Daegmund’s face grew scarlet, but he shook his head.

“Of course not, lord,” he managed in a strangled voice.

“Good,” said the king, clapping his hands together. “Then it is my wish that Runolf Ragnarsson be given what he needs to build his ship, that he teaches men in the craft, men who are loyal to me. And once the ship is built and seaworthy, it is my desire that Hunlaf of Werceworthe form a crew from such men as would be able and willing to sail the vessel, and together with Hereward, man of Uhtric, Lord of Bebbanburg, they travel in my name to the king of this land whose name I cannot pronounce.” Æthelred paused and there was a dutiful smattering of laughter. I noted that Daegmund did not join in. “And once in that land,” the king continued, “he will agree a treaty of trade and mutual peace and benefit betwixt our two kingdoms.”

The men around the king erupted in outrage at the sudden pronouncement. I turned to Hereward, who looked as shocked as everyone else by the king’s decision. Runolf slapped me on the back, making me stagger.

“Remember,” he said, “we need ropes, sails, pitch, iron. And tools, too.” He was grinning. “There is much to do.”

“Not now,” I hissed. I could scarcely believe what had happened, but I was already tallying up things we would need and trying to plan how we would achieve our aims at Werceworthe.

“My lord king,” a voice shouted over the tumult.

Gradually, the men fell silent and we all turned to face the speaker. It was a sour-faced man in a drab kirtle. Unlike the other men, this man had no finery. The cloth of his garments was dark and simple, and the clasp for his grey cloak was dull bronze, not the glistening gold of those worn by his fellow counsellors, even Daegmund the priest.

“Lord Mancas?” Æthelred spoke the name with a raised eyebrow. “You wish to speak?”

“Indeed, my lord,” Mancas said, standing and fastidiously smoothing down the wool of his kirtle where it was wrinkled.

Æthelred nodded, giving him leave to address the hall.

“Thank you, my lord king. You are most wise in having chosen this course of action.” Æthelred smiled at the man’s obvious flattery. “The cost to the royal purse will be quite small, and the possible benefits great. And, as you have reminded us, Hunlaf and Runolf have already proven themselves trusty servants. However, whilst I do not believe Daegmund expressed himself as well as he might have, I too have some reservations about this plan.”

The priest was staring intently at Mancas, his expression unreadable.

“Indeed?” said the king. “Please explain.”

Mancas cleared his throat, holding up a slender hand to his mouth.