Ragna stretched out her arms toward Alain.

Meganthryth turned her back.

Ragna was horrified that any woman could do such a thing, and her heart filled with loathing.

With an effort, she turned from Alain and spoke to Wigelm, doing her best to use a calm, reasonable voice. “We need to discuss this,” she said.

“No. I don’t discuss. I tell you what’s going to happen.”

“Will you make a prisoner of Alain, and keep him locked in this house? That will turn him into a weakling, not a warrior.”

“Of course I won’t.”

“Then he will play in the compound with his brothers, and he will go with them when they come home, and every day you will have to do what you’ve just done. And when you’re not here, which is often, who is going to drag the little boy away from his family while he kicks and screams for his mother?”

Wigelm looked baffled. Clearly he had thought of none of this. Then his face cleared and he said: “When I travel I’ll take him with me.”

“And who will look after him on the road?”

“Meganthryth.”

Ragna glanced at her. She looked appalled. Clearly she had not been consulted. But she clamped her mouth shut.

Wigelm went on: “I leave for Combe tomorrow. He can come with me. He’ll get to know about the life of an ealdorman.”

“You’re going to take a two-year-old on a four-day journey.”

“I don’t see why not.”

“And when you come back?”

“We’ll see. But he’s not going to live with you, not ever again.”

Ragna could no longer control herself, and she began to cry. “Please, Wigelm, I beg you, don’t do this. Forget about me, but take pity on your son.”

“I pity him being raised by a gaggle of women and turned effeminate. If I allowed that to happen he would grow up to curse his father. No, he stays here.”

“No, please—”

“I’m not listening to any more of this. Get out.”

“Just think, Wigelm—”

“Do I have to pick you up and throw you through the door?”

Ragna could not take any more beating. She hung her head. “No,” she sobbed. Slowly she turned and walked to the door. She looked back at Alain, still screaming hysterically and holding his arms out to her. With a huge effort she turned away and walked out.

The loss of her youngest child left a hole in Ragna’s heart. She thought about him constantly. Did Meganthryth keep him clean and fed? Was he well, or suffering from a childish ailment? Did he wake at night and cry for her? She had to force herself to put him out of her mind for at least part of the day, otherwise she would go mad.

She had not given him up—she never would. So when the king and queen came to Winchester, Ragna went there to plead with them.

By this time Ragna had not seen Alain for a month. Wigelm’s visit to Combe turned into a spring tour of his region, and he kept the child with him. Apparently he intended on staying away from Shiring for an extended period.