Author of Saxon historical fiction and non-fiction, 20th-century historical mysteries, and Norse-inspired historical romantasy. Book reviewer and blog host.
For Sophie it’s a trip home and for Hector it’s time to meet Sophie’s parents… Though their trip has village tongues wagging about a stop at Scotland’s notorious elopement spot, Gretna Green.
No matter what, it’ll make a nice break from the murder and mayhem that has been plaguing their beautiful Cotswolds village. But Sophie and Hector are barely on the road before they’re being hassled by reckless drivers and at their first rest stop a body is discovered.
Then comes a series of ‘accidents’ that leave poor Hector a little worse for wear. Is someone after Hector? Who could even know he was in the Highlands?
Accidents or not, can they find some way to keep Hector safe?
Murder in the Highlands is the latest book in the Sophie Sayers cosy crime series, usually set in a small Cotswold village, but not on this occasion. Sophie and Hector (who isn’t Scottish) are off to Inverness for a well-deserved holiday with her mother and father.
But as ever, dark going-ons and strange occurrences follow them on the long journey north, and Sophie is left feeling that there’s a mystery to solve, but unsure what it can be about, and even worse, that it somehow involves Hector.
I really enjoy this series of books – Sophie is a fun character, if troubled with an overactive imagination – as a writer, and her character is a writer, I’m right there with her. Hector is usually the more grounded of the two, but this time, even he’s starting to worry about what’s happening.
While there is no sighting of the Loch Ness monster, this is a fun mystery firmly rooted in Inverness, which the author has visited extensively, and the mystery is one of the stronger ones in the series that plays out, perhaps, in a more conventional way to earlier books in the series.
A great addition to the cosy crime series, which is going from strength to strength.
Meet the Author
Debbie Young is the much-loved author of the Sophie Sayers and St Brides cosy crime mysteries. She lives in a Cotswold village where she runs the local literary festival, and has worked at Westonbirt School, both of which provide inspiration for her writing. She is bringing both her series to Boldwood in a 13-book contract. They will be publishing several new titles in each series and republishing the backlist, starting in September 2022.
I’m really excited to share the details of the Pagan Warrior blog tour with The Coffee Pot Book Club.
Pagan Warrior is the story of the battle of Hædfeld, fought in the seventh century between the Northumbrians, and you got it, the Mercians – or rather, Cadwallon of Gwynedd but with Penda of Mercia as his firm ally. You can find more details here.
I might have written this book many years ago, but it’s had a refresh, and is now available in audio, narrated by the fabulous, Matt Coles, as is the second book, Pagan King. Warrior King will be coming later this year in audio. For this first week, 13th March-19th March, the ebook of Pagan Warrior is reduced globally. Follow the link below.
You can follow the blog tour, and I’ll be sharing posts here as well. A quick shout out to thank all the blog hosts and Cathie at The Coffee Pot Book Club for organising.
For today, March 14th, check out my author interview over on Archaeolibrarian.
I’m sharing a fabulous post by Glen Craney below regarding the mistakes historical novelists must be wary of making.
Exposing History’s Cracks of Logic
Historical novelists are always prospecting for untapped veins in the strata of the past. Some of the richest lodes can be found in the lapses of logic and analysis that even the most astute of historians are at times prone to commit. Perhaps the best compilation of such errors in judgment and interpretation is Historians’ Fallacies, a treatise published in 1970 by Brandeis University professor David Hackett Fischer.
Readers of history will remember Fischer from Albion’s Seed, his exploration of the impact British folkways had on American society, and Washington’s Crossing, a study of George Washington’s leadership of the Continental Army.
Fischer’s impressive overview of historiography should be kept close at hand on the bookshelf of every historical novelist. Most of the miscalculations he skewers—exemplified by excerpts from the writings of his colleagues, many of whom no doubt chafed at being called to task—apply with equal force to the writing of historical fiction.
The best known of these gaffes gave its name to Fischer’s book: the historian’s fallacy. This refers to the error of assuming that the great leaders and decision-makers of the past possessed the same facts and perspective as we do in hindsight.
Fischer offered as an exhibit the popular claim that the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor should have been foreseen from the numerous warning signs. He cautions historians against the tendency of sifting away evidence that, at the time, might have clouded one’s judgment or even supported a contrary opinion.
