She fell into a fretful doze and was awakened by a knock at the door, three sharp taps, polite but urgent. A voice said: “My lady! Eanfrid here.”

Now for the aftermath, she thought.

She stood up, brushed off her dress, and smoothed her hair, then said: “Let him in, Ceolwulf.”

Dawn was breaking, she saw when the door was opened. Eanfrid entered, red-faced and panting from the effort of carrying his considerable bulk at a fast walk. Without preamble he said: “Wigelm is missing.”

Ragna adopted a tone of brisk efficiency. “Where was he when you last saw him?”

“He was in my alehouse, still drinking with Garulf and others, when I fell asleep.”

“Has anyone looked for him?”

“His men have been wandering around calling his name half the night.”

“I didn’t hear anything.” Ragna turned to her servants. “Did you?”

Osgyth said quickly: “Nothing, my lady. It was quiet here the whole night through.”

Ragna was keen to get them both to commit to lying. She said: “Did either of you go outside at all in the night, even just to piss or anything?”

Osgyth shook her head, and Ceolwulf said firmly: “I didn’t move from my place by the door.”

“Right.” She was satisfied. It would now be difficult for them to change their story. “It’s daylight, so we must organize a systematic search.”

They walked to the village. Passing the canal brought grim thoughts, but Ragna pushed them to the back of her mind. She went to the priest’s house and banged on the door. The church did not have a bell tower, but Draca had a handbell. The shaven-headed priest appeared and Ragna said briskly: “Lend me your bell, please.” He produced it and she rang vigorously.

People who were already up and about came immediately to the green between the church and the alehouse. Others followed, buckling their belts and rubbing their eyes. Most of Wigelm’s party looked much the worse for their revels.

The sun was rising by the time everyone had assembled. Ragna spoke so that all could hear. “We’ll form three search parties,” she said in a tone that did not invite discussion. She pointed at the priest. “Draca, take three villagers and search the west pasture. Go around the edges and all the way to the riverbank.” Next she chose the baker, a solidly reliable man. “Wilmund, you take three men-at-arms and search the east ploughland. Again, make sure you’re thorough and go all the way to the canal.” Wilmund would find the corpse if he was meticulous. Finally she turned to Garulf, whom she wanted out of the way. “Garulf, take everyone else to the north wood. That’s where your uncle is most likely to be. My guess is he lost his way in a drunken stupor. You’ll probably find him asleep under a bush.” The men laughed. “All right, move out!”

The three search parties left.

Ragna knew she had to act normally. “I could do with some breakfast,” she said to Eanfrid, though in truth she was still too wound up to be hungry. “Get me some ale and bread and an egg.” She led the way into the tavern.