Kings of War, the sequel to King of Kings, is now available in audio, narrated by the fabulous Matt Coles. This is the story of the battle of Brunanburh fought in 937. (Check out my post on where exactly Brunanburh was fought).
Here’s the blurb:
Can the King of the Scots and the Dublin Norse triumph against a united England?
AD934
King Athelstan of the English has been successful in uniting the many kingdoms of Britain against one enemy, the Viking raiders.
But men who are kings don’t wish to be ruled.
Constantin, King of the Scots, rebelled against the Imperium and was forcibly brought to bend the knee to Athelstan and England at Cirencester.
His son Ildulb seeks bloody vengeance from Athelstan following the battle at Cait and the death of his son.
Olaf Gothfrithson, king of the Dublin Norse, having asserted his power following his father’s death has his sights set on reclaiming Jorvik.
Can the united might of the Scots and the violence of the Dublin Norse, descendants of the infamous Viking raiders, bring King Athelstan and his vision of the united Saxon English to her knees?
An epic story of kingsmanship that will result in the pivotal, bloody Battle of Brunanburh, where only one side can be victorious.
The scop song that is so important to events in both King of Kings and Kings of War existed, although I have manipulated it to my purposes and changed some of the more obscure references within it. That said, the poem, Armes Prydein (The Prophecy of Britain) is itself fascinating and is believed to have been a Welsh response to the imperium of King Athelstan of the English, and Hywel’s, of the South Welsh, close connection to the English and Athelstan. It has been dated to about 940, although it might be slightly earlier or later.
In King of Kings and Kings of War, my version reads,
‘And after peace, commotion everywhere,
Brave, mighty men, in battle tumult.
Swift to attack, stubborn in defence.
Warriors will scatter the interlopers as far as Cait
The Welsh and the men of Dublin, the Scots and the Norsemen,
Those of Cornwall and Strathclyde will reconcile as one.
Kings and nobles will subdue the interlopers, drive them into exile
Bring an end to the dominion, and make them food for the wild beasts.
There will be no return for the tribes of the Saxons.’
In its entirety, it foretells a uniting of the Welsh, with all the other kingdoms then in Britain, against the English, or Saxons, those people who had run roughshod over the island at some point between 400-600, when the Saxon kingdoms emerge with more clarity.
Somewhat similar to the legendary figures of Welsh literature, (although not Arthur at this stage) – Cynan and Cadwalladr ap Cadwallan are named – it was a call to arms to defeat the Saxons/English. (I’m going to share a post about Cynan as well).
It’s been nearly a decade since I first conceived of this storyline, but reading it all over again, and adding a whole host of new details, I confess, I feel pretty proud of myself for weaving the poem into my story of Britain in the 920s and 930s, and appreciate that the suggestion the poem dates from this period does indeed make perfect sense, even if there are also other suggestions about its origins.
King of Kings and Kings of War are now available, telling the story of the greatest battle on British soil that many have never heard from (or at least hadn’t before Seven Kings Must Die was filmed), Brunanburh.
Confusingly, Athelstan the Ealdorman shares the same name as King Athelstan, a fact I allow the pair to find amusing because of the uncertainty it causes.
Athelstan is the son of an ealdorman, and one of four brothers, although one has already died by the events of Kings of War. Athelstan, Eadric and Æthelwald are held in high regard by King Athelstan. In time, all of them would become ealdormen.
Ealdorman Athelstan of the East Angles would become so powerfulthat he’d earn the epithet of ‘The Half-King’, and his family was influential throughout the tenth-century, and if you’ve read others of my books – especially those concerning Lady Elfrida, England’s first crowned queen – you’ll know they cause a lot of problems.
In my version, Athelstan is married to Lady Ælfwynn, the cousin of King Athelstan, a suggestion that isn’t widely accepted, but is certainly a possibility, thus making him a member of King Athelstan’s extended family.
His epithet, the Half-King could have arisen because he was indeed married to the king’s cousin (under Athelstan, Edmund and Eadred). If this is the case, and it’s impossible to prove, then Ælfwynn, as the wife of Ealdorman Athelstan, had four sons, Æthelwold, Æthelwine, Æthelsige and Ælfwold, and these sons would be friends and enemies of the kings of England in later years. She might also have been given the fostering of the orphaned, and future King Edgar, which would also have made these men the future king’s foster brothers.
