"...The greatest Englishman that ever lived was King Alfred."

Winston Spencer Churchill

The Wessex Sagas

The saga of
Alfred & Gudrum

Written in Rock Well Green

Near the town of Wellington

In Somerset

In the Kingdom of Wessex

1 TA21 9DB

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© Trevor Morgan, sunset on the Winter Solstice 2003, all rights reserved

Trevor Morgan is hereby identified as the author of this work in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Design and Patents Act in the year of our Lord’s incarnation 1988.

Author’s Foreword

Many works have been written of the semi-mythical king of Britain, King Arthur. The only near contemporary reference to Arthur is in Aneirin’s wonderful work, "The Gododdin". This is a passing reference to a war leader not being as great as Arthur.

Alfred, the king of Wessex, fought a similar series of wars to those of the Romano-Britains of the time of Arthur. Alfred also fought on the same terrain and against a similar enemy. Wessex however was eventually successful in its wars. There seems to be a lack of verse about Alfred, the king of Wessex and the only English king to be given the title of 'the Great'.

His military achievements deserve this title. Alfred lived and ruled in different times and there were two sides and two views involved in that struggle. It was an heroic period. It is worthy of heroic verse.

The Danes of that period are loosely described as 'pagan'. This term is a casual and derogative name for a complex set of ideas that went to make up a quite complex religion.

History is written by the winners. The 'pagans' lost. The Christians won and wrote the books.

Bishop Asser’s book is a good reference for the period, as is the text of the 'Peace of Wedmore'.

This book of mine is not history. It is heroic verse about the deeds and lives of long dead peoples. Much of it is as historically sound as the Iliad. It is not historically sound in the detailed lives. Sild the slave is a device for this narrative. It seemed to be my fate to write about Sild.

The style of verse used is that of Coleridge (The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner) who wrote some of his works in Somerset in the Quantock Hills. My home is close to the Blackdown Hills and they have inspired me greatly without the aid of opiates!

The main body of this book was written rapidly between the second and the tenth of December 2003. It seemed to pour out and has needed little revision and left me tired but content.

I hope it is a suitable set of historic and fictional cameos that give readers an interest in the period and a feel for the horrors of the period. I have tried not to idealise Alfred. We should remember his imposed "Peace of Wedmore", amongst other things, sought to set rules for trading in slaves! Yet he did try to reduce the blood vengeance that was endemic in his times and this was eventually achieved. He should not be idealised. He was a man and he was successful and you do not always win by being too soft. Winning is achieved by the canny who are also lucky. Alfred was both of these and in that he was "Great".

Trevor Morgan

Wellington, Somerset, Winter Solstice 2003

Acknowledgement

To Laura Cooper of Angelera in Wellington, who told me to get on with this and with other work. Thank you.

Alfred and Gudrum

Introduction

Some yarns are spun with linen thread

And some are wove with verse

The latter lingers in your head

But does not fill your purse [2]

Dane Dedication – To Bragi the God of Poetry and of Verse [3]

Lord Bragi entered in my mind

And threw these words about

To write them up has been a grind

But now these words are out

Saxon Dedication – To Bishop Asser the Biographer of Alfred [4]

The Bishop Asser of Sherborne

Who has inspired me so

I had to write from night to morn

He caused these words to flow

Prologue

Let sands of time now trickle up

And flow the other way

Watch bottles empty every cup

Let’s go to yesterday

Then travel back in time yet more

Eleven hundred years

To see much of what’s gone before,

The triumph and the tears.

Then life was short and life was hard

For all the common folk

And rulers then had small regard

For slaves held in the yoke [5]

They bought and sold both herds and men

Sought a good price for both

The Wedmore Peace agreed this when

Each party swore an oath

And each "must find a warrantor" [6]

For oxen or a slave

These first rules sought a new rapport

So less might act the knave

A price was fixed on every life

Thanes cost more than the rest

Blood money paid in lieu of strife

Was something that impressed

Man slaying would cost thirty pence

Thanes were priced out in gold

Then, all of this made brutal sense

In those cruel days of old

Our island was divided up

‘Tween England and Danelaw

It’s something now to tell about

A part of our folklore.

Gudrum the King

Now Chippenham’s a market where

All goods are bought and sold

And Danes are there with coin to spare

With silver and with gold

Their Raven Flag’s above that place

It flutters in the breeze

"That Saxon King won’t show his face

So we may take our ease.

We can take stock of all our gains

We’ll soon take all this land

Since Ivar’s time not much remains

Our conquest’s close at hand

We hear there is a new young king

Like Edmund [7] long ago

Prepare now his Blood-Eagling

He should make quite a show

Some Saxon hearts have beat for days

When we’ve spread wide the chest

There hung up in the sun’s bright rays

We’ve put each to the test

With ribs spread out like eagles’ wings

The lungs seem like bellows

There is such glory and it brings

A terror to our foes

While some Blood-Eagled thanes have cried

Some have borne up quite well

And all hang long before they died

A good foretaste of Hel

For unbelievers have no right

To enter our gods’ hall

And Fri is sickened by the sight

Since she was held in thrall

The Christians plundered every grove

Where Fri and Odhinn lay

They plundered every shrine and trove

So now they have to pay

Could Fri the Mother of us all

Be raped and thrown aside?

We’ve answered Thor’s avenging call

From this we cannot hide

Sonnet

To Hate

A good man may be made to seethe with hate

The wicked live with it most of the time

To some it seems it is their natural state

While others sink into it past they're prime

It has attractions to those harmed by wrong

It simmers in the souls of those who hurt

And to avoid its lure all must be strong

Or it may drag weak minds down through the dirt

A hate may burn out soon that's seething hot

To rage against a wrong may be all right

Though to be turned ice cold by hate is not

One's over soon the other's a slow blight

Now hate has had a long and sure career

No matter where you go it may be near

Since Boniface and Charlemagne

Baptised us with the sword

We’ll sweep aside this evil stain

And slay each Christian fraud

They preach of good yet hoard much gold

Good Pagans they mistreat

We’re took as slaves and bought and sold

As Christians lie and cheat

They sing their hymns to their "great" god

They then do wicked things

Now they think that it’s really odd

The vengeance that this brings

The Men of Bragi’s Jesting Song

"In acts of commination [8] now

We curse the pagans’ ways

May God’s love now please aid our vow

All through these long grim days

And may we show due reverence

Let church doors beckon in

Praising good God’s great eminence

As we nail up each skin

And let the fresh flayed pagans call

Upon their own false gods

And as they bleed and as they bawl

We’ll whip their flesh with rods

And in this way, dear God of Love

We gently worship you above"

"They say that we are damned to Hel

They say our souls are dead

But who can know and who can tell

What all the gods have said

These Saxons followed Odhinn too

They were like all of us

But had to turn to something new

And now they spit and cuss

The Raven banner is our guide

It flutters overhead

The wind has spread its folds out wide

This portent has been said

That should it hang limp down the lance

Then fights may not be fought

When it floats wide we may advance

And battle may be sought

We passed a church the other day

Where they had flayed our kin

Poor pagan lives were took away

The door was hung with skin

There some flayed Danes were still alive

And each begged for a sword

When at Valhalla they arrive

They’ll drink mead with their Lord

As each one held his sword and died

All Danes were seen to cry

Yet in these acts we all take pride

Although we weep and sigh."

Sacrifice the foe reign men

"A place of sacrifice had been

Prepared for Alfred here

We now plan to enslave his queen

For victory now that near

With only one last Saxon King

The prize is close at hand

With all the bounty it could bring

This fertile and sweet land"

Sonnet

To Fri

There's flowers on the weeds there in midstream

Each has four little petals, purest white

The sunshine on the water seams to gleam

Those petals there now dance within this light

The gnats above the ripples in the glare

Appear then disappear in dappled shade

So lurid are the contrasts everywhere

The stream runs through this woody gorgeous glade

And all about the insects buzz and hum

A blackbird sings within the aspen tree

A thieving magpie stands here looking glum

And clouds across the sky are floating free

Those flowers in midstream wave to and fro

Our Mother Earth can put on quite a show

Alfred

King Alfred stood there by the grave

The priest read from a book

Not knowing how he should behave

This new king sobbed and shook

His brothers were now in the ground

And Alfred was the king

Far off he heard a church bell sound

An eerie distant thing

For they should not ring on Thor’s days

Except to sound alarm

There in the sun’s last setting rays

He still felt free from harm

Wondrous world

But all are led a merry dance

Through all the scenes of circumstance

And there's so much that's done by chance

The world's a wondrous place for those

Who are not led on by the nose

And there's no thorn upon the rose

But most of us who have been born

Will get our hands so badly torn

And get no rose, just grab the thorn

The Fates it seems, to take their ease

Will drive Hope down upon its knees

And leave the poor out doors to freeze

The way it seems events pan out

In such a way that there's no doubt

In life most face a brutal rout

As aspirations all turn bad

A cheerful heart is all gone sad

And gentler souls are driven mad

The shore cannot resist the sea

Soft water wears hard rocks you see

A curse upon cruel destiny!

