“I have one more question.” He took her hands.
“Go ahead,” she said.
“Do you love me?”
“With all my heart.”
“Then I’m a happy man.”
He kissed her lips. She let her mouth linger on his for a long moment. Then he left.
CHAPTER 37
August 1003
ing Ethelred held court in the marketplace outside Shiring Cathedral. Every citizen was there, plus hundreds from the surrounding villages, and most of the noblemen and senior clergy in the region. Ragna’s bodyguards made a path through the crowd so that she could get to the front, where Wynstan and Wigelm and all the other magnates stood, waiting for the king. She knew most of the thanes and made a point of speaking to each. She wanted everyone to know she was back.
In front of the crowd stood two cushioned four-legged stools under a temporary canopy put up to shade the royals from the August sun. To one side was a table with writing materials, and two priests sitting ready to pen documents at the king’s command. They also had a stilyard balance to weigh large sums of money if the king imposed fines.
The townspeople were excited. Kings traveled from town to town all the time, but even so an ordinary English person seldom got to see one in the flesh. Everyone was keen to see whether he seemed in good health, and what his new queen was wearing.
A king was a remote personage. In theory he was all-powerful but, in practice, edicts issued from a faraway royal court might not be enforced. The decisions of local overlords often had more effect on everyday life. But that changed when the king came to town. It was hard for tyrants such as Wynstan and Wigelm to defy a royal edict that had been pronounced in front of thousands of local people. Victims of injustice hoped for restitution when the king came to visit.
At last Ethelred appeared with Queen Emma. The townspeople knelt and the noblemen bowed. Everyone made way for the royal couple to walk to their seats.
Emma at eighteen was young and pretty, much the same as when Ragna last saw her six years ago, except that now she was pregnant. Ragna smiled, and Emma recognized her immediately. To Ragna’s delight the queen came straight to her and kissed her. Speaking Norman French, she said: “How wonderful to see a familiar face!”
Ragna was thrilled to be acknowledged as the queen’s friend in front of the men who had treated her so cruelly. She replied in the same language. “Congratulations on your marriage. I’m so happy that you’re England’s queen.”
“We’re going to be such friends.”
“I hope so—if they don’t imprison me again.”
“They won’t—not if I can help it.” Emma turned away and moved to her seat. She spoke a word of explanation to Ethelred, who nodded and smiled at Ragna.
That was a good start. Ragna was heartened by Emma’s friendliness, but recalled with trepidation the wordsnot if I can help it.Clearly Emma was not sure she could control events. And she was young, perhaps too young to have learned the tricks Ragna knew.
Ethelred spoke in a loud voice, though even so he probably couldnot be heard by those on the outskirts of the crowd. “Our first and most important task is to choose a new ealdorman for Shiring.”
Aldred boldly interrupted. “My lord king, Ealdorman Wilwulf made a will.”
Bishop Wynstan called out: “Never ratified.”
Aldred said: “Wilwulf intended to show his will to you, my lord king, and to ask you to approve it—but before he could do so he was murdered in his bed right here in Shiring.”
Wynstan said scornfully: “Where is this will, then?”
“It was in the lady Ragna’s treasury, which was stolen minutes after Wilwulf died.”
“A nonexistent will, it seems.”
The crowd enjoyed this, a squabble between two men of God, right at the start of the court. But then Ragna spoke up. “On the contrary,” she said. “Several copies were made. Here is one, my lord king.” She took the folded parchment from the bosom of her dress and handed it to Ethelred.
He took it, but did not unroll it.
Wynstan said: “It doesn’t matter if a hundred copies were made—the will is invalid.”
Ragna said: “As you can see from the document, my lord king, it was my husband’s wish that you should make our eldest son, Osbert, ealdorman—”
