Better Than Gold, by Theresa Tomlinson. Book review

A & C Black 2014. ISBN 978-1-4729-0782-0. 124 pages.

Better Than Gold is set around 655 AD in Northumbria (in what is now north-east England) and Mercia (in what is now the Midlands). The main character, Egfrid, is a historical figure, and his time as a hostage at the royal court of Mercia is a historical event, although the details are not known. Other historical figures who feature as important characters in the novel include King Penda and Queen Cynewise of Mercia and their children, Egfrid’s father King Oswy of Bernicia and his queen Eanflaeda, Egfrid’s cousin Ethelwold and the Christian monk Chad (later St Chad, if I have identified him correctly).

Egfrid, son of the King of Bernicia, is aged ten when he is taken hostage by Penda, King of Mercia, in a raid. Mercia and Bernicia are bitter enemies; Penda has previously slaughtered Egfrid’s paternal uncle and his maternal grandfather and uncle. Egfrid’s father Oswy has so far escaped a similar fate by avoiding battle, which leads Penda to despise him as a coward. Unlike the Christian kings of Bernicia, Penda is a pagan and his religion practices human sacrifice, so when Egfrid is captured he fears the worst. But his courage and loyalty to his nursemaid and tutor, both captured with him, earns him Penda’s respect. He finds himself treated with honour and even kindness, particularly by Penda’s queen Cynewise, who is working to weave a peace treaty between the kingdoms. But when the old feud breaks out into war once more, Egfrid is faced with a dilemma – whose side should he be on?

I enjoyed Theresa Tomlinson’s mystery novels, Wolf Girl for young adult readers (review here) and A Swarming of Bees for adults (review here), both set in the Northumbrian royal abbey at Whitby in the seventh century, and her novel about Acha of Deira set in the late sixth century, The Tribute Bride (review here). Better Than Gold is a children’s book set a few years earlier than Wolf Girl or A Swarming of Bees.

Part of the inspiration for Better Than Gold was the discovery of the Staffordshire Hoard near Hammerwich in the territory of the old kingdom of Mercia in 2009. This is the largest collection of early English (Anglo-Saxon) precious metalwork ever found, and consists almost entirely of gold and silver objects associated with military equipment, for example the decorative fittings from sword hilts and fragments of at least one helmet. For details of the Staffordshire Hoard, see the official website. This overwhelming focus on martial items is extremely unusual, as most Anglo-Saxon precious metalwork consists of dress fittings such as strap-ends, buckles and brooches, or luxury tableware such as plates or cups, and immediately suggests that there ought to be a dramatic story behind the Staffordshire Hoard. How might it have been assembled, who owned it, what did it signify, why are the items almost all military, who might have buried it, and why might it have been buried and never recovered?  (For a discussion, see my blog post at the time and the associated comments thread). We will probably never know the answers for sure. In Better Than Gold, Theresa Tomlinson has drawn on an episode recorded in Bede’s History and the rather enigmatic Restoration of Iudeu mentioned in Historia Brittonum to imagine a scenario that might lie behind the hoard.

Better Than Gold also imagines how life might have been for a ten-year-old noble boy in the society that produced the Staffordshire Hoard. What would a boy at a royal court eat and wear, what would he be expected to learn, how would he spend his time? This focus on the details of daily life was one of the features I liked about The Tribute Bride and A Swarming of Bees, and it was pleasant to see it again here.

Better Than Gold has the same gentle tone as The Tribute Bride and A Swarming of Bees. Most of the people, most of the time, treat each other decently. There is violence – human sacrifice and battles with many casualties – but because of Egfrid’s age he is rarely directly involved and most of the violence happens in the background. Like the author’s other books, the women are very much to the fore. Queen Cynewise has much authority at the Mercian court, ruling the kingdom while Penda is away on campaign and exercising considerable influence when he is back. Their rule of Mercia seems to be very much a joint enterprise. Like Acha in The Tribute Bride, the royal women in Better Than Gold play a crucial role as peaceweavers, both by formal marriage alliance and in the day-to-day management of court life, ever alert to the need to head off situations where drink and ego threaten to spark conflict and even war.

Better Than Gold is a much simpler and shorter story than the young adult mystery Wolf Girl. I’d estimate its length at around 20,000–25,000 words, roughly a quarter of the length of a ‘standard’ adult novel. I would guess it is aimed at a younger audience, perhaps about the same age as the ten-year-old protagonist. The complex political rivalries and feuds between the various kingdoms are seen mainly in family terms – appropriately, since the conventions of blood-feud and vengeance for a kinsman meant that early English warfare could have a personal as well as a political dimension. It’s clearly written in straightforward modern English, with some archaic terms to add a period flavour, such as the Old English names for the months (Blood-month, Offerings-month, etc. More information on the Old English calendar and the month-names can be found in my article here). I was pleased to see that the original Old English personal names have been kept, e.g. Egfrid, Cynewise. Some names have been replaced by nicknames to avoid potential confusion between similar names within a family, e.g. Egfrid’s dead uncle Oswald is referred to by his (historically documented) nickname of Whiteblade to avoid confusion with his brother Oswy.

