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Athelstan's Mercy

The Anglo Saxon Chronicles Part IV

Athelstan's Mercy AD 931

I, Rhodri of Kernow, write this in remembrance of my patron, Bishop

Asser. The good man loved the House of Wessex all his days and was friend

and confidant to Ælfred, whom men now call the Great. Our King now is

Athelstan, may The Good Lord and the Saints keep him, and Bishop Asser

would have been full of joy to see it.

For surely there can have been few Kings his equal. Even Great Ælfred

had faults that none could overlook. Athelstan is a man without peer. His

appearance and demeanour are all regal and he has the love of all his

people like none before him. Lest I be accused of courting favour, let it

be known that I am a Briton of the West, not a Saxon. I have no great love

for the people who stole our land these many years past. Nonetheless, I

own Athelstan as my King.

I recall the King as a boy at his grandfather's knee. I had him in my

charge for lessons. He was a beautiful child with hair like gold and eyes

the grey of the winter sea. I remember him being sent into Mercia for

protection. Many thought his father, the late King, sought his death from

jealousy but I know not. Now that Edward is dead he does not want for

detractors.

Just this past year King Athelstan came here to Mældubesburg. Although

many years have passed, he knew me still and cried aloud for joy at seeing

his old teacher. He has grown into a handsome man with flaxen hair - still

shot through with the gold of his childhood. Although not much above

middling height, his presence fills any room. He is soft-spoken, for a

Saxon.

This tale I now recount was told to me by old Hereward of Middletun. He

is nearly four score years now but still has a silver tongue when he minds

to use it. I have had this story, too, from other men. It is so true of

the King that no man should doubt it. I say this, even if it be a sin; it

is good to write of the matters of men once in a while. May God forgive

me, but the Lives of saints can be tedious work for the son of a bard!

Rhodri op Kernow In the Year of Grace Nine Hundred and Thirty One

Author's Note: Athelstan's Mercy

Athelstan is perhaps the most obscure of the old Saxon Kings. Even his

origins are shrouded in mystery. He was the son of Edward the Elder,

grandson of Ælfred the Great but his mother's identity is not known. She

is described simply as a 'woman of Mercia'. The implication is clearly

that she was not of any special significance and she died soon after

Athelstan's birth.

There is a tradition that Ælfred intended Athelstan as his heir but the

boy was only six years old when Ælfred died. Edward married after

Athelstan's birth and produced a number of legitimate children. All of

these were still minors at the time of Edward's death in 924 AD. Athelstan

was elected King with the help of considerable Mercian support. He had

been raised in Mercia following an attempt to blind him as a child and his

Mercian mother ensured his popularity in that country.

Athelstan never married and, as far as we know, remained deliberately

celibate to ensure that there was no dispute over the succession after his

death. We are told that he only agreed to become King on the understanding

that he was seen as holding the Country upon trust for his half-brothers,

Edward's legitimate heirs. We cannot judge how true this is but it is

clear that the succession was undisputed on his death and this was

remarkable in Saxon times.

During his reign, he achieved total dominance over all of Britain. Both

the Scots and Welsh Kings acknowledged him as overlord. There were still

challenges to face in the shape of Scandinavian invaders but Athelstan went

to great lengths to ensure that the Danelaw was fully integrated into the

Kingdom and his Danish subjects fought at his side.

Athelstan's abhorrence of the death penalty is well recorded. One of

the last of his laws passed before his death in 940 AD specifically forbade

the execution of anyone under the age of sixteen. He also freely pardoned

any criminals that repented and showed themselves willing to make amends.

One very unusual aspect of his reign was his habit of moving the King's

Court around the Country. He held meetings as far apart as Exeter and York

and does not seem to have held Court in the same town any two years

running.

Finally, a word about place names: Mældubesburg is Malmesbury, where

Athelstan is buried. Grantanbrycg is modern day Cambridge and Colneceaster

is Colchester in Essex.

