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Vikings 5 Recap, Episode 5: THE PRISONER

Ivar watching the battle from the wall and enjoying himself.

Let’s start with where the rats were living.

Was the ground underneath 9th century York really honeycombed with Roman tunnels? I do not know. Let’s think about it.

Ground level in Viking Age York was 21 feet below today’s ground level. Could ground level of Roman Age York have been another 9 feet below that? Well, my mathematical calculation, positing .2 inches of rising ground level per year, indicates that it was possible. (I majored in English, so take my calculation with a grain of salt.) And Roman barracks have been found beneath York minster. But sewers? With trap doors leading up into the streets of Viking Age York? That seems a little too unlikely. Nevertheless, Ivar needed a plan for winning his battle, so series creator Michael Hirst gave him one. This. Is. Fiction.

I have to say, though, that it was kind of ludicrous that the Vikings were able to come boiling out of their underground lair to meet with so little resistance. They had to emerge one at a time and it seems to me that a simple game of whack-a-Viking was called for, yet the Saxons were incredibly inept at it.

The title of the episode, THE PRISONER refers, most obviously, to Bishop Heahmund who midway through the hour becomes Ivar’s prisoner. Ivar apparently admires the bishop for his fighting prowess. Indeed, he stops the battle at one point, just to give the bishop a horse. Poor Richard III, many years later, would not be given that advantage, although it didn’t really help Heahmund much. Also, I don’t know about you but I kept wondering why some Saxon archer didn’t just send an arrow into Ivar, who was standing on top of a wall making a target of himself. Maybe nobody had time to look up. I’ve never fought a battle in the streets of Viking Age York, so what do I know.

The Saxons lost, of course, but Queen Judith, tending to the wounded, made a wonderful contrast to the glamorous Kassia, down in Africa. I bet Kassia wouldn’t have done that!

Queen Judith in a stressful moment.

Heahmund, portrayed accurately as a man of his time, is not only Ivar’s prisoner by episode’s end, but also a prisoner of his own prejudices and convictions and hatreds, don’t you think? And now, he is being transported to the Viking homeland by Ivar. What will Hirst explore in the conflict he has set up between these two characters that he has not already touched upon with Ragnar and Athelstan? Perhaps a great deal, since Ivar does not have his father’s insatiable curiosity and the bishop does not have Athelstan’s merciful nature.

Speaking of the Viking Homeland, Floki has returned to Kattegat in order to recruit true believers like himself and lead them to the gods’ promised land. He has to do it in secret because Lagertha is not keen on losing warriors. Ubbe expresses doubt that Floki actually found the land of the gods and tells Floki he’s nuts. But Floki knows what he knows, and our last glimpse of Ubbe is of a man who is not sure what to believe. I’m wondering what Hirst is planning for Ubbe. He is in marked contrast to his far more lethal brothers, Ivar and Hvitserk. Does Hirst see him as a foil? Or will Ubbe somehow prevail?

Floki sees himself as more than a boat builder. He has a mission.

Down in Africa, Bjorn is riding a camel and he looks horribly uncomfortable doing it. Camels are the ships of the desert, and poor Bjorn, stuck on this thing because he’s accepted the job of Euphemius’ bodyguard, looks like he’d give anything to be back on a real ship.

Bjorn! Sit up straight!

And now we pick up the theme of PRISONER again, because while his bodyguards are being seduced by drugs and sex, poor Euphemius has been imprisoned by Ziyadat Allah at Kassia’s request, and although he escapes, neither he nor the guards who let him get away survive the episode. The showrunners regale us with a little light-hearted butchery humor which I didn’t find funny. I liked the final scene though, a great cliff-hanger. Bjorn and Halfdan are now the prisoners,

Two dudes in big trouble.

with a blood-thirsty Kassia eager to see murder done, a massive windstorm approaching, and Bjorn with a little something up his sleeve. Nice.

Photos of VIKINGS © The History Channel


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Vikings 5 Recap, Episode 4: THE PLAN

I have to confess that I was just a wee bit distracted this week by Bjorn’s long, blond plait and Lagertha’s intricately braided and metal-studded coiffure.

Look at Bjorn’s braid. Down to his waist.

Lagertha’s hair is plaited into a crown.

Whoever is doing the make-up and hair styling on this series is having a field day, but the actors, especially Katheryn Winnick, must spend hours in the stylist chair. Some of her braids are so tiny and tight I don’t know how she can remember her lines! And while I’m on this topic, I wonder how long it takes to paint on all those tattoos that cover some of the actors practically from head to toe. I know the Vikings probably had a lot of down time in the winter, but still!

But I digress. The settings for this episode change with every scene as we follow the various characters and their story arcs from Gibraltar to York to Kattegat to Sicily to York to Kattegat to Sicily to Kattegat – see what I mean? It’s dizzying. I wish they wouldn’t hop about quite so much.

If anyone in this episode has a plan, as the title suggests, it’s Ivar. We know that because he tells Hvitserk “I have a plan” although he doesn’t ever say what the plan is and we are left wondering about it. Ivar and Hvitserk are squabbling, naturally, because Ivar is an obnoxious, controlling nutcase. We don’t like Ivar. We’re not supposed to like Ivar. He is not meant to be a good guy, and he probably wasn’t one in real life, either. No worries. At least his mother loved him.

Ivar & Hvitserk in York, & we do not want to know what their friends are burning.

Outside the walls of York our king-of-kings-bretwalda-king-of-wessex Æthelwulf finally grows tired of Bishop Heahmund telling him what to do as they try to outwit Ivar. This is understandable. Heahmund always sounds like he’s reciting a really boring speech that he’s been forced against his will to memorize. His voice is a monotone and his face wooden. Is this supposed to imply that he doesn’t really believe any of the pious platitudes, the visions, the claims about God’s wrath that he mouths? The most interesting thing that he says comes when they finally enter York to find it deserted and the cathedral full of trash and vermin; Heahmund stuns us – and Æthelwulf – by asking “Why are the rats above ground?” Could this be part of Ivar’s plan? Hopefully we’ll find out next week.

Over in Kattegat Lagertha welcomes Ubbe home and they become allies even though he still resents her for killing his mum (who liked Ivar best, anyway). Meantime Margrethe badmouths Lagertha to both Ubbe and Torvi (Bjorn’s wife). It backfires on her when Lagertha overhears her, but instead of punishing Margrethe, Lagertha’s response is a mild one, promising respect if Margrethe has the courage to be loyal. Wow. No bloodshed. Not even a slap. Lagertha, you rock.