‘he [Athelstan Half-King] bestowed marriage upon a wife, one Ælfwynn by name, suitable for his marriage bed as much as by the nobility of her birth as by the grace of her unchurlish appearance. Afterwards she nursed and brought up with maternal devotion the glorious King Edgar, a tender boy as yet in the cradle. When Edgar afterwards attained the rule of all England, which was due to him by hereditary destiny, he was not ungrateful for the benefits he had received from his nurse. He bestowed on her, with regal munificence, the manor of Weston, which her son, the Ealdorman, afterwards granted to the church of Ramsey in perpetual alms for her soul, when his mother was taken from our midst in the natural course of events.’ Edington, S and Others, Ramsey Abbey’s Book of Benefactors Part One: The Abbey’s Foundation, (Hakedes, 1998) pp.9-10
Even if Athelstan Half King wasn’t married to the daughter of Lady Æthelflæd of Mercia, it seems he was married to an Ælfwynn. He was a powerful man, building a dynasty, and also part of a powerful dynasty. His father was an ealdorman, and so was he, and all of his three brothers. Between them, they must often have been found at the court of the king in the tenth-century. Athelstan was the ealdorman of East Anglia, his older brother, Ælfstan, one of the ealdormen of Mercia (930-934) before his death, while Eadric was an ealdorman of Wessex (942-949), and Æthelwald was an ealdorman of Kent (940-946). But, it is Athelstan who built himself a dynasty and remained in his position for twenty-four years from c.932-956.
First things first, no one actually knows where the battle of Brunanburh took place. No one. There are a number of different sites that historians have suggested from the one I’ve chosen in Kings of War, indeed, upwards of forty of them, although Bromborough in Cheshire, Brinsworth in South Yorkshire and Burnswark in Dumfries and Galloway are the most well-known. It’s worth noting that these different locations range all over Britain, from Devon to Scotland from the east coast to the west.
Frontispiece of Bede’s Life of St Cuthbert, showing King Æthelstan (924–39) presenting a copy of the book to the saint himself. 29.2 x 20cm (11 1/2 x 7 7/8″). Originally from MS 183, f.1v at Corpus Christi College, Cambridge. (Wikimedia Commons)
As one historian has commented, more discussion has taken place about where Brunanburh was located than about its actual historical significance, which is often seen as much less important in the grand scheme of later events. Much of these difficulties arise because of the variety of names given to the location of the battle. Brunandun, in Æthelweard’s Chronicon (a later tenth century Latin copy of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle), Symeon of Durham suggested Weondune, although known by the name Brunnaneerc or Brunnanbyrig, while Geoffrey Gaimar (another post Conquest source) names it as Bruneswerce. To add to the confusion, are some of the descriptions given about the battle. John of Worcester ( a later source) asserts that Olaf and Constantin entered the mouth of the River Humber something that Symeon of Durham echoes. It’s been suggested that John of Worcester (an Anglo-Norman writing long after the events of 937 took place) took the knowledge that the River Humber was where Harald Hardrada landed in 1066 and Svein Forkbeard in 1069 and extrapolated from it.
As part of the discussion about where the battle took place, another problem needs to be addressed, that of the belief that the English rode down the Norse as they were fleeing from the battlefield to reach their ships. A word, eorodcistum, has been taken to be a reference to horses. Paul Cavill has shown that this word actually refers to gatherings of men and need not mean that horses were involved . This therefore does away with the argument that the Norse ships were far from where the battle took place.
As well as the various sources mentioned above, the battle is also referenced in Welsh, Scottish and Irish sources. It was deemed to be significant. The Chronicles of the Kings of Alba gives a very brief account: ‘And the battle of Dun Brunde in his xxxiii year in which was slain the son of Constantin.’ While the Annals of Ulster tell us: ‘AU 937.6. A great, lamentable and horrible battle was cruelly fought between the Saxons and the Northmen, in which several thousands of Northmen, who are uncounted, fell, but their king, Amlaib, escaped with a few followers. A large number of Saxons fell on the other side, but Æ∂elstan, king of the Saxons, enjoyed a great victory.’ (Alex Woolf, From Pictland to Alba, 789-1070, p.169) (Amlaib was an Irish version of the name Olaf). A later source, that of the Historia Regum Anglorum by Symeon of Durham, tells that ‘Onlaf’ came with 615 ships. There are also many later sources that tell of the battle of Brunanburh, the distance in time to them being written, tending to add more and more details which can’t be confirmed with any accuracy.