Athelstan is, of course, an historical character. All the rest, and

this entire story, are my own imaginings



Athelstan's Mercy AD 931



This was to be the last year that Hereward of Middletun would take his

place among the Witan, the King's Council. He was almost seventy-seven and

although still spry, Athelstan's habit of moving the Council from one town

to another was proving too much for the old man. Hereward had served three

Kings now and he would plainly own that Athelstan was the easiest of the

three to get along with. He had worshipped Ælfred, done his duty by Edward

but he actually liked Athelstan, both as a man and a King.

This new King had none of Edward's arrogance nor had he Ælfred's

impetuosity. Athelstan was warm, human, energetic and yet considered in

his actions. 'If only he would stay in one place,' Hereward mused, 'I

could serve him yet.' Athelstan, however, could not stay in one place. He

would say it was his duty to bring the King to the people and not, as had

been customary, for the people to attend the King. In this year of 931,

the Witan had met at Wiltun, Kinges Wortig and, now, at Colneceaster in the

Danelaw. Until Athelstan had taken the throne, it was unheard of for a

Saxon King to enter Danelaw without an army at his back. Now the King was

here together with the Witan and it promised to be an interesting session.

Athelstan intended to allow the Danish part of his Kingdom to follow

their own laws and customs. He would not try to impose Saxon ways on the

people beyond basic principles. The Danes had their own Moot, which they

called a 'Vapnatak'. It was in the King's mind to see local government

executed through these gatherings. Already in the seven years since

Athelstan had come to the throne, the Danes of Danelaw regarded themselves

as his subjects and he, in his turn, had admitted Danish Jarls to the

Witan. There only remained the matter of the blood feud.

men have said that was Athelstan was womanish in his law-making. Blood

feuds had been outlawed in Saxon England. The Danes clung hard to this

practice. If a man were to be killed, it was a sacred duty for his kin to

avenge him. This led, in turn, to more killing. Hereward once said that

it was not the killing that the offended Athelstan but the futility.

Whatever the reason, the King's face was set against the ancient practice

so when a young Dane was called before the King's Court, charged with

pursuing a blood feud, everyone waited with bated breath to see what the

King would do.

The accused was one Thori, a youth of some fifteen years from the Burgh

of Grantanbrycg. The Court was full as the slim lad was marched in, almost

hidden between four of the Thegn's men. The King's Magister was presiding

and the case against young Thori was an easy one to judge. He didn't even

deny that he had killed two Saxons, men of the same Thegn of Grantanbrycg.

There was much chattering in the crowd as they debated whether the guilty

man would die by hanging or stoning. No-one doubted that die he would. A

sudden hush spread through the Hall. Athelstan had entered. He took a

seat on a side bench without ceremony and settled down to listen with the

rest.

The Magister was overcome with confusion. His place in Law was as the

King's representative; yet here was the King himself, come to see his

justice dispensed. The Magister's courage forsook him and he turned in

deference to Athelstan.

"My Lord, you have come at an opportune time. I was just about to

sentence this rascal to be stoned. Much better he should hear his doom

from your lips."

Athelstan arched a brow and rose. His appearance at this time was not

accidental. He meant to use the opportunity to make it plain to all that

the time of the blood feud was long past. "I will try the case, " he said

and motioned to the Magister to step aside so that the King might take his

place at the bench. All stood in honour of the King but Athelstan waved

them away with a smile. He turned to the Thegn who had brought the charge.

"Shall we begin again?"

"As My Lord pleases."

"Just so. We will hear the evidence."

It was swiftly done. The Thegn's men recounted how the two dead men had

accidentally killed a young Danish girl while out hunting. Such accidents

happened and no malice or blame was found to attach to the hunters. Thori

had refused to accept the verdict of his Thegn and sought out the men and

killed them brutally and in coward's fashion, slaying them in their sleep.

The young Dane remained silent. If anything he looked bored with the tale,

having heard it so many times before. Athelstan, too, remained silent. He

watched the speakers attentively and nodded encouragement for them to

continue if they faltered. He appeared to pay no attention to Thori

whatsoever. The Dane expected no more. He had heard the truth twisted and

his honour slandered so many times now he had given up hope of better.