A streak of smoke rose in the East

Far off across the sky

As portent of a coming beast

He heard the West wind sigh

The sighing of the wind it’s said

Was an old British Bard

The songs of Dylan now long dead

Sighed round that old graveyard

So long ago this land had held

His ancestors at bay

With heroes so unparalleled

Right down unto this day

The long dead Celts were obstinate

In wars was Wessex born

And his churls here were obdurate

Dead Celts had left their spawn

So Alfred then walked from the grave

His heart was full of grief

He pushed aside a common slave

"Are you that weak my chief?"

He stopped and turned with little hate

This one slave stood his ground

"Soon your line may well share my fate

For Danes are all around"

The sharpened blade slid from its sheath

The slave then smiled with glee

"Oh, do fulfil my life’s belief

Kill me and set me free"

For first time then he saw a man

Not just another drudge

Though all may do just what they can

This man here would not budge

The King stared at this seeming Seer

He knew of Mercia’s plight

"Oh, tell me Sage, are they that near

When will we feel their might?"

"Go ask a fool, go ask a mule,

Go stare straight down a well

The dead souls of my kin now drool

In heaven and in hell.

Your kind once came and took our land

You made the orphan slave

Is Saxon doom now close at hand?

Tell me King – are you brave?

To push a bondsman’s easy when

You’re young and fit and strong

There’s fitter work for better men

So do not do me wrong

You are a part of our land now

And it’s a part of you

Be thankful for an ancient vow

That keeps your bondsmen true!

The Oak, the Ash, the Elm, and Yew

Stand firm within this realm

Not all men are so tied to you

And some would seize the helm

Sonnet

Gudrum's Tactics

A lust for vengeance burned within his heart

He craved to rid the earth of all this filth

His tactics had been bold right from the start

He used fast movement and great guile and stealth

The Chippenham attack in winter's cold

Seemed to have broken all the rules of war

But confidence can make some act too bold

Against a foe who's well up to the chore

A single-minded hate is not enough

When over stretched you may have gone too far

When you face resistance that is tough

Your heaven may turn black without a star

When raging through a land with total hate

A foe who knows your ways dictates your fate

The Dragon, Gryphon and the Wolf [9]

The Raven eats their meat

And since the time of Beowulf

They’ve found men’s flesh so sweet

Your forefathers fed mine to crows [10]

The Raven’s here for you

But of the future no one knows

Defeats are nothing new."

"My mother raised me to read books [11]

And not to be the King

My brothers had the warrior’s looks

But each has felt Death’s sting

My older brothers are now dead

The Raven comes for me

For all that blood my brothers bled

I swear I’ll set you free

You will be free when Raven cries

And beg if they are able

And you may see with gleeful eyes

Danes serving you at table.

Until that day I am your King

You’ll live and die with me

I know you read, I’ve heard you sing

One day you may be free

Until that time you’ll be my aid

I’ll have you close by me

And I will have some weapons made

Fighting could make you free

I was not raised to fight long wars

I was not meant to fight

I’ve heard of monks that lie with whores

We all know that’s not right

You were not raised to take up arms

But fighting men all fail

The Raven’s raids have caused alarms

I see you do not quail

They may Blood-Eagle me as King

They’ll kill you just for sport

If I’m to be a gory thing

Your suffering will be short

You may well even watch me die

My chest torn open wide

I only hope I do not cry

But give my kinfolk pride"

"The Raven Flag’s at Chippenham"

The brave slave told the King

"But who’s the lion, who’s the lamb?

And who will feel Death’s sting?

It’s Thor’s Day now, yet since the noon

More than three days ago

For since the last day named the Moon [12]

The Danes strut to and fro

In Chippenham they strut about

They’ve made a place for you

With open rib cage spread right out

They’ll nail you up in view

With ritual and with reverence

The balance will be paid

For in their laws of blood vengeance

Accounting must be made

The Mercians they killed most Danes

So many had to die

Priests say each pagan just profanes

And each one lives a lie

But lies to you are truths to those

Who follow other gods

If you could get to know your foes

You’d even up the odds"

"But Danes are pagan and profane

How can I mix with them?

And yet they bleed and yet they pain

Your views contain a gem

Of this blood vengeance I have heard

It seems a form of trade

Redress the balance their watchword

As blood debts must be paid"

Along their way they reasoned on

This brave slave and young king

The king he tended to feel wan

The slave chose not to sing

The Saxon poems he’d not quote

Nor divert from his speech

The king at last he learned by rote

Some things a slave can teach

Sild the slave’s speech

"Sir, with no feelings there’s no point

In fighting off the Danes at all

For we do care who you appoint

We don’t want drunken oafs who brawl

This man of war is strong but coarse

That man of God is good but old

That foreman mason in the yard

Is strong and he’s a heart of gold

And men of work can fight in wars

They fight by building borough walls

The warrior sees such deeds as chores

Without walls every borough falls

The Danes are swift but travel light

And cannot take a strong defence

They only win in open fight

To build strong walls just makes good sense"

The king enquired of Sild’s blood line

And where did he come from?

So as they talked there by a fire

Sild answered with aplomb

"I do not trace my line through men

We all come from a womb

No man’s sure of his father then

From birth right to the tomb

From Morchan’s line your slave has come

From Morchan of the Fey [13]

And of that line I am but one

And lines may end some day

This land was full of strange beasts once

And then the people came

This should be taught to wise and dunce

And we’ll pass on the same

The earth abides for evermore

We creatures may well not

Unless you win in your great chore

Sir, you’ll soon be forgot"

At that time this had meant not much

To this young Christian king

It seemed the slave was losing touch

His mind was wandering

He thought of battle plans he knew

One swift and sure quick fight

But ere the first swift arrow flew

Too soon they’d all took flight

First Battle

At Chippenham the armies met

The fight was won and lost

The Danes advanced much further yet

The Saxons bore the cost

Berserker’s Prayer

"Life for a life, Death for a death

In this we’re always true

We’re faithful to our dying breath

Odhinn we’re pledged to you

All rites and rituals of our caste

Tell us we must be fair

Until we die and then at last

We’re freed from worldly care

No need to sweat, no need to toil

No need to pull the oar

No need to till a stubborn soil

Death does not bring a chore

To die in debt is a disgrace

The scales must balance true

And we’ll not reach the happy place

Lest vengeance gets its due."

Martyred Berserk’s Fate

He saw the line through his right eye [14]

His focus was quite true

He saw that King who had to die

Thor told him what to do

He saw the three spears thrust at him

He knew his blade swung true

And then that sight that was so grim

A slave stepped in his view

Then he was at Valhalla’s door

And Lord Thor said this thing

"I’ll give to you each menial chore

You failed to kill that King.

That slave you slew none of us knew

Or could have known about

And we now rue what our Danes do

For we are plunged in doubt

Who is this Sild whom you have killed?

Why did all Asgard sway?

And why have all the fires here chilled

What have you done this day?

The Norns have gone into retreat

And Sild is there as well

We watch the foe you fail to beat

Are not now claimed by Hel

For Bragi’s singing sad laments

And Balder can’t be found

So not until each Norn relents

May you now make a sound

Sometimes there are some little things

Things Odhinn had not seen

That may change all the ways of Kings

We wish this had not been

Who is this Sild the one you slew?

And just why don’t WE know?

It seems he’s one whom none here knew

Before you struck that blow

The Norns it seems have kept him dark

Away from Asgard’s sight

We now see that the future’s stark

Since Gudrum won that fight"

The Flight of the Saxons

A remnant of their armed men fled

And hid themselves away

But most their army now lay dead

For they had lost the day

Retreat of the Saxons

The road was long around the Gorge

They could cross at low tide

They rested near the Sea Mill’s forge

But none now felt much pride

A few Danes had torn through their lines

The shield front could not hold

Now some saw portents, some saw signs

And others just felt old

They’d trudged about in wars so long

But this one was the worst

And none of them now felt so strong

And most of them had cursed

Then as they walked out through the mire

Their way lit by the moon

Most of those men had lost all fire

The end must sure come soon

They waded up the other side

They climbed the rough terrain

And then they sought a place to hide

As daylight came again.

The Smith’s Trade

Alric the Smith walked from his forge

And headed for Hot Wells

He saw some Danes there through the Gorge

He heard some far church bells

He walked content upon this day

The crows flew overhead

He passed more men along that way

Nailed to some trees and dead

He hurried on and now felt wan

His heart now full of fear

Oh, how he wished the Danes be gone

He wished they were not here

He’d worked so long to learn his trade

His anvil rang such tunes

He now made things like Wayland made

Yet did not know the runes

A group of Berserks stopped him there

They seemed to know his trade

They showed him true respect and care

It seemed they sought his aid

Berserkers praise all Smiths

"How Smiths get iron from the ore

Are the mysteries of their trade

Through ways so hidden in their lore

Hammer, axe and sword are made"

They wanted nails for some foul thane

They said they’d pay him well

He never saw those men again

But made more nails to sell

"They’ll pay you true those Berserks will"

The Smith told all his trade

"Smiths now have markets for their skill

Berserks will see we’re paid"

"Death for a death, life for a life

Good nails deserve good pay"

Few Smiths now seem to mind this strife

Sun shines on them each day. [15]

King Alfred then arose and went

Southwest to Somerset

He knew he now felt quite intent

To hide and to forget

A Smith there missed some steady trade

Alfred and his ten Thanes

Could help to sell some nails fresh made

To those good paying Danes

Some Saxons lords had not paid well

Impoverished by this war

And unpaid debts now seemed to swell

Some smiths had more and more.

