That’s it, Wynstan thought; now there’s no turning back.

He turned to see Wilf waking up. Carwen’s grunting took on fresh urgency. Wilf’s eyes opened wide. Even with his reduced mental capacity he could grasp what was happening in front of him. He sat bolt upright and reached for the knife beside his bed.

But Wigelm was quicker. He reached the bed in two strides and fell on Wilf just as Wilf grasped his weapon. Wigelm brought his knife hand down in a long overhand swing, but Wilf raised his left arm and knocked aside Wigelm’s blow. Then Wilf thrust at Wigelm, but Wigelm dodged.

Wigelm lifted his arm for another slash, but suddenly Carwen moved, surprising Wynstan, who did not have her restrained as tightly as he had thought. Still gagged, she jumped on Wigelm, pummeling him and trying to scratch his face, and it took Wynstan a moment to tug on the belt and jerk her back. He jumped on her, landing with both knees. Keeping hold of the belt with his right hand, he drew his own dagger with his left.

Wilf and Wigelm were still grappling and it seemed neither had struck a telling blow. Wynstan saw Wilf open his mouth to yell for help. That would have been disastrous: the plan required a silent murder. Wynstan leaned over as a roar began in Wilf’s throat. Using all the force he could muster in his left arm, he plunged the dagger into Wilf’s mouth and thrust it as hard as he could down Wilf’s throat.

The roar was cut off almost before it began.

Wynstan suffered a moment of paralyzed horror. He saw the panic of extreme pain in Wilf’s eyes. He jerked the knife out, as if that would somehow mitigate the atrocity.

Wilf gave a strangled grunt of agony and blood poured out of his mouth. He writhed in pain, but he did not die. Wynstan had been in battle, and he knew that men with fatal wounds might suffer a long time before they died. He needed to put Wilf out of his misery, but he could not bring himself to do it.

Then Wigelm administered the coup de grâce, plunging his knife into the left side of Wilf’s chest, aiming accurately for the heart. The blade sunk in deep and stilled Wilf in an instant.

Wigelm said: “May God forgive us both.”

Carwen began to cry.

Wynstan listened hard. He could hear nothing from outside the house. The killing had been done quietly and the guards had not been disturbed from their drunken slumbers.

He took a deep breath and pulled himself together. “That’s only the beginning,” he said.

He climbed off Carwen, still holding the gag tightly, and pulled her to her feet. “Now you listen to me carefully,” he said.

She stared at him with terrified eyes. She had seen two men stabbed to death and she thought she might be next.

“Nod if you understand me,” Wynstan said.

She nodded with frantic energy.