Housecarl

Published by Griff Hosker
2013

Copyright © Sword Books Ltd
First Edition

Smashwords Edition

The author has asserted their
moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to
be identified as the author of this work.
 

All Rights reserved. No part of
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A CIP catalogue record for this
title is available from the British Library.

Cover from Wikipaedia

Fictional characters are in
italics
.

Name-Explanation

Aedgar-Earl of Mercia

aelfe-Saxon Elf

Aelfraed-Descendant of Alfred
the Great’s son

Aethelward-Aelfraed’s uncle

Alfred-King of Wessex

Branton-Osbert’s brother, an
archer

byrnie-Armoured coat

Catherick-Catterick North
Yorkshire

Cynan Ap Iago-Welsh prince

Danegeld-Bribe paid to Danes by
English kings in the 8
^th
-10
^th
centuries

Ealdgyth -Wife of Gruffyd

Eystein Orri-The fiancé of
Hadrada’s daughter

gammer-Old woman or mother

Gruffyd Ap Llewellyn-King of
Wales until 1064

Gruffydd Ap Cynan -The King who
succeeded Gruffyd

Gryffydd of Rhuddlan-Welsh
housecarl

Gytha-Relative of the Earl of
Hereford

Harald Hadrada-King of
Norway

Hetaireia-Imperial bodyguard of
the Byzantine Emperor

leat-An open stretch of water
close to a river

Jorvik-York

Legacaestir-Chester

Maeresea-River Mersey

Malcolm Canmore-King of
Scotland

Mara-Delamere forest
Cheshire

Medelai-Middleham North
Yorkshire

Osbert-Sergeant at arms of
Aelfraed

Osgar-Housecarl of the Earl

Oswald-Priest at Topcliffe

Persebrig-Piercebridge

Ridley-Housecarl of the Earl

strategos-A Byzantine
general

Sweyn-Leader of the
Housecarls

Thingman-Housecarls of the
English Royal family until 1051

Ulf-Housecarl

Wight-Spirit

Witenagemot -The council of
England who chose the king

Wolf-Housecarl of the Earl

wyrd-fate

Northumbria 1052 A.D

I cannot remember much about my
mother, Aethelgifu. It is said that I was her favourite which might
explain why my brothers hated me. I was called the runt, partly
because of my small size but mainly because I was born twelve years
after my brother Edward. I could not understand why my brothers
despised me so for my mother had died less than a year after my
birth and the two events seemed to be inextricably linked but I
could never understand my father’s antipathy towards me. It was
never the fierce hate and violence of my three brothers but it was,
at best, an indifference and, at worst, a vague disgust at my
existence.

I was largely brought up by my
grandmother, Aethelfled, but I always called her Nanna. She loved
me as fiercely as my brothers hated me and she protected me as much
as my father ignored me.  She was a lovely old lady, as round
as she was high and the oldest person I knew at that time. She had
a wonderful aroma about her which made me feel, somehow, both safe
and loved. It seemed to me that her arms were always around me like
a warm protective wall. For as long as I could remember I slept in
the bed and room with the gentle old lady who would send me to
sleep with stories of my ancestors for I was descended, so I was
told, from the youngest son of Alfred the King of Wessex who was
known as The Great. His grandson Aethelwine and his brother were
killed at the battle of Brannaburg seemingly without children but
Nanna told me that he had had a wife who had born him a son and we
were descended from that line.  My mother’s name and that of
my grandmother were the names of the daughters of Alfred and I had,
indeed been named after that king by my mother.  That,
perhaps, was another reason why my brothers and father felt the way
they did about me for I was the exception.  My father was
Edwin, my eldest brother, Egbert, my middle brother Edgar and my
third brother, Edward.  I was different.  I looked
different and I felt different from the rest of the family. When my
grandmother was not present my brothers would call me an aelfe, the
son of a Wight as though some spirit had inhabited my mother and I
was not of their blood.  When they spoke to me that way I
hoped that it was true for I felt no affiliation to the cruel
brothers who tortured me so.

Nanna taught me to read and that
too was a matter of dissention for my brothers could not and they
resented that I could do something which they could not. Although
we were nobility it was of a rural kind. My father’s family had
been awarded land when the people of Northumbria finally throw off
their Danish shackles and became their own masters. They were
called Thegns although before they had fought and defeated the
Danish overlords they had been warriors for hire. Given the land of
Medelai they were the guardians of the invasion route from the
north and owed their allegiance to Count Gilpatrick.  When my
father had met my mother she was living at the court of Edward who
became known as The Confessor when he ascended the English
throne.  In the years before the house of Wessex regained the
throne of England Edward’s court had been the centre of all things
English and my father had chosen his bride to give himself a little
more credibility and a link to the English crown.

All of this was told to me by my
grandmother who made sure that I knew of my connection to the
ancient royal house of Wessex.  She never, for one moment,
implied that I might become someone who would rule but she
instilled in me a belief that I should do all in my power to
support the house of Wessex. Harald Godwinson had even visited his
childhood friend, my mother after she had married my father and
this too afforded great honour on my family for all knew that
Harald was Edward’s heir and would become king.

