The Lords of the North (33 page)

'Without Earl Ragnar,' I told Hrothweard scornfully, 'Kjartan will tear you to pieces.
And Earl Ragnar,' I looked at Guthred again, 'is my friend, not yours.'

Guthred took his wife's hand, then summoned the courage to look me in the eye.

'What would you do, Lord Uhtred?'

My enemies, and there were plenty of those in that church, noted that he called me Lord
Uhtred and there was a shudder of distaste. I stepped forward.

'It's easy, lord.' I said, and I had not known what I was going to say, but suddenly it
came to me. The three spinners were either playing a joke, or else they had given me a fate
as golden as Guthred's, for suddenly it did all seem easy.

'Easy?' Guthred asked.

'Ivarr has gone to Eoferwic, lord,' I said, 'and Kjartan has sent men to stop you
reaching Bebbanburg. What they are trying to do, lord, is to keep you a fugitive. They
will take your fortresses, capture your palace, destroy your Saxon supporters and when
you have nowhere to hide they will take you and they will kill you.'

'So?' Guthred asked plaintively. 'What do we do?'

'We place ourselves, lord, in a fortress, of course. In a place of safety.'

'Where?' he asked.

'Dunholm,' I said, 'where else?'

He just stared at me. No one else spoke. Even the churchmen, who only a moment before
had been howling for my death, were silent. And I was thinking of Alfred, and how, in that
dreadful winter when all Wessex seemed doomed, he had not thought of mere survival, but of
victory.

'If we march at dawn,' I said, 'and march fast, then in two days we shall take
Dunholm.'

'You can do that?' Guthred asked.

'No, lord,' I said, 'we can do it.' Though how, I had not the slightest idea. All I knew
was that we were few and the enemy numerous, and that so far Guthred had been like a mouse
in that enemy's paws, and it was time that we fought back. And Dunholm, because Kjartan had
sent so many men to guard the Bebbanburg approaches, was as weak as it was ever likely to
be.

'We can do it.' Ragnar said. He came to stand beside me. Then we shall.' Guthred said, and
that was how it was decided. The priests did not like the notion that I would live
unpunished, and they liked it even less when Guthred brushed their complaints away and asked
me to go with him to the small house

that were his quarters. Gisela came too and she sat against the wall and watched the two of
us. A small fire burned. It was cold that afternoon, the first cold of the coming
winter.

Guthred was embarrassed to find himself with me. He half smiled. 'I am sorry.'

he said haltingly.

'You're a bastard.' I said.

'Uhtred.' he began, but could find nothing more to say.

'You're a piece of weasel-shit!' I said, 'you're an earsling.'

'I'm a king.' he said, trying to regain his dignity.

'So you're a royal piece of weasel-shit. An earsling on a throne.'

he said and still could find nothing more to say, so instead he sat on the only chair in
the room and gave a shrug. ;

'But you did the right thing.' I told him.

'I did?' he brightened.

'But it didn't work, did it? You were supposed to sacrifice me to get Ælfric's troops on
your side. You were supposed to crush Kjartan like a louse, but he's still there, and Citric
calls himself Lord of Bernicia, and you've got a Danish rebellion on your hands. And for
that I slaved at an oar for over two years?' He said nothing. I unbuckled my sword belt and
then tugged the heavy mail coat over my head and let it collapse on the floor. Guthred was
puzzled as he watched me pull the tunic off my left shoulder, then I showed him the slave
scar that Hakka had carved into my upper arm. 'You know what that is?' I asked. He shook his
head. 'A slave mark, lord King. You don't have one?'

'No.' he said.

'I took it for you,' I said. 'I took it so you could be king here, but instead you're a
priest-ridden fugitive. I told you to kill Ivarr long ago.'

'I should have done.' he admitted.

'And you let that miserable piece of hairy gristle, Hrothweard, impose a tithe on the
Danes?'

'It was for the shrine,' he said. 'Hrothweard had a dream. He said Saint Cuthbert spoke to
him.'

