Horstede: Setting the scene

My novel, Sons of the Wolf is mainly set in a village in East Sussex called Horstede. It was listed in the Domesday Book as being land held from the king by Wulfhere before 1066. Holding their lands from Wulfhere, were 9 villeins and 6 cottars. Between them they own 7 and a half ploughs with a team of 8 oxen each and 1 with a half team of 4. Now-a-days, it is little more than a hamlet just beyond Uckfield and called Little Horsted. Besides a single row of houses, a parish church and a school, there is also a Golf club and a hotel. Surrounding the place there are farms and  fields. There is even a roundabout called the Little Horsted roundabout but nothing much else is there.

 What made me choose this place for the setting of my book? I was inspired to write something after viewing the annual Battle of Hastings re-enactment back in 2004. I had been looking for a suitable subject to write about since I decided that I would fulfill my child hood dream and set about the mammoth task of writing an epic historical novel. I had worked on projects in the past but life events had served to drift me away from realising my dream. Eventually I lost my confidence and my aspiration did not return until I attended a college course for Health and Social care. Doing this course helped me to realise that I could still write.

 Having come across Helen Hollick's fantastic novel about Harold the King, I decided that another book written about Harold himself would need to be really well written and a master piece if I was to better hers. As it was my first attempt, I decided to keep it simple and I thought, why not tell the story of Hastings through the eyes of the ordinary men and women? That way I could still use the historical background and characters but centralise the story around a family whose experiences through the events of the 11thc I would be free to play with.

Eventually, the real inspiration for Sons came in the form of a different book. I found David Howarth's little gem 1066 The Year Of The Conquest  at a medieval fare. He tells the story of 1066 from the standpoint of a Sussex village. He chose Little Horsted as it was his own home and describes the holding as it was in the Domesday Book. I already had the basis of a story that I wanted to write, I just needed a character. I had thought to invent my own village and my own thegn but here was Wulfhere (Howarth calls him Ulfer, simply a different spelling) just waiting for me to find him.

Nothing is known about what sort of man Wulfhere was, what he did in his life and what the names of his family were. Things like that were not recorded for simple folk in those days. However, I hope that if he were alive today, he would not be offended by the life I created for him. Equally, Helghi of Gorde also was a man of the Domesday. Again I hope I would not offend him too much by my villainous portrayal of him. But this is a fictional interpretation and their story is my telling alone. I believe it is how life might have been for men and women of this time and although I have written this story from a 21st century point of view, I have tried to create an Anglo Saxon mind set and at the end of the day, these were people like you and I. They laughed, they cried, they loved and hated much like us, after all.

