‘We’ll not be getting out of the city this way,’ Finan said sourly.

Varin’s men had captured the gates, the bridge, and the Roman fort, which meant Lundene had fallen. Merewalh had been lured northwards, Bedwin had failed to guard the eastern roads, and now squads of Æthelhelm’s warriors began to probe into the deep alleys and streets of the city to end any hope of resistance from Bedwin’s defeated troops. We were trapped.

And I had made a second mistake that night. The first was the vain attempt to reach Spearhafoc, the second was to try to leave by a northern gate, and my best hope now was to find a boat and escape downriver. ‘Get us back to the wharves,’ I told Oswi, ‘east of the bridge.’ I wanted to be downriver of the bridge, which had perilous narrow gaps between the stone piers where the water seethed, churned, and had capsized many a smaller boat.

‘Bastards were swarming down there,’ Finan warned me.

‘Then we hide!’ I snarled. My anger was with myself, not with Finan. I felt like a rat trapped by terriers; still fighting but with no place to run.

No place to run, but there were places to hide, and Oswi knew Lundene like a rat knows a stable yard. He led us quickly, keeping to the small alleys that the enemy had not yet reached. We went eastwards now and, though we had still not met the enemy, we could hear them. We could hear shouts and shrieks, the clash of blades, the laughter of men enjoying an easy victory. Some people had fled to the churches to seek sanctuary and, as we skirted one wooden church, I heard a woman wailing and a baby crying.

We had to cross the wide street that led from the bridge to the big market square at the top of the hill. Torches burned on either side of the street, spewing dark smoke into the troubled air. There were groups of men beneath the flames, their swords sheathed and their shields stacked against walls. One group had rolled a barrel from the Red Pig tavern and an axeman stove in the lid to provoke cheers. A woman screamed, then abruptly went silent. Lundene had fallen and the captors were enjoying the spoils, but then a red-cloaked horseman spurred up from the river. ‘To the palace, lads!’ he called. ‘Leave that ale, there’s plenty more!’

The street emptied slowly, but it was still dangerous. I peered downhill and saw there were men guarding the bridge and some of them began to climb towards us. I guessed that this main street would stay busy all night, yet we had to cross it if we were to find a ship on the wharves to the east of the bridge. ‘We just stroll across,’ I said.

‘Stroll?’ Father Oda asked.

‘We don’t run. We don’t look frightened. We just stroll.’

So we did. We walked across the street slowly, as if we had not a care in the world. Benedetta was still with Father Oda, and one of the men coming from the bridge saw her. ‘You found a woman?’ he shouted.