The Queen’s Dream

The Queen was in an old convent

Where she’d been hid away

She prayed the Danes just might relent

She prayed the night away

At sunrise she had gone to sleep

And she slept through to noon

That was the day she ceased to weep

She woke and hummed a tune

"Good Queen why are you now more calm?"

A nun had asked her there

"My dream brought me a gentle balm

It took away my care

My Lord is like a hunted thing

The hounds have lost the scent

Though dreams, mixed news, may sometime bring

This dream may be God-sent:-

The stag in flight

"A stag stood on the Polden Hills [16]

And snorted at the East

The sunrise there would bring no thrills

When would this hounding cease?

He’d run for most of yesterday

His lungs had seemed to burn

And now here with the break of day

Would that mad pack return?

Those slavering hounds he had outrun

His legs were cut and torn

Hope does not come with rising sun

He heard a huntsman’s horn

He snorted at the break of day

Got up and loped along

He felt that he could get away

And now he felt quite strong

Those hounds were tearing up a hind

The stag did not know that

And soon he left the hunt behind

The land was low and flat"

"Are you that hind?" the nun replied

"The stag survives my dear"

That nun it’s said had never cried

When eight cruel Danes had her.

That nun she bled for near a week

Then not for nine months more

But of that crime she would not speak

A lovely son she bore

This was the only child she had

That child born out of rage

She got much love from that sweet lad

Right to a grand old age

When good things from a crime have come

It’s part of destiny

There’s so much that remains unknown

So what will be will be

First Blood for Young Aethelwulf [17]

Two men lay dead there at his feet

They were a gory sight

He killed them in that sad retreat

When well hid in their flight

He’d gone in fast, he’d gone in quick

He was soaked in their blood

And now his very soul was sick

He knelt there in the mud

Aethelwulf’s Prayer of remorse

"Oh, Christ Dear Lord, what have I done?

You say I must not kill

I am now but a sinful son

And my heart feels so chill"

A dove was near up in a tree

It cooed a gentle sound

It seemed to him he was set free

He left that bloodstained ground

The Eagle’s brood

An eagle rode the rising air

It circled overhead

It sought some prey or carrion there

It had young to be fed

So circling it rode and rose

Much higher in the sky

And there in that place that it chose

It stared down from on high

Beside the woods next to a stream

Two Danes lay cold and dead

No one heard that eagle screech

But its brood got well fed

Some fed upon the flesh of man

Eagles may not feel love

All predators feed where they can,

The eagle killed that dove

Those Danes had also fed the crows

Some badgers dined as well

Now Fate may tell just what this shows

But there’s no time to dwell

At Athelney

So Alfred went to Athelney [18]

Hid in the place of reeds

A wise man will know when to flee

And when to do brave deeds

For seven melancholy days

Alfred abandoned hope

It has been said it never pays

To hide away and mope

But Alfred hid and hardly ate

Knew not what he’d done wrong

He wondered if it was his fate

He did not now feel strong

So melancholy was his soul

He felt all hope a cheat

A harried fox hides in a hole

The chase for him’s not sweet

Great kings they may well do great things

Offa had built his dyke

Disgrace, remorse and shame just brings

Feelings no man can like

Alfred did not much like himself

Some better men had died

The Danes he knew had got much pelf

And so he sat and sighed

A Time of Doubts

The melancholy he went through

Filled Alfred full of doubt

He questioned all the things he knew

"What was this life about?"

Sonnets to melancholy [19]

Alfred’s Sonnet 1

We are in Hell

Now is the time to let your Hopes fade out

Weep, cry, bewail and shout of all your pain

For with true pain there is no room for doubt

Give in, despair and don’t get up again

Sink down, abandon hope and life and breath

Embrace the cruel who in the end are kind

Accept a pointless futile slide to death

An ending of the torments of the mind

Rejoice in all the freedom that’s to come

The chaos of existence has an end

At end we know that we are all undone

Nor have its answers ever yet been penned

‘Abandon hope all you who enter here’

But as you leave then it is time to cheer

Alfred’s Sonnet 2

Fading of delusion

The fading of delusions from the mind

The Faith, the Hope, the Love that’s not to be

The dawning of the truths that are unkind

But bring us to what we at last must see

There is no point at all within this life

There’s no respite from all the hurt and stress

No point in all the work and all the strife

Its meanings are beyond the wildest guess

We fathom in the depths that have no light

We seek and search, we poke and look and pry

And dream that we might even win the fight

But in the end we are all left to cry

For life’s a smear that’s left a nasty stain

When we’ve left here there is an end to pain

Alfred’s Sonnet 3

The stain of hope

You shall not beat him now and he’ll not share

The victory that he won was his alone

And jealously he guards all his despair

For there will be no hope that he’ll condone

Despair must be complete and not held up

For failure is an art form that is true

Rejoice now as he drinks its poison cup

In his destruction there was nothing new

A nondescript and pointless failing man

A shadow of a hope of what might be

A loser in each race that he had ran

Delusion has a name, and it is – He

Behold, how all his life has been quite vain

False hopes are gone but they have left a stain [20]

Alfred’s Reflections

The rout upon that field was done

By berserks so enraged

The Danes had had the battle won

Before they had engaged

In self-belief we can hold sway

Self-doubt is much the same

The one will help us have our way

The other leave us lame

How can you fight such raging men

Who don’t care if they die?

How can you win a battle when

Your own men will not try?

A battle’s lost before it’s fought

It’s lost when we lose heart

And now an answer must be sought

Here was the place to start.

Not all was lost: he held this marsh

The Danes now thought him done

And ‘though some tests are long and harsh

He’d not been overrun

This lonesome place seemed full of grace

The people full of joy

He saw a smile on every face

But all this seemed to cloy

How could there be such joy in life?

Ah, "Kingdoms come and go"

And even some old peasant’s wife

Knew things he did not know

The chests of men must rise and fall

As they breathe in the air

The soul’s like that and it must call

When burdened down with care

The spirit of a man is such

It must take stock some time

And when we are not winning much

We may feel past our prime

But there are things that must be done

If we are to survive

The enemy will not have won

As long as we’re alive

But moods may swing from hope to doubt

We can’t be firm like rock

Events may toss us all about

We can be jarred by shock

And Alfred pondered in that place

He pondered on God’s will

He knew he might well see God’s grace

But his soul was not still

Sometimes they moved around to see

If Danes were there about

And one day in a reverie

He told God of his doubt

At Westford near to Holy Well

Alfred had knelt to pray

There of his plight he was to tell

And then went on his way

Alfred’s private prayer

"Great men I’m told all have great faith

My God, I’m full of doubt

And all my hopes fade to a wraith

What is this life about?

I pray, do penance and give alms

I worship you good Lord

These Danes rely on blood and charms

And are a mighty horde

Forgive me Lord, my soul’s not still

This fight drives me insane

For you command "Thou shall not kill"

Yet I must slay the Dane

Your Mother Church all Danes despise

And they would burn your book

This takes all hope of paradise

Are we to be forsook?

Not as I will but as you say

I pray you lift my doubt

So I may face the coming day

Of victory or of rout"

Alfred’s public Prayer

Alfred there prayed amongst his men

He then said as thus:

"From the fury of the Northmen

Good Lord, deliver us" [21]

Was all of this a test for him?

But why should others die?

The old slave’s death had been quite grim

It oft times made him cry

"I’m free my Lord" the slave had said

His guts spilled on the ground

From chest to foot he was all red

His mind then rambled round

Sild’s ramblings

"The Fairy folk we have been told

Can’t stand the clash of arms

The Fairy folk you’ll not behold

Through chanting or through charms

The young and old in warring times

Are all who see the Fey

But those who do great kingly crimes

Will drive the Fey away

There’s little people in this land

They lived here long ago

Draw back time’s veil, they’re close at hand

Their Hall’s where I would go

I’ll sit and feast with those folk there

And drink a cup of cheer

My spirit should be anywhere,

Oh, anywhere but here."

The slave died on that battlefield

He died to save a king

Now as the future is concealed

It seemed the strangest thing

For slaves are spared who have a price

To Saxon and to Dane

Such waste of wealth is seen as vice

For slaves can bring much gain

That berserk had not killed the king

The slave stepped in the way

Why should a slave have done that thing?

How could a king repay?

He’d talked a lot that slave and he

And he could read a book

"Why should he want to die for me?"

