text: [Themes: mystery / thriller, mystery]
  
  The door burst open, and everyone spun to see who it was. "Lord Cynehelm is here," a guard said uncertainly, and the king waved him in.
  
  The little ealdorman entered, his face nervous, and bowed to Alfred. "I did not know, my lord, that you had called a meeting of your council." Then he noticed Wulf. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He stood like that, gaping, his eyes roving between the king and the man in black, until at last he sputtered "Is he on trial?"
  
  Alfred shook his head. "We were simply hearing his testimony about the murders. Why were you not in your chambers?"
  
  "I was investigating the killings, my lord, but I fear I still have little idea who is behind them."
  
  "Thank goodness," Alfred said, "or we would have three suspects. Aldric has accused you, and your man has accused him back. Neither one of them has provided much solid evidence."
  
  Suddenly Osfrid spoke. "Why don't we turn out our pockets? The traitor may have something incriminating."
  
  "Or maybe the traitor was clever enough to leave the evidence of his crimes at home," Wulf said quietly, but the king had nodded at the suggestion.
  
  There was nothing particularly interesting. Bishop Osfrid had some silver, a few scraps of parchment, a small golden cross, and a dagger, and Aldric had only a handful of coins. Wulf, of course, had nothing, and Cynehelm only some silver, a set of keys, and the Proslogion. The scribe peered at everything, his quill scratching as he wrote.
  
  "Hardly useful," Aldric said, but then Queen Ealhswith gave a great shriek. Her face had gone completely white, and she was trembling terribly, but she managed to raise a finger to point to Merwal's little book.
  
  "Sin lies upon the kingdom," she wailed, "guilt and damnation are everywhere!"
  
  Alfred looked alarmed, and he grabbed his wife's hand. "It is only a book," he said softly, but she kept crying. His gaze turned to Cynehelm, who shook his head in puzzlement. Everyone else was studiously examining the table, the walls- anything but the hysterical queen. She kept shouting about evil and the stain of sin, until, finally, Alfred stood. "Everyone leave," he said, his tone commanding and his eyes hard. "Everyone but Cynehelm."
  
  The ealdorman watched them file out. The clerk went first, clutching at his scroll, and then the bishop. Aldric stared at him as he left, his eyes bright but cold. The guards looked at the king, and he motioned for them to go, too. Wulf followed, and Cynehelm's nervousness grew. He could not explain the queen's behavior, and, though Wulf likely couldn't either, his presence would be some help. Besides, he was the one who had found the book in the first place.
  
  > let him leave
  Wulf gave Cynehelm an inquisitive look, but the ealdorman only nodded. By the time everyone had left, the queen had stopped shrieking. Now she was just swaying slightly, her lips moving in soundless prayer. Alfred took the book and flipped through its pages; his eyes narrowed to read. "I recognize this book. It is the Proslogion of Paulinus, an erroneous work indeed, but hardly worthy of inspiring such cries."
  
  Cynehelm took a deep breath, his hands trembling. "Wulf found it in the home of the merchant whose house is connected to the castle by the secret tunnel. I have just spoken with the merchant and his wife. They are convinced heretics and...and they accused Father Leofwine of sharing their heresy. They believe it is the reason he was killed."
  
  At the old priest's name, the queen began to weep again, shaking so violently that Alfred had to hold her steady. "Do they have any evidence of his heresy?"
  
  "No, my lord, but they had no reason to lie. It seems he would visit them and the other heretics by travelling through the passageway. He gathered a little flock but, they thought, someone discovered his beliefs and murdered him for them. He is a martyr, to hear them tell of it."
  
  "My dear," Alfred said, leaning close to his wife, "there is no need for these tears. We will find the man who killed Leofwine and bring him to justice, no matter what heresies the man may have believed."
  
  With a strangled yelp, Ealhswith pushed the king away. She rose, her eyes flying between the two men, and then her hand shot to the table to grab Osfrid's crucifix. "Forgive me," she shuddered, "forgive me, forgive me, forgive me..."
  
  Alfred understood first, and he took her hand, prying it from the cross and holding it tightly. "You knew of his heresy?" She nodded, still muttering for forgiveness, and he continued. "And you had him killed?" She nodded again, her eyes shut tight, and then she spoke, her voice barely intelligible through the sobs.
  
  "He showed me that...that wretched book, and he tried to convince me of his heretical doctrines. I trusted Leofwine, my oldest friend and my confessor since I was a girl, and he was a heretic all along!" She opened her eyes and looked up at Alfred, staring into his horrified eyes. "I knew he could not remain your chief councilor, but you are too kind, my dear, and I feared you would not remove him if you knew. I feared he would ensnare all of Wessex in his heresy. So, I paid his guards to cut his throat, and I made them swear they had seen no one enter Leofwine's chamber. It was not a lie!" she said desperately.
  
  Cynehelm felt light-headed. "And Grimbold and Ecgbald..."
  
  "No!" Ealhswith said, whirling to face him. "I did not kill them!" She fell into another round of sobs, but when she recovered, she continued. "At least, I did not order their deaths. It is my fault, though, all the killings. When I had Leofwine murdered, it brought the Devil to Winchester. I am sure of it. He tempted me to kill my oldest friend and convinced me that evil was good, and he killed the other two to punish my conscious. I have confessed, and I will go to the gallows a sinner. Have mercy on me!"
  
