Finan had agreed with Eadith. ‘If you go south I’ll come with you,’ the Irishman had told me, ‘but we shouldn’t be going.’

‘You want Æthelhelm to live?’

‘I’d like to poke his eyeballs out by shoving Soul-Stealer up his rotten arse,’ Finan had said, speaking of his sword. ‘But I’d rather leave that pleasure to Æthelstan.’

‘I swore an oath.’

‘You’re my lord,’ he had said, ‘but you’re still a bloody fool. When do we leave?’

‘As soon as we hear of Edward’s death.’

For a year I had been expecting one of Æthelstan’s warriors to come from the south bringing news of a king’s death, but three days after I had first spoken with Æthelwulf a priest came instead. He found me in Bebbanburg’s harbour where Spearhafoc, newly repaired, was being launched. It was a hot day and I was stripped to the waist, helping the men who pushed the sleek hull down the beach. At first the priest did not believe I was Lord Uhtred, but Æthelwulf, who was with me and who was dressed as a nobleman, assured him I was indeed the ealdorman.

King Edward, the priest told me, still lived, ‘God be praised,’ he added. The priest was young, tired, and saddle sore. His horse was a fine mare, but like the rider she was dusty, sweat-soaked, and bone weary. The priest had ridden hard.

‘You rode all this way to tell me the king still lives?’ I asked harshly.

‘No, lord, I rode to bring you a message.’

I heard his message, and next day, at dawn, I went south.

I left Bebbanburg with just five men for company. Finan, of course, was one, while the other four were all good warriors, sword-skilled and loyal. I left the priest who had brought me the message in Bebbanburg and told my son, who had returned from the hills and was to command the garrison while I was away, to guard him well. I did not want the priest’s news spreading. I also gave my son instructions to keep Æthelwulf as an honoured prisoner. ‘He might be an innocent fool,’ I said, ‘but I still don’t want him riding south to warn his brother that I’m coming.’

‘His brother will know anyway,’ Finan had said drily. ‘He already knows you’re sworn to kill him!’

And that, I thought as I pounded the long road to Eoferwic, was strange. Æthelstan and I had sworn oaths to each other and agreed to keep those oaths secret. I had broken that agreement by telling Eadith, Finan, my son, and his wife, but I trusted all of them to keep the secret. So if Æthelhelm knew, then Æthelstan must have told someone, who, in turn, had told Æthelhelm of the threat, and that suggested there were spies in Æthelstan’s employment. That was no surprise, indeed I would have been astonished if Æthelhelm did not have men reporting to him from Mercia, but it did mean my enemy was forewarned of the threat I posed.