In Vestfold Astrid finally decides to marry Harald because, she says, at some point one has to accept that you can’t deny fate. They are married under the ribcage of a whale and she only makes him sweat a little when she hesitates before saying ‘I do’. I don’t know about you, but I still don’t have a good feeling about where this is going. I worry about Astrid and that whale of a wedding doesn’t make me feel better.

Bjorn and Halfdan, meanwhile, have sailed through the Pillars of Hercules into the Mediterranean where they meet a ruler named Euphemius and a nun named Kassia who is so extravagantly gowned that she looks like a cross between the Byzantine Empress Theodora and the Queen of Bohemia.

Karima McAdams as Kassia

After being greeted as Varangi (that’s Greek for Viking) they agree to be Euphemius’ bodyguards. Halfdan spends his time carving graffiti into a stone which is something vikings liked to do (Halfdan was here). He also seems smitten by the nun. They all decide to go to Ifriqya (northern Africa) to meet Ziyadat Allah who appears to be the real power in this part of the world. This is unfamiliar territory to me. I can only tell you that Euphemius and Ziyadat Allah were historical figures from the 9th century in Sicily. And yes, Euphemius supposedly kidnapped a nun from Byzantium. I think that nun might be trouble for Halfdan, or maybe the other way round.

In Iceland Floki decides he really can’t keep this awesome place that he’s discovered to himself, so with the gods’ approval he will set out to find true believers to join him. And I can’t help wondering how the heck he’s going to find his way back there again, since he was blown there by a storm in the first place, but he doesn’t appear worried and there does seem to be a giant volcano to mark the spot, so I guess he’ll figure it out.

Photos of VIKINGS © The History Channel

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Vikings 5 Recap, Episode 3: HOMELAND

I’m always intrigued by the titles chosen for the episodes of VIKINGS. This week it’s HOMELAND, and the episode seems to explore what that means to various characters in this 10th century saga.

We begin with Floki who, looking younger without all his eyeliner and facepaint, has been swept by his gods to a new home.

He stands atop a plateau surveying this new world.  By the end of the episode, having witnessed two visions (and we recall that he has seen visions in previous seasons) and having discovered that his infected hand has, miraculously healed, he comes to believe that he is living among the gods. Which is what he suspected last episode. Now, has that really been confirmed? Is he dead? Is his hand really healed? Is he hallucinating? How is he keeping himself alive? How much time has passed since he landed? Ten minutes? Ten days? There is a kind of alternate, heightened reality to his experience, and the many unanswered questions made me feel like I was in that bizarre reality, too. What he is experiencing is beautiful, but troubling.

Harald Finehair conveys Astrid to her new homeland, but she is stiff and disgusted rather than impressed.

He showers her with a nice pied-a-terre, (guarded, unfortunately by what appears to be a troll), a new gown, jewelry, servants and a feast. After dinner, believing that he’s softened her up he makes his move on her and she responds by breaking his nose. We hold our breaths, anticipating tit for tat, but Harald is playing the long game with Astrid. He’d better be careful. He may end up the loser because his brother isn’t there to watch his back. I’m not certain which of them is going to win this game. Harald does become king of Norway, historically, so maybe they make a pact after 10 or so episodes of sparring.

Speaking of Halfdan, he’s hanging with Bjorn in somebody’s homeland – we’re not sure whose; someplace south. These two are trying to bond, but they’re interrupted by one of their crew members who comments that they should pretend to be traders, not raiders. His suggestion that Bjorn should get rid of all but three ships leaves both Bjorn and Halfdan scratching their heads. Vikings were, of course, savvy traders, explorers and settlers as well as raiders. They journeyed east as far as Uzbekistan, west to North America and south through the Mediterranean. But since this is an adventure series, I doubt that we’ll see Bjorn do much trading or settling.

Ubba, though, wants to settle although first there’s the little matter of holding on to the land he believes (erroneously) he’s been granted in the face of Anglo-Saxon opposition. Viewers who love a good battle should have been pleased with the fight at York. We knew, even if the Saxons didn’t, that those ruined Roman walls were just a ruse to lure them into a trap. They are driven into volleys of arrows, sent tumbling into spiked pits, or doused with oil and set on fire. Young Æthelred takes an arrow in the shoulder. I think we see him later on, but I can’t be sure. I have trouble telling the æthelings apart. I wish one of them would grow a mustache.

The Viking victory leads to a showdown, of course, between Ivar and his brothers. So, okay, let’s talk about Ivar. He has a scene with a pretty slave girl who tells him that he is destined for greatness, that his infirmity means he is favored by the gods. These are almost exactly the words that Ragnar once said to him, and Ivar is suitably thunderstruck by them. He looks almost lit from within. It’s Ivar who stage-manages the Viking defense of York. He watches the slaughter from a high window, and now he’s looking like a malevolent minor deity until he suddenly appears zinging through the narrow streets in his little chariot. I cheered when he fell (sorry), but although flattened Ivar took out a Saxon who threatened him and, convinced of his own invulnerability, challenged the Saxons around him, laughing, his face all bloody. For a time both Saxons and Danes were thunderstruck by the sight of him, and when the battle raged on, around him Ivar continued to laugh, delighted at the mayhem.

There is an interesting moment, though, in the midst of the battle chaos when Bishop Heahmund comes face to face with Ivar. Heahmund is calling on his God, and Ivar is laughing demonically. And this seemed to me a defining moment, if we can find one, between Ivar and Heahmund, and probably between Ivar and everyone else. Heahmund and the Saxon leaders are fighting to hold on to something. Ubba is fighting to gain something. Ivar is fighting for the sheer pleasure of creating mayhem. He’s not actually even fighting. He looks like a berserker, but he is merely sitting there, howling in rapture at the chaos he’s unleashed.

He is really quite, quite terrifying.

Ivar wins the battle of the brothers, and Ubba, despite his victory at York, goes back to the Viking homeland, defeated. For now, anyway.


Photos of VIKINGS © The History Channel


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Vikings 5 Recap, Episode 1: THE DEPARTED

Ivar, You Are Crazy

Do you remember the first episode of the first season of VIKINGS? Essentially, it was about two brothers, one of whom, Ragnar, was ambitious and eager for adventure, enthralled by the prospect of discovering new worlds and cultures even if only to plunder them for his own gain. (After all, he was a VIKING!)

