Godmaer said: “I will now drill a hole in the patient’s skull to allow the accumulated choler to escape.

Hildi made an exasperated sound.

Ragna said: “Just a minute. There is already a hole in his skull. If there was an excess of any fluid it would surely have come out by now.”

Godmaer looked taken aback, and Ragna realized that he had not lifted the loose skin and therefore did not know about the crack in the skull. But he recovered quickly, squared his shoulders, and looked indignant. “I trust you’re not questioning the judgments of a medically trained man.”

Ragna could play that game. “As the wife of the ealdorman I question the judgment of everyone except my husband. I thank you for your attendance, Father, even though I did not invite you, and I will bear your advice in mind.”

Gytha said: “I invited him because he is the leading medical practitioner in Shiring. You have no right to deny the ealdorman the recommended treatment.”

“I’ll tell you something, stepmother-in-law,” said Ragna angrily. “I’ll make a hole in the throat of anyone who tries to make another hole in my husband’s head. Now take your pet priest out of my house.”

Godmaer gasped. Ragna realized she had gone too far—referring to Godmaer as “your pet priest” was close to sacrilege—but she hardly cared. Godmaer was arrogant, which made him dangerous. Medically trained priests rarely cured anyone, in her experience, but they often made sick people worse.

Gytha murmured something to Godmaer, who nodded, lifted his head, and stalked out, still carrying the bow drill. His assistant followed.

There were still too many people standing around uselessly. “Everyone except my servants please leave now,” Ragna said. “The ealdorman needs peace and quiet to get well.”

They all went out.

Ragna bent over Wilf again. “I will take care of you,” she said. “I will do as I have for the last half a year, and govern your territory as you would govern it.”

There was no response.

She said: “Do you think you can answer one more question?”

He opened his eyes, and his lips twitched in the ghost of a smile.

“What is the most important thing you need me to do now, as your deputy?”

She thought she saw a look of intelligence come over his face. He said: “Appoint a new commander for the army.” Then he closed his eyes.

Ragna sat on a cushioned stool and looked thoughtfully at him. He had given her a clear instruction in a moment of lucidity. From it she deduced that the army’s work was not yet done, and the Vikings had not been driven off. The men of Shiring needed to regroup and attack again. And for that they needed a new leader.

Wynstan would want his brother Wigelm to be in charge. Ragna dreaded that: the more power Wigelm acquired, the more likely he was to challenge her authority. Her choice would be Sheriff Den, an experienced leader and fighter.