“I’m taking Alain to live at my house.”

The idea was so ludicrous that at first Ragna hardly took it seriously. “You can’t!” she said. “You can’t look after a two-year-old.”

“He’s my son. I shall do as I please.”

“Will you wipe his butt?”

“I’m not alone.”

Ragna said incredulously: “Are you talking about Meganthryth? You’re going to give him to Meganthryth to raise? She’s sixteen!”

“Many girls of sixteen are mothers.”

“But she’s not!”

“No, but she will do as I say, whereas you completely ignore my wishes. Alain hardly knows he’s got a father. But I will have him raised according to my principles. He must become a man.”

“No!”

Wigelm moved toward Alain, who was sitting at the table, looking scared. Cat stepped between the two. Wigelm grabbed the front of her dress with both hands, lifted her off her feet, and threw her at the wall. She screamed, hit the timber planks, and crumpled to the floor.

All the children were crying.

Wigelm picked Alain up. The boy screamed in terror. Wigelm tucked him under his left arm. Ragna grabbed Wigelm’s arm and tried to detach Alain. Wigelm punched the side of her head so hard that momentarily she blacked out.

She came to, lying on the floor. She looked up to see Wigelm going out, with Alain kicking and screaming under his arm.

She struggled to her feet and staggered to the door. Wigelm was marching across the compound to his own house. Ragna was too dazed to run after him, and anyway she knew she would only be knocked down again.

She turned back inside. Cat was sitting on the floor rubbing her head through her mop of black hair. Ragna said: “How badly are you injured?”

“I don’t think anything’s broken,” Cat said. “What about you?”

“My head hurts.”

Grimweald spoke. “What can I do to help?”

Ragna’s answer was sarcastic. “Just carry on protecting us, as usual,” she said.

The bodyguard stamped out.

The children were still wailing. The women began to comfort them. Cat said: “I can’t believe he’s taken Alain.”

“He wants Meganthryth to raise the boy to be a stupid bully like his father.”

“You can’t let him get away with this.”

Ragna nodded. She could not let things stand. “I’m going to talk to him,” she said. “Perhaps I can get him to see sense.” She was not optimistic, but she had to try.

She left the house and crossed to Wigelm’s place. As she approached, she could hear Alain crying. She went in without knocking.

Wigelm and Meganthryth stood talking, Meganthryth holding Alain and trying to quiet him. As soon as the child saw Ragna he screamed: “Mudder!” That was what he had always called Ragna.

Instinctively, Ragna went toward him, but Wigelm stopped her. “Leave him,” he said.

Ragna stared at Meganthryth. She was short and plump, and would have been pretty but for a twist about her mouth that suggested greed. Still, she was a woman: would she really refuse to let a child go to his mother?