Shadow on the Crown by Patricia Bracewell

Author:Patricia Bracewell [Bracewell, Patricia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780670026395
Google: jPhqwVw4WDIC
Amazon: 0670026395
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2013-02-07T05:00:00+00:00

Winchester, Hampshire

King Æthelred, seated formally upon his ornately carved, brilliantly painted throne in Winchester’s great hall, gazed upon the nobles come from all over his realm to witness the workings of the court. He knew most of them by name and had a general idea of their worth to him in taxable property. They were like children, he thought, who sometimes had to be appeased, sometimes coerced, sometimes placated, sometimes punished. He passed laws to protect them from each other and levied taxes to protect them from outsiders. Yet they perceived him as weak, because, for some years now, he had purchased peace with gold instead of with English blood. He did not doubt that if some brilliant warrior should rise to challenge him for the throne, offering to lead them in battle against their foes, many of his thegns would forsake him.

Brooding upon this dismal theme, Æthelred noticed his eldest son emerge from a knot of men at the back of the hall and make his way toward the dais. As Athelstan approached the throne and knelt at his father’s feet, a shaft of sunlight slanted through the high windows to set the lad’s golden hair aglow and burnish the ornate silver clasp at his right shoulder. Hardly a lad now, Æthelred reminded himself. Headstrong, opinionated, outspoken, yes, but a lad no longer.

He squinted at his son, trying to read the expression on his face. There was trouble brewing there. Of that much he was certain.

He nodded to his son to speak, and Athelstan rose and stepped to one side, turning so that all would hear his words.

“I would speak of our enemy, Swein Forkbeard, who now holds sway in both Denmark and Norway, and who seeks to add England to his northern realms.” His voice rang through the hall, as sharp and clamorous as a warning bell. “It is likely that even now Swein is gathering his dragon ships in some Norman port, preparing to strike us. He will cross the Narrow Sea to plunder our lands and rape our women, for he has a sister’s death to avenge.”

He paused, and Æthelred could see that his son had snared the attention of every man in the hall, for they all feared the next Danish onslaught.

“Will we wait,” Athelstan went on, “as we have so many times before, like huddled sheep for the blow that we fear will come and pray will not? I say . . .” He paused again, and he seemed to grow a little taller as he squared his shoulders, almost as if he were about to face an enemy. “I say that we do not wait for the dragon ships to strike. I propose that we send ships to Normandy, find the Viking fleet, and destroy it before it crosses the Narrow Sea. Let us torch their dragons like signal beacons, cripple them so that they cannot hit us.”

The hall began to buzz with voices, and then a Kentish lord spoke up. “And who would undertake to lead such an enterprise?” he demanded.

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