The Chosen Queen (45 page)

I have taken some artistic licence with this visit. There is documented evidence that Vikings travelled to Wales and invaded England from that vantage point, though sources
(notably the
Brut y Tywysogyon
or Chronicle of the Princes) suggest that they were led not by Hardrada himself but by his son, Magnus. Harald, however, did travel widely around the North
Sea and the Atlantic – including quite feasibly to the legendary ‘Vineland’ (Newfoundland in America) – so it is perfectly possible that he could have been part of such a
landing.

It is documented that Harold’s ship was wrecked at Ponthieu and that he was rescued from Count Guy by William himself and thereafter spent some time in the ducal court,
fighting with William in a successful Brittany campaign and making some sort of oath before he left. What is not documented (as it did not interest contemporary chroniclers) is
why
he
went. Theories range from him being blown off-course on a fishing trip, to him trying to rescue his hostage brother and nephew, to him being on a diplomatic mission from King Edward. We will never
know but I hope my version is consistent with my characters.

There is no formal recording of King Edward bequeathing his throne with his final breaths, simply a deliberately mysterious report in the far from reliable
Vita Edwardi
Regis
(the ‘Life of King Edward’ commissioned as a medieval PR exercise by Queen Aldyth) that he commended ‘to Harold’s care the queen, the kingdom and the foreigners
who had served Edward well’. Harold, however, was crowned the next day and given that he had long been recognised in formal documents as ‘sub-regulus’, or under-king, there seem
to be few grounds for dispute regarding Edward’s intentions.

In Anglo-Saxon times having royal blood was only one of the criteria for becoming king and definitely not the most important one, that being the ability to defend the country against enemies.
There was no rule of primogeniture – a Norman introduction – and the Witan, or Council, held the right to elect the man that they saw most fit to rule. Harold, in 1066, was undoubtedly
that man.

If history does not record why Harold travelled to Normandy in 1064, it also fails to document why he chose to march on Hastings before his northern reinforcements made it to
London. For such an experienced and battle-hardened warrior it seems a reckless and impatient mistake – one that cost him his life and kingdom – so why did he do it?

William was ravaging the lands around Hastings which were in Harold’s patrimonial earldom of Wessex so he would have felt a duty to defend his people there as soon as possible. It could
also be true that as speed helped him defeat Hardrada, he wished to persist in pressing forward. William’s troops do seem to have suffered from severe dysentery so he may have been hoping
they were still weak. Plus, so many troops milling around London would have been costly and violent and keeping them moving would have been a sound strategy. Harold must also have been on a high
from defeating Hardrada, exhausted from a summer of waiting and the long march north, and desperate to get rid of this final invader. Once in the south he would have had less control of timings,
being at the mercy of William’s advancing army, but it certainly seems likely that fighting the battle a day or two later would have been wiser.

We do not know for sure that the men who apparently lured a large number of pursuing Normans into a ravine after the battle existed or that, if they did, they were Edwin and Morcar’s
troops. The brothers were in London defending Edgar Atheling very shortly afterwards, however, so they definitely did ride south and it seems more than probable it was their troops. If so, it can
honestly be said that Harold may have lost England in the last hour of the Battle of Hastings and that had the northern men made it a little sooner (or if Harold had waited for them before going
into battle) history could have been so very different.

There is no hard evidence of where King Harold is buried. Two stories exist: the first is that his body was rescued by Svana (or in some versions his mother) and taken to
Waltham Abbey. The second is that William scornfully had him buried on a cliff somewhere on the south coast to look out at the dukedom that had ‘reclaimed’ the English throne from him.
What seems to be fairly well established is that his poor hacked-up corpse was identified by Svana because of a mole on his shoulder. I simply took these reports and transposed the mole onto Avery
to create a dramatic and hopefully credible ending.

