Wilburgh said: “More like three, now.”
“Yes,” said Ragna. “He’s three.”
“So you will be lord of all his lands for the next decade at least. In addition to the Vale of Outhen.”
“This depends on the king’s approval.”
“True, but I can’t imagine him doing anything else. Every nobleman in England will be watching to see how Ethelred handles this. They like to see wealth passed from father to son, because they want their own sons to inherit.”
Ragna sipped wine thoughtfully. “The king doesn’t have to do everything the nobles want, of course, but if he doesn’t they can make trouble.”
“Exactly.”
“But who will be named as the new ealdorman?”
“If it could be a woman, Ethelred would choose you. You have the wealth and status, and you’re known to be a fair judge. They call you Ragna the Just.”
“But a woman can’t be ealdorman.”
“No. Nor raise armies and lead them into battle against the Vikings.”
“So you will do that.”
“I’m going to propose to the king that he make me regent until Alain is old enough to rule as ealdorman. I will manage the defense of Shiring against Viking raids, and continue to collect taxes for the king. You will hold court, on behalf of Alain, in Shiring and Combe as well as Outhenham, and administer all the smaller courts. That way the king and the nobles get what they want.”
Ragna felt excited. She had no greed for wealth, perhaps because she had never lacked for money, but she was eager to gain the power to do good. She had long felt it was her destiny. And now she seemed on the brink of becoming the ruler of Shiring.
She found that she badly wanted the future that Den painted for her. She began to think about how to make sure of it.
“We should do more,” said Ragna. Her strategic brain was back on track. “Remember what Wynstan and Wigelm did after they killed Wilwulf? They took charge the very next day. No one had time to figure out how to stop them.”
Den looked thoughtful. “You’re right. They still needed royal approval, of course—but once they were in place it was difficult for Ethelred to dislodge them.”
“We should hold court tomorrow morning—in the ealdorman’s compound, in front of the great hall. Announce to the townspeople that you and I are taking charge—no, that we alreadyhavetaken charge—pending the king’s decision.” She thought for a minute. “The only opposition will come from Bishop Wynstan.”
“He’s ill, and losing his mind; and people know that,” Den said. “He’s not the power he once was.”
“Let’s make sure of that,” Ragna insisted. “When we go to the compound, you should take all your men with you, fully armed, a show of strength. Wynstan has no men-at-arms: he never needed them because his brothers had plenty. Now he has no brothers and no men. He may protest at our announcement, but there will be nothing he can do about it.”
“You’re right,” said Den. He looked at Ragna with an odd little smile.
She said: “What?”
He said: “You’ve just proved it. I made the right choice.”
In the morning Ragna could hardly wait to see Alain.
She forced herself not to hurry. This was a hugely important publicevent, and she had long ago learned the importance of giving the right impression. She washed thoroughly, to smell like a noblewoman. She let Osgyth do her hair in an elaborate style with a high hat, to make her even taller. She dressed carefully, in the richest clothes she had with her, to look as authoritative as possible.
But then she could not discipline herself any longer, and she went ahead of Sheriff Den.
The townspeople were already climbing the hill to the ealdorman’s compound. The news had evidently got around town already. No doubt Osgyth and Ceolwulf had talked last night of the events in Outhenham, and half the townspeople had heard the story—Ragna’s version—by morning. They were avid to learn more.
Den had written to the king last night, before going to bed, and his messenger had left already. It would be some time before a reply came: Den was not sure where the king was, and it could take the messenger weeks to find him.
Ragna went straight to Meganthryth’s house.
She saw Alain immediately. He was sitting at the table eating porridge with a spoon, watched by his grandmother, Gytha, and Meganthryth, plus two maids. Ragna realized with a shock that he was no longer a baby. He was taller, his dark hair was getting long, and his face had lost its pudgy roundness. He had the beginnings of the nose and chin that characterized the men of Wigelm’s family.
