Aeleva; The Viking Saxon

Chapter 29

We left for Reculver that day. The whole of Rochester's, Dover's and Canterbury's men marched along the East road and arrived some hours after sunset.

The settlement was formidable, the towers stood overlooking the North entrance to the Channel. The sea to the north and the Channel separating the mainland from Thanet, behind.

The site was square. The walls unscalable and encompassed by ditches that were impassable. Two ditches the width of 5 men laying head to toe, each one circumferencing the whole fort. At the bottom were sharpened logs, keen to skewer anyone who fell. I could see the bodies of wrangled raiders who had tried to cross the ditch. The stench of rotten flesh mixed with the salt sea breeze.

My horse was unnerved at the sour smell as I rode him over the bridge to the west gate. He shuffled sideways, throwing back his head.

He walked slowly, after much encouragement, under the watchful eyes of the keepers through the gates. I felt miles away from the walls of Torvik or Ribe. These were Saxon walls, and I a Saxon within them.

Inside was the monastery of Reculver, positioned awkwardly next to the main building. It was a glorious Saxon Cathedral, fine sculptures and glass panes decorated the outsides. Two huge towers sat boldly side by side, protecting the entrance of the house of God. The rest of the fortress was military based; Large commander buildings and smaller outhouses for beds.

You could see the Island of Thanet, just peaking out over the walls. It was not long ago I fled from the Danes in Thanet; I ran in the middle of the night to Canterbury. Like I had ran from Hagen to Brevell. Like I had ran from Godwin to Thanet.

Like I ran to my brother, who had then run from me.

We were so close to them. Yet you could not journey across the channel. The marshlands were too vast to get through and there were no jetties in this part of the coast. I was safe on this side of the water.

After the food was given, all the men were ordered to take mass. I had never been in a monastery with so many people. Men from Rochester, Canterbury and Dover all packed into the pews and isles. But Ealdorman Edward grabbed my arm as he walked out of the monastery, against the crowd.

"There is news." He whispered and lead me into the centre building. Through corridors and side doors under silence. Not answering any questions I put to him. He dragged me through the secret half of the building. The part you would only know your way around if you were shown.

He arrived at a heavy oak door, in a large corridor with torches lighting every paving stone. The Ealdorman turned to me, his expression grave. The look took all the questions out of my mind. When Rochester's smile wavered, it was news you did not want to hear.

He pushed through the door and revealed Ealdorman Alwin and the Ealdorman of Dover looking over the maps and plans on a table lit by candle light. Both the men snapped to Edward the instant he entered.

"They are in Sarre," He announced.

Ealdorman Alwin turned to Edward. His face puzzled for a moment.

"How many?" He asked, his tone sombre.

"5,000 at least." Edward answered. His voice as serious as Alwin. He walked into the room, myself following.

"They want to cross, and not to raid."

The three men stood over the map, thinking over the possible movements of the Danes. The Ealdorman of Dover stood back and looked up, he noticed me standing behind the Ealdorman of Rochester.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"Aeleva."

"Aeleva who? Where are you from?" The Ealdorman continued to question.