Likewise, historical novelists must be on their guard against attributing to their characters more knowledge of events than is warranted. It is easy enough for us to chastise Robert E. Lee for ordering Pickett’s charge. The task of both the historian and novelist is to recreate the fog of war at Gettysburg with such verisimilitude that the reader will come to understand why such a decision was rational on July 3, 1863.
The American Civil War seems to have served as the subject for every fallacy condemned by Fischer. Another infamous example castigated by Fischer is the discovery by Union scouts of the cigar-wrapped copies of Lee’s orders for the Antietam campaign. Every war buff has encountered the contention that this fortuitous (for the Union) incident set into motion a series of cascading events that eventually turned the tide of the war. Fischer dismisses this as a product of the reductive fallacy, which boils a complex soup of causal ingredients down into a single, simplified explanation.
In discussing another error, the fallacy of division (arguing that a quality shared by some in a group is shared by all), Fischer offers a faulty syllogism for our dissection:
Most Calvinists were theological determinists Most New England Puritans were Calvinists. Therefore, most New England Puritans were theological determinists.
Fischer observed that then-recent scholarship suggested the Puritans were not determinists, at least not as was commonly assumed. Here one finds a gold nugget, one of many available for the taking by the writer who will persist in combing these fallacies: A novel set in Puritan New England with a main character who believes in free will.
In The Da Vinci Code, Dan Brown made great use of yet another error that comes under special opprobrium from Fischer: the furtive fallacy. This is the assumption that certain events and facts of “special significance” are “dark and dirty things and that history itself is a story of causes mostly insidious and results mostly invidious.”
Of course, some of the best historical fiction would have to be tossed onto Savonarola’s bonfire if a ban on this fallacy were strictly enforced. Fischer doesn’t argue that conspiracies have never taken place. His criticism goes to a more fundamental paranoia that, if left unchallenged, can metastasize into a societal epidemic that weakens the very foundations of institutions.
It begins with the premise that reality is a sordid, secret thing; and that history happens on the back stairs a little after midnight, or else in a smoke-filled room, or a perfumed boudoir, or an executive penthouse or somewhere in the inner sanctum of the Vatican or the Kremlin, or the Reich Chancellery, or the Pentagon. It is something more, and something other than merely a conspiracy theory, though that form of causal reduction is a common component.
The furtive fallacy is a more profound error, which combines a naïve epistemological assumption that things are never what they seem to be, with a firm attachment to the doctrine of original sin.
Still, Professor Robert Langdon might remind his colleague Dr. Fischer that just because one is paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t out to get you.
The historical novelist is not only free but compelled to adopt and exploit these rich fallacies to spin out a good story—so long as he does so consciously.
Thank you for sharing:)
Here’s the blurb
Two armies. One flag. No honor.
The most shocking day in American history.
Former political journalist Glen Craney brings to life the little-known story of the Bonus March of 1932, which culminates in a bloody clash between homeless World War I veterans and U.S. Army regulars on the streets of Washington, D.C.
Mired in the Great Depression and on the brink of revolution, the nation holds its collective breath as a rail-riding hobo named Walter Waters leads 40,000 destitute men and their families to the steps of the U.S. Capitol on a desperate quest for economic justice.
This timely epic evokes the historical novels of Jeff Sharra as it sweeps across three decades following eight Americans who survive the fighting in France and come together fourteen years later to determine the fate of a country threatened by communism and fascism.
From the Boxer Rebellion in China to the Plain of West Point, from the persecution of conscientious objectors to the horrors of the Marne, from the Hoovervilles of the heartland to the pitiful Anacostia encampment, here is an unforgettable portrayal of the political intrigue and government betrayal that ignited the only violent conflict between two American armies.
“[A] wonderful source of historical fact wrapped in a compelling novel.” — Historical Novel Society Reviews
“[A] vivid picture of not only men being deprived of their veterans’ rights, but of their human rights as well.…Craney performs a valuable service by chronicling it in this admirable book.” — Military Writers Society of America
Glen Craney is an author, screenwriter, journalist, and lawyer. A graduate of Indiana University Law School and Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism, he is the recipient of the Nicholl Fellowship Prize from the Academy of Motion Pictures and the Chaucer and Laramie First-Place Awards for historical fiction. He is also a four-time indieBRAG Medallion winner, a Military Writers Society of America Gold Medalist, a four-time Foreword Magazine Book-of-the-Year Award Finalist, and an Historical Novel Society Reviews Editor’s Choice honoree. He lives in Malibu and has served as the president of the Southern California Chapter of the HNS.
