“Let me talk to Aldred. He likes me.”
“It’s worth a try. But moral authority may not be enough. I need men-at-arms. All I’ve got is Bern.”
“What about Sheriff Den? He has men. If he backed you hewould be doing no more than enforcing the king’s laws—which is his duty.”
This was a possibility, Ragna thought. As she had belatedly discovered, Wilf and Wynstan had defied the king over the Cherbourg treaty and her marriage. The sheriff might well be smarting from that. “Den would probably relish an opportunity to restrain Bishop Wynstan.”
“I’m sure of it.”
Ragna felt she was beginning to see a way forward. “You talk to Aldred. I’ll go and see Den.”
“We should leave separately, so that it doesn’t look like a conspiracy.”
“Good point. I’ll go first.”
Ragna strode out of the house and across the compound. She spoke to no one: let them guess, fearfully, what her rage might bring about.
She went down the hill and turned toward the edge of town where Den lived.
She was deeply disappointed that Wynstan had been able to turn Wignoth against her. She had worked hard to win the loyalty of the servants in the compound, and she had imagined that she had succeeded. Gilda had been the first to adhere to Ragna, and the kitchen maids had followed her lead. The men-at-arms liked Garulf—they grinned and said he was a hell of a boy—and there was nothing she could do about that. But she had gone out of her way to befriend the stable hands, and now it seemed she had failed. People liked her better than Wynstan, she reflected, but they feared him more.
Now she needed all the support she could get. Would Den cometo her aid? She thought there was a chance. He had no reason to fear Wynstan. And Aldred? He would help if he could. But if they failed her, she would be alone.
The sheriff’s domestic establishment looked as formidable as the ealdorman’s, an impression that was surely intentional. He had a stockaded compound with barracks, stables, a great hall, and several smaller buildings.
Den had refused to join Wilf’s army, saying that his responsibility was to maintain the king’s peace within the district of Shiring, and he was needed all the more while the ealdorman was away—a view that was proved right by Wynstan’s behavior.
Ragna found Den in the great hall. He was pleased to see her, as men generally were. His wife and daughter were with him, and so was the grandson of whom he was so proud. Ragna spent a few minutes cooing over the baby, who smiled and babbled back at her. Then she got down to business.
“Wynstan is trying to rob me of my rents from the Vale of Outhen,” she said.
Den’s answer made her exultant.
“Is he, now?” Den said with a pleased smile. “Then we must do something about that.”
Ragna and her allies were careful not to speak about their plans beforehand, so their departure at dawn was unexpected, and no one had the chance to ride ahead and warn Wynstan. He was in for a shock.
Lady Day was the twenty-fifth day of March, the anniversary of the archangel Gabriel telling Mary that she was going to conceive achild miraculously. The air was cold but the sun was shining. This was the perfect moment, Ragna felt, to announce to the people of the valley that she was their new lord.
She left Shiring on a gray mare belonging to Den. The sheriff rode with her, and brought along a dozen men-at-arms led by their captain, Wigbert. She was thrilled by Sheriff Den’s support. It proved to her that she was not a weakling, totally in the power of her husband’s family. The conflict was not over yet, but she had already proved she was no pushover.
Bern, Cat, and Edgar walked alongside the horses. Outside the town they met up with Aldred, who had sneaked away from the abbey without telling Osmund.
Ragna felt triumphant. She had overcome every problem, negotiated every impediment put in her way. She had refused to give in to discouragement.
She recalled Wigelm’s rude intervention at her wedding. He had objected to her being given the Vale of Outhen, and had been quickly slapped down by Wilf. Ragna had wondered why Wigelm had troubled to make such an unwarranted protest, but now she thought she understood. He had been putting down a marker. He and Wynstan had a long-term plan to take Outhen from her, and they wanted to be able to say they had never accepted the legitimacy of the gift.
This had to be Wynstan’s plan. Wigelm was not smart enough. She felt a surge of loathing for the bishop. He abused his priestly robes by using his position to gratify his greed. The thought made her momentarily nauseated.
She had defeated them so far, but she told herself not to celebrate yet. She had frustrated Wynstan’s efforts to keep her at home, but that was only the start.
She turned her mind to what she needed to achieve with this visit. Endearing herself to the people was no longer the main objective. She first needed to make sure they understood that she was their lord, not Wynstan. She might not get another chance this good. The sheriff was not going to accompany her on every visit.
She questioned Edgar about the people of Outhenham, and memorized the names of the principal characters. Then she told him to walk at the back of the group entering the village, and remain inconspicuous until she called him forward.
As they arrived Ragna noted with pleasure that the place was affluent. Most houses had a pigsty, a henhouse, or a cowshed, and some had all three. Where there was prosperity there was always trade, she knew, and she guessed that Outhenham’s position at the mouth of the valley made it the natural marketplace for the district.
It would be her responsibility to maintain and increase that prosperity, for her own benefit as well as that of the people. Her father always said that nobles had duties as well as privileges.
