'?thelwold?' Harald asked.
'You'd not heard?' Odda asked. 'Wulfhere of Wiltunscir has sided with Guthrum, and both.
Guthrum and Wulfhere have said ?thelwold will be King of Wessex. And why not? Is not ?thelwold the son of our last king? Should he not be king?'
Harald, uncertain, looked at me. He had not heard of Wulfhere's defection, and it was hard news for him. I nodded. 'Wulfhere is with Guthrum,' I said.
'So ?thelwold, son of ?thelred, will he king in Wessex,' Odda said, 'and ?thelwold has thousands of swords at his command. Alfrig of Kent is with the Danes. There are Danes in Lundene, on Sceapig and on the walls of Contwaraburg. All northern Wessex is in Danish hands. There are Danes here, in Defnascir. What, tell me, is Alfred king of?'
'Of Wessex,' I said.
Odda ignored me, looking at Harald.
'Alfred has our oaths,' Harald said stubbornly.
'And I have your oath,' Odda reminded him. He sighed. 'God knows, Harald, no one was more loyal to Alfred than I. Yet he failed us! The Danes came and the Danes are here, and where is Alfred? Hiding!
In a few weeks their armies will march! They will come from Mercia, from Lundene, from Kent! Their fleets will be off our coast. Armies of Danes and fleets of Vikings! What will you do then?'
Harald shifted uneasily. 'What will you do?' he retorted.
Odda gestured at Svein who, the question translated, spoke for the first time. I interpreted for Harald.
‘Wessex is doomed,’ Svein said in his grating voice. ‘By summer it will be swarming with Danes, with men newly come from the north, and the only Saxons who will live will be those men who aid the Danes now. Those who fight against the Danes,’ Svein said, ‘will be dead, and their women will be whores and their children will be slaves and their homes will be lost and their names shall be forgotten like the smoke of an extinguished fire.’
'And ?thelwold will be king?' I asked scornfully. 'You think we will all bow to a whoring drunkard?'
Odda shook his head. 'The Danes are generous,' he said, and he drew back his cloak and I saw that he were six golden arm rings. 'To those who help them,' he said, 'there will be the rewards of land, wealth and honour.'
‘And ?thelwold will be king?' I asked again.
Odda again gestured at Svein. The big Dane seemed bored, but he stirred himself. 'It is right,' he said, 'that Saxons should he ruled by a Saxon. We shall make a king here.'
I scorned that. They had made Saxon kings in Northumbria and in Mercia and those kings were feeble, leashed to the Danes, and then I understood what Svein meant and I laughed aloud. 'He's promised you the throne!' I accused Odda.
'I've heard more sense from a pig's fart,' Odda retorted, but I knew I was right ?thelwold was Guthrum's candidate for the throne of Wessex, but Svein was no friend of Guthrum and would want his own Saxon as king. Odda.
'King Odda,' I said jeeringly, then spat into the fire.
Odda Would have killed me for that, but we met under the terms of a truce and so he forced himself to ignore the insult. He looked at Harald.
'You have a choice, Harald,' he said, 'you can die or you can live.'
Harald was silent. He had not known about Wulfhere, and the news had appalled him. Wulfhere was the most powerful Ealdorman in Wessex, and if he thought Alfred was doomed, then what was Harald to think? I could see the shire-reeve's uncertainty. His decency wanted him to declare loyalty to Alfred, but Odda had suggested that nothing but death would follow such a choice.
'I ...' Harald began, then fell silent, unable to say what he thought for he did not know his own mind.
'The fyrd is raised,' I spoke, for him, 'at the king's orders, and the king's orders are to drive the Danes from Defnascir.'
Odda spat into the fire for answer.
'Svein has been defeated,' I said. 'His ships are burned. He is like a whipped dog and you give him comfort.' Svein, when that was translated, gave me a look like the stroke of a whip. 'Svein,' I went on as though he was not present, 'must be driven back to the sea.
You have no authority here,' Odda said.
'I have Alfred's authority,' I said, 'and a written order telling you to drive Svein from your shire.'
'Alfred's orders mean nothing,' Odda said, 'and you croak like a swamp frog.' He turned to Steapa.
'You have unfinished business with Uhtred.'
Steapa looked uncertain for a heartbeat, then understood what his master meant. 'Yes, lord,' he said.
'Then finish it now.'
'Finish what now?' Harald asked.
'Your king,' Odda said the last word sarcastically, 'ordered Steapa and Uhtred to fight to the death.
Yet both live! So your king's orders have not been obeyed.'
'There is a truce!' Harald protested.
'Either Uhtred stops interfering in the affairs of Defnascir,' Odda said forcefully, 'or I shall have Defnascir kill Uhtred. You want to know who is right? Alfred or me? You want to know who will be king in Wessex, ?thelwold or Alfred? Then put it to the test, Harald. Let Steapa and Uhtred finish their fight and see which man God favours. If Uhtred wins then I shall support you, and if he loses …' He smiled. He had no doubt who would win.
Harald stayed silent. I looked at Steapa and, as on the first time I met him, saw nothing on his face.
