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Chapters (88)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. I
  4. I
  5. II
  6. III
  7. IV
  8. V
  9. VI
  10. VII
  11. VIII
  12. IX
  13. X
  14. XI
  15. II
  16. I
  17. II
  18. III
  19. IV
  20. V
  21. VI
  22. VII
  23. VIII
  24. IX
  25. X
  26. XI
  27. XII
  28. XIII
  29. XIV
  30. XV
  31. XVI
  32. XVII
  33. XVIII
  34. XIX
  35. XX
  36. XXI
  37. III
  38. I
  39. II
  40. III
  41. IV
  42. V
  43. VI
  44. VII
  45. VIII
  46. IX
  47. X
  48. XI
  49. XII
  50. XIII
  51. XIV
  52. XV
  53. XVI
  54. XVII
  55. XVIII
  56. XIX
  57. XX
  58. XXI
  59. IV
  60. I
  61. II
  62. III
  63. IV
  64. V
  65. VI
  66. VII
  67. VIII
  68. IX
  69. X
  70. XI
  71. XII
  72. XIII
  73. XIV
  74. XV
  75. XVI
  76. XVII
  77. XVIII
  78. XIX
  79. XX
  80. XXI
  81. XXII
  82. XXIII
  83. XXIV
  84. XXV
  85. XXVI
  86. XXVII
  87. EPILOGUE
  88. Afterword

Shocked, Orm suddenly saw it. Harold’s standard was the Fighting Man; the crown Sihtric urged him to take belonged to a king descended from Alfred. He felt cold at the Menologium’s precision - and at the idea that a document drafted centuries ago had been designed to intervene in this moment, right here, right now.

And Godgifu looked shocked too. Evidently her brother had not shared this new interpretation even with her.

‘I have thought this through carefully, lord,’ Sihtric urged. ‘You must do this. England requires it. Providence demands it. You know I have openly admired your honourable intentions towards the succession of the Atheling. But it is not a question of honour or dishonour any longer. You have no choice.’

Harold turned on him, his broad, handsome face twisted. ‘Damn you, priest. You’re always here, aren’t you? Always darkening my soul. Always ready to lead me one step further towards perdition.’

‘Harold,’ Edward whispered. ‘Do you hover over me to steal my throne?’

‘No - this priest - that is not my intention—’

‘I kept the peace in our shores for twenty years. Well, England is for the furnace now. All my life I have been stifled by you Godwines. You are a better man than your father, but now in this extreme you show yourself to be no more than he was.’

‘Sire—’

‘Your father blinded and slew my brother. I pray you see your brothers die before you, Harold Godwineson. I pray you see them all die, before you are blinded, and die in your turn.’

Harold’s face hardened. Sihtric, wisely, said nothing.

Edward’s breath rattled in his throat, once, twice, three times. Then came a final exhalation, almost of relief, as if he were laying down a heavy load.

Harold straightened up. ‘The King recognised the threat to England. He vouchsafed the throne, and the safety of his queen, my sister, to me.’ He glared around the room. ‘You all heard it.’

Of course nobody present had heard any such thing. But no one challenged Harold’s cold fury. Even Edith, his sister, the King’s widow, would not meet his eyes.

IX

IX

Harold Godwineson was crowned in the church of Westmynster, in the manner of the descendants of Alfred, with sceptre and battleaxe in his hands. Though the coronation was a great spectacle and the feasting that followed lavish, some muttered about unseemly haste, for the new King was crowned the very day after the death of the old. But with claimants brooding on every horizon Harold had rushed to secure his throne.

Immediately after the coronation he began work on organising the country’s defence. He sent out orders to review the provisioning and summoning of the fyrd, and to ensure he had a navy good enough to protect the coast.