Neither had ever been to the hunting lodge. Fire or no fire, it had not been used for years. Wilwulf had gone away to war and come back severely wounded, and after his death Wigelm had hunted elsewhere.
But they knew roughly where it must be. Between Dreng’s Ferry and Stumpy’s there had to be a track leading away from the roadinto the forest to the south. All Edgar and Aldred had to do was find it. If the lodge truly had burned and was no longer in use then the task would be difficult: the entrance to the side track would be overgrown and hard to see. But if the story of the fire was a lie intended to divert suspicion, and people were still using the track to get to the lodge, to bring supplies—and a midwife—then there would be a roadside gap visible where the undergrowth had been trodden down and saplings had been damaged or destroyed.
Edgar and Aldred made several fruitless excursions, along tracks leading to isolated cottages, homesteads, and one small village that neither man had ever heard of. They were almost at Stumpy’s when Edgar noticed a place where several horses had passed today: there were freshly snapped twigs on the bushes and recent droppings on the path. His heart beat faster and he said: “I think this could be it.”
They turned in. The path got narrower but the evidence of recent passage became stronger. Now Edgar began to feel fear as well as hope. He might find Ragna, but if he did he would also come across Wynstan, and what would Wynstan do? Beside Edgar, Aldred looked unafraid, but he probably thought God would protect him.
The woods were full of lush new growth. Every minute or two Edgar glimpsed a deer moving silently through the dappled shadows, evidence that there had been no hunting here recently. Progress slowed. Where low branches overhung the path they had to dismount. They walked a mile, then another.
Then Edgar heard the voices of children.
They tied up their horses and walked forward slowly, trying to make no noise. They approached the edge of a clearing and stopped in the shadow of a massive oak.
Edgar recognized the children right away: the four-year-old boywas Osbert, the two-year-old twins were Hubert and Colinan, and the little girls were Cat’s daughters, Mattie, who was four, and Edie, two. Although pale, they looked well enough otherwise, running around after a ball.
However, Cat’s appearance shocked him. Her black hair was lank and lifeless and her skin was blemished. There was a boil on the side of her tip-tilted nose. Worst of all, the spark of mischief had gone from her eyes and her expression was lethargic. She stood with her shoulders slumped, watching the children without apparent interest.
Edgar looked past Cat to the timber house behind her. Its windows had been boarded over so that the shutters could not be opened. The door was secured from the outside by a heavy bar, and a guard sat nearby on a bench, looking the other way and picking his nose. Edgar recognized him as a Shiring boy called Elfgar. His right arm was covered with a dirty bandage.
There were several more buildings and a field where horses grazed, presumably the mounts of Wynstan and his men.
Aldred whispered: “This is the secret prison. We should leave now, before we’re seen. We can go to Shiring and fetch Den.”
Edgar knew Aldred was right, but now that he was this close he could not tear himself away. “I have to see Ragna,” he said.
“You don’t need to. She must be here. It’s dangerous to linger.”
“You go and fetch Den. I don’t care if they imprison me for a few days.”
“Don’t be such a fool!”
Their murmured conversation was interrupted by a loud voice from behind: “Who the hell are you?”
Both turned. The speaker was a man-at-arms called Fulcric. He had a spear in his hand and a long dagger in a wooden sheathhanging from his belt. Scars on his hands and face showed he had survived many fights. Edgar realized at once that physical resistance would be useless.
Aldred adopted an authoritative tone. “I am Prior Aldred and I’m here to speak to the lady Ragna,” he said.
“You’ll speak to Bishop Wynstan before you see anyone else,” said Fulcric.
“Very well,” said Aldred, as if he had a choice.
“Over there.” Fulcric nodded toward a house on the far side of the clearing.
Edgar turned and stepped out of the trees. “Hello, Cat,” he said quietly. “How are you?”
Cat gave a little cry of shock. “Edgar!” She looked around with a frightened expression. “This is dangerous for you.”
“Never mind,” he said. “Is Ragna here?”
“Yes.” Cat hesitated. “She’s pregnant.”
So it was true. “I heard a rumor.”
He was about to ask when the baby was due when Elfgar awoke from his reverie, jumped to his feet, and said: “Hey, you!”
Fulcric said: “You’re half asleep, boy. They were hiding in the trees.”
Edgar said: “You know me, Elfgar. I mean no harm. What happened to your arm?”
