“It is true that men and women can choose to go against the teachings of the Lord. They can stray from the path of righteousness.” Leofstan hesitated, looking at me askance. “Do you think that is what you have done? Strayed from the path?”

I sighed, but said nothing.

“You are but a man, Hunlaf. Like any other. You must fight against the temptations that are laid before you. But with prayer, and God’s grace, you will prevail. If you are worried about your part in what happened this morning, I did not see a man giving in to the Devil.”

“You did not?” I grasped at his words like a floundering man, desperately hoping that they might pull me from the sea of my despair.

“No,” Leofstan said. “I saw a man using the sharp mind the Lord gave him to save his friends and avoid bloodshed. Though I have to admit,” he turned to me and raised an eyebrow, “for a time you surprised even me, and I know you better than most. I see now that you had to convince us all, and you played your part well. Though you are perhaps a little too good at dissimulating for my liking.” His smile broadened, and he patted me on the shoulder.

Behind Leofstan, on the far side of the ship, Runolf stood at the steerboard, his red hair swirling in the brisk breeze. He stared fixedly along the length of the ship. I was sure he had noticed me looking at him, but he determinedly ignored me, refusing to meet my gaze.

“Do not be concerned for what other men think of you,” Leofstan said, perhaps imagining the direction of my thoughts. “You alone must live with your actions. And if you are at peace with yourself and God, then others’ opinions are of no import.”

“Thank you,” I said. His words gladdened me and I felt some of the weight lifting from me. But I could not shake the doubt that lingered in my mind. Was it only what others thought of me that scratched at my soul? Or was it perhaps that I doubted my own motives? “How did you know that Ahmad could save Gwawrddur?” I asked, shifting the conversation away from me.

“I did not. But I am old enough to know that others have skills and knowledge I do not possess.”

“But he is a thrall.”

“He is a man,” Leofstan replied, his voice taking on a cold edge. “Like you and me. Ahmad may not be free, but his mind is unfettered. Remember, Aelfwyn is also a thrall somewhere out there.” He waved a hand eastward over the sea. “She is no less than she was before her capture.”

I pondered his words, but before I could answer, he stepped back, making way for Drosten, who had walked along the deck from his place in the Tack crew before the mast.