There were always three bodyguards outside Wilf’s house: one at the door and one at each of the two front corners of the building. Wigelm had spent two nights observing them, partly through cracks in Gytha’s walls and partly by going outside to piss frequently. He had found that all three bodyguards spent most of the night sitting on the ground with their backs to the walls of the house, and they often dozed off. Tonight they were probably in a drunken stupor and would not even know that two murderers were entering the house they were guarding. However, Wynstan had a story ready in case they were wide awake.

They were not, but he was taken aback to find Bern standing in front of Wilf’s door.

“God be with you, my lord bishop, and you, Thane Wigelm,” said Bern in his French accent.

“And with you.” Wynstan recovered quickly from the shock and implemented the fallback plan he had devised in case the bodyguards were not asleep. “We have to wake Wilf,” he said, speaking low but clearly. “It’s an emergency.” He glanced at the other two guards, who slept on. Improvising, he said to Bern: “Come inside with us—you need to hear this.”

“Yes, my lord.” Bern looked puzzled, as well he might—how would the brothers have learned of this emergency, in the middle of the night, when no one appeared to have entered the compound to bring news? But though he frowned, he opened the door. His task was to protect Wilf, but it would not occur to him that the ealdorman was in danger from his own brothers.

Wynstan knew exactly what had to happen now to counteract the surprise interference of Bern—it was obvious to him—but would Wigelm figure it out? Wynstan could only hope.

Wynstan went in, walking quietly on the straw. Wilf and Carwen were asleep on the bed, wrapped in blankets. Wynstan put the lamp and the cloth bag on the table but kept hold of the strap. Then he turned to look back.

Bern was closing the door behind him. Wigelm reached for his dagger. Wynstan heard a noise from the bed.

He looked at the two in bed and saw that Carwen was opening her eyes.

He grasped the ends of the strap and stretched a length of about a foot between his two hands. At the same time, he went down on one knee beside the slave girl. She came awake quickly, sat up, looked terrified, and opened her mouth to shout. Wynstan dropped the belt over her head, drew it into her open mouth like a horse’s bit, and pulled it tight. Thus gagged, she could make only desperate gargling sounds. He twisted the belt tighter, then looked behind him.

He saw Wigelm cut Bern’s throat with a powerful slash of his long dagger. Well done, Wynstan thought. Blood spurted and Wigelm jumped out of the way. Bern fell. The only noise was the thud his body made as it hit the ground.