Through four seasons we followed the trajectory of this curious, intelligent, cunning and sometimes, it must be said, brutal man who became a little strange as the final season unfolded. Yet, because we were grounded in who he was at the beginning, we could even accept the bizarre aspects of his personality that developed in Season Four. Or so it seemed to me.

The first four seasons explored numerous themes: rivalry for sure; but also family, teamwork, loyalty, justice, religion and, in a big way, war.

But back to that very first episode: one reviewer claimed that there was nothing in VIKINGS as grim or gory as on GAME OF THRONES. Another wrote that there was probably less raping and pillaging than in the historical record but then, who wants to watch that much raping and pillaging anyway?

Well, baby, we’ve come a long way. Now, in Season 5, we’ve got rape, slaughter and pillaging galore. Mostly just for fun. That curious, intelligent man is gone and in his place writer Michael Hirst has burdened us with IVAR (Alex Høgh Andersen)  – cruel, vengeful, spiteful, mean, and pitiless when he isn’t whining. (Add your own negative descriptive adjective here if you’d like.) He’s a liar with a warped sense of his own abilities and destiny, and a blood lust that drives him to do unspeakable things that would have made an actual Viking weep. (Murder someone by pouring molten gold down his throat? Really? What a waste of loot!)

Ivar the Boneless

Season 5’s two hour opening, The Departed, re-introduced the major characters we’ve come to know, adding a few more and setting up enough conflicts among this bunch to drive another 30 episodes. The themes? So far: rivalry, vengeance and war. You want grim and gory? You got it.

As for me, I’m hoping that crazy Ivar doesn’t continue to take the central role. There is a great risk in building any kind of story around someone so horrible. There is no depth to the character and there is nothing likeable about him. How do we root for someone like that? I can barely stomach him and have already seen enough of him to last me all season.

Thankfully, it appears that upcoming episodes will not necessarily focus on Ivar. The sons of Ragnar, who once ran in a pack, are growing into their own personalities. In this first episode Ubba, in particular, (Jordan Patrick Smith) seems to be having some kind of epiphany in the midst of the Viking mayhem at York. I’ll be interested to see where that leads.

Ubba, Ivar’s older brother

Bjorn (Alexander Ludwig), still protective of his mother and with much of his father’s adventurous spirit, has set out for the Mediterranean in search of loot and fame. One has to question, though, his decision to send messages to Lagertha via the villainous Jarl Harald (Peter Franzén). What was he thinking?

Lagertha,(Katheryn Winnick) always a strong character, is pitted against the historical figure Harald Finehair and his ambition to become king of all Norway. She has an odd way of expressing her contempt for him. I thought he was a goner, but Michael Hirst needs him alive to add to Lagertha’s problems and anyway, Harald Finehair didn’t die in Lagertha’s barn, as far as I know. She is also likely to have to deal with Ivar at some point, (the Seer told her that she would die at the hands of one of Ragnar’s sons) as well as some internal dissension in Kattegat.

Lagertha in a quiet moment

Floki’s conflict, refreshingly, is not against other men, but against Nature itself as he lands on the coast of a very forbidding Iceland. Floki (Gustaf Skarsgård)  travels with Odin’s bird, the raven. I always enjoy those visual mythological references that Hirst tosses in. Thank you for the raven, Michael.

Floki in transit

Over on the island of Britain the historical Heahmund (Jonathan Rhys Meyers), Bishop of Sherborne – a charming, self-flagellating chap who yearns to slaughter all pagans – has teamed up with King Æthelwulf of Wessex to take on the Danes in York where, probably, neither man ever set foot. The see of Sherborne was on the southern coast, and Æthelwulf (Moe Dunford) was never king of Mercia. Indeed, by the time Heahmund was made a bishop, Æthelwulf was in his grave and his son Æthelred I was king of Wessex. But we are in historical fantasy land these days. Don’t expect much that reflects actual historical events.

Bishop Heahmund the Belligerant

Having just written that I have to report that a Viking army did, in fact, capture York in 866, and for 50 years the city remained under Danish control. So yes, that bit was based on a real event. If you’ve seen or read THE LAST KINGDOM you already know what happened when the Saxons tried to take back York. It’s not looking good for Æthelwulf and Heahmund.

The Wessex Royal Family in, unbelievably, Yorkshire. Left to right, Aethelred, Alfred, Aethelwulf, Judith. Actually, Aethelwulf had 4 sons & Judith wasn’t their mother, but never mind.

I applauded Hirst’s brilliant decision to have the adolescent Alfred the Great (Ferdia Walsh-Peelo) and his family hanging out in what looked like the watery marshlands of Somerset – setting up the concept that, years later, when Alfred needed a hideout from the Danes, he knew exactly where to go.

It is clever writing like that, along with surprising plot twists, character interactions, personal internal conflicts, and the struggle against the terrifying immensity of Nature, that will keep me watching.

Not the blood and the gore, and certainly not Crazy Ivar.

Photos of VIKINGS © The History Channel


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The Great-Sea Flood

Woodcut of a 1607 flood in E. Anglia

A.D. 1014 This year on the eve of St. Michael’s Day, came the great sea-flood, which spread wide over this land, and ran so far up as it never did before, overwhelming many towns, and an innumerable multitude of people. THE ANGLO-SAXON CHRONICLE

The date of this event in 1014 was 28 September. The wave described by the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle swept through the English Channel, impacting England’s southern coast as well as areas of what is now the Netherlands. But the wave also moved northward along the coasts of Cornwall and Wales, rounded the northern coast of Scotland and then continued south along England’s eastern coast. We do not know if this disaster took place in the daytime or at night. We only know that it was sudden, and that those affected never saw it coming. Scholars theorize that in Britain more than 80,000 people died in a matter of minutes.

What could have caused such a great sea-flood? We tend to link tsunamis with earthquakes, but there is no record of any earthquake in September, 1014. We tend to associate flooding with storms, but the annals make no mention of a storm

M. Baillie, in an article published in the Journal of Quarternary Science, 2007, speculates that the 1014 tsunami recorded by chroniclers in Britain and at Quedlinburg Abbey in Saxony was caused by a meteor that landed in the mid-Atlantic. You can see a simulation of the comet impact here.

In the 11th century there was no Red Cross. There was no FEMA. Who cared for those left homeless? Who buried the bodies of the dead? How long did it take for the devastated towns and villages to recover, and is it possible that some might never have recovered? Might they have simply been washed away and, eventually, forgotten?