  Cynehelm simply stood, stunned, but Alfred spoke. His voice was flat, and it sounded more tired than they had ever heard. "You will not go to the gallows."
  
  The queen seemed to choke. "It is what I deserve. It is justice, the only thing that can cleanse my soul of the sin I have committed."
  
  Alfred squeezed her hand. "I will not put my wife to death, whatever your crimes. God will judge you on the last day, but I cannot. It is a weakness. I will send you to an abbey, and you will do penance for the murder as long as you live. Jesus is merciful, and you may yet atone for your sin." He walked to the door and knocked. A guard appeared. "Escort my lady to her chambers," he said slowly. "And bring the others back in in a minute."
  
  The guard nodded and led her out. Queen Ealhswith had stopped crying, but she had no words for any of them. Alfred sighed. "I thought when Leofwine turned up dead, it was a dark day for Wessex, but so much evil had occurred since then. It is hard to bear."
  
  Cynehelm was about to speak when they heard a cry from outside, then a loud crash. They rushed into the corridor to find the guards restraining Wulf. Bishop Osfrid and the scribe looked on nervously, and Aldric lay on the ground, knocked out. "What is the meaning of this?" the king said sharply.
  
  "He was trying to leave," Wulf said, his voice apologetic. "He kept muttering excuses, and I said I'd hit him if he tried to flee. He didn't listen and so I hit him."
  
  Alfred glanced at the bishop, who nodded. "Lord Aldric became very nervous, my lord. Not at all like himself. He ordered the men-at-arms to seize Wulf, but I overruled him."
  
  The king stared down at the young ealdorman. A lump had begun to form on his forehead. "You struck him well," he said quietly, and then he turned to the guards. "Take him into the council chamber and stay with him, all of you. Inform me as soon as he wakes up. The rest of us will head to his room. If he did order the murders of Grimbold and Ecgbald, I'd wager he left some trace of his deeds. And I fear that he did have them killed."
  
  "My evidence was not conclusive," Wulf said.
  
  "No, but why else would he try to flee? Aldric is a clever man. Too clever, you rightly said. He would not stick around if he was guilty. Perhaps he planned to defect to the Danes or escape to the Continent." Alfred sighed again. "Ambition is a true evil, and it lurked in Aldric's heart. I was a fool not to suspect him earlier. Now, my lords, we must search his room and all of Winchester if need be. Perhaps I am wrong, and Aldric is innocent, but after all that has happened, I do not think so."
  
  > A few days later
  Wulf did not have much interest in going to the hanging. He was pleased that the guilty would not escape justice, but he had not known Grimbold or Ecgbald, and watching their killer be put to death held little fascination for him.
  
  But Alfred had insisted, and Wulf decided that, since he had helped catch Aldric, he might as well stay and see the whole business finished. He was the one who found the secret compartment, dug into Aldric's wall and plastered over, that held a little scroll which detailed all of the young ealdorman's affairs. He recorded everything: his speculations on who really killed Father Leofwine and how he could best turn the situation to his own advantage, his conversations with the fat cook and Cynehelm's clerk, and even the locations where the two accomplices had been hiding. Yes, Aldric really was too clever for his own good. He could not resist documenting his own brilliance, Wulf supposed, and the evidence was more than enough to convince Alfred that he should be hanged.
  
  The execution was brief. Alfred made a simple speech, and Bishop Osfrid said a quick prayer for the condemned man's soul. Aldric did not speak, and his eyes, once so bright, were dull. He looked as though he could not quite believe what was happening. When they lifted him from the ground, he began to kick wildly, his thrashing for a minute before going limp. The crowd dispersed and the soldiers cut him down, and Wulf turned to leave the gallows and the city behind.
  
  Cynehelm caught up with him as he meandered through the remaining spectators. "Wulf! Wulf!" he shouted, out of breath when he arrived. "Where are you going?"
  
  The man in black looked at the little ealdorman, his hands fidgeting as usual but with a smile on his face in spite of everything that had happened. "Away," he said simply.
  
  Cynehelm's smile faded. "Why on Earth would you leave? Alfred wants you to stay, you know. He has a high regard for your abilities, and you could rise high in Winchester. He will at least reward you with some silver for your role in discovering what happened, and he hinted at far more. Aldric held extensive lands, and the king wants to give them to men who have proven themselves loyal."
  
  Wulf shook his head. "I don't care much about silver or land. I'm satisfied knowing that Leofwine and the others' killers have been brought to justice." His voice was even softer than usual, and he wondered whether his words were true. Wulf had been angry at the king at first for letting his wife live after what she had done, but the anger had cooled into understanding. Her guilt was punishment enough. "I want to go north, dangerous as it is. I was happy there once, and I may be happy there again. Besides," he said, gazing at the town below, "I don't like to be cooped up in one place."
  
  Cynehelm nodded, though his smile had not returned. "You will always have friends at court. Come back to Winchester if you ever need something to do or a place to stay."
  
  "I will," said Wulf, and then he turned and walked away from the gallows. Cynehelm watched him go, his thoughts on how many that he had known were now dead. Leofwine, Grimbold, Ecgbald, and now Aldric. The king was right to have spared Ealhswith, he thought. There would be plenty more slaughter, and soon, when Alfred's army clashed with the Danes. He wondered if Saewara and Merwal had made it to London alive. After they had beaten the heathens, he would go to the great city and search for then, Cynehelm decided. And if Wulf returned, perhaps he would come along. He would be glad for the companionship.