I let Gerbruht turn Spearhafoc, a tricky task in the narrow and shallow channel, but one he did with his usual skill as I went forward and confronted our two visitors. ‘First, who are you?’

‘Father Hedric,’ the priest answered.

‘You’re one of Æthelhelm’s sorcerers?’

‘I serve in his household,’ the priest answered proudly. He was a small tubby man with a wisp of white beard.

‘And you?’ I asked the well-dressed man who wore the silver chain. He was tall, thin, with a long jaw, and dark, deep-set eyes. A clever man, I thought, which made him dangerous.

‘I am Halldor.’

‘A Dane?’ I asked, his name was Danish.

‘A Christian Dane,’ he said.

‘And what does a Christian Dane do in Æthelhelm’s household?’

‘I serve at Lord Æthelhelm’s wishes,’ he answered icily.

‘You have a message?’ They were both silent.

‘Where to, lord?’ Gerbruht called from the stern.

I saw that the fishing boat was waiting. She was too small and the number of men aboard too few to dare challenge us, but even as I watched I saw a second and equally heavily laden boat come from the harbour. ‘Pick up the women!’ I called to Gerbruht. ‘We’ll deal with those boats after.’ I turned back to our two prisoners. ‘You have a message?’ I demanded a second time.

‘King Edward is dead,’ Father Hedric said, then made the sign of the cross. ‘God rest his soul.’

‘And King Ælfweard reigns,’ Halldor the Dane added, ‘and may God give him a long and prosperous reign.’

The king was dead. And I had come to kill the new king. Wyrd bið ful ãræd.

PART TWO

City of Darkness

Five

Eadgifu, her women, and her three children must all have been waiting for us because they were crouched with the sentries just inside the tall reeds at the creek’s edge, hidden from Æthelhelm’s men, who rowed clumsily to confront us. We steered Spearhafoc into the muddy bank, feeling the hull touch bottom. ‘Come on!’ I called to the women. ‘Hurry!’

‘We’ll get wet!’ Eadgifu protested.

‘Wet is better than dead, my lady, now hurry!’

She still hesitated until Awyrgan leaped overboard then waded ashore and held out his hand. I saw her smile as she took it, then Awyrgan, along with the sentries, helped them all into the creek. Eadgifu squealed as the water came over her waist, but Benedetta calmed her. ‘Lord Uhtred is right, my lady. Better to be wet than dead.’ Once at the ship’s side we unceremoniously lifted Eadgifu into the ship. She scowled as she reached the deck. ‘Your husband’s dead,’ I told her with deliberate brutality.

‘Good, may he rot in peace,’ was her curt answer, though I suspect her anger was delivered more towards me for soaking her rich clothes than at her husband. She turned and offered a hand to help Awyrgan into the boat, but Beornoth gently edged her aside and lifted the man by himself. Then Eadgifu saw Halldor and the priest at the stern of the boat and she spat towards them. ‘Why are they here?’