The Promises of a King, page 1
The Promises of a King
Cover
Title Page
Character List
Prologue
Part One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Part Two
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Part Three
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Part Four
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Part Five
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Epilogue
Author’s Notes
More from the author
About the Author
Copyright
Cover
Table of Contents
Start of Content
Character List
Anglo-Saxon
Edward the Confessor King of England
Ealdgyth of Wessex Queen consort
Nobles
Godwin Earl of Wessex
Gytha Thorkelsdóttir Godwin’s wife
Harold Godwinson Earl of East Anglia
Tostig Godwinson Son of Godwin
Gyrth Godwinson Son of Godwin
Leofwine Godwinson Son of Godwin
Edyth Swanneck Harold’s wife
Aelfgar Earl of Mercia
Edwin Son of Aelfgar
Morcar Son of Aelfgar
Alditha Daughter of Aelfgar
Gruffydd ap Llewelyn King of Gwynedd
Rhydderch of Gwent King of Gwent and Deheubarth
Clergy
Archbishop Stigand Archbishop of Canterbury
Robert of Jumièges Norman bishop
Norman
William the Bastard Duke of Normandy
Alan the Red Lord of Richemont
Other characters
Guy of Ponthieu Count of Ponthieu
Owen of Hereford Harold’s second-in-command
Thegn Dunstan Instigator of the rebellion
Thegn Gamelbearn Instigator of the rebellion
Prologue
Winchester, April, AD 1053
Earl Godwin of Wessex and his wife, Gytha Thorkelsdóttir, sat in the main hall of King Edward’s residence in Winchester, attending a feast to celebrate Bishop Stigand’s elevation to the position of the Archbishop of Canterbury.
The winter had been hard for the Godwin family, for despite their full return to prominence, there had still been no news of Wulfnorth and Hakon, the two children that had been abducted by the Norman bishop, Robert of Jumièges the previous year, and the earl was keen for the weather to break, so he could continue his search in Normandy.
Despite this, the feast was a merry occasion with many prominent earls and lords in attendance, and, despite their worry, both Godwin and Gytha were starting to enjoy themselves.
The evening was drawing to a close when Godwin saw one of the royal servants whispering in Edward’s ear and pointing towards him. The king glanced in his direction before dismissing the servant and summoning Godwin to approach.
‘Ealdgyth,’ said the king, turning to his queen, ‘would you allow your father to sit beside me for a moment? I have important news he should hear.’
‘Is it about my brother and nephew?’ asked Ealdgyth, a look of fear on her face. ‘Have they been hurt?’
‘No, but the matter is no less grave. Let me speak to your father first, and then I will share the news with you.’
‘Of course,’ said Ealdgyth and stood up as her father approached.
‘Your grace,’ said Godwin, approaching the king, ‘you summoned me?’
‘I did,’ said the king. ‘Please sit.’
Godwin sat beside the king and stared at Edward with concern.
‘Earl Godwin,’ said Edward, ‘I have just become aware of some very unpleasant news. Yesterday, a ship arrived from France. On that ship was a man called Owen of Hereford. I believe you know him?’
‘I do,’ said Godwin, ‘he is one of my son’s huscarls. He joined Sweyn on his pilgrimage to Jerusalem last year. How is he back so soon?’
‘This man,’ continued the king, ‘is in a terrible state. Apparently, he and your son reached Jerusalem unharmed but were attacked by brigands in a place called Lycia on their return journey. There is no easy way to say this, but if what this man is saying is true, then your son did not make it. Earl Sweyn was murdered, Earl Godwin. Your son is dead.’
For a few moments, Godwin looked at the king, hardly able to take in the news. Slowly he turned away and stared across at his wife on one of the side tables. His heart raced, and he felt sick as the blood rushed to his head. Slowly he got to his feet, knowing he had to talk to her. He stumbled backwards, sending his chair crashing to the floor, and all heads turned to see the ashen look upon his face. He looked around desperately, realising something was not right. The room looked hazy, and he spun towards his wife, a look of fear etched upon his face. He tried to call out, but the words would not come, and he knew something was desperately wrong.
Gytha placed her goblet on the table and returned her husband’s stare.
‘Godwin?’ she said, getting to her feet. ‘What ails you?’
Those around her fell quiet as they realised what was happening.
‘Godwin,’ she said louder, ‘what is the matter? Answer me.’
Godwin tried to respond, but again, the words would not come.
‘Earl Godwin,’ said the king at his side, ‘what ails you? Do you need anything?’
Again there was no response, and as Gytha screamed his name from the other side of the hall, Godwin of Wessex collapsed against the table, sending food and utensils flying across the hall.
‘Call the physicians,’ roared the king, dragging away the chairs. ‘Archbishop Stigand, attend me.’
As the room burst into frantic activity, the earl looked up and, moments later, saw his terrified wife staring back down at him. Her voice echoed dimly, as if a hundred paces away in a fog-filled forest, calling his name, yet strangely, he was in no pain. A calmness befell him, and for the first time, he realised he was probably dying. The awareness did not scare him, for he knew all men died, but the thought of leaving his wife alone filled him with sadness and regret, and with that thought swimming around his mind, Godwin of Wessex slipped into unconsciousness.
