Death of Kings. Bernard Cornwell

He had not changed much, except he now had a beard that was grey, though his thick hair was still fair. His face was misleadingly open, full of charm, with amused bright eyes. He wore a dozen arm rings and, though the spring day was warm, a cloak of sealskin. Haesten always liked to look prosperous. Men will not follow a poor lord, let alone an ungenerous one, and so long as he had hopes of recovering his wealth he had to appear confident. He also appeared overjoyed to meet me. ‘Lord Uhtred!’ he exclaimed.

      ‘Jarl Haesten,’ I said, making the title as sour as I could, ‘weren’t you supposed to be King of Wessex by now?’

      ‘The pleasure of that throne is delayed,’ he said, ‘but for now let me welcome you to my present kingdom.’

      I laughed at that, as he had meant me to. ‘Your kingdom?’

      He swept an arm around the bleak low valley of the Dee. ‘No other man calls himself king here, so why not me?’

      ‘This is Lord Æthelred’s land,’ I said.

      ‘And Lord Æthelred is so generous with his possessions,’ Haesten said, ‘even, I hear, with his wife’s favours.’

      Merewalh stirred beside me and I held up a cautionary hand. ‘The Jarl Haesten jests,’ I said.

      ‘Of course I jest,’ Haesten said, not smiling.

      ‘This is Merewalh,’ I said, introducing my one companion, ‘and he serves the Lord Æthelred. He might find favour with my cousin by killing you.’

      ‘He’d gain a great deal more favour by killing you,’ Haesten said shrewdly.

      ‘True,’ I allowed, and looked at Merewalh. ‘You want to kill me?’

      ‘Lord!’ he said, shocked.

      ‘My Lord Æthelred,’ I said to Haesten, ‘wishes you to leave his land. He has enough dung without you.’

      ‘Lord Æthelred,’ Haesten said, ‘is most welcome to come and drive me away.’

      This was all as meaningless as it was expected. Haesten had not left the fort to listen to a string of threats, but because he wanted to know what my presence meant. ‘Perhaps,’ I said, ‘the Lord Æthelred has sent me to drive you away?’

      ‘And when did you last do his bidding?’ Haesten asked.

      ‘Perhaps his wife wants you driven away,’ I said.

      ‘She’d rather I were dead, I think.’

      ‘Also true,’ I said.

      Haesten smiled. ‘You came, Lord Uhtred, with one crew of men. We fear you, of course, because who doesn’t fear Uhtred of Bebbanburg?’ He bowed in his saddle as he uttered that piece of flattery. ‘But one crew of men is not sufficient to give the Lady Æthelflaed her wish.’ He waited for my response, but I said nothing. ‘Shall I tell you what mystifies me?’ he asked.

      ‘Tell me,’ I said.

      ‘For years now, Lord Uhtred, you have done Alfred’s work. You have killed his enemies, led his armies, made his kingdom safe, yet in return for all that service you have only one crew of warriors. Other men have land, they have great halls, they have treasure piled in strongrooms, their women’s necks are ringed with gold and they can lead hundreds of oath-men into battle, yet the man who made them safe goes unrewarded. Why do you stay loyal to such an ungenerous lord?’

      ‘I saved your life,’ I said, ‘and you are mystified by ingratitude?’

      He laughed delightedly at that. ‘He starves you because he fears you. Have they made a Christian of you yet?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Then join me. You and I, Lord Uhtred. We’ll tip Æthelred out of his hall and divide Mercia between us.’

      ‘I’ll offer you land in Mercia,’ I said.

      He smiled. ‘An estate two paces long and one pace wide?’ he asked.

      ‘And all of two paces deep,’ I said.

      ‘I am a hard man to kill,’ he said. ‘The gods apparently love me, as they love you. I hear Sigurd has cursed you since Yule.’

      ‘What else do you hear?’

      ‘That the sun rises and sets.’

      ‘Watch it well,’ I said, ‘because you may not see many more such risings and settings.’ I suddenly kicked my horse hard forward, forcing Haesten’s stallion to back away. ‘Listen,’ I said, making my voice harsh, ‘you have two weeks to leave this place. Do you understand me, you ungrateful dog-turd? If you’re still here in fourteen days I’ll do to you what I did to your men at Beamfleot.’ I looked at his two companions, then back to Haesten. ‘Two weeks,’ I said, ‘and then the West Saxon troops come and I’ll turn your skull into a drinking pot.’

      I lied of course, at least about the West Saxon troops coming, but Haesten knew it had been those troops who gave me the numbers to gain the victory at Beamfleot and so the lie was believable. He began to say something, but I turned and spurred away, beckoning Merewalh to follow me. ‘I’m leaving you Finan and twenty men,’ I told the Mercian when we were well out of Haesten’s earshot, ‘and before the two weeks are up you must expect an attack.’

      ‘From Haesten?’ Merewalh asked, sounding dubious.

      ‘No, from Sigurd. He’ll bring at least three hundred men. Haesten needs help, and he’s going to look for favour with Sigurd by sending a message that I’m here, and Sigurd will come because he wants me dead.’ Of course I could not be certain that any of that would happen, but I did not think Sigurd could resist the bait I was dangling. ‘When he comes,’ I went on, ‘you’re going to retreat. Go into the woods, keep ahead of him, and trust Finan. Let Sigurd waste his men on empty land. Don’t even try to fight him, just stay ahead of him.’

      Merewalh did not argue. Instead, after a few moments’ thought, he looked at me quizzically. ‘Lord,’ he asked, ‘why hasn’t Alfred rewarded you?’

      ‘Because he doesn’t trust me,’ I said, and my honesty shocked Merewalh, who stared at me wide-eyed, ‘and if you have any loyalty to your lord,’ I went on, ‘you will tell him that Haesten offered me an alliance.’

      ‘And I shall tell him you refused it.’

      ‘You can tell him I was tempted,’ I said, shocking him again. I spurred on.

      Sigurd and Eohric had laid an elaborate trap for me, one that had very nearly worked, and now I would lay a trap for Sigurd. I could not hope to kill him, not yet, but I wanted him to regret his attempt to kill me. But first I wanted to discover the future. It was time to go north.

      I gave Cerdic my good mail, my helmet, my cloak and my horse. Cerdic was not as tall as I was, but he was big enough, and, dressed in my finery and with the cheek-plates of my helmet hiding his face, he would resemble me. I gave him my shield, painted with the wolf’s head, and told him to show himself every day. ‘Don’t go too close to his walls,’ I said, ‘just let him think I’m watching him.’

      I left my wolf’s head banner with Finan and next day, with twenty-six men, I rode east.

      We rode before dawn so that none of Haesten’s scouts would see us depart, and we rode into the rising sun. Once there was light in the sky we kept to wooded places, but always going east. Ludda was still with us. He was a trickster, a rogue, and I liked him. Best of all he had an extraordinary knowledge of Britain. ‘I’m always moving, lord,’ he explained to me, ‘that’s why I know my way.’

      ‘Always moving?’

      ‘If you sell a man two rusted iron nails for a lump of silver, then you don’t want to be in arm’s reach of him next morning, lord, do you? You move on, lord.’

      I laughed. Ludda was our guide and he led us east on a Roman road until we saw a settlement where smoke rose into the sky and