The Duke and the King Read online

  The Duke and the King

  Book 11 in the

  Norman Genesis Series

  By

  Griff Hosker

  Published by Sword Books Ltd 2019

  Copyright © Griff Hosker First Edition

  The author has asserted their moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

  Cover by Design for Writers

  Prologue

  I had been Lord Göngu-Hrólfr Rognvaldson. I had been Lord of Rouen and the chief of all the Vikings who lived along the lower Seine. That was before I became a Norman; the first of the Normans. After I had led my men to besiege Paris, King Charles had been forced to seek a peace with me. He had given me the land which we held along the banks of the Seine and he had given me a title. He named me Count of Normandy. My men gave me a better one. To them, I was the Duke of Normandy. That meant I did not have to defer to any save the royal family. As I rarely saw any Frankish nobles that was not a problem. I deferred to no one! There was a price to be paid. I had to change my name to Robert. That did not worry me. I had had more names than Loki! No matter what men called me I was still the same warrior I had always been. I was still the most feared Viking.

  There was one further price. I had to be baptised and become Christian. Padraig had been the priest who had served me faithfully for many years. He had always said that I had a Christian heart. I was baptised but the dousing with water meant nothing to me. It did not change my heart or that which lay within my giant frame. I had been to the bottom of the sea and lived. I was not afraid of a wetting. In my heart, I was still what they called a pagan. I still believed in the Norns and the Allfather. I was able to reconcile the part of the religion which I was supposed to follow. The Allfather and the One God appeared to me to be the same. When I was in my church in Rouen and the Bishop spoke of God then to me, that was the Allfather. I would never do as Christians were supposed to. I would never turn a cheek. I would neither forgive nor forget a hurt done to me or mine. I took the Frank’s coin and I spread it amongst my jarls or, as they were now termed, lords. They ruled my lands for me and I ruled Rouen. My son, William Longsword, knew how I felt. He too had been baptised and he, like me, clung to the old religion. Our old ways did not need a church and we had no priests. If the Christians were foolish enough not to believe in the Norns or witches then that was their loss.

  The other price we paid was that I was supposed not to raid the Franks and to control all the Vikings who came to my land. That was not as easy as the King of the Franks made it sound. The Vikings were not a nation. They were a state of mind. There were Norsemen, Danes and Frisians. There were even English Vikings. They did not answer to a king. I had taken gold and made a promise. So long as Charles was King of the Franks then I would keep my word, no matter how hard it was. However, in my heart, I was still the grandson of Hrólfr the Horseman and I was still a Viking.

  Chapter 1

  It had been some years since King Charles had given me my land. In that time, we had stopped Vikings raiding the land of the Franks and we had, by and large, kept the peace. We had not needed to shed any blood. We merely sent them down to the Loire to raid the Bretons. That kept them far from the land which King Charles ruled. We had not needed to raid because of the booty and treasure we had taken from the Franks. I liked to think that I ruled well. The Vikings amongst my people might have agreed but the Franks did not. I did not rule the Frankish way. I was, supposedly. Christian. I had been baptised. I attended church but another cannot read what is in a man’s heart. To me, I still believed in the Allfather. Odin was a better god than the White Christ. He did not turn the other cheek. If I was angered then I punished and I punished in my way. The church did not like my rule. I allowed their churches. I had said that to the Frankish King and I would not be foresworn but they paid taxes like the others who lived in my land. If Padraig had still been alive, he would have known the truth but he had died in Paris. Others had died. Some had been in battle and that saddened me. Of those who had sailed with me from the fjords in Norway only Sámr Oakheart, Bergil Fast Blade and Ragnar the Resolute were still alive. Sven and the others had gone to the Otherworld. All had died with their swords in their hands. I would see them in Valhalla. Haraldr, Harold Mighty Fist, Gandálfr, Bagsecg, Bjorn, Leif and Bjorn the Brave lived still. They now ruled some of my towns but the rest were gone. My son, William Longsword, would rule when I died.

  Although I was proud of William, he had faults. Those faults could be laid at my door. I had been preoccupied with strengthening my land when he had been growing up. He could be a little wild. He took many women to bed. When he raided, he brought back slaves and he used them. He did not seem interested in ruling my land. That again was down to me. I had no woman to share my bed. I was married to Normandy. However, he was a good drekar captain. He was a mighty warrior and he could ride. In short, he was as perfect a son as a Viking could wish. However, I knew that he would need to change and I would have to change him. He needed to become a Norman leader. William still raided. He just made certain that he did not raid the Franks of King Charles. All the rest suffered. King Edward of Wessex was not the king his father had been and they brought great riches into my land. Godwin Red Eyes, one of my oathsworn, acted as a foster father when he sailed. He was a good warrior. He had been blinded and Padraig had saved him and given him back his sight. He was as loyal a warrior as any who served me. The Bretons were a threat and we both raided and fought them. I still ruled. My hands were on the steering board of Normandy. They gripped it tightly. William did not wish to usurp me. There were no others who could challenge me. I had absolute power just so long as I didn’t attack the Franks. I did not.