Map design by Flintlock Covers
Pauline Stafford, who has written an extensive account of the actual writing of what we know as The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, After Alfred:Anglo-Saxon Chronicles and Chroniclers 900-1150, (which survives in nine recensions/or versions, all with slightly different details and emphasis) states that perhaps the most famous account of the battle, the Brunanburh poem, was a retrospective addition, probably written in the twenty years after Athelstan’s death, and certainly before the death of the last son of King Edward the Elder, Eadred, in 955. Some have suggested that Edmund may not actually have been present at the battle but that it was deemed expedient to assign him a part in it, perhaps after his death, to show the sons of King Edward the Elder working together for England.
And there is one final source, which I’ve made no use of, but which many may be aware of, that of the accounting of the battle, named as Vinhei∂r in Egil’s Saga, a thirteenth-century Icelandic saga, which of course, is a tale of Egil’s involvement in the battle and tells us very little about the battle itself.
In recent years, and indeed, before I wrote the initial drafts of this book and its predecessor, there has been a move to accept the Wirral as the possible location. Bernard Cornwell has been instrumental, as has an archaeology group based in Wirral, in trying to find corroborating evidence for this. The results of the work can be found in Never Greater Slaughter by Michael Livingstone. Even now, I find it amusing that it wasn’t until Bernard Cornwell made Brunanburh one of the burhs built by the House of Wessex that I quite realized the significance of that element of the name.
In my role as writer of historical fiction, I chose the site that I thought offered the best opportunity to develop the storyline and the one that intrigued me the most. After all, it does sort of make sense that any battle for York would have taken place close to York, but equally, why would the Dublin Norse have sailed all the way around the tip of Scotland to get to York from the East Coast? If they used one of the portage routes overland then again, we must ask why. And so, I opted for the position which would be the closest way of them stepping foot on English soil.
Britania Saxonica, 17th Century Map, showing Brunanburh north of Bamburgh
Kings of War is available now in ebook, paperback, audio and hardback.
It’s release day for Kings of War, the sequel to King of Kings. This is the story of the battle of Brunanburh fought in 937. (Check out my post on where exactly Brunanburh was fought).
I’m so excited to share this story with my readers, and the cover is fantastic.
Here’s the blurb:
Can the King of the Scots and the Dublin Norse triumph against a united England?
AD934
King Athelstan of the English has been successful in uniting the many kingdoms of Britain against one enemy, the Viking raiders.
But men who are kings don’t wish to be ruled.
Constantin, King of the Scots, rebelled against the Imperium and was forcibly brought to bend the knee to Athelstan and England at Cirencester.
His son Ildulb seeks bloody vengeance from Athelstan following the battle at Cait and the death of his son.
Olaf Gothfrithson, king of the Dublin Norse, having asserted his power following his father’s death has his sights set on reclaiming Jorvik.
Can the united might of the Scots and the violence of the Dublin Norse, descendants of the infamous Viking raiders, bring King Athelstan and his vision of the united Saxon English to her knees?
An epic story of kingsmanship that will result in the pivotal, bloody Battle of Brunanburh, where only one side can be victorious.
Read the release day posts on Boldwood Books Facebook account
Kings of War is on blog tour with the fabulous hosts of Rachel’s Random Resources. I’ll be sharing their reviews throughout the next week. A huge thank you to Rachel, and the hosts.
Today, I’m delighted to welcome a returning Alan Bardos to the blog, with a post about A Comedy of Errors inspired by his book about the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife Sophie.
The assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand was one of history’s greatest turning points, but it happened by accident. Everyone knows the story ends with the death of the Archduke and his wife, Sophie, putting into play the diplomatic crisis that lead to the First World War. It is perhaps less well known that the events leading up to the assassination were a terrible comedy of errors that culminated in a world changing tragedy.
It was this combination of tragedy and comedy that first drew me to the story and, I hope will draw people to a novel about the assassination, despite knowing the ending! The assassination of Franz Ferdinand happened as a result of a whole series of mistakes and missed opportunities right from the beginning.
