Alvar the Kingmaker Read Online Free PDF Page A

beat their women, for she couldn’t help but wonder where Elwood had acquired his notion of what constituted genteel behaviour.
    The Half-king had taken his place at the head table and was sitting on the ornately carved chair, with Elwood on one side of him and Prince Edgar on the other. It took only a few mouthfuls of food before Alfreda discovered the source of Elwood’s ire. As had become her habit, she pretended an interest in her food to discourage conversation, which enabled her to listen to those at the head table.
    Elwood spat out gobbets of food as he spoke. “So, this brat of a king will not right the wrong he has done to us. You are the only lord who has not been given any new lands since the king-making. Worse, the lands in Mercia of which you were caretaker have been given to Alvar, when they should have formally been given over to you. We are poorer while these upstarts come from nowhere to wield power and strength.”
    The Half-king, who was grey-haired but sat with a straight back, finished his mouthful and wiped his lips on a linen napkin before he spoke. “The Fairchild is busy giving land in order to bind the lords to him. Since he does not wholly trust me or mine, and knows that in any case we cannot be bought, he does not try.” He smiled ruefully at his son. “The raising up of the newcomers troubles me as much as it does you, but I will not stoop so low as to beg for more land.”
    It seemed that Elwood might choke before he managed to spit out more words and while he continued to splutter and fail to enunciate, Prince Edgar cleared his throat.
    “I do not know my brother overly well, but I think he has misunderstood what it means to be king. You cannot buy men’s loyalty, nor is it wise to think that you can earn their steadfastness. It is yours by right, but you must demand it without seeming to. And never show weakness.”
    Now it was Alfreda who struggled to swallow her food. She looked again at Edgar and shook her head slowly, trying to reconcile his sagacity with her awareness of his tender age.
    Elwood’s brow was creased. He took a swig of ale and said, “Yes, well, word-craft is all well and good, but how will that get me the land that is due to me?”
    Edgar raised an eyebrow and shrugged.
    “Hah! You see? You have no answer. For all your words, you do not know.”
    Alfreda thought that Elwood was wrong. It seemed to her rather that Edgar just didn’t care.
    Abbot Athelwold laid a hand on her arm to gain her attention and then whispered to her. “It is true that the Half-king held the Mercian lands after Alvar’s father died. But the Mercians loved that man and they will welcome his son, Alvar, who, from what I have seen, is made from the same clay. He is not merely one of the Fairchild’s creatures; he is a skilled swordsman and his brother, a man whom I have known a long time, tells me he has a sharp mind.”
    The Half-king was staring out far across the hall. Alfreda was moved again to think how imposing a figure he was. He was immense in stature and in reputation. He had been guardian not only of a future king, but of vast swathes of the country while kings came and went. If the new king did not require his services then however resigned he might appear, surely it must rankle? But he was naught if not pragmatic and after a few more moments of contemplation, he spoke again.
    “I think we are allowing the chaff to blind us to the wheat.” He lowered his head and Elwood leaned in to catch what he was saying. Whatever they were plotting, there would be no more eavesdropping; where Elwood shouted for all to hear, the shrewd Half-king kept his scheming secret. Alfreda would have to look elsewhere for distraction.
    Her gaze shifted to Edgar and she was still staring at him when he looked up and smiled at her. Caught out, she looked away and found herself staring instead at Elwood’s youngest brother. The lord of Brandon had the same pale features as the rest of the family, but