Sad Alfred sobbed and shook

At Chippenham he’d found good ground

His men were trained and strong

But at the Berserks’ wailing sound

His well-laid plans went wrong

The bravest men were filled with fear

All resolution went

And as the Dane Berserks drew near

All courage had been spent

Despite the rally by the king

Though many men had fled

The slave then did that strangest thing

And some had ceased to dread

The rout had not been so complete

For some had got away

The crows it’s said are now replete

The Raven won that day

Now melancholy souls may sink

When they are out of ease

And morbid thoughts they’re prone to think

In such bad times as these

For seven days in many ways

Alfred thought of his woes

Then at the end of seven days

His mind turned to his foes

For seven days he thought of ways

That they might beat the Dane

And with the setting of sun’s rays

Nightmares would be his bane

For Sild would come into his dreams

And talk to him yet more

And Sild would mock some of his schemes

Just like he had before

Of borough walls this ghost would talk

"Walls unlike men don’t yield

As through the place of dreams you walk

I’ll show you what’s concealed

A Stone, a Knife, a leather Bag

All share a common fate

For each may lead and each may lag

None has the perfect state

Stone blunts the Knife, Knife cuts the Bag

The Bag holds in the Stone

While one may lead so it must lag

Alone none hold the throne

You cannot fight the way Danes do

And hope to win this war

So you must now do something new

That they’ve not seen before"

These dreams of walls and his slave’s ghost

Had troubled him each night

How could he beat the Danes great host?

How could they win this fight?

Vengeance is mine said the Lord

Reeling then from such mischance

Battered by bad circumstance

Here I choose to languish not

None of the wrongs may be forgot

There will be no sad distress

No, nor rotting bitterness

I’ll not be a sorry sight

Against what’s done, I choose to fight

What if life may have turned bad

So what I will not feel sad

They know what they do to me

So let them face their destiny

They have chose the way of war

Let us give them even more

Their way is to wield the sword

"Vengeance is mine", says our good Lord.

The Baking Lesson [22]

At daytime he would mope about

Attend to shield and spear

And while there racked in darkest doubt

That woman’s voice was clear

"Now will you watch this bread young man?

For I have chores to do

Though I may help you how I can

This is a task for you

He sharpened points, he sharpened blades

He moped in his despair

As smoke curled up in greyish shades

He scratched his itchy hair

When dark smoke billowed up in clouds

His face was in his hand

The woman’s voice then screeched so loud

Her fist hit his headband

Then Alfred reeled across the ground

His knees were flecked with blood

And then without a single sound

He got up from the mud

Still dazed a bit from her hard blow

He saw he’d burned the bread

But he then felt an inner glow

As he heard what she said

"If walls could walk they’d be more use

Than men who sit and mope

You useless man you’ve cooked your goose

For you there is no hope

A simple job that’s all I ask

Was that too hard for you?

If you could do this little task

We’d not be in this stew

You eat the bread that’s on the board

You don’t need help with that

You do it of your own accord

Just like a thieving rat"

But Alfred’s aide reached for his blade

Reacting to this act

Then Alfred any moves forbade

He’d learned good sense and tact

"No! Stay your hand; she’s done no wrong

My chore I failed to do

They burned for long the smoke smells strong

They were well in my view

When each task at its time is done

We cater for each need

And in a household that’s well run

You get good bread and mead

And our bread’s burned because of me

For I did not attend

There’s waste in this for all to see

Burned bread you cannot mend

The good grain has been wasted now

It’s all been charred quite black

There’s no point now to pray or vow

I cannot bring it back

Some wrongs done now can’t be undone

Good food has gone to waste

It matters how the cooking’s done

So do not act in haste

The cook’s the king where food is made

And I the serving hand

How I deserved her fine tirade

With curses, oh, so grand

She’s right to feel I must be blind

Not to see all this smoke

And no sound king should ever mind

If he learns from such folk

The little things we must look to

To sow and harvest grain

Through all the little things we do

Then all of us will gain

We now divide the work we do

Some spin and others weave

This goes to make a prosperous land

It’s waste that makes me grieve.

And I have wasted this good fare

By failing this good wife

So tell this story everywhere

It’s all a part of life"

The Playful Cat

The woman had a playful cat

A joyful little thing

It caught the mouse, it caught the rat

Its purring sounds would sing

She made fresh bread, she spread the board

She worked on through the day

She did this of her own accord

She knew the King would pay

The playful cat played by the king

A master with the bow

He liked to have a spare bowstring

So dealt the cat a blow

He grabbed the stunned but conscious beast

And cut its gut straight out

But its pains did not quickly cease

It staggered all about

Through fading eyes in dull surprise

Its soul then went to Fri

Now in Valhalla with bright eyes

Its soul will never die

And mother Fri feeds it nice fish

And many treats and more

All placed there in a golden dish

Beside Valhalla’s door

To judge great men outside their times

Is not the wisest things

What some may see as darkest crimes

Are calmly done by Kings

The Raped Harper [23]

Alfred the Harper crossed the land

Singing against the foe

He did not really understand

The reasons for this woe

And he had many a simple song

His themes all flowed with hate

While his true feelings weren’t that strong

It got him through the gate

And through each chord he’d earn his board

Decrying all the foe

He travelled of his own accord

He put on quite a show

"The enemy will break each vow

For they are so untrue"

He sings this to the Saxons now

The Danes will hear it too

"Why change the tune, why change the words

For both sides are the same

I’ve found more brains in little birds

I sing to make my fame

I sing of things men want to hear

My job is not to teach

This way I get my cup of cheer

So I’m a sort of leach

But I will make long evenings glow

And fill sad hearts with jest

I’ll take good payment then I’ll go

Or stay and get caressed

The thanes all talk as I sing there

I listen in quite well

There’s many secrets I could share

That I would sooner sell

That Thane who lay with me last night

And did what some must do

He talked and gave me clear insight

Of plans they have for you

So for some board, perhaps some cash

My tongue could flap a lot

For that rough Thane has been quite rash

Let him have what I got

Let him be forced down on his face

Let spear shafts enter in

And let him feel the full disgrace

Let him die for his sin

After that rape that sweaty shape

Found some great need to boast

This harper had no safe escape

So listened to his host

He told me of their new big plan

Told of their defence

So if you’re half the man I am

You’ll know I’m worth my pence

I heard of plans in great detail

I did the safest thing

When raped again I did not fail

That brute was slavering

He made me doubt I was a man

He gave to me such shame

And I would kill him if I can

And do it in God’s name

This harper got some handsome pay

And got a single bed

They did not let him go that day

For he’d heard what they said!

The Spy

Alfred the King, he could not sing

These two names men confuse

While Harper Alfred he would bring

The most important news

Alfred the Harper sang this song

Alone there in his bed

With no one there to sing along

He then lay down his head

Little Robin Red Breast [24]

"Little Robin red breast

Who did you kill today?

Oh, another Robin red breast,

Well, what more can I say

So, did he sing too sweet?

Or come near to your tree

Or was he sitting on your seat

Or did he fail to flee

This dead Robin red breast

Did he not go away?

Did he not know you were the best?

So did you make him pay?

Did you tackle him up front?

Or sneak up from behind

For, you see, to be quite blunt

They’re nasty, are your kind

Little Robin red breast

Maybe you’ll die today

When another Robin red breast

Will seek to have his way

You may sing too sweet

Or sit in some wrong tree

And he may think it really neat

To have a killing spree

That other Robin red breast

Will then have his way

And he will know he is the best

At least for one more day"

In later times in local rhymes

Their two names were confused [25]

While kings may cause great kingly crimes

Harpers keep you amused

"I have some work for you my man

You travel as you please

If you can find out Gudrum’s plan

Then you may live at ease

I’ll lavish you with some good land

If we can win this war

If you can find what he has planned

That could be your last chore"

The Harper’s life it then seemed charmed

As he spied on the Danes

For never once was he then harmed

Not even by rough thanes

If you know what your foe might do

Then you may have the edge

When spies take all the risks for you

Then Kings should keep a pledge

That Harper lived a life so long

Until that sweet last day

The skylark sang its lovely song

As he died in the hay

The Fight Back

The men of Somerset then fought

They harried every Dane

The firmest lessons ever taught

Come from enduring pain

The pain of loss, the pain of grief

Through trauma and through stress

When left to question each belief

And sort out every mess

Alfred learned his lessons well

He fought when he could win

Then in the marshes he would dwell

To hide is not a sin

There’s much to gain when your terrain

Is fighting on your side

Sometimes it’s done with little pain

As foes drown in the tide

Around the Levels Danes lay dead

They drowned there in each pool

In saving Danes it could be said

That’s work just for a fool

"Death for a death, Life for a life"

He’d set each prisoner free

I saved your life here in this strife

You owe your life to me"

The Danes he freed might well despair

But what could each one do

And each agreed, but each must swear

Life debts will have their due

"Life for a life, Death for a death"

Here mercy had a sting

No Berserk ‘til his dying breath

Escaped it reasoning

So know your foe and you may know

Just how to sap his strength

Until that final hammer blow

And victory’s yours at length

Many are marked like Cain

As those words flow out through the quill

They will not show what’s in the heart

They’re written down time and again

But only tell a part

They hide the hurt that’s deep within

And they do not reveal all pain

Nor tell of every secret sin

Nor take away the stain

Where souls are marked, and souls are marred

Then there’s much damage has been done

Where what was soft has been made hard

Then who can say who won?

Once Abel fell before the blow

Delivered by his brother Cain

No lesson’s ever learned, you know

So many bear that stain

Yet what is done can’t be undone

And this old world goes spinning on

Though there’s new wonders ‘neath the sun

They are not for the wan.