Why, I hear you cry? Well, I was on the trail of the Lady of Mercia, Æthelflæd, and her daughter Ælfwynn. Æthelflæd and her husband were buried in Gloucester, at St Oswald’s Priory, and I’m always writing about Gloucester, and Kingsholm, so I thought it was time I actually visited. Not that St Oswald Priory survives as anything more than a ruin these days.
The plaque telling visitors all about the ruins (I do love an old plaque. They just add to the story of a ruin).
Part of the ruins, with Gloucester Cathedral in the background.
Trying to capture as much of the ruin as possible in one photo.
View of the cathedral through the ruin (a pity about the garden shed)
I also visited the Cathedral, and really wish I’d done a bit more research about what they offer, as I didn’t factor in all the fabulous tours they do, including one up the tower to get a view of Gloucester. Maybe next time. But, I did find this delightful pearl, which must remind us all to make sure our notes are up to the task at hand.
The great window in Gloucester Cathedral
Can you imagine trying to put all those pieces back together after they took them down during WW2? Wow. Well done to those who accomplished the task. If you’re not sure of scale, it’s as big as a tennis court.
But to return to the priory. For those who know their history of the period, we might wonder why we have a St Oswald in Gloucester, which would have been very much in the heart of Mercia. Oswald, of course, was a king of Northumbria, a most Christian king, killed in battle against the might of the famous pagan king, Penda. The story goes that after his death, a band of brave Northumbrians retrieved their dead king, and returned him to Northumbria, where he was buried and revered. Why then would a Northumbrian saint, killed in the seventh century, become so closely associated with the Mercian ruling family?
I find this fascinating, and indeed, some years ago, attended a conference where I asked this question. The answer was enlightening. The Mercians, still facing the threat of the Viking raiders, needed a rallying cry. They needed a sainted figure whose cult they could effectively ‘steal’ or align with themselves, or so I was told, and St Oswald was that man, or rather that body, and so they stole him away from Bardney and took his to Gloucester, where his cult continued, and where Lady Æthelflæd and her husband, Ethelred, were later buried.
I’ve written about Oswald while he was alive, and of course, I’ve written about Mercia, Gloucester, Kingsholm, and Lady Ælfwynn. It was inspiring to finally see where the church once was, even if little remains of it, at least something does remain.
My new book, King of Kings, 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 main characters are based on.
Owain of Strathclyde is perhaps the most difficult character in King of Kings to find in the historical record. Indeed, his place in the story is contested by historians, as we don’t know if the scribe of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle of the time meant Owain of Strathclyde, or an Owain of one of the Welsh kingdoms. I decided to adopt the Owain of Strathclyde, but who exactly was he, and what was Strathclyde?
The kingdom of Strathclyde is also known by another name, that of Cumbria, and there is confusion in the sources and amongst historians about where it is and what it was. Alex Woolf suggests that by the events of 927, Strathclyde/Cumbria encompassed, ‘most of part of Lanarkshire, Dunbartonshire, Renfrewshire, Stirlingshire, Peebleshire, West and Mid-Lothian, eastern Dumfriesshire and Cumberland.’ (Woolf, A. From Pictland to Alba, 789-1070, Edinburgh University Press, 2007) p.155)
So who then were it’s kings? This again is far from as easy to state as might be thought. It’s believed that Owain of Strathclyde, succeeded his father, Donald II, to become king of Strathclyde, and in turn was succeeded by his son.
In 924, we are told that ‘the king of the Strathclyde Britons and all the Strathclyde Britons,’ (Swanton p.104) joined the king of Wessex, Edward the Elder’s alliance by the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, but Owain isn’t named. Indeed, and as said above, when we do get mention of Owain in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, he’s named as ‘king of Gwent,’ (Swanton, M. trans and edit The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles, (Orion Publishing Group, 2000) p.107) even though there was no Welsh king of Gwent named as Owain at the time. It’s therefore difficult to get a feel for who he was, and what he did, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t include him in King of Kings. If anything, it made it all the more intriguing.
