Gab’s wife, Bee, said: “The alehouse can be rowdy, but the food is all right.”

“Thank you.” Edgar turned around slowly, giving himself time to look carefully at the sticks hanging on the wall. There was a fresh-cut one, he observed, pale and new.

He saw immediately that it had five notches.

That proved it.

He masked his satisfaction, trying to look disappointed and mildly resentful at being refused accommodation. “Good-bye, then,” he said, and walked out.

He felt jubilant as he and Eadbald carried the last stone to the river. He was not sure why, but he was pleased to be able to do Ragna a good turn. He looked forward eagerly to telling her all about it.

When the last stone had been added to the stack, Edgar said: “I think the stones will be safe for an hour, if I leave Brindle here, especially now that it’s getting dark. We can get our supper at the alehouse. You two can sleep there, but I’ll spend the night on the raft. The weather’s not too cold.”

He tied up Brindle on a long string, then the three brothers walked to the alehouse. They got bowls of mutton stew and plenty of rye bread, and a pot of ale each. Edgar noticed Gab in a corner with Dudda, deep in conversation.

Eadbald said: “I saw that there was too much money in that purse.”

Edgar had been wondering when this would come up. He said nothing.

Erman said: “What are we going to do with the extra?”

Edgar noticed the use of “we” but did not comment on it. He said: “Well, I think we’re entitled to pay for our supper and beds for the night, but the rest goes back to Dreng, obviously.”

“Why?” said Erman.

Edgar disliked the question. “Because it’s his money!”

“He said he was giving you twelve pennies. How many were there?”

“Twenty-four.”

“How many extra is that?” Erman was not good with numbers.

“Twelve.”

“He made a mistake. So we can keep the extra twelve. We each get . . . a lot.”

Eadbald, who was smarter than Erman, said: “Four each.”

Edgar said: “So you’re asking me to steal twelve pennies and give eight away!”

“We’re all in this together,” said Erman.

“What if Dreng realizes his mistake?”

“We’ll swear there were only twelve pennies in the purse.”

Eadbald said: “Erman’s right. This is a chance.”

Edgar shook his head firmly. “I’m giving the extra back.”

Erman adopted a jeering tone. “You’ll get no thanks from Dreng.”

“I never get any thanks from Dreng.”

Eadbald said: “He’d steal from you if he could.”

“He would, but I’m not like him—thank heaven.”

They gave up.

Edgar was not a thief, but Gab was. There had been only five notches on his stick, whereas Edgar had bought ten stones. If Gab recorded only half of what he sold, he would pay Ragna only half of what was due. But for that he would need the cooperation of the village headman, who was responsible for making sure the villagers paid the right dues. Dudda would betray Gab’s scam—unless he were paid to keep quiet. And right now in front of Edgar’s eyes Gab and Dudda were drinking together and talking seriously, as if they were discussing some important common interest.