When the assassins travelled from Belgrade to Sarajevo, Nedeljko Cabrinovic the biggest liability of the conspirators, met a police detective from Sarajevo on the train in Bosnia. The detective was a friend of his father’s, who was a businessman and pillar of the community, which had created a lot of conflict with his radical son.
The policeman had recently seen Nedeljko’s father and struck up a conversation with Nedeljko to catch him up on family news. This made Gavrilo Princip, who was traveling separately, but by accident sitting in the same train carriage, nervous. Cabrinovic’s easy going nature had already endangered the other assassins during the journey. The Policeman noticed and asked Cabrinovic who Gavrilo was and why he was staring at them, but his suspicions were not raised any further. A simple request to see Gavrilo Princip’s papers would have revealed that he was travelling illegally and put pay to the whole plot before the assassins reached Sarajevo.
This reflects the Austro-Hungarian Government’s attitude to the threat placed by the nationalist movements in their Balkan provinces. No attempt was made to counter them because the security services did not believe they existed, let alone posed a threat. The repeated warnings of a possible assassination were ignored by the local military governor, General Potiorek, the Archduke himself and the Austro-Hungarian Government. The idea that half starved schoolboys could be any kind of a threat was too ridiculous to contemplate.
This is the main theme I wanted to explore in The Assassins, through my two lead fictional characters: Johnny Swift, a feckless British diplomat and Lazlo Breitner, a methodical Hungarian official.
Breitner is well aware of the threat from the assassins and does everything he can to persuade the authorities of the danger posed by the nationalist movements, bringing him into conflict with his superiors.
He is forced to take drastic measures to convince them and coerces Johnny into joining the conspirators. Johnny manages to ingratiate himself with the assassins and joins in their reckless behaviour that should have got them caught. Somehow they remain undetected and Johnny’s licentious nature frustrates Breitner’s plan.
On the morning of the Archduke’s visit Johnny realises the enormity of his error and tries to foil the assassination plot. Then the tragedies of 28th June 1914 come into play.
They say that the side that makes the least amount of mistakes wins a war. It also seems to be the case for the side who starts them.
Here’s the blurb
1914.
Tensions are reaching boiling point in Europe and the threat of war is imminent.
Johnny Swift, a young and brash diplomatic clerk employed by the British embassy is sent to infiltrate the ‘Young Bosnians’, a group of idealistic conspirators planning to murder Franz Ferdinand. The heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne, in a bid to liberate their country from the monarchy’s grip.
Swift has been having an affair with his employer’s wife, Lady Elizabeth Smyth. Sir George Smyth dispatches the agent on the dangerous mission, believing that it will be the last he will see of his young rival.
The agent manages to infiltrate the Young Bosnian conspirators’ cell, helped by Lazlo Breitner, a Hungarian Civil Servant. However, Swift soon realises that he may be in over his head. His gambling debts and taste for beautiful women prove the least of his problems as he struggles to survive on his wits in the increasingly complex – and perilous – world of politics and espionage.
Desperate to advance himself and with the lives of a royal couple unexpectedly in his hands, Swift tries to avert catastrophe.
Writing historical fiction combines the first great love of Alan Bardos’s life, making up stories, with the second, researching historical events and characters. He currently lives in Oxfordshire with his wife… the other great love of his life.
There is still a great deal of mystery and debate surrounding many of the events of the First World War, which he explores in his historical fiction series. Through the eyes of Johnny Swift, a disgraced and degenerate diplomat and soldier.
The series starts with the pivotal event of the twentieth century. The Assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand. The second book ‘The Dardanelles Conspiracy’ is based on an attempt by Naval Intelligence to bribe Turkey out of the First World War. In the third book Johnny will be employed as a useful idiot to flush out a traitor working to undermine the Allies.
My new book, Kings of War, is a multi-viewpoint novel telling the story of events in Britain from 925-934. I thought it would be good to share details of the historical people my character are based on.
My portrayal of Constantin, the king of the Scots, is of course fictional in King of Kings, but he is based on a historical individual, Constantin (e) II, so who exactly was he?
Constantin is a fascinating character. Again, and as with Athelstan, his exact date of birth is unknown, but it must have been, at the latest, by 877/8, when his short-reigned father died.