I’m so excited about the release today of King of Kings. This story, the first part in the retelling of the greatest battle on British soil that many have never heard of, Brunanburh, has been long in the making. Building on the original series, begun in 2014, King of Kings is entirely reworked, and it’s so much better:) (I honestly can’t believe how much better it is.)
Here’s the blurb
‘An epic tale of the birth of a nation. Truly mesmerising. Game of Thrones meets The Last Kingdom’ – Gordon Doherty
In the battle for power, there can be only one ruler.
AD925
Athelstan is the king of the English, uniting the petty kingdoms of Wessex, Mercia, the Danish-held Five Boroughs and York following the sudden death of his father, King Edward.
His vision is to unite the realms of the Scots and the Welsh in a peace accord that will protect their borders from the marauding threat of the Norse Vikings.
Whilst seemingly craving peace and demanding loyalty with an imperium over every kingdom, Athelstan could dream of a much bigger prize.
But danger and betrayal surround his best intentions, namely from his overlooked stepbrother, Edwin, who conspires and vies for what he deems is his rightful place as England’s king.
As ever, powerful men who wish to rule do not wish to be ruled, and Constantin of the Scots, Owain of Strathclyde, and Ealdred of Bamburgh plot their revenge against the upstart English king, using any means necessary.
An epic story of kingsmanship that will set in motion the pivotal, bloody Battle of Brunanburh where allies have to be chosen wisely…
(available in ebook, paperback, hardback and audio, narrated by the wonderful Matt Coles).
King of Kings. with its five kingdoms, and one alliance, might need some explanation. To help my readers understand who everyone is, and importantly, where everyone is, King of Kings has a map and a genealogical table, as well as a cast of characters.
Map designed by Shaun at Flintlock Covers
And because the family of King Alfred is so important to the story, I also have a genealogical table to share with my readers.
Design by Boldwood Books
I’ve written some brief introductions for the main cast of characters.
And for those who are falling in love with the period as much as I am, I wanted to share some non-fiction recommendations, and cautions.
There is no one book that will adequately cover this period (that was one of the reasons that I fictionalised it) but these books (see photos below), along with Dr. Kari Maund’s The Welsh Kings, which I have in ebook, will give you a good grounding of events in Britain and Ireland. So, these are
Alfred’s Britain by Max Adams
Athelstan by Sarah Foot
The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles ed and trans. Michael Swanton (other versions available – I like the formatting of this one -with the different recensions)
The Welsh Kings by Kari Maund
An Atlas of Anglo-Saxon England by David Hill (don’t be put off by the fact this book is from the 1970s – it is invaluable)
From Pictland to Alba 789-1070 by Alex Woolf
Viking Kings of Britain and Ireland by Claire Downham
English Historical Documents ed and trans by Dorothy Whitelock
The Frankish Kingdom under the Carolingians by R McKitterick
Edward the Elder ed. Higham and Hill (not a narrative account, but historians writing papers about their area of interest and expertise).
There are also two very important online resources.
King of Kings has a number of characters, and some might be surprised to find Lady Eadgifu amongst them, but she was an incredibly important historical character, and I couldn’t leave her out of the narrative set at the English court.
Lady Eadgifu was the third wife of Edward the Elder (r.899-924), king of the Anglo-Saxons. Edward the Elder was the father of King Athelstan, and a whole host of daughters, as well as five sons. Lady Eadgifu would, it seems, have been young when she married the aging Edward the Elder, and that meant that she long outlived him, and also, that her three children (possibly four, but I’ve opted for three) were young when their father died. And two of these children were sons, Edmund (born c.921) and Eadred (born c.923). Her daughter, Eadburh, is thought to have been the oldest of the three children, born c.919.
While Lady Eadgifu, from what’s known (and it isn’t much, as there are few surviving charters from the end of Edward’s reign) perhaps had little role to play while her husband lived, other than wife and mother to the king’s children, following his death, she became increasingly significant. She was the daughter of an ealdorman, who perhaps died just before her birth, and her family are said to have had connections with Kent. Indeed, it’s often stated that she brought her husband Kent with their union. By that, what’s often meant, is the loyalty of the Kentish people. Remember, at this time, we’re still just before the creation of ‘England’ as we would now recognise it.