  Egil Flame Bearer was another who had been my oathsworn. He had been my standard bearer and, like Godwin, had survived Paris. He had changed after that battle. Many of his friends had died. He had been there at the end and I knew that his heart had died a little with Æbbi Bonecrusher and Harold the Bold. He was already married. He had a family. They needed him close to home and I had made him captain of the guard in Rouen. He was happy in that role. He could still fight like a wolf and yet he had a family to raise. With two sons and a daughter, he was changed from the warrior who stood behind me with my banner. He had another purpose in life. He lived the life that his dead oar brothers could not. He was content.

  Many men asked why I did not enjoy an easy life as a lord. The simple fact was that I did. As part of the peace, we had agreed I had a child bride, Gisela. She was the daughter of King Charles and she lived with him in Paris. By the time she was ready to be with me, I would have seen almost eighty summers. It was a political marriage. I could enjoy women whenever I chose. In reality, I rarely took a woman to bed. I would not be in marriage again. Poppa, William’s mother, had rid me of any desire to be duped a second time. I drank, I hunted, I flew my hawks and I still made war. My mind was as sharp as ever. My lords had taken on Frankish customs. Sven Blue Cheek had never adopted Frankish customs. He had lived as a Viking until the day he died. But even Bergil Fast Blade now shunned Viking dress. He drank wine and not ale. He had a Frankish wife and their home was little different from any to be found to the west of us. He was still like family to me and when I heard that he was i
ll I did not hesitate. I took ship and sailed to Caen. My ship was still ‘Fafnir’. Many thought she was too old for me to use and they urged me to build a bigger ship more fitting for the Duke of Normandy. The two of us defied those who thought age made for weakness. I still took the steering board. Erik Leifsson was my captain but his wife had just given birth to another son. I left him in Rouen. It was a short voyage and I enjoyed the thrill of steering once more.

  The difference was my crew. Few were true Norse or even Dane. They were like my son and they had some Frankish blood coursing through their veins. That did not matter for in their hearts they were Northmen! The Franks called us Normans and our land Normandy. We were still warriors. They had names like Baldwin and Richard now but when I looked down the centre of the drekar, I still saw faces from the past. Gandálfr’s son Mauger The Fierce was typical of the ones who rowed up the river to Caen. He had the same Viking upbringing as his father but none had lived the Viking life of raiding and pillaging. He had his father’s colouring but he spoke both Frank and Norse. Our language was changing as were we. My grandfather Hrólfr the Horsemen would have struggled to understand all that Mauger said. He was one of my hearth weru. All ten of them were descended from men who had followed me to this land and all were immensely loyal. Some had fought with us at the siege of Paris when we had won this land but none had the experience their fathers had.

  Caen had been the home of Sven Blue Cheek. When he had died, without issue, I had given it to Sámr Oakheart. Sámr had been lord of Bayeux but Caen was the second most important stronghold in my land. Sámr was the man to hold it for me. Bergil lived close by. He lived closer to the Bretons than many of my lords. Sámr Oakheart was a solid lord. If you asked him to hold a town or a bridge then you knew he would. Now, he too was older. He had fought at my side since Norway. He had sons and he had the best of warriors. He too, however, had begun to adopt certain Frankish ways. He dressed like a Frank and he trimmed his hair. He still had a beard. Many young warriors now shaved their faces and trimmed their hair.

  “Sámr Oakheart, it is good to see you!”

  “Aye lord. We have not raided for some time. My blade aches for Breton blood.”

  I laughed. Sámr Oakheart had been at Bayeux for many years. He had borne the brunt of Breton attacks.

  “Aye, perhaps I will stir this old carcass to chastise them.”

  “You could do more than that, lord. Franks do not raid; they invade and make the land of their enemy theirs. Count Gourmaëlon of Brittany is not Alan the Great, my lord. We can eat into his land and retake the Cotentin.”

  Many of my men felt the same. We had taken Normandy and they wished me to take Brittany too. “You sound like my son. That day may come. As for the rest, we have secure borders?”

  He nodded, “We do and the people pay taxes.”

  “I wish that was true in all of my land. North of the Seine there is discontent.”

  Sámr nodded, “We always knew there would be. We have fewer lords in that part of the land. It is close to Flanders and we know that Count Arnulf of Flanders stirs up trouble.”

  “You have heard that here, too?”

  “Aye, lord. We have many ships which put in here. The Count of Flanders is ambitious. He has made no secret of the fact that he would like the land which lies to the south of the Somme.”

  Sámr was a good leader and one of the best friends I had ever had. He was astute. When I looked at him, I just saw a greyer version of the Viking who had fought with me in Paris.

  “And Bergil. You are his nearest neighbour, what of him? I heard he was unwell. Some said close to death!”

  Sámr laughed, “Dead drunk more like.” He became serious. “You know his wife ran off with a Breton lord?”

  The words sent a shiver through me. I knew what that could do. My former wife, Poppa, had deceived me with a priest. I shook my head, “I did not know that. What did he do?”

  “Took a dive into a jug of wine and did not emerge. If he is unwell it is because he drinks wine and not ale. He rarely stirs from his hall.”

  I began to become angry. Bergil was like a brother to me. This was not like him. “His sons and daughters?”