* * *
A few days later, in the king’s bedchamber, Godwin lay in the bed, hardly able to move or communicate. Since the feast, he had been surrounded by physicians, but despite employing every remedy they knew, nothing had worked, and it was obvious he was dying.
Around the bed stood Gytha and their sons, Harold, Tostig, Gyrth and Leofwine, along with Queen Ealdgyth and Harold’s wife, Edyth Swanneck. Archbishop Stigand stood beside the bed, administering the Last Rites, but just as they thought the end was nigh, Gytha gasped as she felt her husband squeeze her hand.
‘Godwin,’ she said quietly with tears rolling down her face. ‘I am here, my love.’
‘Gytha,’ whispered Godwin, ‘I have loved you more than life itself.’
‘And I have loved you,’ whispered Gytha, smoothing her husband’s hair from his eyes. ‘God placed you here with a purpose, my lord, and you have served him and your family far better than even he could have imagined.’
‘Is Harold here?’ asked Godwin, his voice hardly audible.
‘I am,’ said Harold, pushing forward to his father’s bedside. ‘We all are.’
‘There are things left undone,’ whispered Godwin, ‘and I leave them to you to finish.’
‘Anything,’ replied Harold, struggling to control his own emotions.
‘You have to find them,’ said Godwin, his voice fading away, ‘promise me you will bring the boys home.’
‘I swear I will do all that I can,’ said Harold as his own tears started to flow. ‘Goodbye, Father.’
Godwin’s hand finally relaxed in his wife’s grasp, and as Gytha Thorkelsdóttir let out a soul-destroying wail of grief, the light of life left Godwin’s eyes.
Part One
Chapter One
London, March, AD 1055
Harold Godwinson and his brother, Tostig, sat in a small audience chamber deep in the heart of Westminster Palace. Both men had been summoned from their earldoms in Wessex and East Anglia respectively to attend a royal council with the king, but had taken the opportunity to speak to their sister in private before the meeting.
Ealdgyth was King Edward’s wife and consequently the Queen of England, but when they were alone, all three siblings treated each other as just family with none of the trappings of royal protocol.
‘Surely you must know something,’ sai d Tostig.
‘He shares very little with me when it comes to matters of court,’ said Ealdgyth. ‘I know as much as you.’
‘The fact that he has summoned all the earls means it is a matter of utmost importance,’ said Harold.
‘Well, I for one, could do without this,’ said Tostig. ‘Doesn’t he realise we have better things to do than ride back and forth from London?’
‘He is the king, Tostig,’ said Harold, ‘and we are his subjects. He can do whatever he wants to do.’
‘All I am saying,’ continued Tostig, ‘is that since Father died, it seems we are summoned here every month or so, and for what? To listen to his edicts and then ride back whence we came. He could achieve the same outcome by just sending us the documents outlining his decisions. At least that way, we would cut out all this travelling.’
‘It sounds like you do not enjoy your position of influence in the king’s court,’ said Ealdgyth.
‘What position of influence?’ said Tostig. ‘I am a minor earl at most and have never been invited to speak at these councils. What is more, when Aelfgar of Mercia receives the Earldom of Northumbria, as no doubt he will, I suspect my standing will be even more diminished.’
‘You don’t know that,’ said Harold, ‘so let us just see what happens before jumping to conclusions. Anyway, we have to go.’
The two men got to their feet and nodded towards their sister, a recognition of her station. ‘Thank you, my queen,’ said Harold, ‘perhaps we can share some wine before we leave tonight.’
‘That would be nice,’ said Ealdgyth, ‘now go and see what he wants.’
The two men left the room and joined the slow-moving row of clergy and nobles as they filed down the corridor and into the audience chamber.
The room was empty of chairs apart from the royal throne, so over a hundred men found a place to stand on either side of the aisle. Amongst them were many clergymen of various positions, including Bishop Ealdred of Worcester and, near the front, Stigand of Norwich, the Archbishop of Canterbury and close friend to the Godwin family.
Harold looked around and saw most of the other noble houses were also represented. Earl Leofric of Mercia and his son Aelfgar looked particularly enthusiastic and spent a lot of time talking quietly amongst themselves and other noblemen who had accompanied them on the journey.
Harold had no doubt about what enthused them. It was no secret that Aelfgar was one of the most senior nobles in the north of England and, as such, had a strong claim on the Earldom of Northumbria, currently vacant following the death of Earl Siward.
Once the last of the attendees entered the room, the giant doors closed, and everyone fell silent, anticipating the king’s arrival.
Several minutes later, the far doors opened, and King Edward appeared, joined a few paces behind by Ealdgyth. They walked up to the dais and, after a quick acknowledgement of the large audience, took their seats.