Battle’s heat

In battle’s heat the heart turns cold [26]

There’s joy in taking life

It’s been the way since time of old

Through struggle and through strife

When locked in action most will kill

It is so quickly done

In combat there’s a dreadful thrill

A demon’s sort of fun

Excitement spurs men on to do

Such murd’rous deeds in war

In all of this there’s nothing new

It’s all been done before

The thrill you feel when you impose

Your will upon a foe

Or watch them twitch in their death throes

And feel the pleasure’s glow

It matters not then at that time

Conscience is not awake

It’s only later that the crime

Might leave weak souls to quake [27]

Berserker’s Pray Again

"Life for a life, Death for a death

In this we’re always true

We’re faithful to our dying breath

Odhinn we’re pledged to you

All rites and rituals of our caste

Tell us we must be fair

Until we die and then at last

We’re freed from worldly care

No need to sweat, no need to toil

No need to pull the oar

No need to till a stubborn soil

Death does not bring a chore

To die in debt is a disgrace

The scales must balance true

And we’ll not reach the happy place

Lest vengeance gets its due."

Berserkergang

Berserkergang’s a rage worked up

By chanting and by dance

No drugs are used, or magic cup

It’s done just like a trance

And when berserk, an urge is there

That may provide more strength

But too soon they’re the worse for ware

So turn quite weak at length

A day or two is needed then

To gain renewed fitness

Berserkers may be exposed when

A foe knows this weakness!

Edington

The armies gathered on the plains

The plains that had no tree

The storm clouds brought the springtime rains

Who can know what’s to be

The young king stood there to the fore

He did not feel too strong

And did not know how many more

Had come to join this throng

He knew now that they had to fight

They had to fight or die

But who was wrong and who was right?

He tried hard not to sigh

Gudrum was troubled more and more

But could not let things be

He had to settle each old score

To set each dead soul free

But deaths were owed for deaths gone by

And he had kept a count

The storm’s wind ceased and did not sigh

There was much to surmount

The Raven’s flag then hung straight down

It hung straight down the lance

But he was here to take a crown

It was all worth the chance

His Berserks always broke the lines

Smashed through the row of shields

They can’t be stopped by simple signs

The Saxon always yields

They called on Thor and Odhinn too

Their battle chant rang out

This shield line seemed like something new

They sought a total rout

So on they rushed and full of glee

Valhalla was their due

For when a warrior’s soul is free

Their faith will bear them through

For with a weapon in the hand

A hammer, axe or sword

Each death can be so very grand

The old gods were no fraud

The Christians preached and simpered so

Yet skinned each captured man

So now each felt that inner glow

As raging on they ran

The shield line did not buckle in

But seemed more like a wall

And there within the battle’s din

So many were to fall

Some great Berserks were speared straight through

The shield wall did not break

But to their gods each one stayed true

So they died for Fri’s sake

For all the past wrongs done to her

Thor’s men all fought for Fri

Each Christian is a raping cur

And so each had to die

They had to die who persecute

And burn the sacred groves

All Berserks had to execute

These thieves who took the troves

Their hateful acts and their false creed

Their runes that only lie

For each and every hateful deed

That made good people cry

The wall seemed slowly to advance

As more Danes were cut down

And though they did not have a chance

Each died with great renown

But died they did and many fell

Limp hung the Raven’s shape

Amid that scene none could foretell

And few Danes could escape

Day’s End

For the blood and the torment were there

In the painful exquisite delight

When they’d shed their enemy’s blood

And still lived at the end of the fight!

After the Battle

Young Aethelwulf lay on the ground

At Edington next day

The crows were feeding all around

On that field where he lay

This turning point in history

Seemed dull and sad to him

As if it was a mystery

The scene around seemed dim

Aethelwulf and a sighing Dane

Lay close there in that place

Yet it seemed to his dying brain

They both were touched by grace

The scene Aethelwulf saw

Sweet sickly smelled the killing scene

Where so much rich red blood congealed

The scene seemed intimate, serene

As if some sacred scroll was sealed

Until all of their blood had chilled

He lay in shock and shook with grief

As violently as they’d been killed

This aftermath brought no relief

There was there then a strange bond sealed

Between him and that Dane

As both their blood seeped and congealed

Those two lay there in pain

Yet really he could not see why

All these men here just had to die

Then Aethelwulf laid his head back

His sight began to fade

He lay there on his broken back

He felt cold and afraid

Twas then his life flashed passed him there

He’d been a happy boy

His childhood times seemed round him there

With all their tears and joy [28]

The Dane reached out his arm at last

His sword he held up high

"Odhinn I see my life ebbs fast

And I know how to die" [29]

The Dane then died but none there cried

Aethelwulf felt some loss

As sunrise cast a shadow wide

That sword seemed like the Cross

Then from great height he saw a light

He heard the angels’ song

And his soul soared up to this sight

For his own faith was strong

In Valhalla and Paradise

The two of them now dwell

For neither seemed that full of vice

That they be claimed by Hel

The Capture

When Gudrum had been hunted down

A sad bedraggled thing

They brought him down into the town

Before their Saxon king

"Get out your knife and flay me here

And do what’s always done

I know that vengeance is quite near

A duty for my son

Life for a life, Death for a death

In this we’re always true

We’re faithful to our dying breath

Odhinn we’re pledged to you

All rites and rituals of our caste

Tell us we must be fair

Until we die and then at last

We’re freed from worldly care..."

"Enough of this" King Alfred said

"I give to you your life

I do not know all your wronged dead

I do not care for strife.

‘Life for a life’ – I grant you yours

Now what is owed to me?

I do not ask for slavish chores

And so you may go free

You know you are my debtor now

So to Fri why be true?

And as a king you need not bow

I’ll be like kin to you

Your folk will know I gave you life

I kept you free from harm

They cannot bring me now more strife

Has Thor now lost his charm?

A debt you owe you must repay

You owe your life to me

And so until your dying day

That’s how things are to be"

Gudrum’s Thoughts

"My kinfolk are not tied to me

If I turn to the Cross

So while he may have set me free

Both of us face a loss

Some of us are good and true

And some of us are wise

Though some of us are wily too

And have great skill at lies

For Loki he has taught us all

The best don’t always win

For was not Balder caused to fall

Cut down there by his kin?

Gudrum may not now here avenge

But every Dane that fell

Has kinfolk who must seek revenge

And send a soul to Hel!"

The bishops gathered by the king

All fell for Gudrum’s ruse

Alfred thought mercy had a sting

Gudrum prayed that he’d lose

Alfred’s thoughts

"How could this pagan risk his soul

And turn his back on Thor"

Though contradictions may seem droll

Alfred felt insecure

The booty

The Raven’s flag was taken there

Valhalla rang with woe

The Christian king took it with care

Who can believe this foe?

"Life for a life", he gave us ours

We did not lose our skins

His priests drone on for many hours

It’s chaos here that wins

Old certainties now drift like mist

Above the morning ground

Their balance has the longer list

Life debts are all around

We’re told a lot of nationhood

"England" not "Saxony"

But Berserks form a brotherhood

And all Danes must be free

The pendulum may swing away

Towards this Saxon king

But when it swings the other way

Valhalla’s hosts will sing

Christians beat down our fathers too

Drove Fri out from each glade

At Bamburgh we made them rue

Blood debts must all be paid

Now Gudrum sold his soul for Danes

Went to the void all hate

He and a few have borne great pains

To save the Danes estate

Gudrum’s Secret Council

"I gambled on the lives of men

The Raven I ignored

And so now we must honour them

And I must be deplored

In this I set free all good Danes

And few need share my fate

These Christians they have caused such pains

That they deserve all hate

If I become a hateful thing

The loss is worth the price

One day we’ll beat this Saxon king

So this is my advice

Don’t waste good lives where you can’t win

Strike where the foe is weak

And never let their priests come in

For each of them’s a sneak

Loki gave Hoth the ivy bough [30]

That ran sweet Balder through

Gudrum must be the ivy now

In this deceit I do

These Christians seem a hungry lot

They crave the souls of men

Yet still few true men have forgot

The misdeeds done by them

We must be true to all our kin

I’ll be true by deceit

There’s lots of ways that we can win

Now is the time to cheat

We can’t yet win by feat of arms

Our army’s faced a rout

But all the Noki and their charms

May turn the Norns around

Bifrost the rainbow’s in the sky

We know his portent’s strong

The gods decide we live and die

And who is right and wrong

Bifrost, the rainbow, portent of the Norns

"When rainbows span that great divide

Asgard and Midgard touch

But there’s no door that’s open wide

There’s none that men can clutch

Bifrost portends what yet may be

Between the gods and man

So some few Noki yet may see

That is, of those who can

The Norns though might not yet reveal

For that has been their way

Through what they show or they conceal

All things will have their day

When Bifrost fades and then is gone

Chaos may seek new rout

For when the glorious rainbow’s shone

The Norns may be about"

The Norns they guide the fates of all

Skuld guides the future’s road

We must hope that she hears our call

Our hopes must not corrode

We’ve fought so long these Christian knaves

We’ve fought to right each wrong

They still would have our souls as slaves

Unless we all stay strong

And who would want the flaying knife

To slice off all our skin?