We can only guess at the answers to those questions as we stand in awe of Mother Nature’s fury even now, one thousand years later.


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Of Runes and Repetition

Today I’m sharing something about my writing process. One of the difficulties that a writer faces in penning a trilogy is the problem of repetition. Frankly, it’s almost impossible to avoid when you have the same characters and the same settings in three consecutive books that tell a lengthy story. Nevertheless, it is up to the author to make each scene significantly different from any that have gone before.

In the second novel of my trilogy about Emma of Normandy, THE PRICE OF BLOOD, I created a scene in which Tyra, a gerningakona (Old Norse, meaning a woman who practices magic) casts rune sticks on the floor and tells her mistress, Elgiva, what she sees there. Here is an edited excerpt from that scene:

Elgiva sat on the floor of Catla’s bedchamber, hands clasped about her knees. Two arms’ length in front of her Tyra knelt among the rushes, frowning intently at the rune sticks scattered in the space that had been cleared between the two of them. Elgiva flicked her gaze between Tyra’s face and the rune-marked pieces of bone.

“Well?” she whispered to Tyra.

But the Sámi woman made no reply. Oblivious to everything but the rune sticks, she began to chant softly, words that Elgiva did not understand although the mere sound of them – eerie and in some strange tongue – made her flesh crawl.

She contained her impatience. Scrying the future, it seemed, could not be rushed.

Tyra had closed her eyes and was running her hands lightly across each fragment of bone, fingering them, touching whatever power emanated from the scored ivory. Then her eyes opened, focusing with such needle-like sharpness on Elgiva that she shuddered.

“Two sons,” Tyra said, in a voice so strange it seemed borrowed from some other world. “Both will grow to manhood. Both will leave this middle earth before you.”

Both will grow to manhood.

Her sons, then, would not all wither in the womb as the last child had.

Tyra had closed her eyes again, slumping against the bed frame as if she were a poppet made of rags and straw. The power that had been within her had withdrawn, and she looked haggard, her face so pale that even her lips were white. Elgiva clenched her fists with impatience, but she knew better than to press Tyra any further. The woman was exhausted and all her power fled.

For a long moment she gazed thoughtfully on that drawn and pallid face, gnawing on an idea that she had been considering ever since the first time she had seen the cunning woman’s hands play across the shards of bone with their mysterious markings. Slowly she moved her stiffened limbs, repositioning herself so that she was on her knees, mimicking the slave woman’s stance when she had been reading the runes. She leaned forward just as she’d seen Tyra do it, fingering the small, scored rods, hoping to feel some kind of power emanating from them.

She felt nothing. She sat back on her heels, and when she looked at Tyra again, the Sámi woman was eyeing her.

“You have lusted after my power for many months now, have you not? Her voice was normal again, no longer filled with magic. “Look at me. Each time I use the power, there is less of me afterward. Is that what you long for?”

I had to look at that scene again because I needed to bring the runes back and at the same time make the new scene that I wanted to include in my third book (not finished yet!) different from the one in the previous novel.

I went back to my research. First, I consulted a book on Nordic Religions by Thomas DuBois that I’d picked up on one of my trips to the Medieval Congress in Kalamazoo – a book that appealed to me as much because of its cover as its Table of Contents.

Runes, as you may know, were used by pagan Germanic peoples, not so much as a means of communication, but as a set of magical symbols associated with healing and magic. In cultures that had no written language, like that of Viking Age Scandinavia, words – and even letters – had an element of mystery about them because so few people understood them. And so they were associated in people’s minds with magic and charms that could cure or curse. For instance, a rune could be written on something, then scraped off into a cup of mead so that the drink became a healing elixir. Or runes could be carved on to something to protect it – the mast of a ship, for example, or the hilt of a sword.

I shall teach you the runes of triumph
To have on the hilt of your sword
From the Eddaic poem Sigrdrifomál

I also turned to a book by Horik Svensson that identified each rune and explained how it might be understood and interpreted.

By taking the information that I was able to glean from my research materials, adding it to the clear idea I had about what I wanted the runes to say to Tyra and Elgiva, and throwing in a dollop of pure imagination, I produced what I hope is a realistic and dramatic scene that is still quite different from the scene in the earlier book, yet builds upon it. Here, again, is an edited excerpt:

“Hagall. Nied. Othel. Tire. Elgiva mouthed the names of the few runes that she could recall and edged forward on her chair, narrowing her eyes to search the markings on the narrow, yellowed shards at her feet. After a few moments, frustrated, she thrust herself back against the cushions.

What did it matter that she knew what they were called? The bits of scored bone scattered on the floor looked to her like nothing more than kitchen refuse. She did not have Tyra’s gift and never would.

She watched her Sámi slave bend over the rune sticks, hands outstretched. Tyra’s braid of dark hair pooled into her lap, and candlelight sent shadows flickering over her thin face. The sight made Elgiva’s flesh creep and, knowing what must come next, she wrapped her shawl about her head so that it covered her ears. Tyra would start chanting soon, the sound so familiar now that Elgiva sometimes heard it in her sleep. Mournful and eerie, it turned her dreams to nightmares. She did not like it, did not want to hear it. But it was part of the ritual. If she wanted an answer to her question, it had to be endured.

When the chanting began she gritted her teeth and, eager to distance herself from it, she pushed herself to her feet and paced to the far end of the chamber, frowning at the barren state of the walls that surrounded her. This was the queen’s outer apartment, and it should have been draped with lavishly embroidered hangings. Emma, though, had taken everything of value or beauty with her when she fled. Only the large wooden bed had been left behind, and even that had been stripped of its curtains and linens…

When Tyra’s chanting sudden stopped she sat, unmoving, her head bent and drooping like a wilted blossom on a thin stalk. Her face was so grey that Elgiva feared she might faint. Moving swiftly to a bench that held a flagon of wine, she poured some of the spiced liquid into a cup and, kneeling, she placed it in Tyra’s hand. She waited while Tyra sipped some of it and a little color returned to her sallow cheeks.

“Well?” she said. “How long will it be until I can return to London?” Tyra stared at the cup in her hand, her mouth shut in a tight line. “Answer me!”

“What you desire may be beyond your reach.” The voice was Tyra’s, but it sounded strange and hollow, as if it came from the back of a cave or the bottom of a well. Tyra’s eyes still did not meet hers. She looked into the middle distance with an unfocused gaze and a face blank as stone. It was the face of prophecy, Elgiva realized, and she held her breath, waiting for it.