By 900, Constantin was the king of the Scots (we think – there is some confusion about this). This wasn’t yet quite Scotland, but it was getting there. The ancient kingdoms of Cait, Fortriu, Atholl and Dal Riata, were ruled by one king, Constantin. But, he hadn’t succeeded his father, Aed, but rather a man named Domnall II, his cousin. At this time there were two rival dynasties and they strictly alternated the kingship.
Affairs in the kingdom of the Scots often intermingled with those of the independent kingdom of Bamburgh, Strathclyde, and of course, the Norse, or Viking raiders, if you will. Indeed, the entry recording Constantin’s death in the Annals of Ulster, reads as though there was often strife.
‘Constantinus son of Ed held the kingdom for xl years in whose third year the Northmen plundered Dunkeld and all Albania. In the following year the Northmen were slain in Strath Erenn…And the battle of Tinemore happened in his xviii year between Constantin and Ragnall and the Scotti had the victory. And the battle of Dun Brunde in his xxxiiii year.’ (Alex Woolf, From Pictland to Scotland, 789-1070,p.126)
Constantin, ruling for decades, and I mean decades, seems to have brought much needed stability to the kingdom, as affairs there very much mirrored the emerging ‘England’ to the south.
‘Constantin’s reign has increasingly come to be see as one of the most significant in the history of Scotland. Not only was it very long, at least forty years, but it was also the period during which conflict and diplomatic relations between a kingdom recognisably ancestral to Scotland and one recognisably ancestral to England first occurred.’ (Alex Woolf, From Pictland to Scotland, 789-1070, p.128)
Constantin allied with the rulers of Bamburgh, and York, and also, on occasion, both Æthelflæd of Mercia and Edward the Elder, after her death. But, he seems to have been quite flexible in his thinking, and was prepared to pick and choice as he saw fit.
By the beginning of King of Kings, Constantin would have been in his mid-forties, and he was still to rule for many years to come, and he was certainly a more than adequate counterpart to Athelstan, king of the English, no doubt helped by his sons and grandsons, as his reign continued.
Athelstan is one of the main characters in my new book, Kings of War, a multiple point of view story, recounting affairs in Britain from 925-934. Here’s a post about Athelstan I wrote for the release of King of Kings.
Based on a historical person, my portrayal of him, is of course, fictitious, but there are many details known about him. However, we don’t know for sure who his mother was, it’s believed she might have been called Ecgwynn, and we don’t know, for certain, the name of his sister, but it’s believed she might have been named Edith. What is known is that his father was Edward, the son of King Alfred, and known to us today as Edward the Elder. Athelstan is also rare in that he is one of only two Saxon kings for who a contemporary image is available. (The other is Edgar, who would have been his step-nephew)
It must be supposed that Athelstan was born sometime in the late 890s. And according to a later source, that written by William of Malmesbury in the 1100s (so over two hundred years later), Athelstan was raised at the court of his aunt, Æthelflæd of Mercia. David Dumville has questioned the truth of this, but to many, this has simply become accepted as fact.
‘he [Alfred] arranged for the boy’s education at the court of his daughter, Æthelflæd and Æthelred his son in law, where he was brought up with great care by his aunt and the eminent ealdorman for the throne that seemed to await him.’[i]
[i] Mynors, R.A.B. ed and trans, completed by Thomson, R.M. and Winterbottom, M. Gesta Regvm Anglorvm, The History of the English Kings, William of Malmesbury, (Clarendon Press, 1998), p.211 Book II.133
Why then might this have happened? Edward became king on the death of his father, Alfred, and either remarried at that time, or just before. Edward’s second wife (if indeed, he was actually married to Athelstan’s mother, which again, some doubt), Lady Ælfflæd is believed to have been the daughter of an ealdorman and produced a hefty number of children for Edward. Perhaps then, Athelstan and his unnamed sister, were an unwelcome reminder of the king’s first wife, or perhaps, as has been suggested, Alfred intended for Athelstan to succeed in Mercia after the death of Æthelflæd, and her husband, Æthelred, for that union produced one child, a daughter named Ælfwynn.
There is an acknowledged dearth of information surrounding King Edward the Elder’s rule of Wessex. He’s acknowledged as the king of the Anglo-Saxons. His father had been the king of Wessex. Historians normally use the surviving charters to unpick the political machinations of the Saxon kings, but for Edward, there’s a twenty year gap between the beginning and end of his reign, where almost no known genuine charters have survived. What isn’t known for sure, is how much control, if any, he had in Mercia. Was Mercia subservient to Wessex or was it ruled independently? It’s impossible to tell. And this makes it difficult to determine what Athelstan might have been doing, and also what his father’s intentions were towards him.
