Spring 937

Osthryth watched as Finan got up onto his horse. He had not said, but Osthryth had told him, told him to go, for the trouble had becom so acute that it could only end in one way.

Young Finan was not at Bebbanburg any more. Not since -

No. He was not with Uhtred. But Finan needed to be.

Too many incursions south by Constantine, too many raids and skirmishes to make trouble in Englaland - in East Anglia, in Mercia, in southern Northumbria - Eoforwic, Gainisburh, Derby, Nottingham, Repton - like the Danes of old, and the west, down the Cumbraland coast, and down the Dee, down to the Saeferne and around the Waeleas coast.

That was now. But Osthryth could only reflect on the present. It had been the happiest two years of her life, Finan happy taking charge of the estate as the circle of the year came to Berric. Abbot Beall had returned and spoke to the Picts, addressed them in the way that Osthryth imagined Saint Cuthbert had, to the Angles - her ancestors - converting them to the Christianity that had been amongst the Britons for centuries.

"I will see you soon," Osthryth told Finan, and stood on the higher ground, watching him ride south.

And from the north, Aeswi came to visit.

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"In the year 935 in Aethelstan's court at Cirencester, Constantine of Alba came to offer fealty to the king, witnessed a charter at Buckhingham, described as Subregulus, acknoledging Aethelstan's overlordship, ine of several subject kings, the Hywel Dda and Owain of Strathclyde."

All reading the Anglo-Saxon chronicle, Alfred's book of events, one might believe that there was stability throughout the Anglish and Saxon population. and to some extent, this was true. Peace was established, money minted to Aethelstan was made. His name was known throughout the land as firm and fair.

And yet, through his claim to the lands of Cumbraland, Eoforwic and the north had given a catalyst to the undercurrent of independence focused around Archbishop Wulfstan, echoes of which had been included in sermons that Aethelstan had no business north of the Humber, and that Guthfrith and even Constantine was more welcome.

Reports of meetings and plottings from Eoforwic had reached Berric, as had the money demamded from sub-kings from Aethelstan at Cirencester. "We might as well invite the Norse back," had been the information that Caltigar had relayed to Osthryth, when he had ridden south and met with young Uhtred.

And so it was that a report was lodged in Winchester that, just over year after Constantine had bowed to Aethelstan at his own fortress, surrounded as he had been by Aethelstan's men and allies, another reaffirmation meeting had been called at Aethelstan's court before Advent. In attendance was Owain of Strathclyde, Hywel and his sons, and Cynddylan. But not Constantine.

Instead, Norse had come to Dunnottar, and notices of interest had been sent by Constantine to Wulfstan: Guthfrith wanted Eoforwic back.

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Osthryth had been up for two nights in a row, without the rest she ought to have. Caltigar and Munadd had gone with Finan to the farms in the west and the north to help with the lambing, such was the abundance of sheep there was going to be that year.

937. Surely nothing that year was going to be as tiring as the birth of twins and triplet sheep - it showed that the abundance of food had yielded fertile ewes, and that year was promising to be the same.

So, when she saw her son riding towards her, Osthryth had to blink into the April sunshine to regain her senses.

"There have been incursions south of here, closer to the wall, by Alba warriors, and Constantine's allies."

That was why he was here, was he not? Osthryth's question was met with deadly silence, an she waited until their son got down from his horse and explained to her what exactly had gone on.

"Uncle told me to go, and I will return to Constantine," young Finan told his mother. "And yes, I did mention the agreement, and he told me that I was an arseling if I thought that the agreement still held."

"He likes you, then," Osthryth told her son, "He only calls those he likes best an arseling." Osthryth rubbed her face, and looked north. Behind her, the younger children of the hall were helping with the lambing now, their small hands were ideal to help those ewes who were having a challenging time.

"It is one of the better names he has called me," young Finan told her. "He told me I was a bastard Gael and I was to ride to Alba before he beat the skin off my back. I thought it best to see you on the way."

"Aedre is happy there," Osthryth said to him. "And she is married, now." Her son gave her a fierce look.

"Is it because I am not married that people keep reminding me who is?" young Finan complained to his mother, bitterly. "I do not want to marry anyone."

"Not even Aedre?" Osthryth asked. Young Finan gave her a long look.

"I do not love Aedre, not like when I was a boy, she is still my friend. At least I hope she is." And Osthryth went on to hear her son tell her that Uhtred had told her to get back to his father.