A short Author’s Note at the end briefly outlines some of the underlying history and provides a link to learn more about the Staffordshire Hoard. Unfortunately there’s no map on which a reader could follow Egfrid’s travels, although as most of the place names are given in their modern forms (Bamburgh rather than Bebbanburgh, Tamworth rather than Tameworthig) they could be identified on a modern map.

Charming tale about life at the royal courts of seventh-century England and the sort of events that might lie behind the burial of the magnificent Staffordshire Hoard.

The Tribute Bride, by Theresa Tomlinson. Book review

Acorn Digital Press, 2014. ISBN 978-1-909122-63-5. 261 pages.

The Tribute Bride is set at the beginning of the seventh century AD in Deira and Bernicia, the two kingdoms that later became Northumbria in what is now north-east England. The central character, Acha, is a historical figure, as are her husband Athelfrid, her father Aelle and brother Edwin, the Deiran chief priest Coifi and Athelfrid’s queen Bebba. Other main characters are fictional.

Disclosure: Seventh-century Britain is an area of particular interest to me, and my own novel Paths of Exile has the same setting and includes some of the same characters as The Tribute Bride. Theresa and I had several email discussions about the possible life and career of the historical Acha, who is recorded in just one line in Bede’s History. 

Acha is the daughter of Aelle, the ageing king of Deira, and has just reached marriageable age when severe flooding destroys most of the harvest. Aelle cannot pay the tribute of grain to his overlord, the fearsome Athelfrid of Bernicia, so he sends Acha instead. Athelfrid already has a queen, the magnificent Bebba of the Picts, but they have no living child and Athelfrid wants an heir for his ever-expanding empire. He accepts Acha as a secondary wife – officially married to Athelfrid, but not his queen – and soon she is pregnant with his child. But how will Bebba react to a younger, fertile rival? And does the ruthless and cunning Athelfrid plan to obtain more from Acha than a child?

I very much enjoyed Theresa Tomlinson’s mystery novels, Wolf Girl (for young adult readers) and A Swarming of Bees (for adults), both set in the Northumbrian royal abbey at Whitby. The Tribute Bride is set half a century earlier, when the later kingdom of Northumbria was still two separate kingdoms, each with its own dynasty. Acha’s life bridged both dynasties. What role she played in combining the two kingdoms (if any), is not known – which is what historical fiction is for. I summarised what is known about the historical Acha (not very much), in an earlier article Acha of Deira and Bernicia: daughter, sister, wife and mother of kings. So I was very pleased to see a novel devoted to her.

Considering that The Tribute Bride features murder, betrayal, war and massacre, it is a surprisingly gentle read. Most of it is told through the eyes of Acha, who is still only a girl at the beginning of the novel – mid-teens, I would guess – and has a sunny-natured tendency to think the best of people and to make the best of any situation. Her generous and open-hearted character helps her to find unexpected friendships in Bernicia, friendships that stand her in good stead in the long term. However, it also means that she is largely oblivious to the darker undercurrents of court life. Indeed, the older and wiser Bebba tries to warn Acha that Athelfrid is not nicknamed ‘The Trickster’ for nothing and that Acha should be wary of his intentions, but Acha does not understand the warning until it is too late. Even when the worst has happened, Acha’s determination to make the best of things probably contributes a lot to making the consequences of Athelfrid’s actions much less adverse than they might otherwise have been.

Peaceweaver brides like Acha, married to their families’ rivals and enemies, must have had to do a lot of smoothing down of conflicts if they were to be successful. This perhaps explains why The Tribute Bride was so much more placid than I had expected for a novel set at the heart of early medieval court life; the whole focus of the book is about defusing and preventing conflict.

Athelfrid’s historical nickname Flesaurs, usually translated as ‘The Twister’ or ‘The Artful’ is here rendered as ‘The Trickster’ and cleverly linked with the deceitful thief-god Loki. Whether the early English had an equivalent of the Norse god Loki is unknown, but equivalents of some of the Norse gods are recorded in Old English place names, so it seems not implausible that other characters from the Norse pantheon may also have had early English counterparts.

The main characters are all women – Acha herself, Bebba, the elderly midwife, Acha’s maids. I particularly liked the relationship between Acha and Bebba, which develops in an unexpected direction. The male characters tend to be secondary, even Athelfrid (perhaps because Acha at first does not know him very well and then later does not wish to). The preponderance of strong female characters was similar in Wolf Girl and A Swarming of Bees. It makes for a domestic focus, with plenty of detail of buildings, travel, food and textile crafts. The variety of languages, cultures and religions among the plethora of small kingdoms is well captured.

