The Last Kingdom recap: series two finale – everyone has blood on their hands now

What a tense, tragic ending to a sensational series. Let’s take a moment to weep and raise a glass of mead to the fallen

This blog is for those who have watched the eighth episode of series two of The Last Kingdom. Please try to avoid posting book spoilers in the comments.

Excuse me a moment while I pour out a glass of mead for those we have lost. To Erik and Odda and Sigefrid and Clapa, four men who died in very different ways but each of them bravely. This has been an excellent second series, despite the occasional pacing issue that comes from adapting two books over eight episodes, and the final episode was the best yet: a tense, melancholy look at the real cost of forging a nation. It pitted brother against brother and friend against friend, repeatedly reminding us that no kingdom is built without sacrifice and no king, however noble, rules without blood on his hands. As for our hero, Uhtred, son of Uhtred – warrior, wooer and wearer of excellent eye makeup – he ended the episode no closer to achieving his destiny than he began it. The weary look on Alexander Dreymon’s face when Uhtred realised he now had not one but two oaths to honour was worth a prize all of its own.

‘What binds a man to his land? What power within allows him to give his life to preserve his land and the lives of the families who work? It can only be love.’

That simple question posed by Father Pyrlig at the start of the episode was sadly answered by Uhtred at the end. The man in question was Odda the Elder, the councillor who had so faithfully served first the old king and then the new. The man who killed his own son for Wessex and Alfred’s dream of England – and yet who now found himself thinking the unthinkable. Odda’s decision to raise his fyrd of Devonshire was born of his love for Wessex and his understanding that nothing less than open rebellion would force Alfred to march on Beamfleot. Was he a traitor, as Alfred claimed? Yes, in that he openly disobeyed his king, but Uhtred had it right too: he was also the man who “gave his life to save the lives of many”. In doing so he saved a kingdom, and a king.

‘A country is its history, the sum of all its stories … would you have me leave my descendants the shameful tale of how a princess of Wessex was whored?’

Alfred’s decision was understandable as well. He might have claimed to Aethelwold that every decision he made was in the name of Wessex, but he was ultimately a father, with a father’s desperation to save his child. Should he, as Odda suggested, have allowed Aethelflaed to die a martyr? That would have been the pragmatic choice but also the short-term answer, as her death would have lost him Mercia and thus his dream of one nation. Yet Odda was correct that he couldn’t simply keep paying the Danes in gold and the blood of the men and women of Wessex. It was an impossible conundrum, and one that David Dawson played beautifully, allowing us to see each tortured working of Alfred’s mind. Ultimately every good chess match requires a sacrifice, and if Uhtred is Alfred’s knight able to jump sideways to save his captured queen and Clapa the solid castle, cut down while fighting in straight lines, so Odda played the role of bishop, moving diagonally to take everyone by surprise even though he knew the move would almost certainly end in his death.

‘You, you did this. You have killed us both.’

Things weren’t much better in the Viking camp, where Erik’s love for Aethelflaed had upset his generally outraged brother Sigefrid, who promptly decided to cage the young princess before demanding that his brother stop mooning around like a love-sick teen and remember that he was the man who came up with their master plan. He did have a point – albeit a violent, ill-thought-through one. Unfortunately Erik, bewitched both by Aethelflaed’s beauty and her ability to read, had had his head thoroughly turned. Uhtred’s arrival to save the day only made matters worse, despite some clever battle tactics (and the sacrifice of another pawn: the poor Saxon girl who rode for her life pretending to be Aethelflaed and who was no doubt hacked to death by Haesten after he discovered the truth). In the end Sigefrid was right: Erik’s decision meant death for both of them. Sigefrid could not afford to let his brother escape with his Saxon princess, but Erik was not prepared to give up his dream of love. The resulting hand-to-hand combat was as inevitable as it was sad, and ended in Erik’s death and a grief-stricken Sigefrid’s suicidal charge against Alfred and Odda’s men. When death came for the remaining brother, though, it was not at the end of Uhtred’s sword or Alfred’s but at the furious hand of Aethelflaed – a warrior princess who promises to be quite something as a queen.

Additional notes

The look on Aethelred’s weaselly face at the end of the battle suggested a man who was wondering if his wife might one day stab him through the heart with a sword as well.

Given Aethelflaed’s hint to Uhtred at the episode’s end, that day might come soon rather than later.

The battle scenes on this show have been consistently excellent and tonight’s was no exception, with a dazed Uhtred staggering through the mess of dying men and calling for Sigefrid with a mouth full of blood.

I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of one of Uhtred’s telling offs – poor Osferth looked like he could have crawled all the way back to his monastery in shame.

Alfred might have been playing his own tactical game, but there was no doubting Aelswith’s anguish. For all the talk about Aethelflaed as a symbol of Wessex, I doubt she’d have spoken to Alfred again had her daughter died.

Aethelwold continues to play his own game, this week helping Odda raise the fyrd and giving him the weapon with which to commit suicide. Is Alfred really right to dismiss him as no threat?

This has been a beautifully acted series and tonight’s episode was particularly strong with special plaudits to David Dawson and Simon Kunz, who made Alfred and Odda’s stand-off heartbreaking.

Millie Brady and Christian Hillborg were excellent too as the lovers also known as Aethelrick (with thanks to Hillborg who named them that).

Finally, a big thank you to everyone who has posted here – you’ve all been wonderful (and wonderfully entertaining). Now let’s borrow some of Father Beocca’s faith and hope that the powers above see fit to grant a third series ...

Violence count

One knife pulled on Father Pyrlig, the caging of Aethelflaed, several Saxons captured and abused, several Danish guards brutally dispatched, fire and death in Beamfleot, the probable death of Aethelflaed’s decoy given what we know of horrible Haesten, the tragic death of Erik, the sadly inevitable but satisfying death of Sigefrid, the emotional end of poor brave Clapa and Odda’s suicide – an event which just about finished me.

Quote of the week

“He is my friend … and a traitor.” Alfred cuts to the heart of the matter and makes me weep at the same time.

So what did you think? Was it a satisfying ending? Who was right – Alfred or Odda? Would either plan have worked had it not been for Uhtred? And if you were Aethelred would you be able to sleep comfortably at night? As ever all speculation and no spoilers welcome below …

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