No hero wants to end their life

As blood debts for their kin

Our swords and axes must stay keen

Berserks must wait the day

New victories that we pray may mean

These Christians fade away

They turned on us so long ago

But memory is long

They’ve caused us so much needless woe

That we’ve learned to be strong

The Goddess Mother Fri’s so sweet

But Thor is needed too

If we are ever now to beat

Their Roman cult’s false view

The mischief that they have long done

Our Goddesses they hate

They claim their God’s the only one

A male without a mate?

They seem to act against the earth

The mother of us all

That’s why they’re of such little worth

Their oaths mean nought at all"

The Peace of Wedmore [31]

This Peace of King Alfred and King Gudrum

And the witan of the English nation

And all those people of East Anglia

All have agreed and with their oaths confirmed

For them and all of their kin and children too

Who reckon by Gods mercy and by ours:-

First

It is agreed that our boundaries shall be

On the Thames and then along the river Lea

From Lea’s source thence to Bedford shall it go

Then up the Ouse and on to Watling Street

Second

If man be slain, both Dane or Englishman

We here agree to fix an equal cost

For each to each are equally held dear

The English churl equal to Dane freeman

Their loss paid for in shillings is the plan

Third

And those accused may clear themselves by oath

Each swears before his own if he so dares

Or pays that which is due there in three shares

Fourth

And when buying slaves, horses and oxen

Let everyman his warrantor declare

Fifth

And to show trust we have in all our trade

Each will give hostages across to each

Who may be forfeit in the case of breech

Gudrum’s Baptism and Fate

To Aller then they took Gudrum

The rituals were complete

Throughout it all he felt quite numb

Still headstrong in defeat

For seven days he pondered on

A melancholy sight

And while his soul felt truly wan

He bore up through his plight

And at the end he went back home

Back into Danelaw

His hair turned white like ocean foam

His nerves were always raw

He knew that he was full of hate

Hate for that Saxon king

He knew that it was now his fate

To be a useless thing

Those battles on the battlefield

Were easier, you know

But battles in his heart revealed

He did not know his foe

Sonnets to melancholy

Gudrum’s Sonnet 1

Cheating Hope

The soul when carried to the heights of joy

By music or by all the sounds of spring

No retching, no, nor vomiting could cloy

Delusions are so sure and pure a thing

They can take grip upon a healthy brain

All joys are there to hide a lethal bite

For happiness and hope are all in vain

To fall we must first climb up to a height

The higher we climb further we may fall

But further that we fall more is the hurt

Great pain comes when we’ve listened to Hope’s call

There’s nothing in this life that will stay sweet

For all our Hopes are nothing but a cheat

Gudrum’s Sonnet 2

At end we’re all forgot

As he surveys the wreckage of his life

And looks upon the ruin of all Hope

The Vanity of all that pointless strife

There is no point in seeming now to cope

Just like the cargo of a shattered ship

Hope’s strewn along the shore line of disgrace

Despair is there, its cup is at his lip

And failure stalks him now in this new place

A fool he was to strive and seek for right

A clown he was to try to help the weak

All must cave in before an unjust might

There’s victory for the thief, the cheat, the sneak

Delusion and illusion are the lot

It’s vain to strive – at end – we’re all forgot

Gudrum’s Sonnet 3

Hope is a cheat

Oh, be at peace the failure is complete

The bitterness can fade to pure despair

For there is nothing now that will be sweet

The loss is total here and everywhere

There is no need to try and fight and strive

No point at all in futile emptiness

This strange state that some call ‘to be alive’

Yet is in truth an empty wilderness

That flickers its illusions for each soul

Then cheats each out of its more wholesome state

And with each neat delusion truth is stole

And lost in all the mists of hope and hate

To fail in life is what we all must do

For Fate’s no cheat – it’s Hope that can’t be true

Gudrum’s Sonnet 4

We all end dead

Do not delude yourself to Hope at all

Nor strive, nor try, nor care for what is right

Deluded Hopes are like the Siren’s call

For hate and fate and power have the might

And in that sin of Hope all truth will fade

Vain striving is the straight way to the grave

It’s a delusion of a sunlit glade

There is no point at all in being brave

The one truth is that there’s futility

In thinking, acting, doing anything

And all, yes all, we know is Vanity

Despair is crowned eternally the king

The truth we know and has for long been said

No matter what we do we all end dead

He’d thought by simple subterfuge

By Loki he’d survive

But this was not a sure refuge

He just felt half alive

All of the gods now seemed so dark

The wind, the wave, the tide

And choices now seemed few and stark

The torrent fast and wide

The tales they told these Christians here

Started to resonate

But could he hide each secret fear

Did Loki twist his fate...?

Gudrum’s Prayer to Hel

"Dear Hel the Dark to you I plead

I yearn now for the pyre

My dearest, greatest one best need

To die and face that fire

My soul is lost at such great cost

May Frigg now guide my kin

I know that my last battle’s lost

I know I’ll never win

I’m so distressed I would be blessed

To feel Death’s fatal sting

With Hel my soul may have more rest

Here I’m a useless thing

So Lady Dark with you I’ll dwell

Take me there to the cold

My Life here’s just a living hell

And I should not die old... "

Confusion in the mind can bring

Weakness to stronger folk

Gudrum became a useless thing

Some saw him as a joke

He’d led them once but now no more

For some the fight went on

As Gudrum walked along the shore

Old certainties had gone

How could they have come quite so near

And not got all their way

His men were brave they showed no fear

And yet had lost the day

Those shields it seemed were like a wall

And yet moved like this wave

He thought he’d heard a rhythmic call

Felt footsteps on his grave

They’d always battered through the line

Hacking more to the right [32]

And this had always worked quite fine

Yet now they lose each fight

Could those shields all have been entwined

So that you can’t break in?

And must the Danes now be resigned

Unable now to win?

A Stone, a Knife, a leather Bag

All share a common fate

For each may lead and each may lag

None has the perfect state

Stone blunts the knife, Knife cuts the Bag

The Bag holds in the Stone

While one may lead so it must lag

Alone none hold the throne

The Saxons aren’t as strong as us

And yet they won the war

And now we’re left to spit and cuss

We’ve not done that before

But how could they have done so well?

These Christians cannot think

They did not rage and scream and yell

And cannot hold their drink

But Gudrum did not know his foe

He knew the myths, that’s all

And it may be what you don’t know

Leads each one to their fall

The stain of trauma

Trauma may leave a darker stain

A certain special scent

And once that’s burned into your brain

Somehow it won’t relent

Now there’s reminders everywhere

That brings it back to mind

For where there’s things we cannot share

Then life becomes a grind

We can smell things that aren’t at hand

Flashbacks burn in the brain

Tormented minds just cannot stand

The trauma and its stain

False scents seem true to haunted men

Whose torments won’t relent

And they are only ended when

All of life’s force is spent

Survivors carry such a cost

Too much for some to stand

And when it seems all hope is lost

They die by their own hand

Why do we let our young men die

In so much pointless strife

Though many more are wasted by

A long but blighted life

Gudrum just lived a few years more

He sank beneath the weight

The Norns knew all of this before

It had become his fate

Men are what life may make of them

Boy Gudrum was a Dane

We know the root throws up the stem

When watered by clean rain

He’d learned the ways of fighting men

He was a man of war

The spirit may be broken when

It’s been shamed to the core

He did not have a Christian grave

They burned him on a pyre

The worms should not feed on the brave

His widow lit the fire

And then she took the charred remains

And had men build a cairn

And as she felt these bitter pains

She gave suck to his bairn

The Ashes in the cairn

A little piece of earth

A little piece of land

In the mountain pasture

Or on this shore’s sand

A sign of your worth

Upon your funeral day

Stones heaped in a gesture

That you had been this way

Mother’s milk

"Drink, Gudrum’s boy, your mother’s milk

Drink all my bitter tears

Remember Christians and their ilk

Remember all your years

Remember how they plundered Fri

Remember all their wrongs

Then until the day you die

Sing all of Bragi’s songs

Sing of the slaying of the foe

Blood-Eagle captured kings

And let those Saxon villains know

What Gudrum’s woman sings

I sing of hate and yet more hate

Against the Christian swine

May it, my son, be now your fate

To end King Alfred’s line."

She brought her boys up in her ways

She caught a Christian priest

He lived Blood-Eagled for two days

The high guest at her feast

She toasted him with horns of mead

She put brands to his feet

Her children shared this sacred deed

Vengeance can be so sweet

But Mother Fri could only cry

The Norns controlled all fate

She hoped that Gudrum’s bairn might die

Knowing much more than hate

Children should know of Mother’s love

And feel some tenderness

But here in Asgard, here above

Fri only felt distress

Earth Mother of our bounteous earth

She sighed there oh, so sad

She wondered on that widow’s worth

And what had turned her mad

Dark Pages

The gibbet and the rope

The blood soaked block, the axe

With kings who conquer Hope

How can our kind relax

The blood that’s on the ground

The poison in the cup

With all of this around

Oh, come now, do drink up

The hate that will not pass

The blood that’s left a stain

More will be and surpass

The past with all it’s pain

The strong who do not care

With so much spite and hate

Indifferent they stare

Is all this down to fate?

