Page 162 of The Evening and the Morning

Aldred screamed when he came round, and continued to scream for several minutes. Eventually his cries became groans. Someone madehim drink strong wine, but that only made him feel confused as well as terrified.

When at last the panic subsided and he was able to focus, he looked at his leg. There was a hole in his calf the size of a robin’s egg and the flesh was charred black. It hurt like hell. The metal that had done the damage had cooled and fallen to the floor, he guessed.

One of the priests’ women brought ointment for his wound but he refused it: there was no telling what pagan magic ingredients had gone into it, bats’ brains or crushed mistletoe or blackbird droppings. Spotting the trustworthy Edgar, he asked him to warm some wine and pour it into the hole to cleanse it, then find a clean rag.

Just before passing out, Aldred had seen a large splash of molten metal land on Godwine’s face. Sheriff Den now told him that Godwine had died, and Aldred could understand how. A small drop of the molten metal had instantly made a hole in Aldred’s leg, so the quantity that had hit Godwine’s face must have burned all the way through to his brain in no time.

“I’ve arrested Degbert and Cuthbert,” Den said. “I’ll keep them prisoners until the trial.”

“What about Wynstan?”

“I hesitate to arrest a bishop. I don’t want to turn the entire Church establishment against me. But it’s not really necessary: Wynstan isn’t likely to run away, and if he does, I’ll catch him.”

“I hope you’re right. I’ve known him for years and I have never seen such a fit seize him. He’s gone beyond ordinary wickedness. He seems possessed.”

“I think you’re right,” said Den. “This is a new level of evil. But don’t worry. We’ve caught him just in time.”

CHAPTER 22

October 998

here would be repercussions, Edgar knew. Wynstan would not accept what had happened. He would fight back, and he would be merciless with those involved in the exposure of his crime. Edgar felt fear like a small, hard growth in his belly. Just how much danger was he in?

He had played an important role, but always clandestinely. During the raid he had been out of sight, and only when the excitement was over had he appeared at the minster with a group of curious villagers. He would not have been noticed by Wynstan, he felt sure.

He was wrong.

Wynstan’s clerk, Ithamar, with the round face and white-blond hair, came to Dreng’s Ferry a week after the raid. After Mass he made an administrative announcement: in Degbert’s absence the eldest of the priests remaining at the minster, Father Deorwin, had been appointed acting dean. It hardly seemed worth the trip from Shiring when a letter would have done just as well.

As the congregation was leaving the little church, Ithamar approached Edgar, who was with his family: Erman, Eadbald, Cwenburg, andsix-month-old baby Winnie. Ithamar did not bother with polite small talk. He said bluntly to Edgar: “You’re a friend of Brother Aldred from Shiring Abbey.”

Was this the real reason for Ithamar’s trip? Edgar felt a shiver of fear. He said: “I don’t know why you would say that.”

Erman put in stupidly: “Because you are, idiot.”

Edgar wanted to punch him in the face. He said: “No one’s speaking to you, Erman, so keep your fool mouth shut.” He turned back to the clerk. “I know the monk, certainly.”

“You bathed his wound after he was burned.”

“As anyone would. Why do you ask?”

“You’ve been seen with Aldred here in Dreng’s Ferry, at Shiring, and at Combe; and I myself saw you with him at Outhenham.”

Ithamar was saying that Edgar knew Aldred, that was all. Ithamar did not seem to know that he had actually been Aldred’s spy. So what was this about? He decided to ask outright. “What point are you making, Ithamar?”

“Are you going to be one of Aldred’s oath helpers?”

So that was it. Ithamar’s mission was to find out who Aldred’s oath helpers were going to be. Edgar felt relieved. It could have been a lot worse.

He said: “I haven’t been asked to be an oath helper.”

This was true, but not completely honest. Edgar fully expected to be asked. When an oath helper had personal knowledge of the facts in the case, it added weight to his vow. And Edgar had been in the workshop and seen the metals, the dies, and the freshly minted coins, so his oath would be helpful to Aldred—and damaging to Wynstan.

Ithamar knew this. “You will be asked, almost certainly,” he said.His rather childish face twisted with malice. “And when that happens, I recommend you refuse.”

Erman spoke again. “He’s right, Edgar,” he said. “People like us should stay out of priests’ quarrels.”

“Your brother is wise,” said Ithamar.