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  “He should be a warrior and he should have been trained. My training began when I was younger than you. We will work every day for a time is coming when you will need to fight and defend this land.”

  I shrank into my grandmother’s side. Fighting! My life had been turned upside down in less than a day and I began to feel real fear for the first time. The bullying of my brothers had been predictable and, with Nanna’s help, manageable. Now I was going to be thrust into a world where I knew nothing and I was scared.

  Nanna’s voice was reassuring and gentle. “Fear not, Aelfraed, for you were born to be a warrior. It is in your blood.”

  “Then I am an aelfe!”

  Mother and son looked at each other and then laughed. No my child but you are the son of a great warrior.”

  Doubt filled my mind for no one had ever said that Edwin of Medelai was a great warrior; perhaps I had misjudged my father.

  My three brothers left early the next day. Aethelward grinned from ear to ear as they galloped out of the yard. He looked at me. “It is the small things which are the mark of a man and tell you much about him. I now have the measure of your brothers and believe me I would not wish to stand in a shield wall with them.”

  “You have stood in a shield wall?”

  Everyone knew that only the best of warriors stood in a shield wall. I wondered once again about my father for I knew that he had never stood in a shield wall.

  “Aye for I was a Thingman.” I looked up at him sheepishly. I did not know what a Thingman was and had not wanted to ask. He noted my look. “Never be afraid to ask if there is something you do not know. That is how we learn by asking questions. Those who fear to ask questions never learn and soon perish. I see you are puzzled by the word Thingman. The Thingmen were the bodyguard of the king and when we fought the king never lost a battle.”

  “Is that where you hurt your leg?”

  “Aye. We fought some Danes and one of them feigned injury, when I passed him he hamstrung me.”

  “So you cannot fight now?”

  “Oh I can fight but not in a shield wall. I have learned to ride a horse.”

  “But my brothers ride horses.”

  “Aye but they do not fight from a horse. I went to the French northmen and learned there. They are like the Danes but they fight from the backs of horses and use lances. They are a powerful foe. Now that is enough about me for a while. When we have a break I will tell you of Constantinople and the land of the Romans.” My eyes must have shown my excitement for he patted me on my head. “You are my sister’s son and more, I can see that. Come, pick up your sword.” He had made me a wooden sword. When I lifted it I found it very heavy. “You notice its weight eh? That is to build to your muscles. Tonight your arms will ache and for the next few weeks but there will come a time when they will not hurt and then you will be ready for a real sword.”

  I was so young and so desperate for play of any kind that I threw myself into the training. I had spent so many years hiding and making myself as inconspicuous as possible that it was liberating to be having so much enjoyment. I know that it was not meant to be enjoyable and my dour uncle tried to make it hard work but in all honesty it was not. I had the energy of a child if not the strength and picked up the skills very quickly. It must have impressed my uncle for he stopped after a while to question me. “Have you done this before? Perhaps in play?”

  I shook my head. “Until you came I had not played. I play with Ridley. Chasing.” I looked embarrassed. Chasing did not sound like a warrior skill.

  Surprisingly he nodded. “Chasing is a good game. It speeds up the reflexes and makes you supple.” I gave him the confused look with which he was becoming familiar. “Supple.“ He grabbed me and twisted me. His touch was not rough and tickled and I giggled. He suddenly grabbed me in both arms and held me close to him. I felt tears steam down his face. “That is how Gifu, your mother looked when she laughed. Gods but you are her twin.” He put me down. “Go and find this Ridley, I have an idea.”

  Ridley was not hard to find for he was watching us from beyond the cow byre. He approached the fierce looking warrior nervously. “Come child you need not fear me. I am Aelfraed’s uncle and it will save time if you call me uncle too. Will you do that?” Ridley nodded. “Good. Your silence is good sign that we shall get on. Would you like to learn to fight as Aelfraed does?” Ridley grinned and nodded so hard I thought his head would fall off. “Good. Then wait here while I get you a sword.”

