The news of the defeat was temporarily concealed by the king, and that night a lame monk was taken to the Palace of Westminster.

As soon as this reclusive high-ranking hostage appeared, it caused whispers among the nobles of the court, even the Normandy, Flemish and Brittany nobles who were not familiar with the interior of the kingdom, and when they heard that this person was the eldest grandson of the Earl Godwin, they couldn't help but look at it a few more times.

"Brother Haakon, sit down before us." The king leaned out of his chair and did not get up, which he learned from Philip, that the king's prostrations and prostrations were a power game.

Haakon Svensen, who was carried by two Welsh attendants from the shoulders to the royal seat, looked old, although only five years older than the king himself, the middle-aged monk looked like the king's father, and this decrepit appearance made Edgar sigh in his heart.

Edgar had met Haakon in Westminster, when King Edward was terminally ill, and Haakon's uncle Harold Goldwinson took the opportunity to take control of the court, so Haakon, who had returned from Normandy, got rid of hostage for the first time and became the real young master of Westminster, but this young man always looked sullen, and he tried to live as simple as possible on weekdays, neither little Edgar nor his sister saw Haakon himself, Christina once told him that he had heard from a maid, Haakon's mother was a nun, and within two days the maid had disappeared from Westminster.

Later he learned that Haakon's mother was an abbot near Hereford, who had been snatched and defiled by Sven Godwinson, and King Edward was furious about this, and sent the heroine of the scandal back to the seminary, where she gave birth to the eldest grandson of Earl Godwin, and when Haakon was four years old, the old Earl Godwin sent the seeds of this evil to the royal palace as a hostage, and when Edgar's father returned, Haakon was still in Normandy, and his exiled father, Sven, had died in the Holy Land, supposedly by the Saracens.

Edgar did not want to torture the monk with a miserable background, but this did not prevent the other English nobles from admiring a down-and-out Godwin, and the Mercians and Northumbrians present looked at the lifeless cripple with happy eyes, many of whom had relatives and friends who had died in the civil war between Tostig and Harold, and the Mercians had been allies of the Welshmen of Gwynness, whose people had been slaughtered by Godwin's army on the battlefield of Hereford, and who had to appease the Earl of Harold through marriage.

In the midst of many unscrupulous eyes, Wolfstein, the Archbishop of Canterbury, first presented Haakon with a gift to the king, a thin leather armor, said to be made of reindeer leather from the Finnish region, with Sami magic and the ability to resist spears and axes.

As if the shabby gift did not dissipate the king's enthusiasm, Edgar immediately announced that the land north of Hereford would be given to Haakon, the son of Sven, to build a monastery there and manage a large estate on the banks of the Lugar River.

This sudden generosity was evidently astonishing, and Brother Haakon's shaved cheeks became chalky, and he waved his hand like a drowning man, trying to make a gesture of resignation.

Edgar stopped the Count of Northumbria, who was about to speak, and asked Bishop Woolfstein to appease Haakon himself, the poor man was already coughing with excitement, and the king was a little afraid that something would happen to him on the spot, so he called ten more trained doctors.

"Master Volsioff, come with me." After the feast, Edgar summoned the Count of Northumbria in a very low voice.

As soon as he entered the inner chamber, the Count of Northumbria began to protest: "How can Your Majesty trust the descendants of traitors!" ”

"Elfwin, give this letter to Lord Earl."

After hearing the contents of Rodrigo's letter, the Count of Northumbria also began to sweat on his forehead: "This...... It's ......"

"The Normans were the fastest, four hundred and sixty horsemen, and returned more than half of them, but they lost their duke......" the king's words carried a hint of mockery, "Herman's Luxembourgers were all taken prisoner, and then the Danes suffered the heaviest losses, and our Sain did not suffer much loss, but also threw away some equipment. ”

"Is His Royal Highness the Prince alright?" The Count cautiously probed.

"You have returned to Thuringia, and your son Uhtred is safe and sound, and is now in the army of Woolfnoth."

Vorsiov immediately understood the real reason for the scene just now, Woolfnoth, who was originally responsible for helping Bertold control the Saxon territory, accidentally controlled the crown prince, and at this time, in order to prevent accidents, it was also an inevitable choice to show grace. When the envoy arrived in the army, the Earl of Glamorgan would also understand the king's intentions.

"I should have listened to you in the first place, and didn't rush south." Edgar sighed, "It's a good thing that the Duke of Swabia doesn't have the skills of Ivar the Boneless, otherwise he would ......"

"Your Majesty doesn't have to worry too much, with Lord Rodrigo here, there will be no accidents, but the King of Denmark still has to compensate more." The earl couldn't help but remind him that the attitude of the Roskild court was the key to the Saxon War, and the original intention of changing his original intention and sending troops south was also because of the mysterious death of Henry IV's empress, and the fire in the royal backyard, the king wanted to see if there was a hole to exploit, and now that the core of the emperor's party could not be completely broken for the time being, it was more advantageous for the kingdom to stabilize Saxony.

"Rest assured, King Eric won't mourn the fallen warriors too much." Edgar didn't intend to hide it from the Count, "His Yars have suffered heavy losses in the Black Forest this time, and they will probably be in peace for a while." ”

"Doesn't the King of Denmark care about his own reputation?" Vorsiov, a traditional Dane, was a little difficult to accept such a court conspiracy.

"Being ridiculed by one person and being ridiculed by a thousand people is the same for Eric, he is not like his brothers, he knows what is the most important thing, and if he can get the throne, he will not mind how much blood passes by the chariot when he enters the palace."

"If so, Your Majesty, then we still have the upper hand."

"As long as Harz's silver mines are in our hands for a day, Henry will not have enough resources to deal with his current enemies, not to mention that the number of his enemies is increasing every day."

"Is there any news from the Italians?"

"I heard that little Guspatrick has already arrived in Italy." The king abruptly shifted the subject, and at the same time raised his eyelids slightly, observing every muscle in the count's face.

"It should be about the same distance." Volsiov did his best to keep his tone unchanged, the king must have had his own spies in the Count's mission of Cumbria, and it was enough for him to act ignorant.

"He brought enough gold and silver with him to the Holy See, and the Holy See must know how to use the money, and then the crown prince is likely to officially switch sides, and once the Lombards and Tuscans are united, the emperor will have to deal with his son, and the main force of the empire will go south, which means that the Duke of Swabia is still surrounded by the armies of Welf and Zeringen."

"But the Count of Cumbria has no diplomatic experience, in case ......"

"The little lion always has to grow claws, he was a disciple of Ethelwyn, I hope he can also learn a little bit of the wisdom of the bishop, and when he returns from the East, we will give him a more suitable responsibility, I believe that old Master Guspatrick will not be too disappointed in us......"

The Count of Northumbria did not say a word, the son of this old comrade-in-arms almost became his son-in-law, and now he must not speak for him, although the king now looks like a vow, but who knows what the king thinks in his heart?

By the extinguished fireplace, two middle-aged northern warriors each tasted a different bitterness, the comradeship of their youth gradually faded, and the worries about the future always loomed over the monarch and the minister, and the foundation they created, from the Anthony Wall to the English Channel, south of the Tees River alone, with a population of 1.3 million and 30,000 armoured men, all of which will eventually be passed on to the next generation, but what will happen to the next generation?