‘Murdered?’ said the butcher. ‘Says who?’ He brought his fist down on the desk, causing the mayor’s papers to dance and his paperweight to rock. The nerve-shattering sound reminded the men of the avalanche and the power of the mountain they perched on. The butcher turned away from the mayor and spoke directly to the assembled company. ‘How many here have hunting guns?’

Every man in the room reluctantly raised his hand, except Misha. The gun he’d secretly bought was a revolver.

‘It must have been an accident,’ said the butcher. ‘Perhaps,’ he leaned menacingly on the mayor’s desk, ‘it was you. You were a bad shot when you were young. I don’t imagine you to be any better in old age.’

‘But why would anyone go hunting so high up?’ said the miller.

‘I wondered that myself,’ said Misha, speaking for the first time. ‘And the shepherd wasn’t wearing his boots. I think whoever murdered him hoped the wolves would eat the corpse.’

The uneasy silence was broken by the butcher. ‘Are you going to listen to the opinion of the village idiot?’

Misha stood tall. He had been on the mountain night and day in the most inhospitable weather. He had stared his fear in the face, and the mountain gods had kept him strong. No man was going to say his word wasn’t to be trusted.

‘I’m no idiot,’ he said. ‘I know exactly where I found the body and I think none of us here would be surprised by whose gun fired the bullet.’

‘Are you accusing me of murder?’ said the butcher.

Misha said, ‘You alone know the truth of what you did.’

‘The marriage should wait,’ said the mayor decisively.

The butcher looked round the room at every man there, each of them trying to avoid his eye. ‘There’s no proof the shepherd was murdered. If you choose to believe the word of this idiot, what then? I’ll tell you. I hope you all have enough food stored for the winter because if my wedding doesn’t go ahead tomorrow, I will not lift a finger to help anyone in trouble. Do you understand what that means?’

There was silence.

‘I’ve no objection to the wedding,’ said the cabinet maker quickly. ‘And my daughter is ready.’

One of the elders spoke up. ‘The chief elder has a point. The investigation, if there is to be one, should take place when spring arrives and the constable can be brought from the town. But meanwhile, life must go on.’

The other elders and the doctor agreed.

The priest said, ‘I give the wedding my blessing.’

The butcher turned to the mayor.

‘Then tomorrow I will be married.’

‘You should all be ashamed of yourselves,’ said Misha. ‘You are forcing a wedding on a woman who has lost the man she truly loved.’