“The road that lies before you is strewn with difficulties – far more than just weather and time. There are malignant forces at work over which you have no control.”

Tyra’s voice – flat, dead, and empty – did not even sound human. Elgiva had to force her hands into her lap to keep from covering her ears.

But now Tyra’s eyes fixed upon her at last, and she whispered, “I cannot promise that you will ever return to London.”

Elgiva felt a chill creep along her spine. Never before had Tyra given her a reading such as this. Nor had she ever before avoided her gaze. There was something wrong here. Could it be that she was not lying, yet not speaking all the truth?

She crouched above the bones scatter on the floor and picked up the one that lay in the middle of the grouping. She held it in front of Tyra. “What does this mean?”

Tyra blanched and shook her head.

“By itself it is meaningless.”

“Perhaps,” Elgiva said. “but it is not by itself. It is at the heart of everything you have just told me. Tell me what it means!”

Tyra clenched her lips tight, and Elgiva thought she would have to slap her to get her to speak. The silence built between them, but finally Tyra’s eyes met hers and she murmured, “It means death.”

Elgiva stared at the piece of bone in her hand, then dropped it as if it had burned her.

The scene, hopefully, echoes the reading of the runes from the earlier book. Both are written from Elgiva’s point of view, but although her motives in each scene are the same – answer a question – the questions she has asked are vastly different, as are her reactions to the answers she receives. Tyra’s reticence about even giving her an answer adds conflict to the second scene that sets it apart from the first one. Both scenes, though, end on a dark note. That is meant to keep readers turning the pages!


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What Historical Novelists Do at a Conference

The historical novelist’s life is a lonely one. We spend our days at our desks, arguing with computer screens, wrestling with words, engulfed by books and files, and holding conversations with characters who never existed or who have been dead for a thousand years. Is it any wonder that, when given the chance, we throw ourselves a party?

hns1That’s what happened last week when 400 plus members of the Historical Novel Society convened in Portland for a conference. Well, we call it a conference, and in fact there are panels about writing and publishing and history, but in between the panels and the pitches there are dinners and lunches and drinking and, well, it’s a 3-day long party. And a very big party, with writers, readers, agents, editors and booksellers in one place, frequently all of them talking at once.

There was the welcome cocktail costume party, where attendees were invited to come in fancy dress and many did! Medieval kings and queens, 18th century militia, Roman goddesses, ladies in exquisite gowns from a myriad of centuries and men in elegant garb complete with hats and spats or boots and neck-cloths when called for. I must confess that I was absolutely smitten by Susan Shay as Eleanor of Aquitaine, and once I’d followed her about and finally snapped her photo I was so thrilled I didn’t even attempt to corner anyone else. Happily, other people did!



Photo Credit: David D. Levine








Panels held over the next two days were on a variety of topics, and it was always horribly difficult to choose among them as there were seven or eight sessions held at the same time. Here are some examples:

Inventing Convincing Medieval Heroines
Truth in Fiction
Using Modern Tools to Tell Historical Stories
Writing in Multiple Genres
Writing the Celtic World
How Well Does Your Dialogue Work?

You see what I mean?

On Friday I led an intimate session, billed as a Koffee Klatch but, alas, without coffee and cakes, on ENGLAND BEFORE THE CONQUEST, which went in an altogether different direction than I had imagined it would, which was actually delightful. Our little group of 18 was much less bloodthirsty than I had anticipated. Not much talk of swords and warriors despite our collective fascination with events in England during the Viking Ages. We discussed things like the marriages of æthelings, and touched on Alfred and Æthelred, and considered the role of Anglo-Saxon queens, especially Emma. The Brits in the room informed me that TIME TEAM is available on YouTube, and I gave a shout out to the group about THE BRITISH HISTORY PODCAST. (I’ve just watched the very first, 1994, episode of TIME TEAM, The Guerilla Base of the King. It’s all about the fort at Athelney where Alfred the Great spent a winter hiding out in 878; that’s exactly the historical event currently under discussion at THE BRITISH HISTORY PODCAST – Alfred’s guerilla war against the Danes. So, how’s that for synchronicity?) The hour flew by and, like a fool, I took no pictures and did not even turn on my bloody phone/recorder so I could provide a more in-depth report in this post. Bother.

The following day was Saturday, and we did it all again. I was on a panel titled PUTTING THE HER IN HISTORY which was the brainstorm of author Stephanie Lehmann, who moderated. Co-panelists were Rebecca Kanner, Mary Sharratt, and Nicole Evelina.

Putting the Her in History: Stephanie Lehmann, Bracewell, Rebecca Kanner, Mary Sharratt, Nicole Evelina. Photo Credit: Jessica Knauss

Putting the Her in History: Stephanie Lehmann, Bracewell, Rebecca Kanner, Mary Sharratt, Nicole Evelina. Photo Credit: Jessica Knauss

And although there are no recordings, I can tell you that my fellow panelists were passionate and eloquent about the roles of women throughout history, about the definition of POWER, and the difficulties that historical novelists face in bringing all-but-forgotten women to life.

The conference board always arranges for special guest speakers and this year was no exception. I don’t know that we’ve ever had a Pulitzer Prize winner speak to us before, but this year we did. Geraldine Brooks won the Pulitzer Prize in 2006 for her novel MARCH. She has also written the best sellers YEAR OF WONDERS, PEOPLE OF THE BOOK, and most recently, THE SECRET CHORD. I have read and loved all of these. She is a marvelous writer, an inspiring speaker, and her stories about her pre-novelist life as a journalist in war zones like Bosnia and the Middle East were hair-raising.

David Ebershoff spoke on the second day. He is the author of THE DANISH GIRL (I highly recommend it) as well as THE 19TH WIFE which I have not read yet, but I’m told it’s remarkable. It was utterly fascinating to hear him speak about Lili Elbe and her life. And it was incredibly moving to hear him describe his return to Dresden to visit her grave after the making of the film THE DANISH GIRL.

In between and after the sessions and during the meals there were conversations among old friends, among friends who knew each other only from their head shots on Facebook, and among friends newly made; there were visits to Powell’s Bookstore; there was laughter, and camaraderie, shared stories about the publishing world and the writer’s life.

For those who wished to explore the many different libations imbibed down the centuries there was a tasting session titled HOOCH THROUGH HISTORY: FROM MEAD TO MARTINIS. (An extra fee for this, and it was sold out. We are writers, after all!)

