“Many people here said something similar.”

“But how did it make sheriffs powerful?”

“They had to collect the money. That meant they had to have the power of enforcement. A sheriff now has his own military force, small but well paid and well armed.”

“And that makes him a countervailing power to Wilf.”

“Exactly.”

“Doesn’t the sheriff’s role clash with that of the ealdorman?”

“All the time. The ealdorman is responsible for justice, but the sheriff must deal with offenses against the king, which include not paying tax. Obviously there are borderline cases that cause friction.”

“How interesting.”

She was like a musician putting her fingers on the strings of a lyre, Aldred thought, trying it out before playing it. She was going to be a force in the region. She might do a lot of good. On the other hand, she might be destroyed.

If Aldred could help her he would. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you,” he said. “Come to the abbey.” It occurred to him that the sight of a woman like Ragna might be more than some of the young monks could bear. “Or just send a message.”

“Thank you.”

As he turned to the door, his eye was again caught by the large frame and busted nose of Offa. As a minor servant of the ealdorman, the reeve had a house in the town, but as far as Aldred knew he had no business with Ragna.

She saw his glance and said: “Do you know Offa, the reeve of Mudeford?”

“Yes, of course.” Aldred saw Ragna glance at Agnes, who dropped her eyes shyly, and he saw immediately that Offa was there to court Agnes, evidently with Ragna’s approval. Perhaps Ragna was keen for some of her servants to put down roots in England.

He took his leave and walked out of the compound. In the center of the town, crossing the square between the cathedral and the abbey church, he ran into Wigferth emerging from the bishop’s residence. “Did you deliver the letter to Wynstan?” he said.

“Yes, a few moments ago.”

“Did he boil over?”

“He took the letter and said he would read it later.”

“Hmm.” Aldred almost wished Wynstan had raged: the suspense was becoming unbearable.

The two monks returned to the abbey. The kitchener was serving the midday meal: eel boiled with onions and beans. While they were eating, Brother Godleof read the prologue to the Rule of Saint Benedict: “Obsculta, o fili, praecepta magistri, et incline aurem cordis tui.” Listen, my son, and turn the ear of your heart to the precepts of your master. Aldred loved the phrase aurem cordis, the ear of the heart. It suggested a way of listening more intense and thoughtful than the norm.

Afterward, the monks filed along the covered walkway to the church for the afternoon service of Nones. It was larger than the church at Dreng’s Ferry, but smaller than Shiring Cathedral. It consisted of two rooms, a nave about twelve yards long, and a smaller chancel, separated by a narrow arch. The monks entered by a side door. The senior men went into the chancel and took their places around the altar, while the rest stood in three neat rows in the nave, where the congregation would also stand, though there was rarely much of a congregation.