  And that was how it began. My training became much swifter as I had someone the same height as me to fight. Aethelward could see my posture better and he corrected it. Ridley loved both the training and my uncle. His father, the Steward, was a serious man neither given to play nor conversation and he suddenly found that someone paid him attention. The exotic wounded warrior was an intriguing and exciting grown up. We spent three days with just our swords and learned to block, thrust and stab to Aethelward’s satisfaction. He smiled at our bruises and said they were marks of honour marking our progress and we proudly boasted of them to each other.

  Once, when I had turned my back on Ridley and he had struck me I turned angrily around. My uncle restrained me. “No, Aelfraed, the fault lies with you and not your opponent. Always be ready for the unexpected attack.” He pointed to his wounded leg with his stick. “I discovered that even those we think are dead can be deadly. Remember too that there will be more than one enemy on a battlefield and not all will be to your front. No do not chastise Ridley, rather thank him for providing a valuable lesson.”

  We had then practised with Uncle trying to dart in behind our guards when we were engaged with each other. From his nods I could see that he approved of our progress.

  “Tomorrow we shall see about getting you two a shield each.”

  Our burgeoning and excited questions were halted by the clatter of hooves in the yard as my father and my brothers returned. All four of them stared malevolently at uncle who turned to us. “You two go and play, I think the Thegn, your father, wants a word with me.” I must have looked afraid for he suddenly grinned and gave me a wink. “Fear not. I am going nowhere until I choose.”

  We watched as he limped over to the hall. It was then I noticed that he always wore his wolf skin cloak about his shoulders and, just peeping from the bottom I could see the tip of the scabbard of his sword, worn across his back. It struck me as odd for I had never noticed them when facing him but now, seen from the back, they showed that the warrior was still wary and still prepared for action. We half heartedly prodded and poked at each other in the yard but the raised voices from the hall intrigued us and, without words, we ceased our training and ran to the wall to eavesdrop. We knew that we should not and that, if discovered, we would be punished but the angry noise from inside was just too irresistible.

  “Are you forgetting Edwin the debt you owe me?”

  “It is not honourable for you to mention that and the debt will be repaid when I am ready.”

  “It is not honourable to treat a helpless boy like a thrall and to treat a warrior like a criminal.”

  There was a silence and I wondered what their faces showed for I had learned to look at the faces of men when they spoke and, more importantly, when they remained silent for they often told you more of their thoughts.

  I heard my brother, Egbert, suddenly shout, “What is this debt? We owe this man no debt!”

  My uncle’s voice was laden with threat. “I think, Edwin, that you stay away from your hall too much. You should be here to teach this pup lessons in manners for if he shouts at me again he will lose more than his tongue.”

  “Try it old man…”

  “Silence!” My father’s voice cracked like a whip and I wondered at Egbert’s defiance for I remembered how he had been held like a squirming fish by the warrior he called an old man.

  Aethelward’s voice laughed a reply, “Any time you are ready Egbert you can try your blade but, ask your father first, for he knows that you would lose.
”

  Just when it was becoming interesting I felt my ear being tugged and Ridley and I were hauled to our feet by Nanna. “No one hears anything good when they spy on others. Back to the yard and do not let me catch you listening again.”

  As we trudged back to the yard I could see the pain on my grandmother’s face as she coughed blood into a cloth. I felt guilty for I knew that she should be resting. She was right, we had learned nothing from the argument save that my father owed my uncle a debt and Egbert was willing to fight Aethelward. Neither helped me although I secretly wished that my bullying brother would try his blade against that of my uncle for I was certain that he would lose, and he would die. The pagan side of me relished the thought but the Christian side, that of my Nanna, made me feel guilty that I was wishing death on my brother.

  That night as I lay in my bed I was desperate to ask Aethelward about the debt but knew that, if I did, he would know that I had disobeyed him and I did not want him to think badly of me. Instead I asked, “Tell me of Constantinople and the Romans.”