Frontispiece of Bede’s Life of St Cuthbert, showing King Æthelstan (924–39) presenting a copy of the book to the saint himself. 29.2 x 20cm (11 1/2 x 7 7/8″). Originally from MS 183, f.1v at Corpus Christi College, Cambridge. (Wikimedia Commons)
What is known is that following the death of King Edward in 924, Athelstan was acknowledged as the king of Mercia; his stepbrother, Ælfweard was proclaimed king in Wessex. As with all events at this time, it shouldn’t be assumed that just because this is what happened, this is what was always intended.
‘Here King Edward died at Farndon in Mercia; and very soon, 16 days after, his son Ælfweard died at Oxford; and their bodies lie at Winchester. And Athelstan was chosen as king by the Mercians and consecrated at Kingston.’[i]
[i] Swanton, M. trans and edit The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles, (Orion Publishing Group, 2000), D text p.105
But, if Athelstan was raised in Mercia, it’s highly likely he was a warrior from a young age, helping the Mercians defeat the Viking raiders who still had control of the Danish Five Boroughs of Lincoln, Nottingham, Derby, Nottingham and Leicester.
And the events of 924 are where King of Kings begins, and so I will leave him there. By now, he would have been perhaps thirty years old, give or take a few years. What sort of man was he? What sort of king might he be? Do please read King of Kings to find out. And, if this intrigues you, then do please have a look at Sarah Foot’s wonderful monograph on him, Athelstan, from Yale Publishing.
Today, I’m sharing a fab excerpt from Under His Spell.
Fritz stood awkwardly at the nursery door. “Should we really be here?” he asked his mother. “I mean, should the men come to the nursery?”
“Fritz, the Queen asked us to; I think you can tell what is proper,” she said shortly.
“How is my little Godson?” Papa was asking Prince Albert.
“Very well indeed, look at him,” the Prince Albert said. “He is a strong little fellow.”
“Fritz, come and meet your Godbrother,” Papa said.
The little boy stood, wobbling. “Fitz solda?” he asked.
“He is an observant little fellow, to see that we are in uniform,” Fritz said, awkwardly picking up the little boy. He set him back down on his feet after a moment, watching as the little boy reached out his hand toward him. He fell, slapping Fritz’s leg in the process.
“Our little warrior is very strong,” the Queen laughed.
Arthur sat up again. “Fitz, Fitz solda; Ata be solda!” he giggled as he pulled on the spur on Fritz’s boot.
“Yes, I can see you will be a soldier,” Fritz said, sitting down and holding out his cap. “Come here, my little Godbrother.” He liked the sound of that. Godbrother. In Prussia they almost always said “sponsors”, not “Godparents”. Arthur toddled toward him, taking hold of his cap and trying to put it on. It covered his whole head and shoulders. Fritz laughed.
Vicky appeared at the door. “So, you have met my dear little brother,” she said, picking Arthur up and sitting at Fritz’s side. “Isn’t he a darling?”
“He is a precious child,” said Fritz, a little awkwardly. “But – you are used to this?” he said, watching Vicky stroke her little brother’s head.
“Yes, Mama calls me their little mother. You… You only have Vivi. But didn’t you do this with her?”
“No, the older children aren’t allowed back into the nursery once they leave it, in Prussia,” he said. “I mostly saw her when she was brought down after dessert, when the nurse took her out for walks, and for a few minutes in company, until she was about seven.”
“Oh!” Vicky exclaimed. “I can’t imagine that. How lonely you must be!” She slipped her hand into his. “I am your friend now.”
Here’s the blurb
A beautiful love story between the Princess Royal Victoria and Fritz Wilhelm, Frederick III of Prussia
A lonely young man attends the first World’s Fair – the Great Exhibition of 1851 – and meets a family who changes his life forever.
Follow the young Prince Fritz – later Friedrich III – of Prussia and his wife, Queen Victoria’s eldest daughter, Vicky, (parents of Kaiser Wilhelm II) through their courtship and the joys and struggles of their first four years of marriage.
