Fulcric said: “You’re half asleep, boy. They were hiding in the trees.”

Edgar said: “You know me, Elfgar. I mean no harm. What happened to your arm?”

“I was in the king’s army and I got a spear wound from a Viking,” Elfgar said proudly. “It’s healing, but I can’t fight until it’s better, so they sent me home.”

Fulcric said: “Keep moving, you two.”

They crossed the clearing but, before they came to the house, the door opened and Wynstan came out. When he saw Edgar and Aldred he registered surprise but—strangely—not dismay. “So, you found the place!” he said cheerfully.

Aldred said: “I am here to see the lady Ragna.”

“I haven’t seen her myself yet,” said Wynstan. “I’ve been . . . busy.” He glanced back through the open door of the house he had left, and Edgar thought he saw Agnes there.

That confirmed another rumor.

Edgar said: “You have kidnapped her and imprisoned her here against her will. That’s a crime, and you shall be called to account.”

“On the contrary,” said Wynstan mildly. “The lady Ragna wished to retire from the public eye and mourn her late husband in solitude for a year. I offered her the use of this isolated lodge so that she could be undisturbed. She accepted my offer gratefully.”

Edgar looked at him through narrowed eyes. Widows did sometimes withdraw for a period of mourning, but they went to nunneries, not hunting lodges. Was there any chance at all that this fairy tale might be believed? Everyone present knew it was a blatant lie, but others might not. Wynstan had escaped the charge of forgery with a similarly devious ruse. Edgar said: “I insist you free the lady Ragna immediately.”

“There’s no question of freeing her,” Wynstan said, still pretending to be all sweet reason. “She has expressed a wish to return to Shiring, and I have come to escort her there.”

Edgar stared, incredulous. “You’re taking her back to the compound?”

“Yes. Quite naturally, she wants to see King Ethelred.”

“The king is coming to Shiring?”

“Yes, so we’re told. We’re not sure when.”

“And you’re taking Ragna to meet him?”

“Naturally.”

Edgar was confounded. What was Wynstan up to now? His tone of goodwill was of course completely false, but what did he intend in reality?

Edgar said: “Will she tell me the same?”

“Go and ask her,” said Wynstan. “Elfgar, let him in.”

Elfgar unbarred the door, and Edgar went inside. The door closed behind him.

The room was dark: the shutters were closed over the windows. It smelled bad, like the slave quarters in the ealdorman’s compound, where the people were not allowed out at night. Flies circled around a covered pot in a corner. The rushes on the floor should have been changed months ago. Mice rustled underfoot. It was hot and airless.

As his eyesight adjusted to the gloom Edgar saw two women sitting facing each other on a bench, holding hands. Evidently he had interrupted an intimate conversation. One of the women was Hildi: she got up and left immediately. The other had to be Ragna, but she was almost unrecognizable. Her hair was dirty brown rather than red-gold, and her complexion was spotty. Her dress might once have been blue, but now it was a mottled gray-brown. Her shoes were in tatters.