"Meaning Constantine," young Finan told her, resignedly.

"Why?" Osthryth wanted to know.

"Benedetta and I -" he began

"No!" Osthryth shouted, all her tiredness falling from her at once. "Tell me no, son!" she demanded.

"No," young Finan told his mother. "We speak to one another, not often, but sometimes. I spoke to her in Latin that I had improved, and she liked it. We spent a little time together."

"An unmarried ex-slave who is the lover of your uncle, and you, a twenty six year old young man?" Osthryth knew her son, she knew he got on with women, was easy in their company, and she knew her brother would not like that at all.

"Is Constantine my father?" young Finan asked, suddenly. Osthryth felt her tired mouth fall open.

"Did Lundene, did Aethelstan's coronation tell you nothing?" Osthryth told him. "Finan is your father; Constantine is not. But Constantine loved you like a son for I took you, as I took Aedre, to Dunnottar, to be safe. You wanted for nothing, did you not? Nor did Aedre." Young Finan seemed to be waiting for her to say more, such as "but..."

"Yes," Osthryth admitted, "I loved him once, but no, Finan has to be your father. Irrespective of all of that go where you want to, whatever wherever makes you happy." And she took her son inside her hall, and to her bedroom, where she extracted two swords from beside her bed and held them out to young Finan.

"Faedersword and Buaidh," Osthryth told him. "It would make me happy if you chose one. For I know you will be beside Constantine in whatever it is to come."

And young Finan chose Faedersword, the sword belonging to Uhtred, father of Uhtred, their older brother, also called Uhtred, and Osthryth, once called Aedre. It had been their grandfather's, too, and young Finan knew this. He knew he was choosing a sword which Osthryth had taken, in her haste as a child, from Bebbanburg, and was part of her Saxon family.

Which left her with Buaidh, won from Domnall, as reliable as any sword could be.

From her window, Osthryth watched as her son rode north, to Constantine, in Alba.

And then she put down Buaidh, and made her way back out to the lambs, to see how many had made it into the warm, early spring morning.

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it was said, before Aethelstan's death, and the chronicle of Alfred and the pages concerning the Rex Totalus Brittaniae were destroyed, that the King of the Angles and the Saxons was intrigued by the Britons and regularly invited Hywel to speak to him about the Cymric culture. In payment, he gave silver that Ty Ddewi could be rebuilt, that shrines could be reinstated and that information about the Irish Church could be established.

And it was said that Aethelstan went on many visits to Celtic holy sites, such as Stoke Saint Necton, and that the antiquity of the whole of the islands of Britain held him emotionally. His players reworked old Brythonic music, and prayers were said for all the inhabitants of the islands, not just the Angles and the Saxons.

During that time, Aethelstan established the border to the east of Cymru as being the River Wye, controlled forts up and down the coasts and was conciliatory towards the now-settled Danes.

At Welund Bridge in what was once Danelaw, Stamford was divided into two boroughs, one for where the Danes lived and the other for the Saxons, King Aethelstan not just giving permission, but encouraging the mixing of the populations.

"I did not expect you to accept me to your hall," Aeswi told Osthryth, as he rode, flanked by Caltigar and Munadd.

"How could I not?" Osthryth told him, "A friend is a friend, no matter the politics." But she made it clear she did not want to know of Alba, too painful it would have been to hear.

Yet, she fed Aeswi, and Finan had welcomed him, coming in with ale to share with Constantine's spy, who recounted, in contrast, all he knew of Aethelstan, and Osthryth told them of her ancestor, King Edwin, over whose land of Northumbria - ancient Deria and Bernicia combined - a woman with a child might walk freely and unmolested, and cups were to be placed by rivers so thirsts could be slaked.

It hurt to see Aeswi, after how she had left it with Constantine. But she had no choice. Her people needed her, and she needed them. But she did ask that Aeswi look out for young Finan, make sure he was safe.

Aeswi took her by the shoulders, and drew her in for an embrace. They had been friends for so many years, he had stood by her when she had served in Mercia, helped her when she returned to Mercia and promised with all his heart that he would do this for her. It was the last Osthryth would ever see of Aeswi, brother of Finnolai - now Abbot Findal of Caer Ligualid - alive.

