He stepped back to study the picture he had created. It looked exactly as if an inexperienced person had lost control and allowed the boat to become entangled and beach itself.

His work was done. Now he had to walk back.

First he needed to cross the river. He took off his tunic and shoes and made a bundle of them. He stepped into the river, holding his clothes above his head with one hand to keep them dry, and swam across. On the other side he dressed quickly, shivering, while Brindle energetically shook herself dry.

Side by side, Edgar and his dog started to walk home.

The forest was not empty of people. However, even Ironface should be asleep now. If anyone was awake and moving nearby, Brindle would give warning. All the same, Edgar drew his ax from his belt, to be ready for anything.

Would his ruse work? Would Dreng and the other residents of the hamlet make the false deduction Edgar was trying to lead them to? Suddenly he could not judge how plausible the whole deception was. Doubts tortured him: he could hardly bear the thought of Blod being recaptured, after all she had been through.

He passed Theodberht Clubfoot’s sheepfold, and Theodberht’s dog barked. He suffered a moment of anxiety: if Theodberht saw him, the deception would lose all credibility. He hurried on, and the dog quieted. No one came out of the house.

Walking along the bank, occasionally having to fight through vegetation, he found that progress was slower than when on the ferry, and it took him almost two hours to get back. The moon set as he was passing the farm, and the stars were obscured by cloud, so he did the last stretch in thick darkness.

He made his way to the alehouse by memory and feel. Now came the final moment of danger. He paused outside the door, listening. The only sounds from inside were snores. He lifted the latch gently and pulled the door open. The snoring continued undisturbed. He stepped inside. In the firelight he could see three sleeping forms: Dreng, Leaf, and Ethel.

He hung his ax on its hook and lowered himself carefully into the straw. Brindle stretched out beside the fire.

Edgar took off his shoes and belt, closed his eyes, and lay down. After so much tension he thought he would lie awake a long time, but he fell asleep in seconds.

He woke up when someone shook his shoulder. He opened his eyes to daylight. It was Ethel rousing him. A quick look around showed him that Dreng and Leaf were still asleep.

With a jerk of her head Ethel beckoned him, then stepped outside. He followed.

He shut the door behind him and spoke in a low voice. “Thank you for not giving us away.” It was too late for her to do so, because she would have to reveal that she had seen them go and had done nothing. Now she, too, was complicit.