At the final banquet Australian novelist Kate Forsyth, who is a marvelous storyteller with an advanced degree in Fairy Tales, had us on the edges of our seats with her rendition of the Scottish tale, TAM LIN. (Word to the wise: Beware the fairy queen!)

Geraldine Brooks and Kate Forsyth, HNS Conference 2017

Geraldine Brooks and Kate Forsyth, HNS Conference 2017

The final event of the conference was A REGENCY MASQUERADE BALL. A wonderful trio of musicians accompanied our dance master as he led us through the steps of English Country Dances.
hns16 hns17
The musicians were extraordinary, and it was such a treat to be able to dance to live Regency music. Off to one side of the ballroom a group from the Jane Austen Society taught the card sharks among us how to play Whist. Domino masks were handed out at the door, but I brought my own, and I have to say, it made me feel both elegant and mysterious as I danced the night away.


Next year the party moves to Scotland!

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Warning: Spoilers ahead.

The final episode of The Last Kingdom, Season 2, is filled with action and conflict: King vs. ealdormen, brother vs. brother, Saxons vs Northmen. Although I’m not particularly fond of battle scenes, I have to admit that my favorite moment in this episode is when King Alfred – in the dark of night and up against a horde of howling northmen – cries “Shieldwall!”

But, back to the beginning. As Uhtred and his men ride toward Winchester Uhtred looks worried and pensive, and he is no doubt thinking of Æthelflæd and of the request that she has made that he help her flee with the Northman, Erik. It’s risky business for all of them.

Ep2.8LoveaFather Pyrlig, who has heard Æthelflæd’s confession, probably knows that she’s in love with her captor. As he rides beside Uhtred he pointedly muses – and I am quoting him word-for-word because it is so important:

What binds a man to a land? You have a poor wretch toiling in the fields, burning in summer and shivering in winter. He works all day every day for nothing more than a loaf of bread and a pot to piss in. His children die of disease, his wife dies giving him children, yet when that land is threatened, something stirs. It can only be love. ‘Tis a powerful thing. Would you not agree, Lord Uhtred? From wretch to warrior, love gives a man strength, often at the cost of his mind.

It is love that underlies this episode – a father’s love for his child, a leader’s love for his land and people, a man’s love for a woman.

The story begins, though, with lust: for silver, for fame, for power. Uhtred and his companions inform Alfred that the Northmen want 3000 pounds of silver and 500 pounds of gold to ransom Æthelflæd.

Ep2.8RansomaAlfred, with less than a month to make the first payment, has three options.

Option One: Ignore the ransom demand. Outcome: The king’s daughter will be paraded, probably naked, before mocking crowds; men will pay to use her. It would mean humiliation for her, for the king, for Wessex. But Alfred loves his daughter too much to abandon her to that, nor will he allow that humiliation to be the story of his reign.

Option Two: Lead an army against Sigefrid and Erik.
Ep2.8BrothersaOutcome: the brothers will kill the king’s daughter. This is the option that Ealdorman Odda would choose. Fight, dammit, and never mind what happens to the girl. Odda, who was badly wounded fighting the Danes at Cynuit, sacrificed his own, traitorous son for Wessex, and Alfred, he thinks, should sacrifice his daughter. Let her be a martyr for Wessex. After all, Odda claims, Alfred still has his son Edward. But Odda is speaking from the perspective of a man who has nothing left to lose, and Alfred has a very great deal to lose if he makes the wrong decision.

Option Three: Pay the ransom. Outcome: the Danes will use the silver and gold to bring more Northmen to Wessex who will unite and destroy Alfred’s kingdom. As Æthelwold observes, the Saxons will pay for the swords that will kill them.

All of the choices are bad, but Alfred gambles that if he pays, God will help him find a way to beat the Northmen when the time comes, despite their vast numbers. This is not, on the face of it, a bad plan. He has paid tribute to the Northmen before to buy an alliance (with Guthrum) or to buy himself time to prepare for war. Odda, though, continues to demand that the king attack now, and Alfred struggles with misgivings, not at all certain that he has made the right decision. Finally, though, he is frustrated by Odda’s refusal to accept the decision he has made. He tells the old man that his injury and his love for wine have robbed him of any value and that he no longer serves a purpose.  Odda must leave Winchester.

Ep2.8OddaaThere are times when Alfred’s insistence on obedience is a weakness; it will not allow him to bend when sometimes bending is the only solution to a problem. It happens here, with Odda, and it happens a lot with Uhtred. We have seen it before, and we will see it again. Alfred told us in Season 1 that he is no saint. This is a reminder.

Meantime, Odda is convinced that Alfred is wrong, and despite Uhtred’s pleas that he do nothing – for Uhtred alone knows that if Æthelflæd gets away, no ransom need be paid – Odda has already sent for the Devonshire fyrd. If Alfred won’t lead his warriors against the Danes, Odda will. When Alfred finds out – because Odda sends Father Pyrlig to tell him – Alfred gathers his warriors and sets out to try to stop Odda, playing right into Odda’s hands because they all meet near the Northmen’s fortress at Benfleet.

I’ve told my men that we are here on your orders, lord, Odda tells Alfred. Now that you’ve marched an army to the Northmen’s door, they will not believe that you’re not here to fight. And he’s right.

Ep2.8AlfredaUnknown to the king and Odda, though, inside the fortress Erik and Æthelflæd have been planning their getaway, and Uhtred has arrived in secret to help. But Sigefrid and Hæsten have become suspicious of Erik’s too obvious affection for his prisoner and they have taken steps to make sure that their prize doesn’t escape.

Ep2.8CageErik’s plan goes awry, and when brother is pitted against brother, it’s up to Uhtred to improvise the rescue of Æthelflæd, which he does brilliantly. They are pursued, of course, and under a night sky lit by flames, a Northman maddened by grief and howling for vengeance rallies his men against the Saxons – for death and glory. And Alfred the king, who has brought a Saxon army to stop a Saxon army, turns on the Northmen and cries, “Shieldwall!”

Alfred was a great king. He survived months in a swamp, he rallied his people to save Wessex from destruction by Viking raiders, and he began the task of fulfilling his dream of a united England. He was also ruthless, because a 9th century king had to be ruthless. That is the Alfred that we see in this episode when, back at Winchester, he is forced to turn his ruthlessness on an old friend.