Fritz and Vicky dream of a peaceful united Germany, but Fritz’s uncle Karl has his own dreams of power…
Discover often hinted at but unrevealed secrets of the Prussian Royal court…
Luv Lubker has lived in the Victorian era half her life, making friends with the Brontë sisters and the extended family of Queen Victoria. Now she knows them quite as well as her own family.
Born in a cattle trough in the Appalachian mountains, Luv lives in Texas – when she comes to the modern world.
When she isn’t living in the Victorian era, she enjoys being with her family; making and eating delicious raw food, riding her bike (which she only learned to ride at 25, though she’d ridden a unicycle since she was 7), and watching animals – the passion of her childhood.
There are a few new characters in Kings of War, the sequel to King of Kings. Here I’ll explain who the historical individuals probably were, and what’s known about them, if anything. That said, Edmund did feature in King of Kings, but I’ve not shared his information before.
Edmund, of the House of Wessex, is the second-youngest halfbrother of the king, Athelstan. His date of birth is not known for sure, but it’s believed to have been in about 921, as he’s said to have been 18 when he became king on Athelstan’s death. His mother is Lady Eadgifu, the third wife of Edward the Elder. He has a full brother, Eadred, even younger than him.
Family tree by Boldwood Books
‘And the Ætheling succeeded to the kingdom; and he was then 18 years old.’ (ASC A)
Edmund would only have been very young when his father, Edward the Elder, died in 924. It’s doubtful whether he had any memory of him at all. It’s long been believed that his mother, Lady Eadgifu, was responsible for raising him and his younger brother. What precisely Edmund was doing during the reign of his older half-brother isn’t known for sure. He is said to have fought beside him at the Battle of Brunanburh, but some cast doubt on this.
What is known is that Edmund had a sister (possibly two) and his sister, Eadburh, c.919-952, became a nun and was regarded as a saint.
William of Malmesbury in his Gesta Pontificum Anglorum tells the story of Edmund’s sister, Eadburh,[i] being consigned to the Nunnaminster in infancy as she showed such signs of devotion.[ii]
‘There had been a convent on this spot before, in which Eadburg, daughter of king Edward the Elder, had lived and died, but by then it was almost in ruins. When she was barely three, Eadburg had given a remarkable proof of her future holiness. Her father had wanted to find out whether his little girl would turn towards God or the world. He set out in the dining room the adornments of the different ways of life, on this side a chalice and the Gospels, on the other bangles and necklaces. The little girl was brought in by the nurse and sat on her father’s knees. He told her to choose which she wanted. With a fierce look she spat out the things of the world, and immediately crawling on hands and knees towards the Gospels and chalice adored them in girlish innocence…Her father honoured his offspring with more restrained kisses and said, ‘Go where heaven calls you, follow the bridegroom you have chosen and a blessing be upon your going.’…Countless miracles during her life and after her death bear witness to the devotion of her heart and the integrity of her body.’[iii]
William later adds that, ‘Some of the bones of Eadburg the happy are buried,’[iv] at Pershore.
Aside from the later William of Malmesbury (who wrote long after the Norman Conquest of 1066), Eadburh is the recipient of land in one charter, that of S446, dated to 939 and surviving in one manuscript. ‘King Athelstan to Eadburh, his sister; grant of 17 hides (mansae) at Droxford, Hants.’[v] Other that, nothing is known of Eadburh with any certainty.
I won’t share more details of Edmund just yet as he has an important part to play in the Brunanburh Series.
You can read King of Kings for FREE for a very limited time on Amazon, Kobo and Apple Books in the UK, US, Australia and Canada. (3rd-10th July ’23)
[ii] Foot, S Athelstan (Yale University Press, 2011), p.45 Priest, D trans, Gesta Pontificum Anglorum, The Deeds of the Bishops of England, (The Boydell Press, 2002)
[iii] Priest, D trans, Gesta Pontificum Anglorum, The Deeds of the Bishops of England, (The Boydell Press, 2002), pp115-6
[iv] Priest, D trans, Gesta Pontificum Anglorum, The Deeds of the Bishops of England, (The Boydell Press, 2002), p.202
[v] Sawyer, P. H. (Ed.), Anglo-Saxon charters: An annotated list and bibliography, rev. Kelly, S. E., Rushforth, R., (2022). http://www.esawyer.org.uk/ S446
MJ Porter 