‘My lords,’ started Edward, ‘and honoured guests. I have summoned you here today to discuss matters of grave importance. As you are aware, a few weeks ago, Earl Siward of Northumbria was accepted into God’s care after a long and distinguished life. His service to me and to the Crown of England has always been exemplary, particularly so these past few months against the Scots.’
A murmur of approval and agreement rippled around the room. Siward had been a powerful and popular man, and he was a great loss to England.
‘His feats of bravery were second to none,’ continued the king, ‘and it is due to him and him alone that Macbeth was driven back on the day of the Seven Sleepers. Unfortunately, he lost many men that day, including his son, Osbjorn, and his nephew and namesake, Siward. They gave their lives in loyal service and for a great cause, but their untimely deaths, followed by the death of the earl himself, left me with a dilemma that has been difficult to resolve: who will take up his mantle. I make no apologies for my lengthy deliberations, for the decision has to be right, not just for Northumbria, but for England.’ He paused and looked around the room, his eyes finally settling on Leofric of Mercia.
‘Earl Leofric,’ he said, ‘you of all men knew Siward best. Not only was he an ally, but I know that you and he became close friends. Indeed, I also know that both houses were very close, and all concerned would have been affected by the deaths of the three men. My first thoughts were to award the earldom to Siward’s one surviving son, Waltheof, but the thought fled as quickly as it came due to his age. We need a man of strength in the role, not a child. We need to keep the Scots under control along the northern borders, and for that, there is only one man.’
His gaze turned towards Aelfgar of Mercia, causing the young man to stand just a little bit taller in anticipation of the honour about to land upon him. The two men stared at each other for a few moments before Edward finally made the formal announcement they had gathered to hear.
‘The man I have chosen to become the new Earl of Northumbria,’ he began, turning his head to the other side of the room, ‘is Tostig Godwinson.’
An audible gasp echoed around the room.
Tostig had been looking at the floor thinking about his lands in East Anglia, but at the mention of his name, he was snatched back to reality and slowly raised his head to see everyone staring at him.
‘What?’ he said quietly to Harold. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Stand up straight and face your king, Tostig,’ Harold growled back. ‘He has just granted you one of the most powerful earldoms in England.’
Tostig stared at his brother before turning to face the king, shocked at the sudden elevation in status.
‘Your grace,’ he stuttered, ‘I know not what to say.’
‘Perhaps a thank you would be a good start,’ said the king, an amused smile upon his face.
‘Of course,’ said Tostig, ‘please forgive me, your grace. I am both honoured and humbled by your award. The appointment was unexpected, but I humbly accept the trust placed upon me, and I swear I will serve you to the best of my ability in all things.’
The king nodded his acceptance of the response, and many of the men called out their congratulations. One of the nearby nobles walked across and slapped Tostig on the shoulders.
‘Well done, young man,’ he said, ‘your father would have been very proud.’ Others joined in, but as the noise increased, one family had only confusion and anger in their eyes.
‘No,’ shouted Aelfgar above the din, ‘there has to be a mistake.’ He faced the king and took a few steps towards the dais. ‘Your grace,’ he continued, causing everyone to fall silent once more, ‘I believe you have been advised poorly. I am the most senior noble in the north, and that earldom is mine by right. Tostig Godwinson is already the Earl of East Anglia. He does not need further lands or titles.’
‘Aelfgar of Mercia,’ said the king, ‘it is for that precise reason I have given him this title. He knows the north, is used to managing the responsibilities of an earldom and is part of one of the strongest families in England. He may not need the title, but the Crown has need of him and the stability he will bring to the north. My decision is made.’
‘No,’ shouted Aelfgar, again, ‘you can’t do this.’ He stepped closer to the king, but two guards quickly blocked his way.
‘Aelfgar,’ shouted his father, ‘hold still. The king has made his decision, and we will abide by it.’
‘Why,’ shouted Aelfgar, addressing the room, ‘the choice is flawed, and the king has obviously been swayed by the influence of Archbishop Stigand. That earldom is mine and everyone here knows it.’ He turned back to Edward. ‘Your grace,’ he said, ‘I am your humble servant, but I beseech thee, do not do this. Grant me Northumbria, and I will protect the northern borders with my life. Give me what is due to me, and I swear that, within the year, I will bring you the head of Macbeth himself.’
The room was silent again, and everyone watched the king. Edward rose slowly to his feet and faced the angry young man.
‘Aelfgar of Mercia,’ he said. ‘You have stood in this room, in the presence of your peers and heard my royal decree. You have spoken without invitation and raised your voice to challenge my decision. Out of respect for your father, I will take no issue with these insults but say this. First, nobody inherits earldoms by virtue of birth, they are mine to bestow upon whom I please. Never again make the mistake of claiming they are yours by right. Secondly, though I need not explain my decisions, I have done so and will not do it again. Tostig Godwinson is my choice as the new Earl of Northumbria, whether you like it or not. However, I am nothing if not fair. As compensation for your upset, I grant you the lands of East Anglia once they have been vacated by Tostig. This is my decision, take it or leave it.’