It was not that he was resigned to his fate. He admitted killing the

men; was proud he had done so. Siggerith would rest easier knowing her

killers had not survived her long. He had not expected justice from the

Saxons. His Thegn was one of the old King Edward's men, put in place to

keep the peace and remind the vanquished of the King's victories. Even

Thori's own people chose to believe the calumnies. If he did not quite

feel despair, he harboured a fatalistic resentment and cynicism. He was to

die. What more was there to talk about?

As the story wound to its conclusion Athelstan turned at last to look at

the accused youth. Thori met the King's eyes defiantly. He was a warrior

and the son of warriors. Let them say he killed by night. He knew the

truth and he knew the justice of his cause. It was enough. It had to be

enough. He was taken aback to see curiosity in the steady, grey gaze where

he had expected condemnation.

"Thori of Grantanbrycg. You have heard the evidence of your Thegn and

his sworn men. What say you to this matter?"

Thori thought for a moment and then shrugged. There seemed little point

in argument. If the King sought to amuse himself by humbling a Dane, well,

he could look elsewhere for sport. The King seemed to have read his mind

for Athelstan smiled gently and, to his increasing wonderment, spoke to him

in Danish.

"Come, Thori. There must be more to this matter than meets the eye. I

cannot believe that a man would fight a blood feud for his honour's sake

and then kill so dishonourably. Much as I abhor the feud, I recognise its

roots lie deep within the soul of all true Danes."

The King then raised his voice and spoke again in Saxon to the Court.

"I am not satisfied with the evidence. Something strikes false in what

we have heard. The Court is adjourned until I discover more of this

matter. Bring Thori of Grantanbrycg to my rooms. We will have the truth

before we have a death!"

And with this the King rose and swept from the Hall, leaving those

behind to gape and chatter at the turn of events. Only the Thegn of

Grantanbrycg looked ill at ease.

When Thori was brought into the King's chamber he was surprised to find

Athelstan attended only by a priest and an old man. The King bade Thori be

seated and courteously introduced the old man as Hereward, Ealdorman of

Middletun and the priest as Fr Anselm, Athelstan's personal chaplain. Yet

again he spoke in Danish and the others, too, added their greetings in

Thori's own tongue. Thori was struck by how at ease they were in the

King's company. The old Thegn was sprawled on a low couch and even the

priest seemed relaxed and jovial.

"Now, " said Athelstan, "Perhaps you will be good enough to tell us here

what you would not say in Court? I am sure you have a tale of your own to

tell. I cannot promise you less than justice but be assured. It shall be

a King's justice. Beyond my writ you will doubtless answer to God but here

on Earth you will surely answer to me." Thori hesitated. The old man made

an encouraging motion with his hand. The priest, too, seemed eager to hear

his story, only cautioning him that if he lied to his King, he lied also to

his maker and would put his mortal soul in danger. With a shudder, Thori

began.

" My Lord, I am the fourth of my line to bear the name Thori and the

third to be born in this land. I am Thori Thorisson and live, as all now

know, in the Burgh of Grantanbrycg. At this New Year I was betrothed to

Siggerith the daughter of Aske, an old friend of my father's and a distant

kinsman. Alas, Aske died soon afterwards and as Siggerith was alone in the

world, my father welcomed her to our hearth. We were to wed this harvest,

when I shall be sixteen. Siggerith was my younger by but a few days so it

was time enough for us both.

"Some six weeks since, Siggerith was foully raped and murdered by two of

the Thegn's men. I faced these men and killed them. Not, as they claim,

in the coward's way but face-to-face and together. I used my father's

dagger for I have none of my own beyond a belt-knife for the table. My

Lord, it was not a blood feud but rather that Siggerith was denied justice.

Her killers walked free, claiming a hunting accident. I saw the blood on

her thighs. I saw the old arrow pushed into the knife wound to disguise

the manner of her death. I went to the Thegn but he would not see me. I

went to the Reeve but he sent me away. No one would help us, My Lord. I

could not let the lie stand. I killed the murderers. I regret nothing

save Siggerith's death. I loved her, you see."

Thori fell silent and the others could see the tears glistening in his

eyes as he strove to master himself. Athelstan regarded the youth with a

blank face. Whatever emotion the King was feeling was disguised by his

wooden look. Not so Hereward, who was beside himself.

