“Have you ever seen him?” Odo asked.

“I put an ax into his arm one night when he tried to steal our pig, but he got away. Here we are.” Edgar beached the raft on Leper Island and stood holding the rope while Odo stepped off, still holding Adelaide.

He carried her to the nunnery door, and Mother Agatha opened it. She ignored his nakedness and looked at the wounded woman.

Odo said: “My wife . . .”

“Poor woman,” said Agatha. “I will try to help her.” She reached for the unconscious form.

“I’ll bring her in.”

Agatha just shook her head silently.

Odo let her lift Adelaide from his arms. Agatha took the weight effortlessly and went back inside. An invisible hand closed the door.

Odo stood staring at the door for several moments, then turned away.

They boarded the raft. “I’d better go to the alehouse,” Odo said.

“You won’t be welcome there, with no money,” Edgar said. “But the monastery will take you in. Prior Aldred will give you a monk’s robe and some shoes, and clean your wounds, and feed you for as long as you need it.”

“Thank God for monks.”

Edgar poled across to the bank and tied up. “Come with me,” he said.

Odo stumbled as he disembarked, and went down on his knees. “Sorry,” he said. “My legs feel weak. I carried her a long way.”

Edgar hauled him up. “Just a bit farther.” He walked Odo to the building that had been the priests’ house and was now the monastery. He lifted the latch and half carried Odo inside. The monks were at dinner around the table, all but Aldred, who stood at the lectern Edgar had made, reading aloud.

He stopped when Edgar and Odo came in. “What happened?” he said.

“On his way home to Cherbourg Odo and his wife were beaten, robbed, stripped, and left for dead,” Edgar said.

Aldred closed the book and took Odo’s arm gently. “Come over here and lie down near the fire,” he said. “Brother Godleof, bring me some wine to clean his wounds.” He helped Odo lie down.

Godleof brought a bowl of wine and a clean rag, and Aldred began to wash the injured man’s bloody face.

Edgar said to Odo: “I’ll leave you. You’re in good hands.”

Odo said: “Thank you, neighbor.”

Edgar smiled.

Ragna named the elder twin Hubert, after her father, and called the younger Colinan. They were not identical, and it was easy to tell which was which because one was big and fair and the other small and dark. Ragna had enough milk to feed them both: her breasts felt swollen and heavy.

She had no shortage of help looking after them. Cat had been present at the birth and doted on them from the start. Cat had married Bern the Giant, and had a baby of her own the same age as Ragna’s Osbert. She seemed happy with Bern, although she had told the other women that his belly was so big that she always had to get on top. They had all giggled, and Ragna had wondered how men would feel if they knew the way women talked about them.