The king did not hesitate. “Locking a woman in is not protection.”

He was not so easily fooled, Ragna saw.

Ethelred went on: “Before I confirm Wigelm as ealdorman, I will require both Wigelm and Wynstan to swear an oath not to imprison the lady Ragna.”

Ragna allowed herself a moment of sheer relief. She was free—for now, at least: oaths could be broken, of course.

Ethelred went on: “Now, what’s this about Outhen? I thought she had received that land as part of her marriage contract.”

“True,” said Wynstan. But my brother Wilwulf had no right to give it to her.”

Ragna said indignantly: “You negotiated the marriage contract with my father! How can you repudiate it now?”

Wynstan said smoothly: “It has belonged to my family since time immemorial.”

“No, it hasn’t,” said the king.

Everyone stared at him. This was a surprise intervention.

Ethelred went on: “My father gave it to your grandfather.”

Wynstan said: “There may be legends—”

“No legends,” said the king. “It was the first deed I witnessed.”

That was an unexpected piece of luck for Ragna.

Ethelred went on: “I was nine years old when I witnessed it. That’s not time immemorial, I’m only thirty-six now.” The noblemen laughed.

Wynstan looked sick—clearly he had not known the history of the land.

Ethelred said firmly: “The lady Ragna is to have the Vale of Outhen and all the income from it.”

Ragna said gratefully: “Thank you. And my dowry?”

Ethelred said: “A widow is entitled to the return of her dowry. How much was it?”

“Twenty pounds of silver.”

“Wigelm shall pay Ragna twenty pounds.”

Wigelm looked furious and said nothing.

Ethelred said: “Do it now, Wigelm. Go and fetch twenty pounds.”

Wigelm said: “I don’t think I have that much.”

“Then you’re not a very good ealdorman. Perhaps I should reconsider.”

“I’ll go and look.” Wigelm stormed off.

“Now,” Ethelred said to Ragna, “what is to be done about you and the child you’re carrying?”

“I have a request, my lord king. Please don’t make that decision today.” This was the approach Aldred had counseled, and Ragna had decided it was wise. But she added a further demand. “I would like to go to the convent on Leper Island, and give birth there, cared for by Mother Agatha and the nuns. I will leave tomorrow morning, if I gain your permission. Please, wait until the baby is born before you decide my future.” She held her breath.

Aldred spoke up again. “If I may say so, my lord king, any plan you make today may be overtaken by the unpredictable events of childbirth. Heaven forbid, but the child may not live. If it lives, the picture will change depending on whether it is a boy or a girl. Worst of all, the mother may not survive the ordeal. All these things are in God’s hands. Would it not make sense to wait and see?”

Ethelred did not need persuading. In fact he looked relieved not to have to make a decision. “So be it,” he said. “Let us reconsider the matter of the widow lady Ragna after her child is born. Sheriff Den is responsible for her safety as she travels to Dreng’s Ferry.”