From outside she heard the sound of a large group of people. Den was arriving with his entourage, she guessed. She stood up, still holding Alain in her arms. She went out.

Den was marching across the compound at the head of a large squad of men-at-arms. Ragna joined him and walked by his side. A crowd was waiting for them outside the great hall.

They stopped at the door and turned to face the people.

All the important men of the town stood at the front of the crowd. Bishop Wynstan was there, Ragna saw; and she was shocked by his appearance. He was thin and stooped, and his hands were shaking. He looked like an old man. His face as he stared at Ragna was a mask of hatred, but he seemed too weak to do anything about it, and his weakness appeared to fuel his rage.

Den’s deputy, Captain Wigbert, clapped his hands loudly.

The crowd went quiet.

Den said: “We have an announcement.”

CHAPTER 42

October 1006

ing Ethelred held court in Winchester Cathedral, with a crowd of dignitaries wrapped in furs against the bite of approaching winter.

To Ragna’s delight, he confirmed everything Sheriff Den had proposed.

Garulf protested, his indignant whine echoing off the stone walls of the nave. “I am the son of Ealdorman Wilwulf and the nephew of Ealdorman Wigelm,” he said. “Den is merely a sheriff without noble blood.”

The assembled thanes might have been expected to agree with this, for they all wanted their sons to be rulers too; but their reaction was muted.

Ethelred said to Garulf: “You lost half my army in one foolish battle in Devon.”

Kings have long memories, thought Ragna. She heard a rumble of agreement from the noblemen, who also remembered Garulf’s defeat.

“That will never happen again,” Garulf promised.

The king was unmoved. “It won’t, because you’ll never lead my army again. Den is ealdorman.”

Garulf at least had the sense to know when his case was hopeless, and he shut up.

It was not just the battle, Ragna reflected. Garulf’s family had defied the king’s rule again and again for a decade, disobeying orders and refusing to pay fines. It had seemed that they would get away with it indefinitely, but now at last their insurrection had come to an end. There was justice, after all. A pity it took such a long time coming.

Queen Emma, sitting next to the king on a similar cushioned stool, leaned over and murmured in his ear. He nodded and spoke to Ragna. “I believe your son has been restored to you, Lady Ragna.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

He addressed the court. “Let no one take the lady Ragna’s child from her.”

It was a fait accompli, but she was glad to have royal approval publicly stated. It gave her security for the future. “Thank you,” she said.

After the court, the new bishop of Winchester gave a banquet. It was attended by the previous bishop, Alphage, who had come from Canterbury. Ragna was keen to speak to him. It was high time Wynstan was removed from his bishopric, and the only person who could dismiss him was the archbishop of Canterbury.