Margaret Moore - [Viking 02] by The Saxon

Author:The Saxon [Saxon, The]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

“As you can see, my lord, my father has spent much effort and money on the fortifications,” Dunstan boasted as Bayard and the rest of the mounted troop crested the wooded hill near Cynath’s burh.

The fortress was large, commanding a view of the river and surrounding downs. There were several well-made buildings inside the walls and also a fair number of other structures outside the fortress.

When they paused to survey the burh, Bayard noticed a stream babbling beside the well-kept roadway as it headed for the river that wound around the fortress. On the banks of the stream, bedstraw and purple scabious, rush, lady fern and long, slender grasses nodded in the breeze. Red campion and bluebells, hawthorn and broom graced its edges, their tints of pink, blue, purple and yellow making splashes of color against the browns and greens of the sprouting trees close by. The oak and alder blossoms dangled overhead, and Bayard could see small yellow flowers against the sharp, dark leaves of holly bushes. Birds twittered in the trees, and a red squirrel scampered overhead, for the May day was a fine one. White, thin clouds littered the sky. As always upon the downs, soft breezes rustled through the wood, blending with the jingling of the harness and the panting of the dogs.

“He has built well indeed,” Bayard replied, impressed more by what he saw than by Dunstan’s bragging.

Dunstan nudged his horse forward. Behind him, Bayard and his cortege did the same, riding slowly toward the fortress.

Bayard could not wonder at Edward’s choice of sites for an important meeting of the Witan and other followers of the king. Cynath was fiercely loyal to Edward, who had been named successor by the Witan according to Saxon custom. Alfred, with his exceptional wisdom, had refrained from naming an heir in his will, although there would have been few who would have protested. Unfortunately Aethelwold, his nephew, had foolishly ignored the Witan, demanding the right to rule because of an older will, which stated Alfred and his brothers were to rule in turn. Alfred, being the youngest, had ruled last, and obviously Aethelwold, the son of Alfred’s elder brother, had expected the succession to pass to the son of the older sibling.

If Aethelwold had even a smattering of intelligence, he would have followed Edward’s example and made a name for himself in battle, so that should anything befall Edward—and considering the constant threat of warfare, that was not an unlikely circumstance—Aethelwold would have a chance to be chosen successor. Instead, Aethelwold had declared himself king, kidnapped a nun, seized a burh and announced that he would fight or die there. Then Aethelwold abandoned the nun and deserted his followers in the dark of night. No Saxon warrior had any respect at all for the fellow now, and it was surely only because the Danes welcomed the division between the Saxons that they had decided to declare Aethelwold king.

Cynath, Bayard and several other thanes were certain Aethelwold was not a great threat.

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