The gibbet and the rope

More blood drips from the sword

The thugs that kill all hope

It’s throttled with their cord

The power of the few

May well be turned on each

In this there’s nothing new

Good times are out of reach

Peace Broken

They broke the Peace of Wedmore then

And Saxons cut them down

And though they tried time and again

The Danes slipped from renown

The chant to Loki

To know nothing sweet, the heat of his ire

All bent on deceit, the word of the liar

The snide n’ the sneak, the grime n’ the ash

The harm to the weak, where virtue is rash

All has such a cost, the soul that is bought

The truth that is lost, for nothing is taught

Just like a dead thing, all’s frozen in vice

All’s priced by this king and gone in a trice

When reckoners come, to seek what is stole

Then we remain dumb, or ache in the soul

Sonnet

Loki – Lord of Uncertainty

Of all the gods who hated Alfred most

Loki detested this foul Christian king

Much more than all of Asgard’s ageing host

All faith to Loki is a hateful thing

Loki the lord of chaos and of change

Fostered all doubt and hated piousness

All stable faith to Loki just seemed strange

His lies are not just signs of fickleness

Lord Loki helps men cope when faith is dead

When all held dear has been struck down by chance

He mocks them and the words that they have said

What once was wrong may now see new advance

Loki when our old certainties are gone

We turn to you so that we may move on

Judgmental

There’s folly in all judgments and in none

There’s certainty that’s true in total doubt

There’s folly in all deeds and what’s not done

Yet there’s a way that chaos works things out

The Goddess of the future fates

The Gods in Asgard seemed to sleep

Or turn their minds away

As Danish widows moan and weep

The Noki dance and sway

They sought to change the fate of men

To help their people win

The Christians they would curse them then

And call their craft a sin

They would not let just one witch live

For they must burn them all

They ask God’s love but can’t forgive

So answer Satan’s call

But Noki by the sea one night

Beneath a waning moon

Sought refuge in that second sight

They see before they swoon

In Bragi’s name through each refrain

They asked Skuld for that sight

Idu the Noki felt the pain

And then screamed out in fright

A bloody ghost of some dead slave

Embraced her as a friend

And he said that he now forgave

Those who had caused his end

"Your kind came here to take this land

You make the orphan slave

Is Danish doom now close at hand?

Noki can you be brave?

You are a part of our land now

And it’s a part of you

Gudrum by now has broke his vow

But Loki will be true!

True to the falsehood that’s his game

Deceit will be deceived

It matters not the names I name

For you’ll not be believed"

He held her hand through vistas grand

And showed her all men’s fate

"A future’s planned here in this land

The Danes may know too late

The Oak, the Ash, the Elm, and Yew

Grow tall on Albion’s isle

And what you view may well come true

Don’t waste your time with guile

The Norns dictate so know your fate

And to your gods be true

Then try some love as well as hate

Then I will lie with you

I’ll come in dreams and show you schemes

Of what kings plan to do

And right until the daylight beams

I’ll spend each night with you

The perfect prophet you will be

Until your dying day

Though you can share your dreams with me

Be wary what you say

For you’ve a curse the very worse

The Seer who is alone

For though you speak in prose or verse

No one will heed your tone"

Idu the Noki had a fit

Her mouth was wet with froth

On waking her hot brow was knit

She was frail as a moth

Though dark and deep she could not weep

The future she could see

But now in silence she must keep

Her tongue from being free

The elder Noki saw some signs

And felt a little grief

But in old age she now resigns

Locked in some disbelief

From thence on Idu slept a lot

And she’d smile in her sleep

As when she talked men called it rot

They now don’t hear her peep

And she and Sild walk through the years

The years that are to come

And Idu often shed some tears

But Idu had turned dumb

She saw the fall of all her Danes

And saw them rise again

She saw them on far distant plains

She saw and she knew when

She saw the things that Morchan saw

All those long years ago

She felt great winds quite cold and raw

And felt the summers glow

She met the Seers of future years

Not all would wear her gag

She shared the hopes, she shared the fears

She had no need to brag

The Norns gave Idu for a wife

To some man from the sea

She had a long contented life

For what will be will be

The gods of her place weren’t so dark

The wind, the wave, the tide

Her choices then were few not stark

In her dreams she could hide

The Noki’s Sonnet – Idu and her dreams

Dawn-time in morning awakens the mind

You’ve travelled through dreams that flutter and change

When dream-time’s a‘fading day can seem unkind

For wake-time it seems is curious and strange

The hint of a murmur may whisper your name

That is the way that the cowards may scheme

By dint of a rumour you’re brought to shame

Whilst whisperers fade just like some lost dream

Windows a’glint with the dark of the day

The smile of the traitor, the frown of a friend

And though there’s a hint of what you ought say

Still no one believes you right to the end

When soul took flight away from the screaming

It found new height in the place of dreaming

Idu asleep and dreaming

Before the Dawn and wakefulness

There within the land of dreams

She tossed and turned as in distress

Ah, but is she as she seems?

Where in her rolling firm closed eyes

Does she wander in her mind?

And in there are there sneaks and lies?

In dreams her eyes are not blind

Then after dawn comes wakefulness

And she leaves the land of dreams

So, here lost she learns true distress

Ah, but is all as all seems?

While, here there’s much that is unkind

In her hearing sneaks and lies

And there’s much that is a grind

As tears flow from her open eyes

After dusk comes restfulness

Back within the land of dreams

Though what she dreams no one can guess

Ah, but is all as all seems?

The Blood-Eagling of a priest

A priest he had his ribs spread out

They nailed him on a board

A raging widow danced about

As he prayed to his Lord

A Noki gave him some strange drink

Before they cut his chest

Was it insane for him to think

This Noki could be blessed?

The drink he drank on that first day

Made this all seem unreal

It seemed to take much pain away

His chest he could not feel

Below he saw that raging Queen

She danced about so wild

Yet through it all he felt serene

His blood now soaked her child

Idu the Noki she had said

The gods would get no glee

They did not want this poor man dead

But that was not to be

The last prayer

"Dear Lord of Grace

My fate I face

Though I must die this way

Here nailed on high

To you I cry

Now on my final day

Send no revenge

Please don’t avenge

To you my God I pray"

Idu gave him another drink

For two days she’d looked grim

He saw she gave a little wink

As if she cared for him

Nightshade

Nightshade has its berries

So juicy and so bright

Just like little cherries

Enticing to the sight

The eyes may be deceived

The toxins are more true

And they must be believed

Once they’re inside of you

For Nightshade needs to spread

Its seeds all round about

Long after you are dead

The new seedlings will sprout

Then in that place he went to Grace

Idu had helped him on

That raging widow’s angry face

All at once turned wan

"Noki tell me what you have done"

Idu she walked away

And right there with the setting sun

There came the end of Day

This Ravaged Land

A hamlet burned there on a heath

Some raiders passed that way

To justify their own belief

They killed and thieved that day

Victim’s Grief

The long, slow slide through Grief

All the way to death

No faith nor no belief

Until the final breath

So burdensome the pain

Each day passes slow

With everything a strain

Yet no one need know

Each minute like a day

Moments dragging by

No words left to say

Waiting just to die

In private all the tears

Yet no one will know

Throughout the dragging years

Life is just for show

Awash with too much grief

Waiting just for death

Rejecting all belief

Until the final breath

Victim’s Rage

The raging deep inside

The weeping and the shame

This raging that you hide

You’ll never feel the same

Life has been turned all stark

There’s no glow in the soul

A heart turned cold and dark

The world’s now this hell hole

So now there’s no more fun

No happy joyous days

No warmth felt from the sun

On balmy summer days

The rage is all inside

The guts all taut with knots

Memories you can’t abide

Inside the soul just rots

When life is lived through hate

And love’s all gone away

May be it is now fate

That someone has to pay

Scenarios dreamed through

A hundred thousand times

For there is nothing new

In vengeance and its crimes

The raging deep inside

The yearning to strike back

The raging that you hide

As you plot each attack

The heart that beats so fast

As you scheme your revenge

You feel it to the last

The deep need to avenge

The knife plunged in the chest

The cudgel or the rock

Such violence and unrest

That dead face that you mock

The choice becomes quite clear

Avenge or walk away

Surrender to the fear

Or make those low dogs pay

Victim’s Healing

The rising of the sun

Upon another day

New races to be run

As all do what they may

Cold winds along the shore

A turquoise coloured sky

With this and so much more

Lost is the urge to cry

This glorious new sunrise

The sky both pink and blue

Is now sweet to the eyes

It’s time now to renew

The sunrise does seem slow

Above this calm blue sea

Though none may ever know

Just what is going to be

The chill lights of the dawn

The new day that is here

The old hopes are reborn

Slow kindles some new cheer

The sun’s now in the sky

Still low there in the East

With eyes that are now dry

Not all the pain has ceased

Still fragile is the soul

As some scars do run deep

You’ve climbed out of that hole

And there’s less need to weep

Some burdens are still there

But Dawn now lights the sky

A new day’s in the air

The urge now comes – to try

To try to start anew

To take up life once more

This Dawn – a lovely view

Though life’s not like before

Before the pain and hurt

Before the harm that’s done

You’ve got up from the dirt

Renewed by Dawn’s cool sun

The venom in the heart

A ravaged land may well turn mad

And everywhere you go

Are scenes that turn the heart quite sad

Whose friend now and whose foe?