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And so the incursions came. More Alba ships came to the horizon, and Osthryth watched out, hoping that she would never see the red hand of Ulster, dreading that the next banner she saw would be it.

Then, one bright, summer morning, just over a year before the Great War, Aethelstan came to Berric.

At first, Caltigar had ridden north, just as he had done when Aethelstan's captain, Ealdred, had brought up the army and had humiliated her because he could. Osthryth turned over the farm and brought in the livestock, made the women and children hide and her militia arm.

In fact, Beann had already made that decision, and as Finan had ridden down from the river to be beside her, he saw that Osthryth's warriors had already formed a circle around her as the king of the Angles and Saxons rode up to them.

He came alone, pointedly alone, and got down from his horse and led it towards the warriors.

"King Aethelstan," Finan called. "You are welcome to our land." He did not look to Osthryth, for he knew she was also about to say the same thing.

"My men will wait; I would speak to you about the pilgrimage I am making, to the sites of the Saxon saints from Northumbria," he told Osthryth, the gold thread sparkling in his hair. She glanced back to Finan, and nodded to Beann, who stood down the men.

"You would be better off speaking to Bishop Oswald of Ceastre," Osthryth told him, meaning Uhtred's first born son. "He has done extensive research." Aethelstan smiled.

"It was Bishop Oswald was the one who told me to come to you," Aethelstan explained.

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And, after pleasantries and guarantees from Aethelstan that Osthryth was not to be harmed - as Finan contemplated alerting Uhtred for help should he need it, and Osthryth was showing him the shrine, a few miles east from Berric.

But it seemed more as if Aethelstan had come to see Osthryth to talk over old times rather than see the shrine, although he knelt to it, and prayed. He had chosen to use Uhtred as Alfred did, and keep him not too close.

"My position is tenuous enough; I am known as the bastard to my enemies," he confided in Osthryth as they slowed their horses to cross the ford of the Coquet. "If I was perfect for the rest of my life I would always be Edward's bastard. Aelfweard did evetything wrong and half of my country supported him. So," he added, "I swore chastity like Aethelflaed and named my half brothers as successors. And yet," Aethelstan sighed, as Berric came into view, "I wanted Wessex to continue my grandfather's chronicle, and they have, under Dunstan's guidance, but reluctantly.

"Memories have died hard of Aethelhelm and Aelfweard," Osthryth suggested, and the thought of the man, still young who, not thirteen years before had won such a great victory in Lundene to be king of the Angles and the Saxons.

"I understand that your brother still has your son under his tutleage," Aethelstan furthered. "I considered taking him to join Louis Outremer and the baby, Alain Barbeorte baby, Frankia's finest, and Haaken of Norway. Except, that Uhtred said he had come to you." Aethelstan inclined his head to Osthryth. "I have come to ask for your son, so he can learn of Wessex and Mercia."

"The son who you thought was your half brother?" Aethelstan was unmoved. And Osthryth thought, "He still believes it, after all this time."

"He was sent away from Bebbanburg," Osthryth told him. She watched Aethelstan's face flicker. Osthryth did not need to tell him she meant Alba.

"For what?" Aethelstan asked.

"Being himself, from what I could gather," Osthryth replied, Berric before her. Not long until you no longer have to make small talk, Osthryth thought. "You know Uhtred and his moods, fairness never comes into it. He spoke to Uhtred's woman. So I advised my son to go where he felt happiest. He chose Alba."

"I look forward to getting to know Alba better," he told Osthryth. "And I am leaving warriors here, on your border, for your protection."

"As you can see, I do have protection," Osthryth told Aethelstan. "Alba warriors come, and I have my own." She watched Aethelstan rake the guards who were waiting for her, Feilim and Uunst amongst them.

"A woman landowner can never have enough swords for her own - I know this from experience. And," Aethelstan turned his head to Osthryth, "You swore to me, that you would fight for me."

And it was true. Osthryth had. Which put her in direct conflict with Constantine.

So, as Finan nodded to Osthryth, waiting for her to acknowledge to him that all was well, Osthryth took the king inside her hall and he sat in her parlour as Osthryth reached down a box from beside the door.

In it, was a relic, and Osthryth took it from the box. "It belonged to my ancestor, or so it is said," she explained. "It is not a relic as in a saint's relic, but a manuscript, so fine that it was almost transparent." She held it out to Aethelstan.

