Read Online I Am the Chosen King by Helen Hollick - Free Book Online
Authors: Helen Hollick
Ads: Link
place to meddle in the affairs of men.
The Hall grew hot and noisy as the feasting swung into the enjoyed consumption of good food and excellent wine. When stomachs were full, the trestle tables would be cleared and removed, benches shifted to the sides in preparation for the entertainment that always accompanied a feast.
Gytha, as head woman, poured wine for those seated at her husband’s high table. As she served, there was much laughter and shouting from the lower Hall, and she looked up to see two men stepping into the central space to begin a friendly wrestling match. The cheering rose to the high rafters of the timber roof and hung there with the hearth smoke and the wood-carved spirit faces. This was a Christian household, but no man dare build without seeking the added protection of the Old Ones. The King, Gytha noticed, was talking again to Godwine; this time their conversation seemed light, even jovial. Perhaps, the Countess thought, their differences were settled, any misunderstanding caused by Swegn’s foolishness set straight. Then she saw Edward lean slightly towards her husband, noticed a look of concern flash across Godwine’s face. What now? She glanced again and relaxed as Godwine began to smile.
“I am thinking of taking a wife,” Edward had stated blandly to the Earl.
Startled at this confidence, Godwine had momentarily found himself lost for words—but delight almost immediately suffused his features. “That is good news!” he enthused. “A wise choice could bring many an advantage to England.” A king needed an heir to his throne and England needed secure alliance. A wife was the means to both. Godwine’s alert political mind had already begun calculating, rapidly selecting and discarding suitable daughters, widows or sisters of emperors and kings.
A faint smile tipped the sides of Edward’s mouth; he knew Godwine well enough to guess at those busy thoughts! “I have already made my choice,” he stated. “I need to ensure that my back is shielded against treachery. With England secure from internal wrangling, we can outface anything Norway may throw at us.” He paused. “I am going to choose a wife from the family of one of my earls.” He watched, mischievously delighted as Godwine’s brows dipped warily. A marriage with Northumbria or Mercia would bring extreme difficulties for Godwine—perhaps even ruin him.
Robert had indeed suggested one of Siward’s kindred, or Leofric’s youngest…ah, Edward had been sorely tempted to follow his friend’s advice, to take the first step towards bringing Godwine to his knees!
“Siward’s daughters and nieces are not so fair to look upon, yet there must be something good to be said of them, surely?” Edward was finally beginning to enjoy himself. Satisfied at the pale look of horror that flickered across Godwine’s face, he added, “They may all have been bred in that uncivilised cesspit of the North, but one of them must have received an education, can read and write, and talk in an accent that is at least vaguely understandable.”
His anger at Swegn Godwinesson’s treachery, coupled with the impotence he felt in the face of his damned mother’s interference, had decided him in favour of Robert’s tentative suggestion. How disruptive to a king’s routine and way of life would it be to take a wife? He only need bed her once or twice to impregnate her; see her only when public protocol dictated—she could have her own apartments, even her own palace. Once he had fulfilled his husband’s duties he could hunt and pursue his reading and studies of God unhindered. And Robert, as his personal priest, would still be there to proffer comfort and understanding. Yes, the delight of putting a man such as Godwine back into place far outweighed the minor disadvantages of taking a wife.
“Alternatively, there is Leofric’s only surviving daughter,” Edward continued, immersed in his private enjoyment. “She is young, I grant, but that
The Hall grew hot and noisy as the feasting swung into the enjoyed consumption of good food and excellent wine. When stomachs were full, the trestle tables would be cleared and removed, benches shifted to the sides in preparation for the entertainment that always accompanied a feast.
Gytha, as head woman, poured wine for those seated at her husband’s high table. As she served, there was much laughter and shouting from the lower Hall, and she looked up to see two men stepping into the central space to begin a friendly wrestling match. The cheering rose to the high rafters of the timber roof and hung there with the hearth smoke and the wood-carved spirit faces. This was a Christian household, but no man dare build without seeking the added protection of the Old Ones. The King, Gytha noticed, was talking again to Godwine; this time their conversation seemed light, even jovial. Perhaps, the Countess thought, their differences were settled, any misunderstanding caused by Swegn’s foolishness set straight. Then she saw Edward lean slightly towards her husband, noticed a look of concern flash across Godwine’s face. What now? She glanced again and relaxed as Godwine began to smile.
“I am thinking of taking a wife,” Edward had stated blandly to the Earl.
Startled at this confidence, Godwine had momentarily found himself lost for words—but delight almost immediately suffused his features. “That is good news!” he enthused. “A wise choice could bring many an advantage to England.” A king needed an heir to his throne and England needed secure alliance. A wife was the means to both. Godwine’s alert political mind had already begun calculating, rapidly selecting and discarding suitable daughters, widows or sisters of emperors and kings.
A faint smile tipped the sides of Edward’s mouth; he knew Godwine well enough to guess at those busy thoughts! “I have already made my choice,” he stated. “I need to ensure that my back is shielded against treachery. With England secure from internal wrangling, we can outface anything Norway may throw at us.” He paused. “I am going to choose a wife from the family of one of my earls.” He watched, mischievously delighted as Godwine’s brows dipped warily. A marriage with Northumbria or Mercia would bring extreme difficulties for Godwine—perhaps even ruin him.
Robert had indeed suggested one of Siward’s kindred, or Leofric’s youngest…ah, Edward had been sorely tempted to follow his friend’s advice, to take the first step towards bringing Godwine to his knees!
“Siward’s daughters and nieces are not so fair to look upon, yet there must be something good to be said of them, surely?” Edward was finally beginning to enjoy himself. Satisfied at the pale look of horror that flickered across Godwine’s face, he added, “They may all have been bred in that uncivilised cesspit of the North, but one of them must have received an education, can read and write, and talk in an accent that is at least vaguely understandable.”
His anger at Swegn Godwinesson’s treachery, coupled with the impotence he felt in the face of his damned mother’s interference, had decided him in favour of Robert’s tentative suggestion. How disruptive to a king’s routine and way of life would it be to take a wife? He only need bed her once or twice to impregnate her; see her only when public protocol dictated—she could have her own apartments, even her own palace. Once he had fulfilled his husband’s duties he could hunt and pursue his reading and studies of God unhindered. And Robert, as his personal priest, would still be there to proffer comfort and understanding. Yes, the delight of putting a man such as Godwine back into place far outweighed the minor disadvantages of taking a wife.
“Alternatively, there is Leofric’s only surviving daughter,” Edward continued, immersed in his private enjoyment. “She is young, I grant, but that
Similar Books
