England.
On the second evening at Ludgate Hill, the conversation finally turned to the pressing issue of the succession to the English throne.
Edward’s health was beginning to decline and he was becoming more and more sullen and cantankerous. Harold did not think he had much more than a few months to live, perhaps less. He had spoken to the King many times on the subject of the succession, but Edward remained steadfast in his view that England needed a new future and that it had to come from Normandy.
Hereward came to the point quickly. ‘My Lord, did you suggest yourself to the King as his successor?’
‘Now is not the time. Edward will talk of only one other candidate besides William: Edgar, the true Atheling, a Saxon of the ancient Cerdic bloodline of the West Saxons, and the grandson of Edward’s half-brother, Edmund Ironside, who was King of England fifty years ago.’
The Cerdician kings could trace their ancestry back many generations through Alfred the Great to Egbert, King of the West Saxons, and, beyond him, to the original Saxon settlers of England, a lineage spanning hundreds of years. Except for the recent rule of the Scandinavians, every King of England had been of Cerdician blood.
‘Unfortunately, Edgar is only a boy of fourteen, and the King doesn’t think he will be strong enough to keep the Scandinavians at bay. He remains convinced that only William can do that.’
Hereward saw an opportunity for a compromise position. ‘But what if you were to be the Atheling’s Regent? With your army behind him, England could repel Hardrada and anyone else, even William.’
‘Sadly, Edward remains preoccupied with moving England closer to Europe. Nominating Edgar to succeed him would, in his mind, move England further away from his ambition for its future.’
‘When we spoke in Normandy, you said that Edward believed that kings should be born, not chosen by the Witan or by popular acclaim. Surely he contradicts himself by avoiding a successor who is of true royal blood?’
‘There are many contradictions in the character of our King. As for the right to rule through blood, if he thought Edgar would support Norman ways and bring more Normans to his realm, he might agree. But Edgar is a Saxon, part of a hidebound tradition the King is determined to break. And remember, Edgar was born in the home of the Magyars, in the land of Hungary. His father sought protection from their king after he had been exiled to Sweden when Cnut the Dane became our king. He had never set foot in England until a few years ago, and there are even doubts about how loyal the Saxon earls would be to him.’
Harold continued his discourse, outlining a story in which he himself played a controversial role. ‘Edgar’s father, Edward, was announced as the Atheling, Edward’s chosen successor, in 1054. Two years later, I was charged with bringing the young Edward from Hungary and escorting him and his family to England. He arrived laden with treasure and to much excitement. Here was the son of Edmund Ironside, grandson of Athelred, great- grandson of the good King Edgar, the perfect Saxon solution to the dilemma of the childless King Edward. Not a warrior by any means, but an astute and honourable young prince. Most importantly for the King’s long-term plan for his realm, he had been raised in the heart of sophisticated Europe, amid the heritage of Charlemagne’s noble tradition, a legacy that the King much admired. Edward was thrilled: his prayers for an heir, whom he could nurture and mould, had been answered.
‘Then, within days of the Prince’s arrival, there was a catastrophe. He fell seriously ill at Rochester and, to this day, no one knows why. He wasn’t even well enough to travel to Winchester to see the King. He couldn’t eat, his bowels emptied like a torrent and he died in just four days. The physicians suspected an assassin had poisoned him.’
‘It could only have been at William the Bastard’s bidding!’ Hereward spat out his instantaneous condemnation, remembering the gleam in the Duke’s eye as he contemplated the prospect of the English throne.
Edith joined the conversation animatedly. ‘Many said it was Harold who had planned it, as he had most to gain, and that I, a wicked temptress, had given the boy a deadly potion.’
Harold remembered the events with evident irritation. ‘Of course, the King knew I wasn’t responsible. Why would I travel all the way to the banks of the Danube to rescue the lad and then have him poisoned in Rochester?’ Harold paused and looked at his companions with a forlorn expression, seemingly tired of the intrigues of emperors, kings and princes. ‘So there you have it. Edgar is now the true Atheling of the Saxon line.’
Torfida, like Hereward, could see the potential for Edgar to succeed in his minority, with Harold as Regent. ‘What is young Edgar like? Could he be King?’
‘He is like any fourteen-year-old boy: a callow youth with not even a hint of fluff on his face. He has lived a soft life at court and was born into a culture very different from our own. When they arrived here, he and his sisters spoke almost no English, although they speak it well now. Anyway, regardless of his merits, the King won’t hear of it. He was stubborn enough before; now he is impossible. I told him that I travelled back to England with you, an Englishman who had been close to William, who could give him a true and accurate account of the Duke’s character and his credentials as the next King of England, but he flew into a rage. He still refuses to see you under any circumstances. We are at an impasse.’
‘Perhaps he would listen to me.’ Torfida was not averse to making bold statements, but this was one of her most audacious. ‘I would not be overawed. I know it is unlikely that the King would listen, but if Earl Harold introduces me, and I have a brief moment with him, there is a small stone I could cast to see if it will make a ripple in the affairs of England.’
Harold and Edith were intrigued, but Hereward realized immediately what Torfida was alluding to.
‘Hereward, give me the Talisman.’
‘But Torfida, your father guessed that Queen Emma may well have offered the Talisman to Edward and he rejected it. On the other hand, she may never even have considered giving it to him. In either case, the King will not recognize its power.’
‘You’re right, Hereward, but we have to go where the Talisman leads us. I feel its power is directing our destiny once again.’
Harold and Edith spoke almost as one. ‘Torfida, you must explain.’
Torfida described how Queen Emma had given the Talisman to Torfida’s father, the Old Man of the Wildwood. She then chronicled its legendary pedigree.
Harold was sceptical, but Edith had heard stories about it as a girl.
‘I thought it was a myth. Your father must have been a very special man for the Queen to entrust him with it.’
Torfida’s vivid account, with Edith’s support, convinced Harold that there was some merit in her suggestion that she should try to meet the King.
‘It is possible I could introduce you. Your credentials as a scholar are impeccable, and the King is an intellectual and a philosopher; he might just warm to you. Hereward, you should go to Glastonbury immediately and join your companions. It is you who sends the King into a rage. He knows about your service with Gruffydd and Macbeth; he never forgets an enemy and never forgives one. As your guarantor, I have assured the King that you will do nothing and go nowhere, except under my strict authority. I will tell him I’ve sent you well away from London to train with my housecarls at Glastonbury; that will placate him a little.
‘As for Torfida, the ideal moment will be shortly after the King’s architect has handed over the key to the great oak door of the new abbey, while his choir sings for him and he is admiring his new creation. I will tell him of your wisdom and knowledge of the great buildings of the ancient world, and that you have come to admire his new work.’
Torfida seemed enthused, but looked to Hereward for reassurance.
He responded uncertainly. ‘I am reluctant to leave you here in London while I sit in Glastonbury with the fate of the throne hanging in the balance. It is a plan worth trying, but how will you switch the conversation from the wonders and intricacies of his abbey to the succession of the throne of England?’
Harold responded to Hereward’s question. ‘That will be my responsibility. I will remind him that Torfida was in the service of the Duke. Then, if he is prepared to listen, you must tell him about the Duke’s wild temper and about the personal beatings and executions.’
Torfida hesitated and took a deep breath. ‘I must trust that he doesn’t realize I never actually met the Duke, and that it is Hereward who witnessed these things.’
Edith nodded at Torfida’s words, and smiled. ‘So, my Lord, you agree.’
‘I do.’
