Ljósberari used the knife to skewer a ripe raspberry from a bowl on the table. He popped it into his mouth and chewed with relish. Despite myself, my stomach growled. We had not eaten for a long time and my body had not forgotten how ravenous I was, even if I did not wish to show weakness before this man. While bathing at the river, I had quenched my thirst with a few mouthfuls of water, but my stomach was yet hollow and painfully empty.

“You are hungry,” Ljósberari said, pushing the bowl towards me. Leofstan sat at my side. I glanced at the door, feeling exposed and vulnerable with my back to Chlotar. But the Frank had not moved. I looked down at the fruit for a long while, unsure of myself. Guilt scratched at me as I thought of Hereward, Runolf and the others with no water or food. “Eat. Eat,” Ljósberari said. At last, with a sigh, I took some of the berries.

The flesh was juicy and soft. I felt the strength returning to my limbs as the sweetness filled my mouth. Ljósberari watched me, unblinking. I sipped the wine. It was good. The warmth of the drink spread through me, lifting my morale, giving me courage.

“You did not answer my question,” I said. “Do you speak Englisc with Aelfwyn?”

“Perhaps,” he replied, waving his long-fingered hand airily. “Who can say? I speak to any who would listen. It is my duty to speak in whatever language best suits the listener, if I am able. God has blessed me with an ear for languages, and the word of truth must be heard by all.”

“Quid est veritas, paracletus?” asked Leofstan, in the language of old Roma.

Ljósberari clapped his hands in glee.

“Wonderful!” he replied. “Your Latin is excellent. You would know what truth is, I see. What jubilation I feel to hear you speak with such knowledge.” He leaned over the table conspiratorially and signalled for us to move closer. Hesitantly, we both bent towards him. “You know, Chlotar told me you came here to do me harm,” he whispered. “He said you were sent to kill me.” He stared into our faces in turn, perhaps searching for a sign of our guilt. I wondered then how much he knew or suspected, but I kept my expression impassive. “But no, quoth I. A bird told me that you were coming, you see? And I told Chlotar that you are men of the Lord and surely He has sent you here for another purpose. If it had been up to Chlotar, you would all be dead already. He does so loathe the people of these lands, you see.”

“Then why do we yet live?” asked Leofstan.

Ljósberari smiled.

“Firstly, because it was my wish to speak with you. I am not his master, but he does obey me as faithfully as a hound.”

“And secondly?”