Uhtred returns to Cookham, and it is his voice that reminds us of the theme that Pyrlig introduced at the beginning.

What binds a man to his land? What power within allows him to give his life to preserve his land and the lives of the families who work it? It can only be love. It will not be written that Odda gave his life to save Wessex, but that is the story I will tell – that he gave his life to save the lives of many and ensured that King Alfred of Wessex became more powerful than ever.

Ep2.8UhtredaDid it happen this way in Cornwell’s novel? No. There are enormous differences. For one thing, ODDA WASN’T EVEN THERE! But both versions of this story are beautifully told. If you haven’t read the books, now would be a good time to start while we hope that Uhtred and The Last Kingdom will be back for a third season next year.

  1. The Last Kingdom
  2. The Pale Horseman
  3. The Lords of the North
  4. Sword Song
  5. The Burning Land
  6. Death of Kings
  7. The Pagan Lord
  8. The Empty Throne
  9. Warriors of the Storm
  10. 10. The Flame Bearer

Photos: Netflix/BBC2/TheLastKingdom


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Warning: Spoilers ahead.

In the opening scene, Uhtred and his companions arrive at the Saxon camp to find no one left alive. It is heartrending to watch Beocca calling Thyra’s name over and over and getting no reply. That entire scene had me all misty-eyed.

Despite having read Bernard Cornwell’s Sword Song, I did not know how Beocca’s search was going to turn out because the book handles this event quite differently. The screenwriters are, of course, forced to compress and revise because of time and because they are dealing with a different medium; at the same time it allows them to toss in some surprises for those of us who have read the novels on which the show is based. I’m enjoying the changes/additions because they remain true, I think, to the world, the characters and the story that Cornwell created.

Now, back to that ravaged Saxon camp. Unfortunately for Æthelred, he has to go back to Winchester and face Alfred’s wrath when the king learns that his daughter is missing. Serves him right, the weasel. Luckily for Æthelred, who apparently has only half a brain, his buddy Aldhelm is there in every scene, murmuring instructions in his ear about what to do, say and think. Æthelred is one step up from a ventriloquist’s dummy.

Alfred is royally outraged upon learning that
a) his daughter accompanied her husband to battle and
b) she is probably a hostage of the Danes.
He is, though, amazingly self-controlled, and all the good lines are given to Odda. He snarls that Æthelred has put the kingdom at risk and gets to call him useless, arrogant, a toad, an idiot and a fool. We are cheering Odda on, and we cheer again when Æthelwold pipes up and adds that the only man capable of cleaning up this puddle of shit that Æthelred has created is Uhtred.

Uhtred has wasted no time in sending spies to Benfleet to discover if the king’s daughter lives, but he doesn’t go to Winchester because Alfred has banished him from court. Instead he goes to Cookham and he tells Gisela what happened. Now we are treated to a couple of scenes that illustrate the close relationship between them. She tells him, You will be Æthelflæd’s hope, and she urges him to go to  to Winchester right away to take part in the search for the girl. He counters that they will go, but not yet. He wants no part of the court intrigue until he has news. (Is he just a little pissed off at the king? You bet!)

Ep2.7GiselaaWe go to Winchester, next, to witness a scene between Alfred and his wife Ælswith. She is no friend of Uhtred’s but, fearful of what the Danes will do to her daughter, she gently echoes what Gisela has said. Send Uhtred to Benfleet. If our daughter is there, and alive, Uhtred will raise her spirits. Alfred, though, is as stubborn as Uhtred. His hope must be in God, not in Uhtred.

In the Anglo-Saxon culture, it was expected that a good wife would counsel her husband and that he should listen. He may not follow her counsel, but he should listen. This is where Uhtred, Alfred and Beocca differ from The Weasel. They listen to their wives, even if they don’t agree with the advice they’re given. The Weasel, though, doesn’t want Æthelflæd’s advice about anything. She’s just supposed to shut up and do as she’s told.

When the Witan meets to discuss the problem of Danish armies and a captive royal daughter, Ælswith is at her husband’s side.


Ælswith is never called a queen, but she has been present at every Witan session.

Uhtred arrives with news that Æthelflæd is alive, and Alfred orders The Weasel to negotiate with the Danes for her release. Odda, Æthelwold and Beocca counsel that Uhtred should go as well, and now Alfred’s doubts are whirling in his mind and we see them reflected on his face. Can he trust Uhtred? He sought counsel over that and prayed over that, and he still does not know. It is Ælswith who, with a single, pleading look, convinces him. Yay Ælswith! (Eliza Butterworth, can you hear us applauding your portrayal of Alfred’s wife?)
I have to say, though, that like that snake, Aldhelm, I am wondering how Erik knew where Æthelflæd was or even that she would be with her husband’s army. All I can think of is that he must have had spies shadowing the force from Mercia and Wessex, and that would certainly make sense.

In the Viking camp at Benfleet, Æthelflæd has drawn some unwanted attention. Hæsten and Sigefrid have both been leering at her, and Erik seems to be puzzled and bemused by his own growing feelings for the Saxon king’s daughter. Hæsten tries to rape her (this is practically a requirement, right?), and she defends herself using whatever comes to hand: first a bucket of piss, then the bucket itself, and then a knife.

Æthelflæd's strike would have been lethal if Erik hadn't stopped her.

Æthelflæd would have knifed Haesten if Erik hadn’t stopped her.

Erik steps into the fray and, to her surprise, he’s on her side. One thing leads to another, and although the relationship that springs up between them seems to happen very quickly, it probably develops over many weeks. Besides, Erik is far more tender toward her than The Weasel ever was.

In Winchester Odda suggests to Alfred that if the ransom demanded for Æthelflæd is too costly in silver or blood, perhaps she should be encouraged to take her own life. She would be one of God’s martyrs, rewarded in heaven. You are a king before you are a father, Odda says.

Whoa! I did not see that coming. Alfred didn’t either, and he is not exactly receptive to this suggestion.

Note the drawings on the walls. The Anglo-Saxons loved bright colors, and the writer worked the paintings into the dialogue.

Note the drawings on the walls. The Anglo-Saxons loved bright colors, and the script writer worked the paintings into the dialogue.

Let’s talk about Odda for a moment. I do not know if I’m right here, but I think this is an illustration of Odda’s concern for Wessex. He puts Wessex first always. He supports Uhtred not because he’s fond of the warrior, but because he recognizes Uhtred’s value to Wessex. And let us remember that in Season 1, Odda killed his own son because he had been a traitor to Wessex.

