Cumbria. We have to hit them hard! They’ve rebelled!’ He meant the Danes and Norse who had settled in that restless region and who had flocked to join Constantine’s army as it marched south.
‘It can be done, lord King,’ I said, ‘but you’ll need a lot of men to do it.’
‘You’ll need a lot more men,’ he corrected me, then paused, still looking down into the valley. ‘Ealdorman Godric left no heir.’ Godric had been the man Æthelstan had appointed as ealdorman of northern Cumbria, and who had died trying to stop Constantine’s advance. He had been young, wealthy and, reports said, brave. He had been overwhelmed by the Scottish attack, his shield wall broken, and he had been cut down trying to rally his men. ‘Some two hundred of his men escaped the battle,’ Æthelstan said, ‘and others are probably still alive, hiding in the hills.’
‘I hope so.’
‘So I want you to take over his land and his men.’
I said nothing for a moment. Godric had been given vast tracts of northern Cumbria, and if I became their owner, then Bebbanburg’s land would stretch from sea to sea across Britain. I would have to garrison Cair Ligualid and a dozen other places. I would become the Saxon shield against the Scots, and that, I thought, was good. Yet for that silent moment I also felt confusion. ‘Not three months ago, lord King, you were trying to take Bebbanburg from me. Now you’re doubling my lands?’
He flinched at that. ‘I need a strong man on the Scottish frontier.’
‘An old man?’
‘Your son will inherit.’
‘He will, lord King.’
I saw a buzzard circle high over the battlefield. It tipped its wings to the small wind, then soared northwards. I touched my hammer, thanking Thor for sending a good omen.
‘There is one problem,’ Æthelstan went on.
‘There always is.’
‘Ealdorman Godric left no heir, so the owner of his land is his widow, Eldrida. I can compensate her for the loss of the land, of course, but silver is short. War consumes it.’
‘It does,’ I answered warily.
‘So marry her.’
I looked at him, aghast. ‘I have a woman!’
‘You’re not married.’
‘As good as, lord King.’
‘Are you married? You’ve gone through some pagan ceremony?’
I hesitated, then told the truth. ‘No, lord King.’
‘Then marry Eldrida.’
I did not know what to say. Eldrida, whoever she was, would plainly be young enough to be my granddaughter. Marry her? ‘I am …’ I began, then found I had nothing to say.
‘I’m not asking you to bed her,’ Æthelstan said irritably, ‘except once, to make it legal, then you just put the girl away somewhere and stay with your Benedetta.’
‘I plan to stay with her,’ I said harshly.
‘It’s a formality,’ he said. ‘Marry the child, take her land and fortune, and defend the north. It’s a gift, Lord Uhtred!’
‘Not for her,’ I said.
‘Who cares? She’s a woman with property, she will do as she’s told.’
‘And if we lose this battle?’ I asked.
‘We won’t,’ he said curtly, ‘we mustn’t. But if we do she’ll be swived by a horde of Scotsmen and Norsemen. So will every other woman in Englaland. Take the gift, lord.’
I nodded, which was as much confirmation as I could give him, then looked back to the valley where, in two days, we would fight.
For Englaland.
Fourteen
Next day Æthelstan moved his army out of Ceaster and onto the heathland between the ridges. We camped either side of the road just short of the narrow bridge that would take us onto the chosen battlefield. There were tents for the ealdormen, but most of us made shelters from branches we chopped from the trees on the eastern ridge. It had taken most of the day for the men on foot to reach the encampment and to cut wood for shelters and fires, and Æthelstan sent orders that the army was to rest, though I doubt many men slept. Wagons brought food and bundles of extra spears. The only men who did not march with us were five hundred West Saxon horsemen who left Ceaster late in the afternoon and camped some way behind the rest of the army. Steapa commanded them. ‘I had a dream last night,’ he told me before we left the city.
‘A good one, I hope.’
‘It was Alfred.’ He paused. ‘I never understood him.’
‘Not many of us did.’
‘He was trying to put on his mail coat and it wouldn’t go over his head.’ He sounded puzzled.
‘That means we’re going to win tomorrow,’ I said confidently.
‘It does?’
‘Because his mail coat wasn’t needed.’ I hoped I was right.
‘I never thought of that!’ Steapa said, reassured. He hesitated. I was about to mount Snawgebland and he took a pace
