‘You say there’s wine, father?’ I asked Oda.

‘Which needs drinking,’ the priest answered.

I gestured for my men to follow me, then sat on the bench and allowed Oda to pour me a generous beaker. ‘This,’ I held a hand towards Benedetta, ‘is one of Queen Eadgifu’s attendants. She’s come to collect some of the queen’s robes. I’m sure she would like some wine too.’

‘Queen Eadgifu?’ Bedwin asked as if he had never heard of her.

‘Who is here in Lundene,’ I said, ‘with her children. She’d like to use her old chambers in this palace.’

‘Queen Eadgifu!’ Bedwin sounded angry. ‘What is she doing here? She should be with her husband’s corpse!’

I drank the wine, which was much better than the swill I had drunk earlier. ‘She fled from Mercia,’ I said patiently, ‘because Lord Æthelhelm threatened her life and those of her children. I rescued her from his forces and she now seeks the protection of King Æthelstan.’ That was not quite true, Eadgifu trusted Æthelstan almost as little as she trusted Æthelhelm, but Bedwin did not need to know that.

‘Then she must travel to Gleawecestre,’ Bedwin said indignantly. ‘There’s no room for her here!’

‘Merewalh might have a different opinion,’ I suggested.

‘Merewalh has gone north,’ Bedwin said.

‘To Werlameceaster, I hear?’

Bedwin nodded, then frowned as Father Oda refilled my beaker. It was Father Oda who answered me, his voice smooth. ‘We had a report that an East Anglian army was coming, lord,’ he explained, ‘and Merewalh thought the danger sufficient to take most of his men to Werlameceaster.’

‘Leaving Lundene almost defenceless,’ I said unhappily.

‘Indeed, lord,’ Father Oda spoke calmly, but could not hide his disapproval of what Merewalh had chosen to do. ‘But Merewalh will return when he has dissuaded the East Anglians.’

‘When he’s beaten the shit out of them, you mean?’

‘No, lord. Dissuaded them. King Æthelstan insists that we do not begin the fighting. Lord Æthelhelm must kill first. King Æthelstan will not have the blood of fellow Christians on his hands unless he is attacked.’

‘Yet he captured Lundene! Are you telling me there was no fighting?’

Bedwin answered. ‘The West Saxons abandoned the city.’

I stared at Bedwin with astonishment. ‘They abandoned it?’ It seemed unbelievable to me. Lundene was Britain’s largest city, it was the fortress that joined East Anglia to Wessex, it was the place where a king could earn a small fortune in fees and taxes, and Æthelhelm had simply given it up?

Father Oda again offered an explanation. ‘We came, lord, they numbered fewer than two hundred men, they asked for a flag of truce, we described in some detail what fate awaited them if they insisted on defending the city and, seeing the sense of our proposals, they left.’

‘Some stayed,’ I said.

‘No, lord,’ Bedwin insisted. ‘They left.’

‘Waormund is here,’ I said. ‘I fought him not two hours ago.’

‘Waormund!’ Bedwin made the sign of the cross. I doubt he was even aware of doing it, but the fear that Waormund’s name aroused was plain on Bedwin’s face. ‘You know it was Waormund?’ he asked.