Æthelwold overhears Odda’s conversation with Alfred, and later Odda accosts him and says that if Æthelwold is anything like his father, Alfred’s brother, I may need you. For what? Æthelwold asks. And I’m wondering, too. For what?

I do not know what Odda is going to do next. We know that he feels as if his life has been wasted – he is always drinking  –  so what is going on in his head?

When the negotiation team from Wessex arrives at Benfleet, the Danes totally humiliate The Weasel and we are cheered to see him wake up naked in a pig pen, which means that he and Æthelwold now have something in common. While The Weasel has been unconscious, Uhtred has been negotiating a price for Æthelflæd as well as watching Erik with interest and concern because he intuits that something may be going on between Erik and his hostage. In private, Erik confesses to this. Then Æthelflæd puts Uhtred in a really tight spot because she and Erik want to run away and she wants Uhtred to help them. He uses all the arguments against it that he can think of – and they are really good arguments. Your husband, your father and Sigefrid will all come after you. You’ll die. Your family will die. I am sworn to your father. If I help you and succeed, he will have me killed, and besides that you are asking me to assist in getting you killed.

But Æthelflæd is not just a young girl in love. She tops all his arguments with I will not be the treasure that builds an army against my father.

Whoo boy. Now what?

Photos: Netflix/BBC2/TheLastKingdom


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There are numerous plot lines weaving through this series now, and here’s a look at how they develop in this episode.

ÆTHELRED vs UHTRED: There is never going to be a bromance between these two.
Ep2.6UhtredÆthelred is jealous of Uhtred’s skill as a warrior and of his friendship with Æthelflæd.  Uhtred sees Æthelred for what he truly is – not the good and godly man that Alfred imagines, but a smarmy, preening, egotistical, treacherous, lying, smooth-faced weasel. And that’s before Uhtred learns that Æthelred is cruel to Æthelflæd. Oh, and he’s stupid. Did I forget anything?

ÆTHELRED vs ALFRED: Æthelred wants to be king of Mercia AND Wessex, and his buddy Aldhelm (James Northcote), who is a viper in men’s clothing, reminds him that he can only accomplish this goal if Alfred is dead. Also, he says, a war between Wessex and the Danes would help. With these guys as allies, Alfred needs no enemies, although he has lots more.

ÆTHELRED vs. ÆTHELFLÆD: Æthelred reveals his true nature on their wedding night. Yes, it was a very brief honeymoon. When it comes to his wife, Æthelred is suspicious, possessive, controlling and mean.  Æthelflæd has allies, though, in Hild, Beocca, Thyra and Uhtred. She is politically savvy, so she understands how important her marriage is to her father’s plans for Wessex. This puts her in a bind because it forces her to submit to her husband’s control. Nevertheless, she is determined that he will not break her. And remember, she’s only 15.

The unhappy couple

The unhappy couple

BEOCCA and THYRA: We see them wed in this episode, and it’s a striking contrast to the marriage of Æthelflaed and the weasel. I don’t know about you, but at the end of the episode I’m really worried about Thyra.

The happy couple

The happy couple

ÆTHELWOLD vs HIS MOUTH: This guy is the show’s comic relief. In Season 1 he was sleeping with a pig, and that pretty much says it all. His one-liners are terrific, though, and he can occasionally be quite bright although we are constantly reminded by his companions that he has the spine of a jellyfish. Sometimes, though, he just can’t shut up, and in this episode he is continually yammering at Uhtred about how they could be kings of Wessex and Mercia because Dead Bjorn said so. Uhtred knows Bjorn was a trick, but he won’t reveal that to Æthelwold because of his big mouth.

OSFERTH and HIS CAREER PATH: This is Alfred’s illegitimate son. Osferth (Ewan Mitchell) is a monk who wants to be a warrior like his Uncle Leofric, Uhtred’s best buddy from last season who introduced us all to the word earsling.

ALFRED vs UHTRED: Alfred spends most of his screen time in this episode trying to resolve his doubts about Uhtred. David Dawson is terrific in this role of a man conflicted, a king beset by enemies and unable to quite bring himself to trust the warrior who stands at his right hand.
Ep2.6AlfredprayerabHe’s given some fabulous dialogue, all of it to do with Uhtred. He wonders if Uhtred is
a seemingly loyal and brave man who piece by piece is eating at my soul and clouding what I believe to be right and wrong.

Alfred flings accusations at Uhtred about his relationship with Sigefrid and Erik, and he argues with Odda about whether Uhtred is a spy, calling him
a sword I would rather wield than face.
At one point Alfred asks Steapa, Do you trust Uhtred?
And Steapa’s answer is simple and eloquent. With my life, lord. 
I love that.

Alfred flanked by Steapa & Odda, who support Uhtred

Alfred flanked by Steapa & Odda, who support Uhtred

But Alfred is still not convinced that he can trust Uhtred. That is because Alfred’s mind works in a way that Uhtred’s does not.
I do not understand you, he says to Uhtred. And it’s true.
But he also says, I do not know you, and Uhtred looks as if Alfred has slapped him. My mind immediately went back to last season and those moments at Athelney when Alfred’s son was at the point of death and the two men spoke long into the night together. They knew each other then. And it seems to me that Uhtred is thinking of that, too, for soon he asks Odda,
How can I serve a man who doesn’t trust me?
Face twisted with grief Uhtred continues,
A man to whom I have given so much?
Alexander Dreymon and Simon Kunz were absolutely wonderful in this scene. Heart wrenching, the both of them.

UHTRED vs SIGEFRID & ERIK: In Bernard Cornwell’s novel Sword Song, written in Uhtred’s first person viewpoint, our hero is tempted by the idea of joining Sigefrid and Erik, and of becoming king of Mercia. The moment that he realizes that he cannot do that is when he sees the brothers about to crucify Fr. Pyrlig. Things develop a little differently in this tv series, and although Uhtred strings the brothers along for a while, we know early in the episode that Uhtred is going to stick by Alfred. Even though he is embittered by Alfred’s lack of trust in him, Uhtred is no oathbreaker. He bows to Alfred’s irritating and unwise decision to put Æthelred in charge of scouring the Danes out of London, and is the first to realize that the Danes are after a different prize that leaves us with a cliffhanger of an ending.

Trouble One and Trouble Two.

Trouble One and Trouble Two


Photos: Netflix/BBC2/TheLastKingdom

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