The only woman in the hall was seated on the platform, where, at the long table, there were just three people. King Edward was in the center, to his left was his son Ælfweard, and on his right the queen. I had seen the queen some years before in the royal encampment outside Huntandun, and had been struck by her dark-eyed beauty and had thought then that she was just another of Edward’s beautiful whores. And so she probably had been, but she had also been a nobly born whore, daughter of Sigehelm, Ealdorman of Cent. She must have been an excellent whore because she had replaced Ælflæd, the sister of Æthelhelm the Younger, who was now a discarded wife shut away in a Wessex convent. And so the well-born whore had become Queen Eadgifu of Mercia, but not of Wessex, because that kingdom, for whatever reason, still refused to give the king’s wife the title of queen. Eadgifu was certainly more beautiful than the discarded Ælflæd. Her skin had the flawless bloom of youth, she had a high pale forehead, huge eyes, and hair as black as a raven’s wing, crowned by a gold circlet that held a single large emerald. Her dress was as dark as her hair, heavily embroidered with colorful birds and swags of ivy. A white shawl of rare and costly silk was draped on her shoulders. She watched as I climbed the dais steps. “Welcome, Lord Uhtred,” she said.

I took off my helmet and bowed to her. “The king summoned me, my lady,” I explained my presence. I should have bowed to the king, of course, and waited for him to speak, but Edward was slumped on the table, apparently asleep and most likely drunk. “Maybe I should return in the morning, my lady?”

Eadgifu gave her husband a scornful glance. “Or talk to me instead, Lord Uhtred?” She beckoned me.

“A pleasure, my lady.” It was no such thing. Talking to the queen when the king was drunk was a dangerous thing to do, and even more dangerous when the conversation was in full view of the assembled ealdormen of Wessex, Mercia, and East Anglia. They were indeed watching us. Prince Ælfweard, who hated me, looked both bored and drunk, but he was not yet asleep. He had frowned when he recognized me, but now pointedly ignored me and gestured to a servant to pour him more wine.

Eadgifu clapped her hands, and another servant scurried from the shadows. “A bench for Lord Uhtred,” she commanded, “and wine. Have you eaten?”

“I have, my lady.”

“Better than us, I expect. My husband did summon you, but seems to have forgotten.” She smiled brightly. “So we have a chance to talk.” She had spoken lightly, but I suspected Edward was far too drunk to have summoned me, which meant that Eadgifu had wanted to talk with me, and wanted to have that talk in front of her husband’s nobility. Dangerous, indeed. I turned to look down into the firelit hall and saw Æthelstan sitting at the table to my left. He nodded gravely, then shrugged as if to tell me that he did not know why I had been summoned. I looked at the other long table and saw Æthelhelm the Younger. He was staring at me with a blank expression, then looked away as I caught his eye.