The Prisoner -- The Last Kingdom

Chapter 19

The next few days passed quickly. Erik was baptised immediately, with further reassurance from Uhtred that such things don't stick. A ceremony was held to confirm Aethelflaed the Lady of Mercia, conferring on her all the powers of a lord of the land. And then Erik and Aethelflaed were married in a short Christian ceremony, with a promise of a pagan wedding to be held in the future.

Though the summer months held their challenges–Aethelflaed had to set to work on all her plans for the Mercian ealdormen, lest she be accused of shirking her duties–each day ended with the two of them together. The house that had once been a battlefield, shaped by Aethelred's cruelty and Aethelflaed's stubbornness, was now a site of mirth and hard work. Erik was on his best behaviour, and soon he had charmed even the most Christian servants, though Marta remained hesitant. Under Wulfric's advice, Erik gave Marta her space as often as possible.

The one rough spot in Aethelflaed's new role was Aldhelm. He had not forgiven her for her choice of husband, and though he agreed to serve as her advisor, he was cold and curt in their interactions.

It wasn't until early September when Erik and Aldhelm were in the council chambers at the same time. Erik had kept busy through the summer. He had sent for his men in the north and arranged a messenger to Sigefrid in the east. He had made note of all the improvements that needed to be made to Aethelflaed's estate and was overseeing the work, some of which called for a certain carpenter. But when the business at hand concerned Danish traders, Aethelflaed insisted he join herself and Aldhelm.

Aldhelm would not sit down. He was hovering. It was a habit that Aethelflaed had once appreciated, as it had often thrown Aethelred off, serving as a distraction during arguments or gradually undermining the lord's comfort. But today it bothered Aethelflaed. Perhaps that was why Aldhelm did it–he knew the subtle power of his presence at the corner of her eye, just out of sight. It made her anxious and she tapped her fingers on the table. He must have enjoyed that.

"Aldhelm!" she said his name with the firm tone of a master calling its dog and she was met with a condescending smile.

"Yes, lady?"

"Will you please take a seat so we can discuss the trade issue?"

Aldhelm took his seat very slowly. "I did not want to impose, lady, since you have already called your own advisor."

"Erik is not an advisor, Aldhelm, he is the Lord of Mercia and our expert on all things Danish."

Aldhelm simply bowed his head in a show of deference that was anything but sincere. Aethelflaed tapped her fingers more nervously.

The afternoon passed like that, with Aldhelm finding little ways to insult Erik and annoy Aethelflaed. Erik was polite, at first, but he lost his patience. When the subject of inheritance came up, and Aldhelm implied that Aelfwynn would be thrown aside for any children fathered by Erik, Erik reached his breaking point. He slammed his fist on the table. Neither Aldhelm or Aethelflaed flinched. They had become used to such behaviour long ago. But Aethelflaed decided it was time to address the tension.

"I believe," Aethelflaed said, "that you are creating a quarrel out of nothing, Lord Aldhelm. You are angry and defensive but over what? Nothing."

"It is not nothing, Aethelflaed," Erik answered, "it is you. Lord Aldhelm believed he had a claim to you, and he is angry to find that he is wrong. Is that not right, Aldhelm?"

Aldhelm smirked just a little. "I do not think so highly of myself that I would claim King Alfred's daughter. I know my own worth better than some."

"Better than me?" Erik asked. "You think I believe myself worthy of Aethelflaed? Don't be a fool. I am not. But she has chosen me and I am here."

Aethelflaed sat back and watched. She did not feel compelled to intervene in the argument she had forced.