Page 113 of The Evening and the Morning
“My lady, I beg permission to ask Agnes to be my wife.”
“You are the reeve of Mudeford.”
“But I have a house in Shiring. Agnes can still take care of your clothes.”
Agnes added hastily: “If you so wish, my lady.”
“I do,” Ragna said. “And I’m glad to give my consent to your marriage.”
They thanked her profusely. Sometimes, Ragna reflected, it was very easy to make people happy.
At last the group moved out. Ragna stood and waved them out of sight.
She would probably never see any of them again.
She did not allow herself to linger on her sense of loss. What did she need to do next? She decided to deal with Dunnere the carpenter. She was not going to put up with his slackness, even if he was Gytha’s nephew.
She returned to her house and sent Bern to fetch Dunnere and his men. To receive them she sat on the kind of seat her father had used for formal occasions, a four-legged stool in the shape of a broad rectangle, with a cushion for comfort.
There were three carpenters: Dunnere, Edric, and Edric’s son Hunstan. She did not invite them to sit. “From now on,” she said, “you will go into the forest once a week to fell trees.”
“What for?” Dunnere said sullenly. “We get wood when we need it.”
“You’re going to have a stockpile, which will reduce delays.”
Dunnere looked mutinous, but Edric said: “That’s a good idea.”
Ragna marked him down as more conscientious than Dunnere.
She said: “What’s more, you’re going to do it on the same day every week—Friday.”
“Why?” said Dunnere. “One day’s as good as another.”
“It’s to help you remember.” In truth it was to help her keep tabs on them.
Dunnere was not ready to give in. “Well, then, what if someone wants a repair done on a Friday? Milly, say, or Gytha?”
“You’ll be gone from here so early that you won’t know. You can take your breakfast with you. But if anyone asks you to do something different on a Friday—Milly or Gytha or anyone else—you just tell them to come and see me, because I’m in charge of you, and you’re not allowed to change the schedule without my permission. Is that clear?”
Dunnere sulked, but Edric said: “Very clear, mistress, thank you.”
“You may go now.”
They trooped out.
She knew this would cause trouble, but it was necessary. However, she would be wise to defend herself against a counterattack. Gytha might go behind Ragna’s back and complain to Wilf. Ragna needed to make sure of his response in that event.
She left the house, heading for Wilf’s place. She passed the house her men-at-arms had lived in for the last twelve weeks, empty now: she would need to think about what should be done with it.
She was surprised to see a woman she did not recognize coming out of the place. She did not yet know everyone in Shiring, but thisparticular person was striking. In her thirties, she wore tight clothing and red shoes, and she had a lot of wild-looking hair that was not quite tamed under a large soft hat. Respectable women did not show much hair in public, and although a few stray locks might be overlooked, the woman in the red shoes was pushing the boundary of decorum. Yet she appeared unembarrassed, and walked with a confident stride. Ragna was curious to speak to her, but at that moment she caught sight of Wilf. She postponed speaking to the woman and followed him into his house.
As always, he kissed her enthusiastically. Then he said: “I have to go to Wigleigh today. I need to make sure they’ve paid the correct rents to Dean Degbert.”
She said: “I’ve told our carpenters to go into the forest and fell a tree every Friday. They need a stockpile, so that they can do repairs without delay.”
“Good thinking,” said Wilf with a touch of impatience. He did not like to be bothered with domestic issues.
Ragna said: “I mention the carpenters to you only because Dunnere is a problem. He’s lazy and he’s a drunk.”