It’s said that Woden sliced the worm

The worm that consumed all

Its nine segments were left to squirm

But each can bring the fall

Woden then sowed all those nine plants

The herbs the healers use

No matter what sweet nature grants

These do not stop abuse

A good deed and a bad one

The raped girl lay there by the boat

Spread out upon the ground

She breathed through that slash in her throat

It made a wheezing sound

A strange Dane woman came to her

And she sowed up the gash

She wrapped her in the warmest fur

Secured it with a sash

Then this Dane woman took her too

The great camp of her Danes

"Have you saved me for men to view?"

Then fainted through her pains

She was cared for some fourteen days

Her helper remained mute

Her memories seemed the strangest haze

Of some great evil brute

The Dane woman then took her out

She gave that girl a gown

That same day those Danes faced their rout

She was left by a town

Sonnet

Bad deeds and a good deed

The thrust of the lust of these raiding Danes

As eight of the brutes had taken their turns

And later that day some would come again

The sky's filled with smoke as her village burns

Bruised there she lay on the ground be a boat

The repeated rapes had caused her to bleed

A drunken Dane botched when he cut her throat

He'd felt such rage when he could not shed seed

Then as all about turned into a haze

She thought that on this day she was to die

And Death was there near her for several days

It seemed that he then chose to pass her by

Her life was then saved by some Danish witch

Who’d sewn up her wound with the neatest of stitch

She gave her coin and gave her food

And then she went away

That victim stood in pensive mood

Did life begin that day?

She saw that Danes were not all bad

She told her folk of that

They thought the girl had turned quite mad

And many raged and spat

"Has some foul Noki stained her heart

Why, she’d be better dead"

The stoning then began to start

And all the ground turned red.

Raven’s days

When Raven’s days are done

And Raven’s days are over

Then life will be such fun

And we’ll all be in clover

Ravens do have their day

The end must come to all

When Raven dies away

There’s great joy in the fall

The Danes have raged so long

That life has been quite bleak

Kill those who don’t belong

Especially if they’re weak

A good monk and his good deed

A good monk passing by that way

Then stopped this wicked act

He saved a poor girl’s life that day

Quite brave he showed no tact

Oswald the monk stepped in the way

And stayed this anger deed

"I speak for Church – you must obey

You know that you must heed

‘Thou shalt not kill’ the Lord has said

And I say this to you

It seems all your good faith has fled

This blood shed you will rue

You’ll face the judgement of the Lord

So go home now at least

You do this of your own accord

And I’ll not tell your priest"

Then this good monk he took her to

The home of his close kin

"Oh, good monk what am I to do

Tell me what was my sin?"

The good monk’s folk adopted her

They said that she could stay

She always kept that Noki’s fur

Her life began that day

The Gardens of Glastonbury

The wickerwork was really fine

It was formed into shapes

The King he liked each nice design

But his sour monk just gapes

"They are profane and pagan too"

Cedric the monk then said

"Oh, may these wicked churls here rue

And turn to Christ instead"

"Idolatry is all about"

Cedric ranted with rage

"Yet in our Lord they have no doubt"

The king said to this sage

Why do they weave this wicker so?"

The King said to a thane

"My Lord I really do not know

I just cannot explain"

"Are these false gods?" the monk then said

To men there in that place

"Is that one there of Balder Dead

With ivy on his face?

"And is the big one of Lord Thor?

There’s idols everywhere"

Then one man said "We have much more

But you’ve no need to care

We weave the wicker for we need

To pretty up each fence

By bread alone we do not feed

And nice things make such sense

The willow trees are all around

For they surround each marsh

Does not God put them in the ground?

So why are you so harsh?

The clouds that sweep in from the sea

All float across the land

When rain falls on both you and me

Are false gods there at hand?

Willows sprout up out of the ground

For they grow everywhere

Are they, dear monk, some foul hell hound?

Our God’s for all to share

It seems to me quite very odd

The way you have to shout

For willows are the gift of God

Does your zeal hide some doubt?

These pretty shapes each gardener weaves

Just add to our nice view

They do not show who disbelieves

Or suffer doubt like you."

The garden man then walked away

And went out in the field

And like old pagans in that day

Kept his beliefs concealed

The Garden Man’s Song

Two swans were preening by the reeds

The cob mounted the pen

But no one’s near and no one heeds

Right down here by the fen

And our sweet Goddess, Mother Earth

The mother of us all

Knows all these birds have wond’rous worth

We’ve heard the sky lark’s call

The pen swan went to hide away

The cob called now and then

Until upon that special day

Their nest was full again

Each year more cygnets come in broods

There in amongst the reeds

Though pens may have some fickle moods

They’re just what each cob needs

The cygnets they grew big and strong

One day they flew away

There is no ending to this song

As all the tall reeds sway

The Lady Fri she loved this song

She hung on every chord

That garden man he strolled along

He’d not live by the sword

A monk that day would get his way

He caught and killed that man

Truth’s light they say, that golden ray

Shines only where it can

Give up – go swing

Just watch hope elope

In the arms of despair

There’s no need to cope

As you’re pinned down with care

There’s no choice to make

So go run with the herd

You’re life’s just a fake

And your voice is not heard

You’ve no wish to try

When you’ve been so well cowed

You might wish to sigh

Oh, but not out aloud!

For Hope is a chore

And yes, Hope is a cheat

Defeat is more sure

For you know when you’re beat

So let hope elope

In the arms of despair

Then get some good rope

And go dance in the air

A man of faith, but little worth

There sought to gag a voice

Now many may be cursed from birth

For they may have no choice

When one faith saturates these lands

And seeks to have its way

Then monks may pray with bloodstained hands

And hide their sins away

Fri’s Garden

Fri’s garden now is more complete

With wicker worked to plan

And all her hedges are so neat

Done by her garden man

The Scriptorium at Winchester

Osric the scribe worked that long day

As long as there was light

He only put his quills away

As dusk turned into night

This book of Proverbs he worked on

He copied for his Lord

He rarely saw the sun that shone

And never went abroad

Within the confines of these walls

He now had spent long years

He’d never heard the fairies’ calls

And never did shed tears

A man of plain and simple faith

Who had stuck to his vow

Before him stood what seemed a wraith

What could the monk do now?

He fell down to the floor in fear

He heard a tender voice

"Get up, good monk, there’s no one near

Get up, you face a choice

My name’s Gabrel, I’m sent to you

To guide you in a task

Your work it lacks a tender view

So now do as I ask

Come with me through the world of men

Come outside of the walls

Come see the hills, come see the fen

Come listen to bird calls"

Led by the hand through vistas grand

He saw a wond’rous isle

"God has much planned for your sweet land"

Gabrel said with a smile

"The ebb and flow of how things go

Will not be shown to you

But of this realm there’s much to know

For deeds that you must do.

For scribes like you must copy well

Writing the books of God

And your works here could well excel

You’ll need to be well shod

And go from here with books wrote clear

With these good words you write

And never sneer nor ever fear

The Danes must know what’s right

Your King has dreams and righteous schemes

Of more monks here with you

Who’ll write in teams and write vast reams

And their guide must be true

So walk this land with quill in hand

Record the woods and ways

Then take in hand what has been planned

And guide scribes all your days"

It seemed like Osric had a fit

His mouth was wet with froth

That night beside a cross he’d sit

He was frail as a moth

So Osric did as he was bid

And wandered round our land

And Gabrel saw that nought was hid

And helped him understand

He went outside into the realm

And wandered for a year

He knew soon he would take the helm

But this gave him no fear

The flowers in the field and fen

The plants by each wayside

Osric the monk he saw it then

God’s work spread far and wide

Each flower and leaf helped his belief

Helped him see Christ as King

Through sin and all of men’s mischief

Not all could see this thing

For God is found here all around

In his creative zest

His small herbs that spring from the ground

Seemed far above the rest

Aspen Leaves

Aspen leaves will quiver

Here on the slightest breeze

Their dance seems to deliver

A gentle sense of ease

Cooling winds in August

Throughout this long hot day

Each gentle little gust

Will bring relief our way

These leaves that seem to dance

In each soft gentle breeze

Give to circumstance

A gentle sense of ease

The Ivy Buds

The ivy buds are showing

Autumn’s with us now

The cold sun is glowing

So now make this vow

"There is no place for hurt

There is no time for pain"

Just try not to be curt

Be patient and explain

"The poor souls of the cursed

The misdeeds of the bad

So quick to cause a hurt

Will themselves turn sad

Their summers will end too

Though deeds may cause much pain

In autumn they may rue

So sweet words must explain"

The ivy honey’s sweet

The best you get from bees

In autumn time we meet

But few may be at ease

Then ivy buds will bloom

As autumn turns more cold

There is no knowing whom

May last to grow more old.

Michaelmas

Those Michaelmas Daisies

That grow by the stream

Of flowers of the autumn

These are so supreme

With Michaelmas Daisies

We’re late in the year

As daylight grows shorter

So winter is near

These Michaelmas Daisies

Here by the stream’s flow

Of all our wild flowers

These make the best show

Flowers and Water Weeds

There’s flowers in the fields

There’s flowers in the hedge

An