Angles or Angels?

David Stokes

Description

Late 6th century Britain. Regional kingdoms are engaged in a ruthless struggle for supremacy. To the south, Saxon kings predominate but, in the north, British leaders are combining in a final effort to overthrow their two Angle rivals in Deira and Bernicia. To survive, the Angle warlords must put aside their ancient rivalry.Acha, daughter of one king is chosen to act as 'peace-weaver' by marrying the rival leader. But when her intended husband kills her father and disinherits her young brother, she has to choose between her lover, her family and her duty to the wider kin.Against a backdrop of military campaigns that decide the shape of northern Britain, this story follows the personal tragedies that force siblings into rival camps. The outcome may be a united kingdom but families will be divided forever.

Sujets

• Historical fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Date de parution: 28 juillet 2019
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781838599386
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Copyright © 2019 David Stokes

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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ISBN 978 1838599 386

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David Stokes studied history at Oriel College, Oxford and is an emeritus professor at Kingston University. His wife Sue managed to prevent him naming any of their children with names beginning with Æ .

Other publications by the author include:

The Happy Ending
Small Business and Entrepreneurship


Testimonies from beta readers:

‘A tour de force! Very convincing flavour of Anglo Saxon Britain.’

‘A dramatic tale of actual people in 7 th century Britain, supremely well-researched and skilfully told.’

‘If you want a highly entertaining read whilst learning more about the Anglo-Saxons, then don’t miss this exciting historical novel.’

‘Once I began reading, I just could not stop. A particular bonus for me was the extensive historical notes at the end of the book. These give you further insights into the period so that you know what is in the historical and archaeological records and what the author has made up.’

For more information about the author and the Anglo Saxon period, including free downloads, go to:

davidstokesauthor.com
Contents
Part One

Part Two

Historical Notes

Map of Northern Britain around AD 600

Place Names

Characters in order of appearance

Acknowledgements

Part One
Catræth
– AD 600 –
Prologue
Angles or Angels?
It is said that some merchants arrived in Rome one day and set out their goods in the market place. Some young boys with fair complexions, handsome faces and striking hair were amongst the merchandise for sale. St. Gregory came along with the crowds and he inspected the boys with interest and asked where they had come from.
‘They are from the island of Britain where all the people look like this,’ the merchant said.
‘Are they Christians or heathens?’ Gregory asked.
‘They are pagan,’ came the reply.
Gregory gave a heart-felt sigh. ‘How sad that the lord of darkness should have people so bright of face in his grip, that their graceful, outward form should conceal minds that are ignorant of God’s grace. What is the name of this people?’
‘They are called Angles.’
‘Good, for they have the face of angels and such people should be fellow-heirs of the angels in heaven. What is the name of the kingdom from which they have been brought?’ he asked.
‘They are from the kingdom of Deira,’ was the reply.
‘Deira? De ira! The wrath of god! They’ve been snatched from the wrath of god and called to his mercy. And what is the name of the king of this land?’ Gregory asked.
‘He is called Ælle.’
Playing on the name, Gregory replied, ‘Alleluia! The praise of God the Creator must be sung in those parts.’

