The Chalice

Cynethrith, the heroine of Courting Trouble, is visiting the abbey her mother founded. As Christianity was taking root in Anglo Saxon England, rich patrons demonstrated their piety by establishing abbeys and furnishing them with treasures and relics. Cynethrith describes what she sees. 

The altar, covered with a gold-embroidered frontal, held a silver and gold chalice [my mother] had commissioned in East Anglia: around its rim fantastic birds interlaced so cleverly that you could hardly tell where one began and the other ended. Her father had bought the imposing altar cross of gold and precious stones from a Byzantine trader. In its center a tiny vial contained a drop of St. Etheldreda’s blood. My eye came back to the chancel arch—its grappling angels and demons carved by a sculptor my mother had brought in from Kent—then was pulled to the center of the choir where, in darkness beneath the floor, lay my mother.

The Warriors Enter Winchester

In Anglo-Saxon times the king fought in the summer and over-wintered in one of his castles, which were located in the important towns of his kingdom. This excerpt from Courting Trouble describes the royal procession as it enters the town of Winchester in 801. Here's how the narrator, who is standing among the gawking townspeople, describes the part of the procession made up of warriors.

Our attention was diverted by the arrival of about forty armed warriors. They were a fearsome looking bunch. Most carried spears that were taller than a man, and all had swords a yard long encased in scabbards at their sides. Some wore the scramasax, the dagger that gave us our name, around their necks. They used to smear these with poison in the old days but they’re not used so much anymore. The warriors were clad in steel like the man I had seen in the forest. A few wore helmets—these ingenious devices extended down over their foreheads in front and ended with built-in eyebrows and nose guards. I spotted one man with a complete face mask: only his eyes were uncovered. 

The men carried broad round wooden shields with decorated iron bosses in the middle. I noticed one huge warrior whose front teeth were missing. His shield was covered with deerskin and had an iron bar across it. The dome of his boss came to a cruel looking point and had probably poked out more than one man’s eye.

Anglo Saxons and Love

The novel Courting Trouble is set in the early days of the Anglo Saxon era. At this time, Christianity was relatively new for the group, and customs were still influenced by their early pagan culture. In this scene, Cynethrith wants to foil what she believes is her stepmother's plan to send the girl to a convent and keep her inheritance. Cynethrith resolves to set out on an adventure, and justifies her decision by quoting an old Anglo Saxon poem.

I knew perfectly well that [my stepmother] was planning to ship me off to a convent as soon as she could without causing a lot of talk. In any event, I certainly wasn’t going to sit around and wait for her to arrange a match for me. As the ancient wisdom of our people advises:

Girls, steal secretly to your sweethearts
So no one says
That you were bought with booty.

But for the time being I went along with her pretense.

Food

Today's illustration  from Courting Trouble shows a cook stirring a pot over an open fire. There will be more about the kitchen and food in future posts, but for today I'll quote a few lines from the feast Cynethrith observes on her first night at court.

Each diner ate according to his station, with the best dishes and the greatest amount reserved for the head table. The hall servants dished out stew from the cauldron and placed one bowl between each foursome at the low tables. I carried in a large dish of two dozen young pigeons for a mid-ranking table, the birds culled before they learned to fly so their flesh was fat and succulent.

Hilda Recites Poetry

In the novel Courting Trouble Hilda is one of the heroine Cynethrith's stepsisters. In this scene Cynethrith has come across Hilda in their shared bedroom reciting a poem.

   “Listen,” she said, practically gasping for air. “Listen to this.”
     She began to recite an overwrought poem about a woman who had allowed herself to be seduced by a warrior who, after impregnating her, was nowhere to be found. Hilda had the most extraordinary memory. In fact, she was very smart, just not about anything useful. She paused at the end.
     “Wasn’t it beautiful?” she said in a whisper. Her blue eyes misted over.
     “It was remarkable,” I said. The poem had left me befuddled. The woman was deserted, no doubt about that, but otherwise I was lost. “Tell me something,” I asked. “Are Eric and Edward the same person or two different people?”
     “You didn’t understand it at all, did you?” she said. “You have all the higher qualities of a pygmy shrew.”

On a different topic, the March 2019 Itchen Valley News has an article about the influence my friends and neighbors in the Hampshire town of Easton had on the genesis of Courting Trouble.  

St. Rumwold the Infant Prodigy

Abbess Cynethrith and the Bishop are chatting in the opening scene of Courting Trouble.

“Abbess, do you remember blessed St. Rumwold, the infant prodigy?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Though he only lived on this earth three days, God gave him the gift of speech, and do you know what he preached about?”

“Yes,” I said.

“He preached about the most blessed and heavenly Trinity.”

“Yes,” I said. “I often wish the young would hold their tongues.” Because I’m old, I can get away with remarks like this. People think I didn’t understand what they said.

The Other Stepsister, Hilda

In the novel Courting Trouble, the villagers are planning to trick the King by pretending they are poor. They are hoping he won't demand too much from them. Cynethrith has been asked by the villagers to try to get her stepmother go along with the ruse.

“Right.[says her stepmother] That Osbert is getting too big for his britches. I don’t know why he wants us to look like a bunch of paupers. That won’t do much for our social standing, now will it?”
“Well, no, Mother,” I agreed, “but you might be a little richer at the end of the day.”
“And if no one knows I’m rich how will it help me get husbands for my daughters?” I looked at Wulfwaru and Hilda. “I understand your concern, Mother,” I said.
“Thank you very much,” said Hilda, whose eyeballs and front teeth competed to see which could protrude more. Her chin had conceded defeat and was trying to leave the field.

Meet Egbert

The heroine, who has climbed a tree looking for her lost dog, sees a strange encampment hidden in the forest. This is her first impression of Egbert, a character in Courting Trouble.

. . . a tall warrior stepped out. I don’t know what it was about him, but I think I stopped breathing. The servants went about their tasks with increased diligence. There was nothing soft about the man. His muscular frame was covered from shoulder to waist by a shirt made of shiny metal rings. Below that you could see the points of the leather shirt he wore beneath. He wore no helmet. The angles of his cheekbones seemed to provide their own protection. Were his eyes narrow, or was he squinting in the sun? The light glinted off the gold hilt of his sword, and I sensed danger in a primordial way, like a hare smelling a fox. I wondered how many women he had ravished, how many men he had killed.

A Visit to the Abbey

The novel's heroine, Cynethrith (pronounced KIN uh trith) visits an abbey to see her best friend, Athelflad (Ath el flad), a nun. An excerpt from the novel Courting Trouble.

I closed my eyes and inhaled the incense. One of the nuns was playing a lyre. She led the sisters in singing psalms. I opened my eyes and watched them. In the choir two groups of nuns faced each other, novices in front, the others on a step behind them. There were about thirty members of the order then, and all but one were at Nones that day. Their white faces gleamed in the candlelight. They seemed transported. They radiated a purity I found both admirable and totally alien.

I spotted Athelflad. She was second in from the altar. I found her voice reedy, but she loved to sing and was completely enthralled by the music. I shut my eyes again and prayed that an atheling would fall in love with me, preferably one who wouldn’t have any connection to King Beorhtric. When the service was over I waited for Athelflad outside the church. Her dark hazel eyes sparkled when she saw me.