A map and glossary of place names at the front are useful to follow the geography, and a character list at the front may be helpful to readers unfamiliar with the period. An Author’s Note and reference list at the back outlines the underlying history and source material (I am flattered to see that I get a mention).

Gentle tale of kindness and friendships found in unexpected places, set against the background of early seventh-century Northumbria.

A Swarming of Bees, by Theresa Tomlinson. Book review

Acorn Digital Press, 2012. ISBN 978-1-909122-22-2. 271 pages

A Swarming of Bees is a historical mystery set in and around the monastery of Streonshalh (modern Whitby) in seventh-century Northumbria. Abbess Hild and the poet Caedmon are historical figures and major characters, and other historical figures including King Oswy of Northumbria, Bishop Wilfrid, Aldfrith of Northumbria and Dagobert II of Merovingian France appear in secondary roles. The central character, Fridgyth, is mentioned by Bede but little more than her name is recorded. Other main characters are fictional.

In 664 AD, as the great Synod held at Streonshalh (Whitby) draws to its close, two young scholars arrive secretly from Ireland, fleeing an unspecified danger and seeking protection from Abbess Hild. Fridgyth, the abbey herb-wife, gives them shelter. When she deduces the identity of one of the boys, she guesses what the danger might be, but soon all her attention is claimed by tending the sick as an epidemic of plague sweeps through the monastery and its surroundings. As the disease rages and the death toll mounts, Fridgyth comes to suspect that not all the deaths are natural. Is there a murderer at work in the monastery?  And can Fridgyth find out who it is in time to prevent further deaths?

Regular readers may remember that some years ago I read and greatly enjoyed Theresa Tomlinson’s young adult mystery set in Hild’s monastery at Whitby, Wolf Girl (reviewed here earlier).  So I was delighted to hear about this new mystery in the same setting.  A Swarming of Bees takes place a year or so after Wolf Girl and features some of the same characters, but it is a stand-alone novel.  There is no need to have read Wolf Girl first.

I wasn’t disappointed. If anything, I think I liked A Swarming of Bees  even better than Wolf Girl. Hild’s seventh-century monastery at Whitby is vividly portrayed as a working community at the hub of a functioning economy. Managing the resources required to maintain a year-round supply of food, clothing and fuel for a sizeable monastery, not to mention the specialist supplies needed for producing illuminated manuscripts, was not a trivial task. Commodities and services could not just be ordered in; for the most part anything the community needed would have to be made or grown locally, and people with a wide range of skills would be needed to keep the monastery working.  Anyone who imagines a seventh-century abbess leading a life of pious contemplation is wide of the mark. In modern terms the role was probably closer to managing director of a sizeable group of companies. Vegetable growing, livestock rearing, weaving and boat-building all form part of the background, and are just as important as prayer, study and manuscript writing.

Abbess Hild, managing all this day-to-day and also overseeing an international centre of learning that was a university of its day, is as capable and forceful as I always imagined her. Fridgyth, the herb-wife, is a similar age to Hild, and the two women are close friends, despite their differences in social rank and religion. Fridgyth was raised as a heathen and has only half-converted to Christianity, still retaining many of the older beliefs and customs. This is entirely plausible, as the Northumbrian aristocracy had officially converted less than 40 years before, and it may have taken some time for Christian beliefs to percolate the whole of early English society. Hild’s tolerance of her friend’s customs, as well as being a sympathetic trait, is also in line with Bishop Aidan’s softly-softly approach to converting Northumbria, and with Pope Gregory’s advice to his Roman missionaries.  Caedmon, who appears in Bede as a shy herdsman who became a great vernacular poet, is another major character, with an intriguing take on Bede’s tale of how his poetic talent was recognised.

The mystery is ingenious – I sort of guessed part of the answer early on (as I recognised one of the symptoms from distant days studying chemistry), but I did not guess how, who or why in advance.  I also liked the presence of historical figures from Ireland and Merovingian France in the tale, cleverly picking up on known connections of the Northumbrian royal house. The description of the plague as it devastates families and communities (a historical event, although the nature of the disease is uncertain) was especially evocative. Life was fragile, even in time of peace.

I particularly liked the character of Fridgyth. With her warmth, humanity, honesty, practical common sense and experience of real life, she is an attractive and sympathetic character. Not without flaws; her forthright approach to investigation and hasty actions precipitate at least one crisis, and she is not immune from professional jealousy. She gives the whole book a warm-hearted feeling; life may be harsh, but it does not have to be miserable.

A helpful Author’s Note at the back outlines the underlying history and the fiction woven in the gaps, and a list of historical characters may also be helpful for readers unfamiliar with the period.  There is a useful map at the front showing the layout of Streonshalh monastery as imagined in the novel.

Beautifully written, gentle historical mystery set in Hild’s seventh-century monastery at Whitby, with strong characterisation and a clear sense of time and place.