On the second day, when by chance Edgar and Ma were walking fifty yards or so ahead, she said thoughtfully: “Obviously you were some distance away from home when you saw the Viking ships.”

He had been waiting for this. Erman had asked puzzled questions, and Eadbald had guessed that something clandestine had been going on, but Edgar did not have to explain himself to them. However, Ma was different.

All the same, he was not sure where to begin, so he just said: “Yes.”

“I suppose you were meeting some girl.”

He felt embarrassed.

She went on: “No other reason for you to sneak out of the house in the middle of the night.”

He shrugged. It had always been hard to hide things from her.

“But why were you secretive about it?” she asked, following the chain of logic. “You’re old enough to woo a girl. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.” She paused. “Unless she was already married.”

He said nothing, but he felt his cheeks flame red.

“Go ahead, blush,” she said. “You deserve to feel ashamed.”

Ma was strict, and Pa had been the same. They believed in obeying the rules of the Church and the king. Edgar believed in it, too, but he had told himself that his affair with Sunni had been exceptional. “She hated Cyneric,” he said.

Ma was not going to buy that. She said sarcastically: “So you think the commandment says: ‘Thou shalt not commit adultery, unless the woman hates her husband.’”

“I know what the commandment says. I broke it.”

Ma did not acknowledge his confession. Her thoughts moved on. “The woman must have died in the raid,” she said. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have come with us.”

Edgar nodded.

“I suppose it was the dairyman’s wife. What was her name? Sungifu.”

She had guessed it all. Edgar felt foolish, like a child caught in a lie.

Ma said: “Were you planning to run away that night?”

“Yes.”

Ma took Edgar’s arm, and her voice became softer. “Well, you chose well, I’ll give you that. I liked Sunni. She was intelligent and hardworking. I’m sorry she’s dead.”

“Thank you, Ma.”

“She was a good woman.” Ma released his arm, and her voice changed again. “But she was someone else’s woman.”

“I know.”

Ma said no more. Edgar’s conscience would judge him, and she knew that.

They stopped by a stream to drink the cold water and rest. It was hours since they had eaten, but they had no food.

Erman, the eldest brother, was as depressed as Edgar but did not have the sense to shut up about it. “I’m a craftsman, not an ignorant peasant,” he grumbled as they resumed walking. “I don’t know why I’m going to this farm.”

Ma had little patience for whining. “What was your alternative, then?” she snapped, interrupting his lament. “What would you have done if I had not made you take this journey?”

Erman had no answer to that, of course. He mumbled that he would have waited to see what might turn up.