"By Cuthbert's Sainted Bones! My Lord, I know something of this boy's

heart. My own betrothed was abducted by Mad Ivar. I swore vengeance on

him and all his kin and had Great Ælfred's support in the enterprise. The

lad is right. This wasn't blood feud but the search for justice!"

Athelstan smiled. "Hereward, I know your story - who does not. It was

a thing of the stuff of sagas. But even you know that vengeance and

justice are not one and the same. Does not the Bible tell us that

vengeance is the province of God?" Fr Anselm nodded vigorously and

recounted the verses in Latin until silenced by a look from Athelstan. The

King turned again to Thori.

"There is much here for us to contemplate. Your tale puts matters in

different odour but still I would know more. Did you witness the murder or

the rape you claim?"

Thori shook his head unhappily. "No, My Lord. I believe there were

those who did among the Thegn's men but none will speak for fear of their

master. All in Grantanbrycg know that Siggerith was murdered but none dare

say so. Even my father counselled caution and he loved her well. I am the

last of his children living and his heir. He did not want me endangered;

however much he wished himself for justice."

Athelstan nodded understanding and dismissed Thori with the promise that

he would investigate further before reconvening the Court. After the

Danish youth had left, Athelstan turned to his companions.

"What do you think, Hereward? You know these people as well as any man.

Is he telling the truth?"

"I believe he is, My Lord, at least as far as he knows it."

"What do you mean, old friend?"

"There is something in this matter that makes me uneasy. If things

happened as young Thori believes, I don't see the Thegn allowing his men to

get off scot-free. At very least, even with an accident, there should have

been an offer of wergild. And Thori does not strike me as a man who would

pursue a blood feud if the girl had died through sheer mischance.

Something is wrong here, Sire. I don't wish to cry 'stinking fish' but I

like it not at all."

Athelstan nodded and turned to Fr Anselm. The priest had been silent

throughout the interview with Thori and now he looked deep in thought.

" I agree with Hereward, My Lord. Some men have the guile to appear

what they are not. I don't count Thori Thorisson among them. I take him

to be a straight-forward sort of lad; proud of his people and jealous of

their honour. Unless I'm much mistaken, I cannot see him killing by

stealth in the night."

The King nodded solemnly. "I agree with you both," he said. "Now it

only remains to decide what we shall do about it."

The three of them discussed the affair for some time. Eventually it was

decided that Hereward would talk further to Thori while Fr Anselm would

ride to Grantanbrycg and ask questions of the folk there, including the

priests. In the meant time, Athelstan would adjourn the case for a week,

pending the outcome of the investigations.

Two days later Hereward visited Thori. The accused had been lodged at

the monastery, locked in a rough penitent's cell with a guard placed on the

door. Hereward waved the guard away and entered. He was struck at once by

the bleak and cynical look in Thori's eyes. Easing himself down onto the

low, hard cot, Hereward smiled. He stretched and yawned mightily and then

asked the boy in fluent, but accented, Danish:

"Not quite a Thegn's Hall, is it?"

"You would know, Lord, not I."

Hereward laughed aloud. "True, boy," he said. "True indeed. Forgive

an old man's curiosity but I would know more of you and Siggerith."

"Why?"

"Call it a feeling, call it a whim, if you will. Let me first tell you

my own story - the one about me and my Elfgirda and Mad Ivar - the one men
called the Boneless. Perhaps you will see that we are not so different

after all."

Thori shrugged as if it was a matter of total indifference to him.

Hereward, undaunted, began his tale. He had not earned the name 'Hereward

Silver-tongue' for nothing and it wasn't long before Thori was caught up in

the story of the abduction and rescue of Elfgirda all those years ago.

When Hereward had reached the climactic scene - the death of Ivar,

swordless and drowning in the fen - Thori's eyes were shining. This was,

just as the King had said, the stuff of sagas. Hereward finished his tale
and turned his twinkling eyes on Thori.

"So you see, my boy, that I was much of an age with you when all this

took place. I was not always a greybeard with a creaking back. So you

tell me now of Siggerith."

" Well, Lord, where should I start?"

"I've always found the beginning to be a good place. How came you to

know the maid?"

