A Hero's throne

Pens and Pendulums

I

Winchester

April, 891 AD

His fingers running along the page of script and his lips moving in a quiet murmur,?lfred read until he came to the end of the page. Frowning, he sat for a moment in thought, his eyes halfclosed and fingers pulling at his lips.

When he opened his eyes again, he looked frankly at the nervous bishop standing in front of him.

“Your craft in scribing is very accomplished, Werfer?” he said seriously. “I think I have told you this before.”

“Yes, my king,” the bishop replied, bowing.

“But the art with which you form your letters is small when compared to the art in which you form your words and phrases. You have captured the sense of dear Saint Gregory perfectly. Well done, my friend. You have pleased your king and, I truly believe, our God by your labours.”

“Oh, thank you, my king,” Werfer? said, beaming, wringing his hands in obvious relief and delight. “I’m so glad you like it. Translating this work has been such a joy of edification. I read a few of the dialogues out to a parish church back in the diocese, back in Dudley, the parishioners of which have never heard of the divine Gregory, and let me tell you. .”

?lfred indulged the bishop a short while. He liked to see the otherwise harried and anxious churchman in a more relaxed and happy mood.

“But now.”?lfred rose from his wooden throne and waved away a servant who approached to help. “Turning now from Dialogues to Pastoral Care, I wonder if you might care to look over my translation and answer a few questions I have about chapter four. My Latin, I believe, is still not as good as yours.”

“Oh, I doubt that, my king. But of course. Anything, my king,” Werfer? responded, still beaming.

?lfred led him into his private writing room that held a small desk and a functional stool opposite a kneeler and lectern. They discussed Gregory and Latin, and Werfer? studied?lfred’s work until bells were heard in the distance.

“Ah,” remarked?lfred, “that is for nones-I had a heart to attend today. You may stay if you like. Would you excuse me?”

“Hmm?” Werfer? answered, caught up in one of his king’s paragraphs.

?lfred stepped out of the room and started down the hall.

He strode across the courtyard, pressing a hand to his belly. He was feeling his chastisement sharper than usual today. Once again, as he did every day, he considered asking the Lord to remove it and give him another, but he only took a deep breath and set his jaw. This was for his sanctification.

He was muttering under his breath, “Ut nemo moveatur in tribulationibus istis. . ” when he caught sight of a man in a red robe standing near one of the stone doorways.

Frowning, he changed his path and met the man at the edge of the courtyard.

“Ealdstan. What brings you to Wintanceastre?”

“No greeting, my king?”

“You are welcome, of course, but you have only ever appeared when you have need of something I can provide.”

“And you find this a peculiar position for a king to be in?”

?lfred turned his grimace into a grin. “There are few who have the ability-and even fewer the imagination-to extract so much as you.”

Ealdstan turned his face to the ground. “Few have the ability to comprehend the true nature of the world.”

?lfred sighed. “I was just about to go to prayers-will you accompany me?”

“Of course. It would be a joy,” Ealdstan said, although he stood the whole time at the back of the church.

When the short daytime office ended, they emerged and started walking aimlessly along the outer paths of the burh.?lfred said, “I am meeting with my councillors when I return. Would you speak of your desires with them?”

“I would not. I have need of stonemasons.”

“Stonemasons? What do you need stonemasons for now?”

Ealdstan told him.

“How many?”

“A great many. As many as you can muster, for a very long time.”

“How long?”

“You would never see them again.”

?lfred shook his head. “We need to continue to build England’s defenses. Even a modest stone fortress is preferable to the strongest one of wood, especially in the outlier burhs.”

“There is peace with the Vikings, King?lfred. They are cowed from their defeats and submissive since institution of the treaty. They have lands now; they are sated.”

“They never wanted our land, Ealdstan. Gu?rum died this winter; did you know that? God’s truth, I miss him more as a brother than a leader, but more men than I may feel the loss of his kingship in the days to come. While he lived, the Norsemen were pleased to look on the northern settlements as their own and overlook the settlements there. But with him gone. .? I wist we have not long to wait before another war band arrives. Meotodes Meahte,” he said quietly. “Where do they get their energy from? They crash upon us as inexhaustibly as waves on the beach. In the name of heaven, what do they eat up there?”

“This talk is not for now,” Ealdstan said with a flit of his hand. “These are maybe-fights and perhaps-battles. I look forward to the inevitable battle that will decide the outcome of eternity.”

“That battle is already won,”?lfred said.

“But it has yet to be fought!” Ealdstan insisted, banging his staff upon a rock. “We have discussed this at length, and I felt you had been made to understand me.”

“It is a thought I continually turn over in my head and discuss with the Almighty much in my prayers. I’ve received no conviction in the spirit that my present course is incorrect. My bishops support me in this.”

“They support your indecision, is what you say. I care not for the grumblings of bishops and abbots, nor those of a king who trusts more to pens and pendulums than to swords and fire. I was ancient when your father was young. I taught Bede his letters; I watched the boats of the L?denware depart from this island. Of these isles I was the first disciple of the new faith. Do not presume to school me on spiritual matters, young?lfred.”

The colour rose in?lfred’s cheeks. “Watch yourself, wizard. I am not so old that my writing hand has forgotten how to grip a blade. The Lord gave this earth to mortals.”

“Great king,” Ealdstan purred in a low voice, “after so much already done, do you still question? So much persuading and convincing by me, and of all the work that we have already done-of the warriors already laid to rest, and provisions already made-why would you not ensure the protection of these costs and lend me enough stonemasons to hew a stronghold underground, a secret place of safety for the hidden ones, to ensure they are able to return at the right time?”

?lfred rubbed his chin and then crossed his arms. “You may take from the land all whom you can persuade to your cause. But this is the last debt to you that I will honour. Consider yourself paid in full.”

Ealdstan nodded and without any more words between them, he departed, never to be seen by?lfred again.