"We called it the Lindisfarne poem, young Finan and I," Osthryth explained, and Aethelstan looked at the words, holding the page as if it had come from heaven itself.

"What is this word?" Aethelstan asked, pointing to the word, "Mecaud".

"Lndisfarne was called Mecaud by the Britons, and was a place for healing," Osthryth explained as Aethelstan examined the relic again. "If the Britons have any chance of surviving, they must join forces over the Britsh Islands."

There, Osthryth thought. It was not as if she hadn't told Aethelstan. But, predictably, the king laughed it off.

"If they were to do that, the lords could relax. No longer would they have to rely on their landlords for guidance to property rights, for example." He glanced out of Osthryth's hall window. "Barrows are used as boundary points - made at a time long before even the Romans were here - are respected by the Britons, mysterious as they are, it puts them at their ease, that they can more easily be put in touch with God." Then, Aethelstan whispered conspiratorially to Osthryth, "I have a mission to convert as many as I can find."

"Even the one standing before you?" Osthryth challenged him. "My mother was a Briton, and though I was baptised into the Roman church, I follow the Eireann one."

"Good, good," Aethelstan reassured her, handing Osthryth back the ancient manuscript. "I understand Eamont, and Cumbraland are claimed by you?"

"Not claimed, because they are mine, in law," clarified Osthryth, the irony of the situation, that Brehon law allowed her to have the land, and pass it on to Aedre, was the same she had fled from, nearly three years before.

"In Brehon law, which I do not recognise," Aethelstan sighed, not knowing how good it was to hear the king say that. "One day, I will visit Eireann, I will send people to live there and bring the Roman church to the land." Osthryth was shocked, and she felt her mouth fall open.

"Oh yes," Aethelstan pressed, watching Osthryth's face. "The Pope is a great believer that all should align - we met in Frankia, when I visited the Frankish king, Charles, which is why I have two of his nobles' sons with me as adopted children, for I will have none of my own, that they may learn of Brittanium, and its king's way of dong things."

"Its kings' way," Osthryth pointed out. "Alba has its own king." And Osthryth handed back the artefact to Aethelstan. "Someone made this, someone important," she told him. "Here, the hand, the colours." She pointed to the illuminared letter. "It has survived all this time. I give it to you because I want it to be treasured, kept safe, by someone who appreciates the man's history. Because you are Mercian, and because Saint Oswald brings so much comfort to my people."

It was some time after that Osthryth realised Aethelstan was staring at her.

"You do love Mercia then?" Aethestan asked her.

"I do love Mercia. I bled for Mercia, I led men into battle in Mercia against her enemies."

"Her enemies are Alba and the Eireann Norse," Aethelstan told her. And told her of the incursions, in Eoforwic, into Snotengham, Leiceastre and demands on Cumbraland sand as far down as Derby for taxes, Alba soldiers ravaging the land, destroying and damaging, as the Danes had done in years by. "I can only imagine the uneasiness of knowing Constantine is north of you, that he could come to claim what he believes you owe him."

He smiled kindly to Osthryth. "Which is why I place my men on your land, for your protection. "For I have chosen the place at which I will do battle with Constantine."

And he told Osthryth that, as he marched north, Lichfield, Derby, Rotherham to Castleford, that between those two cities at Ryknild Street was a bottle neck. It was difficult to do much if they had happened to be stuck there, but a little further north, at Brimsworth where Aethelflaed established a burh, there was a wide flat hill, fifteen miles wide.

"And you know he will come there?" Osthryth asked, amazed that Aethelstan had it all planned.

"He will if I tempt him enough, if I anger him enough," Aethelstan replied, happily. "Does it surprise you that Alba comes south? In the past, men of Pictland, Strathclyde, Cornwall, Dublinmen, Irish, Anglesey and the free Welsh, drove against the Saxons at Cair Wair - to Mercia and Wessex, penning them in, in order to free the native Britons. So you see why I want to prevent this for our people."

"Yes," Osthryth nodded. "Bishop Oswald told me the same story." Whether at Brimsworth or somewhere else, there was going to be a battle coming, one where Mercia and Wessex would face Alba. And it was only when Aeswi came to see her that the extent of Constantine's hostilities came to the fore.

"Can I count on your support, Lady of Berric, of Saxon blood, in the land of Bernicia, her Angle forebears?"

That was Aethelstan's question as he left, Finan not far behind her.

