Page 193 of The Evening and the Morning
That would have to be enough.
Ragna spoke to Sheriff Den as soon as she got back to Shiring. She was eager to catch Ironface, who was a blight on the entire district.And Wilf would be very pleased to come home and find she had solved that problem—the kind of thing Carwen could never achieve.
The sheriff was equally keen, and agreed with her that Offa might provide clues to the whereabouts of the outlaw. They decided to question Offa the following morning.
Ragna just hoped she was not going to learn that Agnes and Offa were guilty of something, perhaps receiving stolen property.
At dawn the next day Ragna met Den outside the home of Offa and Agnes. It had been raining all night and the ground was sodden. Den was accompanied by Captain Wigbert, two other men-at-arms, and two servants with shovels. Ragna wondered what the shovels were for.
Agnes opened the door. When she saw the sheriff and his men, she looked frightened.
Ragna said: “Is Offa here?”
“What on earth do you want Offa for, my lady?”
Ragna felt sorry for her, but had to be stern. Ragna was the ruler of the ealdormanry, and she could not show indulgence during a criminal inquiry. She said: “Be quiet, Agnes, and speak when you’re spoken to. You’ll find out everything soon enough. Now let us in.”
Wigbert told the two men-at-arms to stay outside but beckoned the servants to follow him.
Ragna saw that the house was comfortably furnished, with wall hangings to keep out the draughts, a bed with a mattress, and a row of metal-rimmed cups and bowls on a table.
Offa sat up in bed, threw off a thick wool blanket, and stood up. “What’s the matter?”
Ragna said: “Agnes, show the sheriff the ring you were wearing in Outhenham.”
“I still have it on.” She held out her left hand to Den.
Ragna said: “Offa, where did you get this?”
He thought for a moment, scratching his twisted nose, as if he was trying to remember—or thinking of a plausible story. “I bought it in Combe.”
“Who sold it to you?” She was hoping to be given the name of a jeweler, but she was disappointed.
“A French sailor,” said Offa.
If this was a lie, it was a clever one, Ragna thought. A particular Combe jeweler could have been questioned, but a foreign sailor could not be found.
She said: “His name?”
“Richard of Paris.”
It was a name you might make up on the spur of the moment. There were probably hundreds of men called Richard of Paris. She began to feel suspicious of Offa, but she hoped for Agnes’s sake that her suspicions were unfounded. She said: “Why was a French sailor selling women’s jewelry?”
“Well, he told me he had bought it for his wife, then regretted the purchase when he lost all his money at dice.”
Ragna could usually tell when people were lying, but she could not read Offa. She said: “Where had Richard of Paris bought the ring?”
“I assumed he got it from a Combe jeweler, but he didn’t say. What is this about? Why are you questioning me? I paid sixty pennies for that ring. Is there something wrong?”
Ragna guessed that Offa must have known or at least suspected that the ring was stolen property, but wanted to protect whoever had sold it to him. She was not sure what to ask next. After a pause, Den took over. Turning to the two servants he said brusquely: “Search the house.”
Ragna was not sure how that would help. They needed to loosen Offa’s tongue, not search his home.
There were two locked chests and several boxes storing food. Ragna watched patiently while the servants went through everything thoroughly. They patted down the clothing hanging from pegs, dipped into a barrel of ale all the way to the bottom, and overturned all the rushes on the floor. Ragna was not sure what they were looking for, but in any event they found nothing of interest.
Ragna was relieved. She wanted Offa to be innocent, for Agnes’s sake.
Then Den said: “The fireplace.”
