gives it the strength to kill. Go into battle without anger and hate and you'll be dead. You need all the blades, anger and hate you can muster if we're to survive.'
'But can you do it?' he asked. 'Can you defend us here? Long enough to evade the Danes while we decide what to do?'
'Yes,' I said. I had no idea whether I spoke the truth, indeed I doubted that I did, but I had a warrior's pride so gave a warrior's answer. ?thelflaed had not taken her eyes from me. She was only six, but I swear she understood all that we talked about.
'So I give you charge of that task,' Alfred said. 'Here and now I appoint you as the defender of my family. Do you accept that responsibility?'
I was an arrogant brute. Still am. He was challenging me, of course, and he knew what he was doing even if I did not. I just bridled. 'Of course I accept it,' I said, 'yes.'
'Yes what?' he asked.
I hesitated, but he had flattered me, given me a warrior's responsibility and so I gave him what he wanted and what I had been determined not to give to him. 'Yes, lord,' I said.
He held out his hand. I knew he wanted more now. I had never meant to grant him this wish, but I had called him 'lord' and so I knelt to him and, across ?thelflaed's body, I took his hand in both mine.
'Say it,' he demanded, and he put the crucifix that hung about his neck between our hands.
'I swear to be your man,' I said, looking into his pale eyes, 'until your family is safe.'
He hesitated. I had given him the oath, but I had qualified it.
I had let him know that I would not remain his man for ever, but he accepted my terms. He should have kissed me on both cheeks, but that would have disturbed ?thelflaed and so he raised my right hand and kissed the knuckles, then kissed the crucifix.
'Thank you,' he said.
The truth, of course, was that Alfred was finished, but, with the perversity and arrogance of foolish youth, I had just given him my oath and promised to fight for him.
And all, I think, because a six-year-old stared at me. And she had hair of gold.
Sev
e en
e
The kingdom of Wessex was now a swamp and, for a few days, it possessed a king, a bishop, four priests, two soldiers, the king's pregnant wife, two nurses, a whore, two children, one of whom was sick, and Iseult.
Three of the four priests left the swamp first. Alfred was suffering, struck by the fever and belly pains that so often afflicted him, and he seemed incapable of rousing himself to any decision so I gathered the three youngest priests, told them they were useless mouths we could not afford to feed, and ordered them to leave the swamp and discover what was happening on dry ground.
'Find soldiers,' I told them, 'and say the king wants them to come here.'
Two of the priests begged to be spared the mission, claiming they were scholars incapable of surviving the winter or of confronting the Danes or of enduring discomfort or of doing any real work, and Alewold, the Bishop of Exanceaster, supported them, saying that their joint prayers were needed to keep the king healthy and safe, so I reminded the bishop that Eanflaed was present.
'Eanflaed?' He blinked at me as though he had never heard the name.
'The whore,' I said, 'from Cippanhamm.' He still looked ignorant.
'Cippanhamm,' I went on, 'where you and she rutted in the Corncrake tavern and she says ...'
'The priests will travel,' he said hastily.
'Of course they will,' I said, 'but they'll leave their silver here.'
'Silver?'
The priests had been carrying Alewold's hoard which included the great pyx I had given him to settle Mildrith's debts. That hoard was my next weapon. I took it all and displayed it to the marsh men.
There would be silver, I said, for the food they gave us and the fuel they brought us and the punts they provided and the news they told us, news of the Danes on the swamp's far side. I wanted the marsh men on our side, and the sight of the silver encouraged them, but Bishop Alewold immediately ran to Alfred and complained that I had stolen from the church. The king was too low in spirits to care, so ?lswith, his wife, entered the fray. She was a Mercian and Alfred had married her to tighten the bonds between Wessex and Mercia, though that did little good for us now because the Danes ruled Mercia.
There were plenty of Mercian’s who would fight for a West Saxon king, but none would risk their lives for a king reduced to a soggy realm in a tidal swamp.
'You will return the pyx!' ?lswith ordered me. She looked ragged, her greasy hair tangled, her belly swollen and her clothes filthy. 'Give it back now. This instant!'
I looked at Iseult. 'Should I?'
'No,' Iseult said.
'She has no say here!' ?lswith shrieked.
'But she's a queen,' I said, 'and you're not.'
That was one cause of ?lswith's bitterness, that the West Saxons never called the king's wife a queen. She wanted to be Queen ?lswith and had to be content with less.
She tried to snatch back the pyx, but I tossed it on the ground and, when she reached for it, I swung Leofric's axe. The blade chewed into the big plate, mangling the silver crucifixion, and ?lswith squealed in alarm and backed