It was funny, because although Osthryth had thought she had decided where she stood, in relation to Alba and Northumbria, Aethelstan's visit had changed her

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And within a week, Guthfrith, still claimant to Eoforwic, supported now by Constantine, also came to visit Osthryth. She was preparing, again, for the lambing season, and all of her people were up day and night saving as many as they could.

Guthfrith was alone, as he had been the first time he had visited Osthryth.

"Your land is doing well," he told her, as Beann came to alert Osthryth to a visitor. "You are missed in Alba."

"Tell me, is Aedre, my adopted daughter, well?"

"She is," Guthfrith told Osthryth, "And on her way with her second child."

"Second child?" echoed Osthryth, as Finan took her shoulder. "When did she have her first?"

"Some time before," Guthfrith told her, vaguely, and Osthryth calculated it must have been after she had fled Dunnottar, so a year later? And now another? A pang of pain crossed her chest that she hadn't been there, although Ealasaid would be, surely, to help her through it, especially as Aedre was no longer a young woman.

"Your brother does not support Aethelstan," Guthfrith told Osthryth, "Although he does not support me either, in claiming he wants an independent Northumbria." He bent his head to Osthryth. "Will you send men?"

"Why?" Osthryth bit back. "To desert my land and have Constantine or Aethelstan take it?" Guthfrith's face fell.

"You want an independent Northumbria, yet you will not support my claim, even though it is backed by Constantine, with his men this time. I will take Jorvik; it is weak under the Saxons and Bishop Wulfstan gives his full support to me as Sygtryggr's kin."

"Wulfstan just does not want to turn to the church in Canterbury," Osthryth told Guthfrith. "He would claim the Irish church back if it mean he could keep his own autonomy and no, Guthfrith, though I support your claim, I do, in my heart, I do not wish to see Aethelstan take this land."

Nor Constantine, either. For, as Guthfrith described the support he enjoyed, it sounded remarkably similar to the story Aethelstan had given to her. Egil, so she understood from Beann, who had spoken to young Uhtred, had bought a boat and had sailed it down the Consett and into the North Sea in order to get to Eoforwic, whether to support Aethelstan or Guthfrith, she would not like to say. But to say that Uhtred supported no-one was underestimating her brother.

And Guthfrith went on to tell Osthryth that Uhtred had also been supporting Harald Finehair's claim to Eoforwic. "So in any event, he does not want Aethelstan to be king there," Guthfrith concluded. But it did not sway Osthryth from her path of neutrality. Though she had told Aethelstan she supported him, she would not leave Berric, nor commit any of her men, because no-one, when push would come to shove, would support their interests, which were to live peacefully, and get on with their lives.

"I am glad my niece and nephew are being well cared for," Guthfrith said, wistfully, before he left. "I thank God daily that Constantine supports me, and my kin."

"God?" Osthryth asked.

"Yes," Guthfrith laughed, smiling at her astonishment. "Does it surprise you? Many Norse are Christian now." And it was true. Many came to the church at Ad Gefrin, and Berric, and travelled north to Melrose to the abbey.

And within days of Guthfrith leaving, Aeswi came to Osthryth, fleeing from Eoforwic with news that Guthfrith, with the aid of Constantine's army and navy, was king of the city, ordained, blessed and anointed by Bishop Wulfstan and that the Englaland army of Saxons, Angles, West Saxons, Mercians and Cymric had been defeated.

"Aethelstan will be coming north again, to harry Dunnottar," Aeswi told her, which was what Constantine believed. And he told her to remain as safe as she could, and defend herself and her land, before leaving in haste towards the Tuide.

It was the last time Osthryth was to see Aeswi alive. But his message was clear. War was inevitable. She was going to have to choose which on side she was going to fight: Constantine, the man who she was bonded to, and in whose castle she had spent her life, where her family now lived, where her son now sought refuge.

Or Aethelstan, claiming the peace and stability that he was winning across the land, his grandfather's vision made real, playing the long game.

Osthryth was going to have to choose quickly. That night, she told Finan he should leave, to be with Uhtred. "It will make me happy knowing you are safe, with my brother," she told him, words with a speck of truth in them, in the end.

And the next morning, Osthryth kissed Finan goodbye, not knowing when she would see her husband again, or if she would ever see him again, and waited until he was out of sight before going back into her hall, and standing in their room, looking around, steadying her mind, before considering everything, then making her plan.