"So swear I."
Canute gave no indication of his annoyance at having to listen to the endless parade of nobles swearing their fealty to him. As a conquering king, paranoia was a deserved trait and he himself had carved out the runes hidden within the Bible they were swearing upon-SVORET MENED.
As each successive earl, baron or duke proclaimed their allegiance he had quickly noted that more of the nobles dissembled then spoke truthfully.
Perhaps, in retrospect, he should have used additional runes in order to reveal the truly faithless instead of simply revealing to him who swore themselves to minor perjury.
'At least I know which of them I can trust.'
Those were rare.
'But still extremely valuable to know...'
And yet it was so often the information you thought was truth that got you killed, there was always that.
Paranoia is a valuable virtue for a king, as long as fear isn't the ultimate ruler.
"My Lord, I present you the Danegeld from Mercia!" Earl Eadric positively simpered as one of his servants brought forward a small chest.
A murmur was heard throughout the court as the paltry offering was seen. To offer such a pittance was an indignity that must be answered and the crowd grew silent as they waited to see what reaction would be forthcoming.
Eadric waited for the murmur to swell and die down before he produced a small stick and waved it elegantly in the air, "Engorgio!"
As the wand was produced two of his guards started to step forward with their staffs gripped firmly in hand. Canute, however, waved them off with an air of nonchalance even as he quietly activated the runes within his belt-SKJOLDR SVALE.
Canute refused to believe that the wand would ever be able to compete with a good staff, it was simply another fad that would die out in a few years.
Where the small chest had been, a much larger chest was revealed. Eadric waited for the crowd to react once again to his theatrics before he swept forward and threw back the lid of the chest to reveal enough gold to buy a small nation.
"Your tribute, my Lord!"
Indeed, it was enough gold to buy a small nation-for it had and would once again.
Of course, Eadric had been very careful to employ only Norse (technically Norwegian, courtesy of Olaf Haraldsson, but his idiotic peasants and priests wouldn't know the difference) tax collectors who had taken half again as much in taxes while being quite vocal about collecting for the Danish invaders.
If, in another year or two, Olaf wished to march on the Danes, Eadric was sure he could muster a large enough army against the interloper to oust the Danes out of Mercia and even Wessex while he was occupied back home. Eadric, King of England had a wondrous sound to it.
Eadric hid his scorn as the Danes persisted on using those thuggish staves with their barbaric runes. Had he stayed by Edmund's side they would never have stood a chance against him. He had been taught by Salazar Slytherin himself! Not to mention the other three. No, he could likely have routed the Danish wizards by himself had he needed to.
Sadly there were too many heirs between himself and the throne at the time.
But once Edmund was dead and a foreigner was on the throne…
Once he became the saviour of Britain rather than a mere Earl of Mercia...
In the meantime, "Your tribute, my Lord!"
"For you who on the oceans ride, twixt heaven, earth and sea, call forth the waves and mighty tide-To you we all must stir. For you who with one hurled word, twixt heaven, earth and sea, leave armies rent upon your sword-To you we must defer."
Eadric swept his robe back as he bowed elegantly over his box of gold.
"Truly, I daresay you could actually hold back the tide with your power if you so chose my Lord. Ours is but a drop in the ocean compared to yours."
Canute watched as the man preened before the assembled audience. He flourished that little stick of his around like a…
'Like a courtier with his mistresses…'
To be fair, there were two kinds of noblemen, but this one had avoided battle at every opportunity he could find. He hadn't even had to pay the Mercian cock to betray his former king.
No doubt the man thought he was a genius but for all his little parlour tricks, he never noticed the runes woven into Canute's coat of arms-HRAFNAR FRETTIR.
In any case, Canute had sadly never wrestled with such an incompetent manipulator. The man had literally abandoned his king on the field of battle. He had stolen from the churches within his own Earldom. He had blatantly used Canute's enemies, individuals he had already had his raven watching, to do his bidding.
And now the man thought he could maneuver Canute with mere flattery to appear proud, incompetent or both before his kingdom.
"Command the tide? Indeed, that would show my power!" He gave the appearance of thought, "I have been too long away from the sea, tomorrow we shall journey there and see what we shall see."
Eadric could hardly contain his glee as the large entourage of nobleman journeyed to the sea.
Not even he could stop the tide from coming in, there was no way a Dane with a mere staff could do so!
Canute steadfastly marched to the prelude of his own doom as he walked, staff in hand, and conversed with several bishops.
Why anyone would be afraid of him was beyond his understanding. The 'Northmen' were supposed to be dreaded warriors and sorcerers, taking whatever they wanted wherever there was a sea or river to sail on. But there he was, walking with churchmen while discussing laws to prevent noblemen from taking whatever land they wanted. He asked about theology and beliefs and inquired about any grievances they might have.
But the man also showed his immense pride as several soldiers carried an ornate throne in the back of the entourage. Not to mention he didn't seem worried in the least about the upcoming task, as if he truly thought he could stop the tide… but that simply wasn't possible!
Was it?
Canute made good use of his time, insuring his patronage of the church to the few priests who accompanied him. It was amazing how quickly a king could fall or rise based on the Christian Church. The general populace relied on the fathers and friars for how they should react, excepting direct interference from the noblemen, while the bishops mingled with said noblemen and often dictated who would eventually remain king.
And a little gold or a gifted relic did wonders to help them forget such things as, say, being a sorcerer or having two wives… After all, he was consistently repentant of his sins afterwards.
He smiled as they arrived at the coast, it had been a bit of an interruption to travel so far, but he was a Dane and the sea was always a welcome sight.
'And the exhibition I intend to put on will likely prove quite profitable.' A wolfish smile crept onto his face briefly before he banished it, 'And fun.'
They'd arrived at low tide, exactly as planned.
"Set my throne there, just above the water. Eadric, a man as loyal as you should be standing by my side when I command the tide to stop!"
Eadric smiled and bowed, "They will speak of this day a thousand years from now!"
"Oh, you can be quite sure of it."
Canute sat on his throne and waited.
"My Lo…"
"Silence please."
He waited unmoving and with only the sound of surf and seabird for accompaniment for the next mark as he waited for the tide to slowly creep towards his feet-it was actually quite pleasant.
All the more so for the clear agitation he felt from his right as the entire company waited in complete silence.
Just as the first waves started to lap up towards his toes, he stood and placed his staff in front of him, "Vatnstans!"
The cool water spread over his toes as it made its inexorable march up the beach.
"My Lord,"
Canute simply turned towards Eadric and the man's silky voice stopped as he took in the visage of his king.
"Yes, Your liege lord. You are right in calling me that."
"You fear both man and God yet show no honour to either. You, who steal from God. You, who betrays his own king for simple wealth and renown. You, of all people, should indeed fear both God and man. Now we shall see if you, with all your flattering and deceitful words, can stop the rising tide."
He gripped his staff with power and commanded it, "Tilkalde!"
Eadric's wand flew from its sheath.
"Senda!" The wand shot away with barely a splash.
He took off his crown and gently placed it over a crucifix behind him.
"Man must fear that which has more power than they but should they also respect it, it may also respect them."
Canute allowed himself a single moment of pleasure before he turned a deaf ear as his men buried Eadric in the sand to his neck and waited for the tide to rise.
A/N: This story takes place in 1016-1017. For reference, Hogwarts was founded in 990 while the Statute of Secrecy wasn't ratified until 1692.
I've always said I wanted more stories like this one and I didn't have work tonight so I spent the 6-7 hours writing this short story instead. I just wish that some of the better authors here would create some epic lengths for various times and places throughout history. (Send me a message if you know of some, eh?)
... Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling ...