His Munificence King Æthelstan here. Aka Guthrum Rex, Ruler of all Anglia (East), Lord of the Sea (North), Prince of Denmark (disputed). Whose wisdom cannot be measured. Whose courage is commensurate with the circumstances.

But I hate formality. Just call me King.

Sadly, titles get you nowhere nowadays. It's all about your personal brand innit. You can't just *be* something, you gotta sell it, you get me.

That's why Squire Derek called me into the Nub News office the other day. Reckons I need to come up with some 'taglines'. Part of 'raising my profile', he says.

"We need short, sharp, punchy summaries of what you are all about", he said. "Not a saga, not epic verse. This is the age of the sound-bite and the hashtag. Tik-Tok and Insta. MySpace and Friends Re-united."

'Workshopping' he called it.

Well, I gave it a go: "How about: Once sword I wielded, now 'neath sward concealed-ed."

Nailed it.

There was an awkward silence. Squire Derek said it needed 'more punch, less poetry'.

"Ok. What about: Guthrum: putting the king back into Rickinghall", I said. "The raid into Raydon. The fjord into Stratford St Mary. You get me?"

I was on a roll.

"Putting the axe into Saxmundham. The ale into Dedham Vale. The Thor into Thorpeness…"

I trailed off, at a loss. "Any other places we can do this with?"

"Assington?" muttered Squire Derek.

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