The protection afforded to me by
my grandmother was only available within the confines of the wooden
hall in which we lived. Father spent much of his time down the road
at Jorvik and the court of Northumbria where he could plot and plan
with the other Thegns. The farm was managed by Oswin, the family
steward but he walked warily around my brothers, huge warriors who
strutted around armed to the teeth whenever father was away; which
was most of the time.   Once I was outside I was fair
game for my brothers.  Egbert and Edgar were warriors and,
fortunately rarely around but Edward, just twelve years older more
than made up for that.  He took great delight in hurting me
whenever he could; this was frequently in the form of violence but,
perhaps, even worse it was his words which hurt me the most for I
grew to shrug off the blows and smacks but the words drove
themselves insidiously into my soul. He called me a child of the
underworld whose spirit had bewitched and enchanted our
mother.  Despite my grandmother’s assurances that this was
nonsense my dreams were haunted by black and evil spirits which
woke me with the shrieks and cries which filled my head. I always
suffered powerful dreams throughout my life.  While Nanna was
alive I was comforted by her gentle touch and cooing words but once
she died my nightmares terrified me.

One day Edward found me outside
where I was playing at being a warrior with a stick. Seeing that I
was alone he stalked me and then attacked me from behind.  His
punches rained into my side and bloodied my nose.  When I
crawled, tearfully, back to my grandmother I saw from her shocked
expression how much he had hurt me.  For her this was the last
straw. It was many years later that I found out that my grandmother
had then sent for her son, my mother’s brother, Aethelward, to be a
protector for me. I did not know that she had seen her own imminent
death and had done the only thing she could, find someone to look
after me as she had, through the love of my mother.

I can still remember the day
Aethelward limped into the yard at the farm.  I was coming up
to seven years old and filling out. My uncle had the world weary
look of someone who has seen life and suffered but who could face
any adversity the fates threw at him. He dragged a left leg and
used a spear as a walking stick. The round shield at his back and
the sword hanging from his side marked him as a warrior and even my
brother Edward was impressed by his scars. His face showed that he
had been wounded in places other than his leg.  The scar
running from his mouth to his chin gave him a strange lopsided
grin.  In another man it might have given him the look of a
fool but the green eyes, which were the same colour as mine and my
grandmother’s glared out to defy anyone to comment adversely. It
was his eyes which made me love him for my eyes were the same
colour whilst my father’s and brothers were blue; it was another of
the many differences between us and had been a cause of many
comments.  I had begun to fear that Edward was right and I was
fey, for Edward had told me that green eyes were the mark of the
devil.  As soon as I saw my uncle I knew that this was a lie
and that was the beginning of my escape from the tyranny of my
brothers.

“This is the boy then? 
This is Aethelgifu’s son?”

“Aye and he needs you.”

I was too young then to
understand the nuances and subtleties of looks and gestures but I
saw a look exchanged between the two of them that I did not
recognise. He held me so that he could see my face. He stared
intently at me and his eyes widened as he looked beyond my face to
my grandmother.  She must have made some sort of sign for he
nodded, not at me, but her. “Now I am here we will make a man of
you.  I will make a warrior that will make my sister proud.
Aelfraed, you go and play outside.” He must have seen the look of
terror on my face for any place away from Nanna was a place of
danger; Edward and my brothers were about. It was not just those
who were the problem now for the servants felt they could treat me
with impunity.  The only ones who did not bother me were the
women and the slaves.  For the rest I was fair game and
amusement.

“He feels safe close to me.” I
did not see my grandmother’s face but she must have made a gesture
for my uncle left without a word. “You will be safe now
Aelfraed.  Your uncle is a mighty warrior who fought for the
king.  He was a Thingman and singers have written songs about
him.”

“Why does he walk funny?”

She smiled and held me close to
her.  “He was wounded and nearly died, my son, but now he is
here to look after you.”

The footsteps behind me told me
that my uncle had returned. “You can play outside now
Aelfraed.  No one will harm you and I will not be long. 
I just need to talk to your grandmother.”

Despite his reassuring words
when I emerged into the sun I felt as frightened as though I was
stepping into an enchanted forest at midnight. The first thing I
noticed was that Edward a red and flustered look.  Although he
was seventeen, his beard was slow to grow.  When it did it
would hide the red marks which I now saw.  He took one look at
me and then fled into the woods.  The others who were around
made themselves scarce leaving me with the yard to myself.  It
felt glorious. For the first time in my life I was unafraid and I
had all the buildings to explore.

It was when I was in the stable
that I first spoke to Ridley. He was younger than I was and the son
of Oswin the Steward.  I had seen him before but never had the
chance to speak with him.  He was the closest in age to myself
and the only one with whom I thought I could play.  I had
never had the chance before but now I boldly approached him. “Do
you want to play?”

He shrank back in fear. 
“You are an aelfe! Do not hurt me!”

“Who told you that?  It is
a lie!” I impulsively reached down to touch his arm and he recoiled
in horror.  “See, nothing has happened to you.  I am just
a boy.”

When his hand did not burn and
he did not turn into a frog he looked a little closer at me. “You
have green eyes.”

“So have my grandmother and my
uncle and my mother!”

He considered this information
and I could see the thought processes at work. Ridley always had
that habit, even as a man, it was as though you could see him
thinking. His brothers and sisters had died young and Oswin did not
bother much with him. He stood and walked towards me. He reached up
and touched my head running his hand gently down my face. “You seem
real but why did your brother tell me you were a Wight?”