  “His sons stayed. His daughters fled with their mother. They ran to Nantes.”

  I nodded. Sámr’s wife, Birgitta, handed me a horn of ale, “Perhaps you are right. I should turn my attention to the new Count of Brittany.”

  “That will not bring back Bergil’s wife.”

  “You think I worry about that? Poppa is in a nunnery and I do not miss her. No, we grow old and fat.” I patted my waist. It was growing. “We are Vikings. If we sit and squat then we become Franks! I will see Bergil and give him a kick up the arse. Then we will think about raiding the Bretons.”

  “By land or sea?”

  “Both!”

  “Do not forget we have lost many men. Sven Blue Cheek is no longer with us.”

  “Yet we have many more warriors now than when we took on King Charles! I have my son and I have young warriors. Perhaps this is the time to blood them. The old greybeards like you, Gandálfr and Ragnar the Resolute could watch and advise with me.”

  He laughed, “Lord Göngu-Hrólfr Rognvaldson, they might call you Robert but that does not make you a Frank. You will stand in the front rank and you will hew heads! As will we! You will not leave us behind to watch. If we go to war then all of us will fight.”

  Many men have a name which they outgrow. Sámr Oakheart was not one of them. He had been watching my back since we had left Norway and he was still a reassuring presence.

  My hearth weru and I borrowed horses and rode to Bergil’s hall. As usual, the horse I rode was not big enough and my feet trailed along the ground. It was not a dignified way to travel. Perhaps I was becoming a Frank that I worried about such things. Like most of my lord’s homes, Bergil’s stronghold was fortified with a raised hall, palisades and ditches. This part of my land was at peace but there were always enemies close enough to make us wary and to need somewhere to defend. This was a new land to my hearth weru. They came from Rouen or north of the Seine. To them, this was a foreign country and they rode close to me. There had been a time when there had been no horse large enough to carry me. That was how I had got my name. I had been called the Strider for my feet touched the ground when I rode a horse. Since then my horse breeders, Erik and Gilles, had managed to breed a new type of horse. They were much bigger than the older type. They were slower but I no longer needed to get anywhere in a hurry. It meant that when we rode my men had to look up at me.

  Mauger and William son of Æbbi flanked me. “This is a good country, lord, yet there are many raised halls. Is it dangerous too?”

  “Aye William. The Bretons are ever close. When Alan the Great was Duke then we fought many battles here.”

  Mauger said, “My father told me that he called himself King of Brittany!”

  “Aye, he did. He never was and he learned to fear both our horsemen and our shield walls.” I laughed, “I remember a time when my warriors did not know how to sit astride a horse and to fight. We had men like Stephen of Andecavis and Alain of Auxerre to fight for us. You young warriors are the future of the clan.”

  Mauger laughed, “Clan, now that is a word we rarely hear these days, lord.”

  “And that is sad. The Clan of the Horse was how we called ourselves. When we sailed from Norway there were just a couple of ships with all of our people packed into them. Now we have grown but my heart still yearns for those days when I knew every face and every name.” I pointed to the distant walls of Bergil’s home. “Once I would see Bergil every day. I have not seen him now since we returned from Paris and I was given Normandy! That is sad and I think we are all weakened by it. We are still few in number. We are surrounded by Franks and Bretons. Most would wish us driven back into the sea.”

  “They will not do that, lord.” He sounded confident but I was not certain. Had I been sent here to stir me from my apathy? Was Bergil’s ailment a s
ymptom of something seriously wrong in my land?

  We rode the last couple of miles in reflective silence. We were greeted by Bergil’s sons, Odo and Robert. They were fine looking warriors. I was very poor with ages. I could barely tell any man how old was my son. I could not remember when these two had been born. I could not have said which was the elder. When one stepped forward and gave a bow I knew which was the older of the two.

  “Duke Robert I am Robert son of Bergil Fast Blade. This is an unexpected honour.”

  I held my arm out for him to grasp, “We are not Franks to bow and scrape. This is how warriors greet each other.” I gripped his arm. He did the same and I was reassured that it was a firm grip. “I hear your father is unwell.” They looked at each other and then my hearth weru. I nodded, “Mauger, take the horses to the stable and go to the warrior hall. We will stay here for the night, at least.”

  “Aye lord.”

  We were alone. There were no sentries nearby and we could talk. “Now, tell me all and leave nothing out. I want the truth.”

  “When my mother left us, she seemed to take the heart from our father. He was fond of our sisters.” Robert had not said he was fond of their mother. “He ceased riding and spent more time drinking than ruling this land. We were lucky. The border has been quiet. The people are content and the farms prosper. A month since he fell ill. We sent for the priest and he thought that our father was dying. That is when we sent word to you.”

  I looked at each of them in turn, “And you should have sent to me a long time before he became ill. Did you think it was right for him to drink himself into an early death?”

  “No, lord, but you are a Duke and have a large land to rule.”

  I shook my head. When we had been a clan this would not have happened. “Take me to him and then leave us. My men and I will stay. I will speak to him. You are now both men. We will go to war soon with the Bretons. If your father cannot then I expect you to lead his men.”