"I was ten years old. My father has a small farm outside the Burgh. He

sent me into the town to take a message to his old friend Aske. I can

remember it still - it was drilled into me until I was word perfect.

'Thori Thorisson - that's my father's name too - desires the company of

Aske Ericsson at his home. We wish to celebrate my wife's name-day and no

feast would be complete without so old and true a friend.' Well, I gave

Aske the message and he smiled and took me into his house and fed me

oatcakes. He introduced his only child, a daughter named Siggerith. His

wife died some years before so there were just the two of them. Even then,

at ten years, she was as pretty a lass as I ever saw. Her hair was red and

her eyes green and her skin, sir, it was like, well, new milk. I sat there

all tongue-tied and they teased me that I couldn't talk unless I had conned

my speech beforehand. I felt myself burning with embarrassment to be such

a loon before these people, but they were not unkind, you understand, just

chaffing me.

"My mother's name-day came and Aske and Siggerith arrived at our farm.

The adults were soon chatting as old friends do and I was told to take

Siggerith out to the barn to show her a newborn calf. I did so gladly but

was still shy in her company. She was easy with me, though, and it wasn't

too long before we were playing together as if we had been friends all our

lives. I took her down to the woods to show her a squirrel's drey and we

watched the tiny red kittens take their first steps along the branches. I

can remember the mother squirrel scolding them when they failed to follow

her. She was chattering away like an old fishwife and it made us laugh.

"Have you noticed, sir, that when you share laughter with someone, it

sort of brings you closer together? I think it does anyway. Well, that's

how it started. After that I was always looking for an excuse to go the

Grantanbrycg and Siggerith found reasons to visit the farm. Our parents
never said anything at the time but we learned that they were pleased.

This was what they had all hoped for but had left it up to the two of us.

Well, sir, as you know, things start to change soon after the age of ten.

It happened with Siggerith first. I used to tease her that her bum was

spreading and soon she was more woman than girl, if you know what I mean.

For a little while we grew apart a bit. I was still a child and she was

something more; but I grew to match her and we began to see each other

differently."

Hereward realised that the boy was no longer talking to him but simply

remembering out loud. He stopped making any replies and watched Thori's

eyes. They were open but did not see the crude surroundings or the rough

stone walls. They were focussed on an earlier, happier time. Hereward

knew the boy spoke from the heart. There was much in Thori's tale that

reminded him of his own youth and wooing of Elfgirda. 'I see no falsehood

in this lad,' he thought. 'If the rest of the tale's as true, we will yet

serve the King's justice.' Thori, for his part, was unaware of the old
Saxon's scrutiny. He was lost in memory, bittersweet though it was.

"By the time we were both fourteen, we had an understanding. Siggerith

was still more forward in certain ways than I was. I was almost more

interested in my weapon training than I was in women. It struck me odd

that she would want to kiss and touch as much as she did. I found it

pleasant enough but it stirred strange feelings in me that I couldn't put a

name to at the time. I found these feelings a bit disturbing, frightening

maybe. Of course I knew how mating happened. I'm a farm boy. I'd led the

bull to the heifers often enough. Somehow I didn't connect any of that

with the way I was feeling; at least not at first.

"One day we were out gathering blackberries for my mother and stopped in

the woods to rest a while. Like always at those times, Siggerith would

slide over and sit beside me, her head on my shoulder. This time, when she

kissed me, it was full on the mouth and her tongue pressed against my mouth

and slipped between my lips. She was most fierce in her kissing then and

I, still much of a boy, knew not how to act. She took my hand and put it

on her breast and made a small noise, deep in her throat. I found myself

getting hard then, like I do sometimes at night, and the feel of her breast
and the touch of her lips was driving me mad. I had the urge to do

something else but didn't know what. Siggerith did, though; she unlaced

her bodice and pushed my hand inside so now I could feel her breast against

my palm, with no clothing in between.

"In all my life I never felt anything so perfect. It was like magic.

It was soft and warm and yet firm at the same time. Her little nubs grew

hard under my touch and I divined that this was the centre of her pleasure

for she grew wilder when I rubbed them. I swear I could have died for joy

right there. She filled me up. I can't say it better. I thought my soul

had flown away to heaven.

