“King Ethelred might believe us.”

Wynstan laughed scornfully. “He wouldn’t even pretend to. We’re usurping his prerogatives in two ways. First, we’re forcing a choice of ealdorman on him. Second, we’re interfering with the fate of a widow.”

“Surely he’s more worried about raising his twenty-four thousand pounds?”

“For now, yes, but once he’s got the money he’ll do whatever he wants.”

“So we need to keep Ragna alive.”

“If at all possible, yes. Alive, but under control.” Wynstan looked up to see Agnes entering. “And here is the little mouse that will help us do that.” He saw that she was carrying a basket. “Have you been shopping, my mouse?”

“Supplies for a journey, my lord bishop.”

“Come here, sit on my lap.”

She looked surprised and embarrassed, but also thrilled. She put down her basket and sat on Wynstan’s knee, perching with a straight back.

He said: “Now, what journey is this?”

“Ragna wants to go to Dreng’s Ferry. It takes two days.”

“I know how long it takes. But why does she want to go there?”

“She thinks you might kill her when you realize she will never marry Wigelm.”

Wynstan looked at Wigelm. This was the kind of thing he had feared. A good thing he had found out in advance. How clever he had been to place a spy in Ragna’s house. “What brought this on?” he said.

“I’m not sure, but Edgar showed up with some money for her, and it was his idea. She will live in the nunnery and she thinks she will be safe from you there.”

She was probably right, Wynstan thought. He did not want to make all England his enemy. “When will she leave?”

“Tomorrow at sunrise.”

Wynstan ran his hand over Agnes’s breasts, and she shuddered with desire. “You’ve done well, my little mouse,” he said warmly. “This is important information.”

In a shaky voice she said: “I’m so glad to have pleased you.”

He winked at his brother then put his hand up her dress. “So wet, already!” he said. “I seem to have pleased you, too.”

She whispered: “Yes.”

Wigelm laughed.

Wynstan eased Agnes off his lap. “Kneel down, my little mouse,” he said. He lifted his tunic. “Do you know what to do with this?”

She bent her head over his lap.

“Ah, yes,” he sighed. “I see that you do.”

As darkness was falling Ragna slipped out of the compound. She pulled her hood over her head and hurried across the town. She was happy to be on her way to see Edgar. It was a familiar feeling, she realized. She had always been happy to see him. And he had been an unfailingly good friend to her ever since she came to England.

She found Sheriff Den and his wife preparing to go to bed. Edgar was occupying an empty house in the compound, Den told her, and he took her there. The place was lit by a single rush light. Edgar stood by the fireplace, but there was no fire: the weather was warm.