Ragna wanted nothing more than to get into bed with her husband, but she knew they had to join in the banquet. She would not eat much, but it was important for her to talk to as many people as possible. This was her chance to make a good impression on the townsfolk, and she seized it eagerly.

Aldred introduced her to Abbot Osmund, and she sat beside him for several minutes, asking questions about the monastery. She took the opportunity to praise Aldred, saying she shared his view that Shiring could become an international center of scholarship—under Osmund’s leadership, of course. Osmund was flattered.

She spoke to most of the leading townspeople: Elfwine, the master of the mint; the wealthy Widow Ymma, who traded in furs; the woman who owned the Abbey Alehouse, the most popular drinking place in town; the parchment maker; the jeweler; the dyer. They were pleased by her attention, for it marked them, in the eyes of their neighbors, as important people.

The task of chatting amiably to strangers became easier as the drink flowed. Ragna introduced herself to Sheriff Denewald, who was called Den, a tough-looking gray-haired man in his forties. He was at first wary of Ragna, and she guessed why: as a rival to Wilf he expected her to be hostile. But his wife was at his side, and Ragna asked her about their children, and discovered that their first grandchild had just been born, a boy; whereupon the tough sheriff turned into a doting grandpa and became misty-eyed.

As Ragna moved away from Sheriff Den, Wynstan approached her and said in a challenging tone: “What were you talking to him about?”

“I promised to tell him all your secrets,” she said, and she was rewarded by a momentary flash of anxiety in his eyes before he realized she was mocking him. She went on: “In fact I talked to Den about his new grandson. And now I have a question for you. Tell me about the Vale of Outhen, now that it’s mine.”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about it,” said Wynstan. “I’ve been collecting the rents for Wilf, and I’ll continue to do the same for you. All you have to do is take the money when it comes in four times a year.”

She ignored that. “There are five villages and a quarry, I believe.”

“Yes.” He offered no additional information.

“Any mills?” she tried.

“Well, there’s a grindstone in each village.”

“No water mills?”

“Two, I think.”

She gave him a charming smile, as if he were being helpful. “Any mining? Iron ore, silver?”

“Certainly no precious metals. There might be one or two groups of iron smelters working in the woods.”

“You’re a bit vague,” she said mildly, holding her annoyance in check. “If you don’t know what’s there, how can you be sure they’re paying what they should?”

“I scare them,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “They wouldn’t dare cheat me.”

“I don’t believe in scaring people.”