"I must have been like a mooncalf to her for all I could do was grasp

her and swear I loved her. My tool was fit to burst my breeches, and I was

amazed when she seized me there and I think I groaned aloud. Before I knew

it, my breeches were down and she was stroking me. It was only a few brief

moments before I spent myself. This seemed to please her mightily and she

said it was enough for the nonce but she would show me true happiness once

we were wed. I tell you, Lord, that I don't think I could have been more

happy then at that moment. I bent and kissed her breasts but she stopped

me after a brief time and said that we should return to our blackberrying.

"After that, we would contrive to repeat the adventure whenever we had

the chance. Once she took me in her mouth and jumped away in surprise when

I spurted. My seed was in her hair and on her face but she just laughed

and said and she needed to practice. Once she let me touch her sex and

shuddered and moaned and carried on so that I thought I had hurt her.

Again she laughed at my discomfort and bade me wait 'til we were wed so she

could show me all her mysteries. One thing I swear by the Blessed Virgin,

all the Saints and the honour of my kin, Lord. In all our time together

she remained a maiden. I loved her far to much to do her any dishonour."

Hereward watched as Thori's mind slowly returned to the present. There

were tears in the boy's eyes and he turned his face away to hide his shame.

Hereward sighed. "Don't fret, lad, it's clear you loved her deeply. There

is no shame in such sorrow." He paused. "Now tell me how she came to die."

"As I told the King, Lord, we were betrothed at the New Year. We Danes

still believe that this is a lucky time, but it wasn't for us. Soon after,

Aske died and Siggerith came to live under our roof. Of course, she was

much saddened by her father's death but found respite with my family. She

had never known her mother well and she and my mother grew close, as women

will.

"One day, at the end of the third month, she went into the Burgh to take

a basket of eggs to the market. She left as soon as it was light. It's

not far from our farm to Grantanbrycg so she planned to be there for the

market's opening. Most times my mother went; but she was helping my father
and I with the lambing that day so Siggerith went in her stead. We were

busy all day with a difficult ewe and did not notice that Siggerith had not

returned until late afternoon. I set off to meet her. I was sure she

would be on her way back by then. I suppose we thought that the market had

been slow for most times we would have sold the eggs by noon.

"Anyway, I found her just as the road entered the woods on the

Grantanbrycg side. She was lying beside the track. Two men were bent over

her. I ran up and they jumped away from her. There was an arrow in her

neck and she was dead. The men began to tell me that it was an accident.

They said they had shot at a hare and, by great mischance, Siggerith

stepped into the arrow's path. I've spent my life in those parts, sir, but

I've never seen a hare in woodland. Oh, there are hares a-plenty in the

fields but none in the woods that I know. I was too shocked to think such

at the time, you understand. This came to me later, after we had borne her

body home.

"I went to fetch a priest while my mother prepared her body for the

winding sheet. It was my mother who discovered the blood on her thighs.

At first she thought it was just Eve's curse but then she saw that

Siggerith was torn and bruised. It was clear as daylight, sir, my mother
said, that Siggerith had been ill-used. There was more. When the arrow

was withdrawn, you could see it was old and the shaft was warped. What

hunter would use such? And the wound, sir, it was not a hole, such as an

arrow might make but thinner, longer. My father swears it was a dagger

thrust that caused it. We went to the Thegn next day and told him all. He

waved us away.

"I brooded on these things for some days and decided I would have things

out with the men who killed her. I took my father's long knife, we don't

own a proper sword, sir, and went to Grantanbrycg. It was late in the day

when I found them. I demanded the truth of her death but they laughed at

me. I said I knew they had raped and murdered my Siggerith and told they

would die for it. They spat in my face and called me 'Danish filth'. One

said I should ever regret not having had such a tasty morsel for myself. I

pulled out my knife and we fought. They must have thought me just a farm
boy for one cried to the other "You take him." I am a warrior, sir and the

son of warriors. I was taught well; better than them, as it turned out.

"I killed him then. It was done too quick for my heart but it was done.

