“Liar!”

“He used that shovel on Mairead.”

Ragna said: “She’s telling the truth, Cwenburg. Your father was beating Mairead and he suffered some kind of seizure. He fell facedown onto the hearth, and I pulled him out of the fire. But he was already dead.”

Cwenburg went limp. Ragna released her and she sat down abruptly on the floor, weeping. She was probably the only person who would weep for Dreng, Ragna thought.

Several villagers crowded into the alehouse, staring at the corpse in the center of the room. Then Aldred came in. Seeing the body on the floor he crossed himself and murmured a short prayer.

Ragna was the most high-ranking person there, but Aldred was the landlord, and normally took responsibility for justice. However, he had no interest in squabbles over precedence, and he came straight to Ragna and said: “What happened?”

She told him.

Ethel stood up and spoke for the first time. “What am I going to do?” she said.

Aldred said: “Well, you own the alehouse, now.”

Ragna had not thought of that.

Cwenburg made a sudden recovery. “No, she doesn’t.” She got to her feet. “My father wanted me to inherit the alehouse.”

Aldred frowned. “Did he make a will?”

“No, but he told me.”

“That doesn’t count. The widow inherits.”

“She can’t run an alehouse!” Cwenburg said scornfully. “She’s always sick. I can, especially with Erman and Eadbald to help me.”

Ragna was sure Edgar would disapprove of this. She said: “Cwenburg, you and Erman and Eadbald are already rich, with your fishpond and your water mill, and paid laborers who do all the work on your farm. Do you really want to rob a widow of her livelihood?”

Cwenburg was abashed.

Ethel said: “But I’m not very strong. I don’t think I can manage it.”

Blod said: “I’ll help you.”

Ethel came over to her. “Will you, really?”

“I’ll have to. You own me, now, as well as the house.”

Mairead stood the other side of Ethel. “You own me, too.”

“I’ll free you in my will, I promise. Both of you.”

There was a murmur of approval from the watching villagers: freeing slaves was considered an act of piety.

Aldred said: “A lot of witnesses have heard your generous promise, Ethel. If you want to change your mind you should probably do it now.”

“I will never change my mind.”

Blod put her arm around Ethel, and Mairead did the same from the other side. Blod said: “We three women can manage the alehouse and look after Mairead’s baby—and make more money than Dreng ever did.”

“Yes,” said Ethel. “Perhaps we can.”

Wynstan found himself in a strange place. Puzzled, he looked around. It was an unfamiliar market square on a summer day, with people buying and selling eggs and cheese and hats and shoes all around him. He could see a church, large enough to be a cathedral. Alongside it was a fine house. Opposite was what looked like a monastery. On a hill beyond the square was a fenced compound that suggested the residence of a wealthy thane, perhaps an ealdorman. He felt scared. How had he got so lost? He could not even remember how he had come here. He felt himself shaking with terror.