Sadly, very little is known about Lady Eadgifu (and she’s not alone in this – many of the royal women ‘disappear’ at points in the historical record, and on occasion, are entirely lost.) We know about a land dispute she was involved in, and also much more information for after Athelstan’s reign.
Indeed, it has been said that
‘Nor is it surprising that Eadgifu, as the consort of the previous king, served little role in her stepson’s court.[i]
‘the enhanced position [of Lady Eadgifu] may also have been developed specifically for the widowed Eadgifu as part of an alliance with her stepson Æthelstan [Athelstan] in which she supported his position and he recognised her sons as his heirs.’[i]
[i] Yorke, B. ‘The Women in Edgar’s Life,’ in Edgar, King of the English, 959-975 Scragg, D. ed (The Boydell Press, 2008), p.146
And it is this option that I’ve decided to explore in King of Kings. Lady Eadgifu was wife to a king. She would have known her worth, even when faced with a stepson as the king of the English, and another stepson, and stepdaughters, who perhaps didn’t share any love for their, potentially, younger stepmother. Will Lady Eadgifu work with or against Athelstan? Read on to find out.
Sophie Sayers is ready for a glorious summer, but when a dead body is found in the village school’s lost property cupboard the summer holidays take an unexpected turn.
Even more shocking is when the body goes missing. Without a body, the police refuse to investigate. That’s just not good enough.
Sophie is determined to get to the bottom of the mystery. She needs to find out who has died and nab the culprit if she’s going to save the village school from the threat of closure.
My Review
Murder Lost and Found continues the Sophie Sayers Cosy Mysteries.
It’s the summer holidays, the school is empty of children, but while the caretaker and office manager try to ensure the school is prepared for the start of term, strange happenings take place.
I really enjoy this collection of stories. They’re light-hearted and a quick, pacy read, and I felt this one was particularly strong with the mystery of the lost property cupboard and the strange notes, making poor Sophie doubt herself, even while she contends with change at Horace’s bookshop.
A fun and entertaining read. Bring on book 8.
My thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for my review copy.
Debbie Young is the much-loved author of the Sophie Sayers and St Brides cosy crime mysteries. She lives in a Cotswold village where she runs the local literary festival, and has worked at Westonbirt School, both of which provide inspiration for her writing. She is bringing both her series to Boldwood in a 13-book contract. They will be publishing several new titles in each series and republishing the backlist, starting in September 2022.
King of Kings has a number of characters, and King Ealdred, or Lord Ealdred of Bamburgh is one of them. But who was he, and what was the independent kingdom of Bamburgh?
Now, I think we all ‘think’ we know about Bebbanburg (Bamburgh) thanks to Uhtred of Bebbanburg, Bernard Cornwell’s creation. But events in Bamburgh are complex and not easy to understand, even for someone who might think they know the period quite well.
What was Bamburgh?
So what was Bamburgh? Bamburgh is traditionally associated with the kingdom of Bernicia – the far northern Saxon kingdom, which was particularly prominent during the seventh century, so three hundred years before the events of King of Kings, and which was joined to the kingdom of Deira to form Northumbria. Check out my Gods and Kings trilogy for the some of the events of this period.
The iconic castle that stands today is a later building, the oldest part, the keep, dating to the end of the Saxon period, while much of what we see today is the later work of Lord Armstrong (who built Cragside), when he significantly repaired the remains. Indeed, the family still own Bamburgh Castle, although not Cragside, which is a National Trust property. (I’ve written a 1930s mystery set at Cragside).
Bamburgh is slightly unusual in that there are old images of the castle before the 19th century work of Armstrong. I enjoy collecting these antique prints. We often find such buildings falling into ruin, not being ruined and the rebuilt.
Antique prints of Bamburgh Castle
And Bamburgh Castle and its environs are stuffed with archaeology. There were some very famous archaeological investigations undertaken in the 1960s, and there’s now a dedicated team unearthing the treasures hidden beneath the current building. You can follow the teams work at Bamburgh Research Project’s Blog. You might know about Bamburgh because of the seventh century bones discovered in the Bole Hole, and there’s a great book about this, Warrior by Edoardo Albert and Paul Gething – available from all good book sellers. You can also learn about where these bones now lie by checking out Bamburgh Bones.