From Bede’s
Ecclesiastical History of the English People,
Book II, Chapter 1.
One
The Angle boy raced quietly across the hut, taking the girl by surprise as he flung himself, naked, onto her back. She shrieked and jumped to her feet, twisting to shake him off.
‘Edwin, you wretch! Look, you’ve made me all wet.’
He fell onto the mattress, gurgling with glee. She took a towel from the maid who should have been washing him in the bathtub.
‘And now you’re soaking my bed, you horrid little brother. Enough of your horseplay.’
Edwin squirmed and wriggled. ‘Acha, Acha is a horse’s arse!’ he spluttered in a singsong voice.
Acha lifted the towel and slapped him hard on his bare buttocks.
‘Didn’t hurt, didn’t hurt,’ he sang.
Acha slapped him again, even harder.
‘Didn’t hurt,’ he continued, although she could see from the red weald on his fair skin that it probably did.
‘Who taught you that disgusting song?’ she asked, holding his feet together so that he couldn’t move. ‘It was the thegn-sons, wasn’t it?’
‘Shan’t tell, shan’t tell.’
She knew that she was right. She would have words with them later. They wouldn’t get away with that.
Edwin squirmed into a sitting position, and the maid tried to rub at the curls that dripped water onto the bed.
‘I was going to tell you a riddle, but I don’t think I will now.’ Acha half turned away.
Edwin shook his head free of the maid’s towelling. ‘Yesss! Riddle time. Riddle time. I’ve got one too.’
Acha nodded to the maid, who hurried to a box of blankets.
‘Only when you’re tucked up under a warm cover, ready for the night.’
Edwin pattered to the next bench along the wall, threw himself onto the straw mattress and laid flat on his back, eyes tightly shut. As the maid drew a blanket over him, Acha couldn’t help smiling at his chubby nakedness. When he put his thumb into his mouth, she scowled and reached over to pull his hair with one hand, yanking the thumb from his lips with the other.
‘Æthelings don’t suckle their thumbs. How many times do I have to tell you?’
Edwin sat up, frowning. ‘What do æthelings do?’
Acha loosened the top of her tunic but stopped, remembering she no longer liked to undress in front of him, now that she was becoming a woman.
‘Æthelings become kings if they are strong. And to be strong, you need lots of sleep.’
Edwin thought for a moment. ‘When I’m king,’ he said slowly before continuing in a rush: ‘I can have you whipped because you’re a horse’s arse.’ He disappeared under the blanket, giggling and wriggling.
Acha sighed. ‘Pity, I had a good riddle for you. Now you’ve spoiled it. I’m going.’
His head shot up from under the bedding. ‘I’ll be good, I promise. And strong.’
Acha turned, trying not to smile. ‘On your oath?’
‘On my oath.’ He wiped his eyes with his bare arm and sniffed. ‘Your riddle first.’
With a wave, Acha dismissed the maid and tried to recall the words of the bard who had recently visited the royal encampment to recite in the feasting hall. It was one of the few occasions when she had been allowed to remain there after sunset but only for the riddles and the opening poem. Once the mead had begun to flow, her father, King Ælle, had told her to be gone. It was a start. It wouldn’t be long before she could join the other hall-women who watched from the side while the men ate, drank and insulted each other around the mead benches.
‘I am a creature with many teeth,’ she began as Edwin gazed at the tapestry on the wall with a faraway look. ‘My mouth is lined with useful beaks that point down while I gently scratch the slopes, searching for plants. I uproot those that have no use and leave living the ones of value. Who am I?’ She brushed a bead of water from Edwin’s brow and pulled the blanket higher.
‘A cow,’ he blurted.
‘No, cows don’t have beaks. ’
‘A duck then.’
She shook her head. ‘No, they only have one beak, not many.’
Edwin frowned. ‘Give me another clue.’
Acha thought for a moment. ‘I am a friend to man but if you should mistakenly put a foot on my teeth, I will hit you on the head with my tail.’ She chuckled, pleased with her invention.
‘Are you a dragon?’ Edwin snuggled lower down the bed.
‘No, they don’t live in fields around here, do they? Do you remember how you hurt your head during the feast of Eostre when you ran into the barn full of field tools?’
Edwin fingered the mark that still showed on his forehead. ‘Yes, I trod on a… ’ His eyes widened with understanding. ‘A rake! It has teeth that pull up weeds and when I stood on them, it wacked me in the head, made me feel dizzy. You’re a rake.’
Acha clapped her hands and leaned forward to kiss the spot where he had been injured. ‘Well done. What’s your riddle?’ she asked.
Edwin fidgeted with the curls that hung over his ears. ‘What was it? Oh yes. I grow very tall, erect in my bed. Like this.’ He struggled to his feet, letting the cover fall so he stood, naked on the mattress and giggled nervously. ‘And I’m hairy underneath.’ He put a hand on his bottom.
Acha bit her lip, fearing what might be next.
He sniggered, barely containing his excitement. ‘A girl grabs me, peels back my skin and puts me in her pantry. What am I?’
Acha glowered, not amused in the slightest. ‘Who told you that?’ she snapped. ‘That’s a rude riddle that foolish men tell in the feast hall over their drink, not one for you. It was those stupid thegn-sons, wasn’t it? They told you.’
Edwin’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. ‘It’s not r… rude. It’s an onion. The answer’s an onion. Lillan said it would make you laugh.’ He was almost in tears.
Acha’s cheeks reddened as she thought of the thegn-son who had set him up for this prank. She may have let Lillan kiss