  He smiled, his eyes half closing at the memory. “I was not much older than your brother Egbert and I was full of myself.” His eyes opened and he looked seriously at me. “My first battle was a disaster and I think that it saved my life. Remember young Aelfraed that mere belief in oneself will not save you when you are badly led.” He pulled the covers up to my ears and his sonorous voice told the tale and I suddenly thought that it sounded like one of the sagas we heard at Yuletide and that my uncle had more skills than merely those of a warrior. “The Emperor was a young man, not unlike Egbert, who thought that he merely had to turn up on a battlefield and he would win. My first battle, the battle of Azaz showed that he was wrong. We marched into the desert to fight the Arabs and I felt invincible.”

  “Did you have fine armour?”

  “Who is telling this tale young Aelfraed, you or I?”

  “Sorry.”

  He ruffled my hair, “Never stop the tale for it must be told to the end. Aye, we had fine armour; a long mail shirt and greaves on our legs. We each had a long well balanced axe and our shields wore the sign of the Raven. Atop our heads we each wore a sound helmet with a leather cap beneath. Oh we were well protected but as we headed into the desert the heat was so much that men began to fall. There was little water and then men began to die from diseases. When we were all weakened then the men of the desert, the Arabs, attacked and even though they were not as armoured as we, their attacks killed those who were not as skilled nor as well protected as we were. When they came within range of our axes then they died but they used arrows and spears and learned to keep away from the edges of our weapons. Were it not for the Hetaireia, the Emperor’s own bodyguard, who sacrificed themselves then we would not have escaped. It showed me than that men must fight for something in which they believe or a man they can follow. The Emperor Romanos was not a man to follow.”

  His voice fell silent. I used the silence to venture a question. “But you served him still.”

  “Aye you show wisdom beyond your years young warrior, I did but he only lived a short while longer and the ones who followed were neither as foolish nor as reckless with their warrior’s lives. Now sleep, like your grandmother.”

  I looked at Nanna and the tendril of blood which dripped from the corner of her mouth. “Is she dying uncle?”

  He looked at me sadly. “Warriors do not lie to other warriors, even when those warriors are not yet grown. Aye, she is dying and will soon be with your mother. I think she only stayed alive long enough to see me and to pass your protection onto my shoulders.”

  I turned my face into the covers so that my uncle would not see my tears. I might be training to be a warrior but I was still the child who loved and adored this woman who had always been there for me and protected me from all the threats around me. I knew then that she and my mother had regarded me as special. I knew not why but I determined I would neither let them down, nor this mighty warrior who had fought at the ends of the world.

  Nanna died seven nights later. My uncle brought me to her. Her eyes were closed and I thought for a moment that she had died already as her skin was grey and there appeared to be no movement. I almost cried out in relief when her rheumy eyes slowly opened and she smiled that comforting smile which had kept me going through the darkest of times. She reached an arthritic hand towards my hand and I felt the cold of approaching death. For the first time in my young life I was watching and feeling life depart.

  “Aelfraed, you have greatness in you. You are descended from kings and you must never forget it. My son has been charged to watch over you and guard you as long as he lives but remember,” she paused as she coughed up some more flecks of blood, “that your mother and I will watch over you for eternity.” This disquieting message seemed at odds with the devout Christianity of my Nanna but I could feel the passion in the grip of her stiff fingertips. She saw the tears dripping from my eyes. “Do not weep for me. I have loved you since before you were born and I will continue to do so long after I have passed on. Kiss me and say goodbye.”

  I dutifully leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek as she kissed me on mine. It seemed for a moment that the rosy glow of her cheeks, which I had always seen, rushed back for the briefest of moments and then she lay back. “Goodbye Nanna.”

  Aethelward nodded and gestured for me to leave. He remained with her for a short time and when he came out his face was dark. “Our mother has gone.”