The Beginning: Wulfhere the Warrior

CHAPTER ONE

THE HOMECOMING 

Late Summer 1054

Wulfhere rode wearily through the great lush forest, once known to the ancient Britons and their Roman conquerors as Anderida. It was now called Andredeswald by the Englisc, descendants of the Southern Saxons who had come to these lands to settle in the dark days that followed the death of Rome. His companion Esegar, his shield bearer and right hand man rode beside him, half asleep in the saddle, eyes all but closed and his head nodding as he fought to stay awake. The horses too were tired, heads low, pace no more than a lumbering amble. Their destination was home, Horstede, in the heart of Sussex on the marshy slopes of a shallow valley. They’d been travelling many days along the ancient trackways, which for centuries had witnessed the various comings and goings of the many different peoples of these lands.  Wearing their armour so as not to unnecessarily encumber the pack horses, the feel of it against their skin was perhaps somewhat uncomfortable, but nonetheless familiar. It was a feeling they had got used to over the last few months, campaigning in the north.
Displaying the stern expression of a warrior, Wulfhere looked formidable to all who would have encountered him on the journey home. Beneath his gleaming helm, strands of sun-bleached hair blew in the cool breeze. The mail shirt that hugged his torso emphasised strong broad shoulders upon which was strapped his battle-scarred shield. The chips, dents and holes in its facing had been made by Scottish spear tips, a testimony to the recent bloody encounter with Macbeth’s army. Even the shield’s deadly metal boss had not escaped damage and was now crushed beyond repair. His sword, the most precious weapon he possessed, hung in a decorative scabbard secured to a leather belt worn around his waist. The pommel, inlaid with gold banding, rested against his upper thigh, the silver lobe at the end of the grip was impressively decorated with the figure of two intertwined wolves; it had been in his family for many years, handed down to first sons through the march of generations.  Its name, Hildbana, meaning battle slayer, was etched along the broad blade, for warriors were inclined to give their weapons such fierce names to enhance the reputations of their owners. For a fighting man, a sword or an axe was more than a battlefield tool; a sword was a companion, a lover, a life-giver and a death bringer. For Wulfhere, Hildbana was like an extension of himself, another limb into which his heart pumped his life’s blood.
            The men were returning home after more than two months of brutal campaigning with the Earl of Northumbria against the Scottish king, MacBeth. Although he had not been eager to travel so far north away from his family, Wulfhere accepted his duty with the unquestioning loyalty of a king’s faithful servant.            It had been a hard won battle with many lives lost on both sides. It was natural for a man such as Wulfhere to take up the mantle of warrior, for he came from a long line of such men. However nothing could have prepared him for the carnage that he had witnessed that day on Dunsinane Hill. Death in battle had not been a stranger to him, but never had he seen it on such a scale as this.
Wulfhere was proud of his ancestry, able to recite an abundance of tales about the prowess of his forefathers in battle, but despite his magnificent weapons and polished war attire, he was more a man of reasonable means than a man of great wealth and land holdings. He held roughly five hides of village and pastoral lands, the minimum amount a thegn might possess. It had been endowed to his ancestors by subsequent royal lines in return for both official and military services

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I am author of Sons of the Wolf, a work in progress, currently working on the last chapters. I enjoy history and specialise in the late Saxon period. Here is an overview of what my novel is about.

1054, pious King Edward sits on the throne, spending his days hunting, sleeping and praying, leaving the security and administration of his kingdom to his much more capable brother-in-law Harold Godwinson, the powerful Earl of Wessex.

Against this backdrop we meet Wulfhere, a Sussex thegn who, as the sun sets over the wild forest of Andredesweald, is returning home victoriously from a great battle in the north. Holding his lands directly from the King, his position demands loyalty to Edward himself, but Wulfhere is duty-bound to also serve Harold, a bond forged within Wulfhere’s family heritage and borne of the ancient Teutonic ideology of honour and loyalty.

Wulfhere is a man with the strength and courage of a bear, a warrior whose loyalty to his lord and king is unquestionable. He is also a man who holds his family dear and would do anything to protect them. So when Harold demands that he wed his daughter to the son of Helghi, his sworn enemy, Wulfhere has to find a way to save his daughter from a life of certain misery as the daughter-in-law of the cruel and resentful Helghi, without comprising his honour and loyalty to his lord, Harold.
Following the fortunes of his family, we meet Ealdgytha, his golden-haired wife, attractive, neurotic and proud. Her lust for success and advancement threatens to drive a wedge between her and her husband, while Wulfhere’s battle with his conscience and his love for another woman, tears at the very heart of their relationship. Also central to the story are his children; Freyda, his eldest daughter, reckless, defiant and beautiful; Tovi, his youngest son, his spirit suppressed by the pranks of the red-haired twins, Wulfric and Wulfwin; Winflaed, a younger daughter, whose submissive acceptance of womanhood belies a stronger spirit and a longing to hold a sword in battle like her warrior father.

Sons of the Wolf is snap shot of medieval life and politics as the events that lead to the downfall of Anglo-Saxon England play out, immersing the reader in the tapestry of life as it was before the Domesday Book. With depictions of everyday life experienced through the minds of the people of the times; of feasts in the Great Halls to battles fought in the countryside, it cannot help but enlighten, educate and entertain.