'Cuthbert's talkative for a dead man, isn't he? Why don't you remember that you rule this
land, not Saint Cuthbert?'

He looked miserable. 'The Christian magic has always worked for me.' he said.

'It hasn't worked,' I said scornfully. 'Kjartan lives, Ivarr lives, and you face a
revolt of the Danes. Forget your Christian magic. You've got me now, and you've got Earl
Ragnar. He's the best man in your kingdom. Look after him.'

'And you,' he said, 'I shall look after you. I promise.' 'I am.' Gisela said.

'Because you're going to be my brother-in-law.' I told Guthred. He nodded at that,
then gave me a wan smile. 'She always said you'd come back.'

'And you thought I was dead?'

'I hoped you were not.' he said. Then he stood and smiled. 'Would you believe me,' he
asked, 'if I said I missed you?'

'Yes, lord,' I said, 'because I missed you.'

'You did?' he asked in hope.

'Yes, lord,' I said, 'I did.' And oddly enough, that was true. I had thought I would hate
him when I saw him again, but I had forgotten his infectious charm. I liked him still. We
embraced. Guthred picked up his helmet and went to the door that was a piece of cloth hooked
onto nails. 'I shall leave you my house tonight.' he said, smiling. The two of you.' he
added. And he did.

Gisela. These days, when I am old, I sometimes see a girl who reminds me of Gisela and
there comes a catch into my throat. I see a girl with a long stride, see the black hair, the
slim waist, the grace of her movements and the defiant upward tilt of her head. And when I
see such a girl I think I am seeing Gisela again, and often, because I have become a
sentimental fool in my dotage, I find myself with tears in my eyes.

'I already have a wife.' I told her that night.

'You're married?' Gisela asked me.

'Her name is Mildrith,' I said, 'and I married her a long time ago because Alfred
ordered it, and she hates me, and so she's gone into a nunnery.'

'All your women do that,' Gisela said. 'Mildrith, Hild, and me.'

That's true,' I said, amused. I had not thought of it before,

'Hild told me to go into a nunnery if I was threatened.' Gisela told me.

'Hild did?'

'She said I'd be safe there. So when Kjartan said he wanted me to marry his son, I went
to the nunnery.'

'Guthred would never have married you to Sven,' I said.

'My brother thought about it,' she said. 'He needed money. He needed help and I was all
he had to offer.'

The peace cow.'

That's me.' she said.

'Did you like the nunnery?'

'I hated it all the time you were away. Are you going to kill Kjartan?'

'Yes.'

'How?'

'I don't know,' I said. 'Or perhaps Ragnar will kill him. Ragnar has more cause than
me.'

'When I refused to marry Sven,' Gisela said, 'Kjartan said he'd capture me and let his
men rape me. He said he'd stake me on the ground and let his men use me, and when they were
done he'd let his dogs have me. Did you and Mildrith have children?'

'One,' I said, 'a son. He died.'

'Mine won't die. My sons will be warriors, and my daughter will be the mother of
warriors.'

I smiled, then ran my hand down her long spine so that she shivered on top of me. We were
covered by three cloaks and her hair was wet because the thatch was leaking. The
floor-rushes were rotted and damp beneath me, but we were happy. 'Did you become a
Christian in your nunnery?' I asked her.

'Of course not.' she said scornfully.

They didn't mind?'

'I gave them silver.'

'Then they didn't mind.' I said.

'I don't think any Dane is a real Christian.' she told me.

'Not even your brother?'

'We have many gods,' she said, 'and the Christian god is just another one. I'm sure
that's what Guthred thinks. What's the Christian god's name? A nun did tell me, but I've
forgotten.'

'Jehovah.'

There you are, then. Odin, Thor and Jehovah. Does he have a wife?'

'No.'

'Poor Jehovah.' she said.

Poor Jehovah, I thought, and was still thinking it when, in a persistent rain that
slashed on the stony remnants of the Roman road and turned the fields to mud, we crossed the
Swale and rode north to take the fortress that could not be taken. We rode to capture
Dunholm.