  Chapter 2

  Although the arrival of my uncle had marked a serious change in my life the most momentous meeting came almost ten years after Nanna’s death. The Earl of the land of Northumbria for the last few years had been Tostig Godwinson. My uncle did not like him and was disparaging about him when he spoke with me. I had noted, however, that whenever my father and brothers were around Aethelward kept his own counsel. We had become close by then and I asked him about this, apparent, hypocrisy.

  He had looked at me carefully and spoke quietly, “Some men like to use information to weaken a warrior, and others can be trusted. I know that you would never betray one of my confidences.” I had recognised that there was bad feeling between my uncle and my father but I had not thought that it would be so deeply rooted and I became wary and watched my words.

  The training had continued over the intervening years and Ridley and I now met with the approval of Aethelward. By approval I mean that he did not always shout at us or call us useless clods. Those were heady days indeed. Although we had both filled out and grown Ridley had developed into a giant of a man. He towered over all of us and his father regretted allowing Aethelward to train him. It was an expensive luxury but whatever hold my uncle had over my father it extended to the Steward and his son for Ridley trained every day. My uncle would vary our training diet by taking us on long walks through the hills and moors to hunt and to exercise. When I asked about horses he had snorted. “There will come a time when you can think about a horse but first let us master your feet which still move too slowly.”

  The day which changed my life began with the arrival of two outriders. They were mailed and armoured with the most magnificent armour I have ever seen. It seemed to gleam as though silver. When I asked Aethelward about that he laughed and told me that good warriors burnish their armour to stop it rusting. I was envious for I only had an old leather byrnie for armour. When I had first been given it I had felt proud like a real warrior but now, having seen fine armour, it paled.

  The riders rode straight to my father who had spent more time in the farm since the arrival of my uncle. We were busy exercising but I could see that Aethelward’s attention had been aroused. As the two riders left my father looked towards us and then gestured for us to approach. That in itself was a matter of note for I had been avoided by my whole family since Nanna’s death. Leaving Ridley to take the weapons away we drew closer to my father and brothers.

  “Make yourselves presentable, Earl Tostig approaches and his brother Earl Har
old.”

  My uncle’s face lit up into a smile when he heard the name of Earl Harold and as we went to clean up he told me why. “I will be interested young Aelfraed in your assessment of these two brothers for they are the most powerful men in the whole land.”

  “More powerful than the King?”

  “The King is more concerned with matters of the soul and the Church for he is a holy man. Harold is the next in line to be king, although the Witenagemot would have to choose but Harold is the one they would choose.”

  “You like him.” It was a statement not a question for I had learned to listen to the way my uncle spoke as well as the words.

  “Aye. He is a noble warrior and a man you can trust. Your mother and I knew him when we were children and I feel about him the way you feel about Ridley. I would trust him with my life and the life of my family.” There was something he had not said but I could not discern it. “Today is an important one for you Aelfraed. Watch your tongue and watch others. Do not attempt to flatter or ingratiate yourself. Others will do that and will become lesser men for their falsehoods.”

  As soon as I saw Earls Tostig and Harold I could see that they were brothers but I could also see that they were different. Perhaps my uncle’s words coloured my judgement but I disliked Earl Tostig the moment I saw him and fell under the thrall of Harold. They had a small but very well armed retinue and I could see, at a glance that they were all hardened warriors. They were the elite, the Housecarls.

  My father had tried his best to belittle both Aethelward and myself by standing with my brothers on the steps to the hall leaving me and Aethelward at a lower level. It was a snub and meant to demean us. I must have shown my irritation for I felt a hand on my shoulder and a small, quiet voice spoke in my ear. “It is not where you stand but how you behave which marks you as a man and a warrior.”

  As Tostig and Harold dismounted his Housecarls watched all of us, their mailed and veiled faces seeking any sign of treachery. Knowing that Aethelward had been one such a warrior raised him even higher in my estimation and made me wonder again about the claim that I was descended from a great warrior. In the years since I had heard the words I had looked for a sign but Edwin of Medelai showed no attributes of a great warrior, if anything he appeared less now than he had, more of a greedy merchant than a fighter.