The widow took the box and left without speaking.

And so, Aldred thought, great ones sin with impunity while lesser men are brutally chastised. What could God’s purpose be in this travesty of justice? But perhaps there was some small advantage to be gained. It occurred to Aldred that he should act now, while Wynstan was still pretending to be virtuous. Almost without thinking he said: “Ealdorman Wilwulf, after what we’ve heard today it’s clear that the minster at Dreng’s Ferry should be closed.” This was the time to clean out the rat’s nest, he thought, but he did not need to say it: the implication was obvious.

He saw a flash of rage cross Wynstan’s face, but it vanished quickly and the look of pious meekness returned.

Aldred went on: “The archbishop has already given his approval to a plan to turn the minster into a branch of Shiring Abbey and staff it with monks. When first broached the plan was shelved, but this seems a good moment to reconsider it.”

Wilwulf looked at Wynstan for guidance.

Aldred could guess what Wynstan was thinking. The minster had never been rich, and it was of little benefit to him now that the forgery racket had been stopped. It had been a useful sinecure for his cousin Degbert, but now Degbert had had to be moved. Its loss cost him next to nothing.

No doubt, Aldred thought, Wynstan was unhappy letting Aldred have even such a small victory, but he needed also to think about the impression he would make if he now tried to protect the minster. He had pretended to be shocked and appalled by the forgery, and people would expect him to be glad to turn his back on the place where it had happened. If he renewed his opposition to Aldred’s plan, skeptical people might even suspect that Wynstan wanted to revive the counterfeit workshop.

“I agree with Brother Aldred,” said Wynstan. “Let all the priests be reassigned to other duties, and let the minster become a monastery.”

Aldred thanked God for one piece of good news.

Wilwulf turned to Treasurer Hildred. “Brother Hildred, is this still the wish of Abbot Osmund?”

Aldred was not sure what Hildred would say. The treasurer generally opposed anything Aldred wanted. But this time he concurred. “Yes, ealdorman,” he said. “The abbot is keen to see this plan implemented.”

“Then be it so,” said Wilwulf.

But Hildred was not finished. “And furthermore . . .”

“Yes, Brother Hildred?”

“It was Aldred’s notion to turn the minster into a monastery, and he has now revived the idea. All along, Abbot Osmund thought the best choice for prior of the new institution would be . . . Brother Aldred himself.”

Aldred was taken by surprise. He had not anticipated this. And he did not want it. He had no wish to run a tiny monastery in the middle of nowhere. He wanted to become abbot of Shiring and create a world-class center of learning and scholarship.