I fought the other. He, too, I killed. At first I rejoiced; but it didn't

bring Siggerith back. The Thegn's men took me then. They gave out that I

had crept into the hall and slain the men in their sleep. Next they

claimed that I had been following the blood feud. They branded me a coward

and brought me before the Court. The rest you know, sir."

Hereward nodded. He had much to think about. He didn't doubt a word of

Thori's story. He knew the Danes well and knew that honour stood above all

else with them. They could be brutal in war but so could his own people.

War was war but murder, especially of a young girl, was something he could

not countenance. He said farewell and rose, stiffly from the cot. "I can

promise nothing, lad, save I will tell the King all you have told me. We

must now await Fr Anselm. Be sure, however, the King will not rush to

judgement in this or any matter. The man is in love with the truth and has

no liking for injustice."

Fr Anselm returned at dusk two days later. After he had refreshed

himself, he went to the King's chambers to meet again with Athelstan and

Hereward. The latter recounted the substance of the story he had had from

Thori and then the King turned to Fr Anselm. "And what of your

investigations? Can you shed more light upon this dark matter?" The priest

nodded vigorously. He was a small, spare man and always put Hereward in

mind of a cock sparrow with his quick, jerky movements.

"Indeed, My Lord, I believe I can. I sought out the priest who attended

the Thorisson farm to shrive the body of the girl. He confirms there was

much anger and they were insisting that the girl had been stabbed and not

killed with an arrow. The man himself would not swear to it as he claimed

no great knowledge of wounds but he did say they were most convincing.

"I spoke to many folk who had been in the market that day, both Danes

and Saxons. Almost all remembered the girl selling eggs. From three I had

an interesting tale. When she had done, which they claim was just before

noon, she was approached by some of the Thegn's men. My witnesses did not

hear what was said but all claimed they saw her leave with these men and

that she appeared to go willingly. They also thought she looked fearful.

"There was better to come, My Lord. I found a carter who was travelling

towards Grantanbrycg late that very afternoon. He remembers meeting two

men on horseback who made great show of telling him they were out hunting.

One had a large bundle slung over his saddle. The carter thought it

strange to be going out so late in the day on horseback as this suggested a

journey of some miles. He also said he passed no one else before reaching

the Burgh. He should have encountered the maid, Siggerith, if the evidence

given was true. I have commanded all these witnesses, in your name, Sire,

to appear before the Court two days from now."

Athelstan smiled. "You have truly surpassed yourself, Anselm." Hereward

added his own approbation and Anselm positively glowed with pleasure. The

King now looked serious and called for ink and parchment. "Let us now

consider what we know, " he said. He made some brief notes and then began

to speak anew.

"The girl Siggerith was, at least by Thori's reckoning, something of a

beauty. She was also somewhat playful and aware of, what shall we say,

Anselm, the pleasures of the flesh? However, we have Thori's word that

that she was a maiden. She is seen selling eggs at the market and then

leaving with the Thegn's men; somewhat affeared but not resisting. What

does that suggest to you, Hereward?"

"That she was summoned by someone important, My Lord?"

"Quite so. Now who in Grantanbrycg would be considered important?"

"My guess would be the Thegn himself, Sire, or someone close to him."

"My thoughts exactly. What do we know of this Thegn?"

"He was placed by your father, My Lord, about a dozen years since. He

is said to be no lover of Danes but I have heard little else about him.

What says the Church, Anselm?"

"Much the same. He has three sons and a daughter living. His wife is

devout but the man himself makes the customary observance and nothing more.

There's little else to add save rumours of a bastard or two, but that's not

uncommon."

"How true. No, spare yourself Anselm, I took no slight. The world

knows my lineage, for good or ill. It is hardly the fault of the child if

the mother is unwed. So to business. We have the evidence of the carter.

A sober man, would you say, Anselm?"

"Aye, My Lord. And not a native of those parts so he has no reason to

hold to any faction in this matter."

"Better and better. What shall we do then, my friends? Shall we summon

the Thegn for his account here and now or wait on him in Court? I think we

should hear him first, as we heard Thori, in discretion. What say you?"