The well
The Tenth Century at Bamburgh
But, all this is before the events of the tenth-century (or after), as fascinating as it is. So, what was happening in the tenth-century? The easiest way I can describe this is that while York, and much of the Saxon kingdom of Northumbria was inundated with the Norse (Viking raiders if you will), Bamburgh was a bastion against this influx, wedged between the growing might of the kingdom of the Scots, ruled by Constantin, and the constantly changing affairs of York, and its string of Norse rulers, often associated with Dublin as well.
Ealdred’s father, Eadwulf is somewhat better attested, with the Annals of Ulster naming him as ‘king of the Saxons of the north.’ He died in c.913 and then Ealdred seems to have had a difficult time of it, his gaze more likely to turn to the Scots kingdom than the known Saxon rulers based in Mercia and Wessex when he was threatened by the Norse Viking raiders.
However, he joined an alliance with Edward the Elder, king of the Anglo-Saxons, in 920 (corrected from 924).
‘And then the king of Scots and all the nation of Scots chose him as father and lord; and [so also did] Reginald and Eadwulf’s sons and all those who live in Northumbria, both English and Danish and Norwegians and others; and also the king of the Strathclyde Britons and all the Strathclyde Britons.’
(Swanton, M. trans and edit The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles, (Orion Publishing Group, 2000 p.104 (A text )
This then takes us to the beginning of King of Kings. Will Ealdred continue his alliance with the new king of the Anglo-Saxons, or will he look elsewhere, especially now that the Viking raider, Sihtric, is lord of York/Jorvik?
What about Uhtred of Bebbanburg?
As to Uhtred himself, of The Last Kingdom fame, he’s even more shadowy than Ealdred, and for that reason, doesn’t feature at all in King of Kings, although there is an ealdorman Uhtred who will appear in subsequent books.
My new book, King of Kings, 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 main characters are based on.
My portrayal of Hywel, better known as Hywel Dda (which autocorrect is determined should say Dad), and which means ‘good’ (a unique epithet in Wales), is of course, fictional, but who was the historical Hywel? Firstly, it should be noted that this epithet is a later invention, not assigned to Hywel until at least the twelfth century, and perhaps, as Dr. Kari Maund has commented in The Welsh Kings: Warriors, Warlords and Princes, a reflection of border events at that period rather than the earlier tenth century. (Dr Maund was one of my university lecturers, so she knows her stuff).
Hywel has no date of birth recorded, and indeed, like Constantin of the Scots, he seems to have ruled for a long time providing much-needed consistency. Hywel ap Cadell was the grandson of the famous Rhodri Mawr, who’d united the kingdoms of the Welsh during his rule. But, this unity fragmented on Rhodri’s death.
To begin with, Hywel ruled Dehuebarth, probably with his brother, Clydog, (who may have been the younger brother) after the death of their father in c.911. He, his brother, and his cousin, Idwal of Gwynedd, submitted to the English king, Edward the Elder in the late 910s.
‘and the kings of Wales: Hywel and Clydog and Idwal and all the race of the Welsh, sought him as their lord [Edward]’. ASC A 922 corrected to 918 (Swanton, M. trans and edit The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles, (Orion Publishing Group, 2000)p.103-4)
Not long after, Clydog died, leaving Hywel as ruler of Dehuebarth. Hywel had also married Elen, the daughter of Llywarch and niece of Rhydderch, the last king of Dyfed, and he was able to use this alliance to eventually claim Dyfed as well.
Hywel’s believed to have been highly educated, and some historians suggest he was particularly fascinated with King Alfred, and all he’d achieved and was therefore keen to emulate many of his actions. This could also be why his name came to be associated with the codification of laws in later traditions. What fascinates me most about Hywel is his decision to ally closely with King Athelstan which will be explored in King of Kings. Certainly, he is a intriguing figure in early tenth-century Britain, and not just because we know he made a pilgrimage to Rome in 928, and still managed to return back to his kingdom and continue ruling it.
MJ Porter 