As Aldred stood alongside his brethren, chanting the prayers, he began to feel at peace with himself, with the world, and with God. On his travels he had missed this.

However, today the peace did not last long.

A few minutes into the service he heard the opening creak of the west door, the main entrance that was rarely used. All the younger monks turned to see who was coming in. Aldred recognized the pale-blond hair of Bishop Wynstan’s young secretary, Deacon Ithamar.

The older monks determinedly carried on with the prayer. Aldred decided that someone had to find out what Ithamar wanted. He stepped out of the line and spoke to Ithamar in a whisper. “What is it?”

The deacon looked nervous but spoke loudly. “Bishop Wynstan summons Wigferth of Canterbury.”

Aldred involuntarily glanced at Wigferth, who looked back with a frightened expression on his chubby face. Aldred was scared himself, but decided he was not going to let Wigferth go alone to confront an angry Wynstan: there were still men who responded to an unwelcome message by sending back the messenger’s head in a sack. For Wynstan to do such a thing was unlikely, but not impossible.

Aldred faked a confident tone. “Be so good as to apologize to the bishop and say that Brother Wigferth is at prayer.”

Ithamar clearly did not want to return with that reply. “The bishop will not be pleased to be told to wait.”

Aldred knew that. He kept his voice calm and reasonable. “I’m sure Wynstan would not want to interrupt a man of God at prayer.”

Ithamar’s expression said clearly that Wynstan had no such scruples, but the young deacon hesitated to voice the thought.

Not all monks were priests, but Aldred was both, and he outranked Ithamar, who was merely a deacon, so Ithamar had to give in to him sooner or later. After a long moment of thought Ithamar came to the same conclusion and reluctantly left the church.

First blood to the monks, Aldred thought giddily. But his feeling of triumph was muted by the thought that this was surely not over.

He returned to prayer, but his mind was elsewhere. What would happen after the service, when Wigferth would no longer have an excuse? Would Aldred and Wigferth go to the bishop’s palace together? Aldred was not suited to the role of bodyguard, but perhaps he was better than nothing. Could he persuade Abbot Osmund to accompany them? Wynstan would surely hesitate to molest an abbot. On the other hand, Osmund was not a brave man. It would be typical of Osmund to say pusillanimously that Elfric of Canterbury had written the message and sent Wigferth, so it was up to Elfric to protect his messenger.

However, the explosion came sooner.

The main door opened again, this time with a bang. The chanting stopped instantly, and every monk turned to look behind. Bishop Wynstan strode in, his cloak flying. He was followed by Cnebba, one of his men-at-arms. Wynstan was a big man, but Cnebba was bigger.