In 1067 Edyth gave birth to a baby boy whom she named Harold and who could, had history only been a turn of a battle different, have ruled after his father. We do not know what
happened to Edyth in the aftermath of 1066 but she may well have escaped to Ireland with Svana’s three elder sons who launched abortive rebellions against William in the south-west in 1067,
1068 and 1069, possibly to try to put the young Harold on the throne. Edyth’s brothers also attempted rebellion in the north in 1068 and again in 1070, when Edwin was killed and Morcar
imprisoned for life.

The young Harold reappears thirty years later at the Norwegian court. It seems that he may have been welcomed by Magnus II, Harald Hardrada’s son, because Harold had treated him so well in
letting him retreat with his ships after the Battle of Stamford Bridge. He could also, of course, have been a possible inspiration for a further attempt at invading England but, if so, that never
happened.

Edyth, Edwin, Morcar and Nesta may have gone with the royal child to Norway, but there is a clear record of Nesta marrying Osbern FitzRichard, son of the Norman lord who built Richard’s
Castle (one of the few stone castles built in England before the conquest) near Ludlow. As this is very near to the border of Wales it is tempting to consider the possibility that Edyth at some
point returned to her first husband’s country but we have no concrete evidence of this.

P
eople and
P
laces

Westminster

Readers will note that Westminster is portrayed here as being on Thorney Island. This is a well documented fact and shows the significant changes London’s landscape has
seen over the centuries. Thorney Island was created by the Tyburn river which came from the hills of South Hampstead and divided between what is now St James’ Park and Buckingham Palace,
cutting Thorney Island off from the ‘mainland’. The Tyburn, along with various other ancient rivers and streams, still exists but it was sunk into brick sewers in the early nineteenth
century and now flows well beneath London’s pavements and buildings.

I may have been harsh on the character of Earl Tostig in that there is some evidence to suggest that far from being the womaniser of my story he was a pious and faithful man.
The nickname ‘Torr’ – the Anglo-Saxon word for ‘Tower’ – is of my own making and I have borrowed some of his reputation from that of his wild older brother Svein
who died in 1052 before this tale begins. Earl Tostig was, however, undoubtedly known to be hard on his northern subjects and inclined to spend as much of his time in the south as possible which
led to the very unusual civil rebellion of 1065. The key facts of the northern rebellion as used in this story are well documented and lend weight to the idea that he was a hard and unpopular
man.

Lovers of Shakespeare will, I hope, be pleased to see the real Macbeth make an appearance in this story. He ruled Scotland between 1040 and 1057 with his son Lulach then
succeeding him for a year. Malcolm fled to England where he seems to have been fostered by Earl Ward (Siward) of Northumbria and brought to court where King Edward – who was himself an exile
in Normandy for years – supported him. It was English armies who helped Prince Malcolm win back his throne, a process which took several years between 1054 and 1058 and which came at
considerable cost to Earl Siward as his adult son, Osbeorn, was killed in battle. Osbeorn’s death meant that there was no natural successor as Earl of Northumbria when Siward died of old age
the following year – thus opening the way for Earl Torr and the chain of events this story explores.

Whilst Nesta is almost certainly Edyth’s daughter, there is some confusion in texts about whether Ewan (Idwal) and Morgan (Maredudd) were actually hers or Griffin’s
sons from some previous mistress, perhaps Lady Gwyneth. Given how long Edyth was queen, however, it seems likely that they were hers.

There is, I must confess, absolutely no historical evidence about a friendship between these two women (and certainly no letters), but friendships were not something
Anglo-Saxon chroniclers were interested in. It is true, however, that Edyth would have been in East Anglia during her father’s rule as earl between 1051 and 1055 so would more than likely
have met Svana (Eadyth Swanneck), a key landholder within the area, a number of times. The rest is my own fancy and I hope readers enjoyed it.

Given that some of the original names of the characters are either hard to pronounce or confusingly common I have made some changes to help the flow of the story for the modern
reader. For the curious, however, here are the original names: