Wilf’s family stood in front of the crowd in a semicircle. To one side Ithamar sat at a table with parchment, ink, and pens. Although a wedding was not a religious sacrament, the details of property transfers had to be written down and witnessed, and the people who could write were mostly clergy.

Wilf and Ragna faced each other and held hands. When the cheering died down, Wilf said in a loud voice: “I, Wilwulf, ealdorman of Shiring, take you, Ragna of Cherbourg, to be my wife, and I vow to love you and care for you and be true to you for the rest of my life.”

Ragna could not match the power of his voice, but she spoke clearly and confidently. “I, Ragna, daughter of Count Hubert of Cherbourg, take you, Wilwulf of Shiring, to be my husband, and I vow to love you and care for you and be true to you for the rest of my life.”

They kissed, and the crowd cheered.

Bishop Wynstan blessed the marriage and said a prayer, then Wilf took from his belt a large ornamental key. “I give you the key to my house, for it is now your house, to make a home for me by your side.”

Cat passed Ragna a new sword in a richly decorated sheath, and Ragna presented it to Wilf, saying: “I give you this sword so that you can guard our house, and protect our sons and daughters.”

The symbolic gifts having been exchanged, they moved to the more important financial transactions.

Ragna said: “As promised by my father to your brother Bishop Wynstan, I give you twenty pounds of silver.”

Bern stepped forward and placed the chest at Wilwulf’s feet.

Wynstan stepped out of the crowd to say: “I witness that the chest contains the agreed amount.” He handed the key to Wilf.

Wilf said: “Let the clerk record that I give you the Vale of Outhen, with its five villages and its quarry, and all the income therefrom, for you and your heirs to hold until the Day of Judgment.”

Ragna had not yet seen the Vale of Outhen. She had been told that it was a prosperous neighborhood. She already owned the district of Saint-Martin in Normandy, and her income would be doubled by the addition of the Vale of Outhen. Whatever problems the future held for her, money was unlikely to be among them.

Grants of territory such as this were the everyday currency of politics in Normandy as well as England. The sovereign gave lands to the great noblemen, who in turned parceled them out to lesser rulers—called thanes in England, knights in Normandy—thereby creating a web of people who were loyal because they had gained wealth and hoped for more. Every nobleman had to strike a careful balance between giving away enough to generate support and keeping enough to give him superiority.

Now, to everyone’s surprise, Wigelm stepped out of the crowd and said: “Wait.”

Wouldn’t it be just like him, Ragna thought, to spoil my wedding somehow?