The two agreed and the Thegn was summoned before the King. Athelstan

recounted all that had been learned. As the King spoke, Hereward pretended

to be nodding off to sleep but he watched the Thegn's face intently for the

effect of the King's words. They were not prepared for the reaction that

came however. The Thegn of Grantanbrycg flung himself to his knees at the

King's feet.

"My Lord!" He cried. "I can hide the truth no longer. I killed the

Danish girl. I swear I never meant it."

"Go on," said Athelstan and his voice was chill.

"It happened thus, My Lord. I saw her in the market. She was

beautiful, Lord and I was consumed with lust. I had to have her. I sent

my men to summon her. When they brought her to me I saw she was younger

than I'd thought. Still, my mind was clouded with evil and I offered her

gold if she would lie with me. She replied prettily. She swore she was a

maiden and betrothed to some uncouth ploughboy. She begged my indulgence

and made as if to leave. I took her then by force. She spoke true; she

was indeed a maid. When the madness left me, I repented. I offered her

more gold; she threw it from her as if it were ordure. I knew, then, she

would cry rape. To my eternal shame, I killed her. I told two of my men
to get rid of the body; to take it to the woods and make it look like a

hunting accident. The rest you know."

Athelstan's face was a mask. Hereward could feel the anger burning in

the King and Anselm was knelt in prayer for the soul of the murdered girl.

There was a long moment's silence in the room before the King spoke again

in a calm, quiet voice. "You will come before the Court two days from now

and recount again what you have told me here," he said. The Thegn bowed

himself out and the three remaining men looked at each other. "It seems we

had the right of it, Sire," said Hereward, "Yes," The King replied.

"More's the pity.

The Court convened again on the appointed day. The Great Hall was

packed for all had come to hear the King's judgement. Thori stood, as

before, accused. There was much murmuring when Athelstan summoned the

Thegn of Grantanbrycg.

All were silent when they heard the Thegn confess. The nobleman wept

openly as he recounted his tale. When he was done he turned to Thori and

begged his forgiveness. "I have doubly wronged you, young man," he said.

"I took from you your betrothed and sought to hide my crime. I would have

taken your life also, had not the King intervened. I thank God, at least,

that I was spared this second crime."

Thori looked stunned by all that he heard. At length he sank to his

knees. "My Lord," he said. "I have committed murder. The men I slew were

not responsible for Siggerith's death. I killed them unknowing, Lord, but

I killed them just the same. This man," he gestured to the Thegn, "took

from me the woman I loved and would have wed. I took two men's lives for

what I foolishly called justice. We are both murderers."

Athelstan stood and raised a hand for silence, for a hubbub had broken

out at Thori's words.

"This is now my judgement. Thori Thorisson, you are guilty of murder

although you did not have a guilty mind. You will pay wergild of two

hundred shillings to each of your victims' families. There is to be no

continuance of any blood feuds in this matter, on pain of death."

The King now turned to the Thegn.

"You committed rape and murder and would have murdered this boy too, by

false witness. Do you repent of your sins?"

The Thegn swore by all that is holy that he did repent, sincerely, and

would do anything in his power to make amends.

"You will pay wergild to Thori Thorisson of six hundred shillings for

the slaying of the maid Siggerith. It is my further command that you enter

a monastery and do penance for her rape and murder by saying a mass every

day for her departed soul until the day you die."

The King then addressed the host. "There has been too much killing

here. I can see no purpose in more death. This is my judgement and this is

my justice. Will any here gainsay me?"

There was silence until a shout of assent was heard from Hereward. All

assembled took up the cry in praise of Athelstan's mercy.

Later that evening, Hereward and Anselm were once more attending the

King. Athelstan was in expansive mood and the conversation ranged hither

and thither before returning to the day's events.

"What do you think of my judgement? Truth now, there is none to hear

but us."

"Well, sire," said Anselm. "It would have served nobody to have killed

the boy and as for the Thegn, God has a new servant that he was not

expecting." Hereward nodded agreement. "It has always struck me as a pity

when youngsters are put to death. So much living wasted!" Athelstan smiled

at the old man. "Hereward," he said, "I couldn't have put it better. Do

you know, I've a mind to make a law to prevent just such atrocity?"