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Day Two
Gareth
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To have two knighting ceremonies within twelve hours of one another was an unusual enough occurrence that the great hall was packed with people once again, seemingly all diving into the morning meal with hearty appetites. It might even be that more residents of the castle were present than had been in the hall the previous evening, though Gareth would never say such a thing to Prince Henry.
The residents’ interest wouldn’t derive from a lack of respect for the prince himself anyway. It was rather that the knighting of Llelo and Hamelin represented an entirely different prospect. There was never a moment’s concern that Prince Henry would not one day become a knight. The fate of these two young men, on the other hand, both of whom had been disadvantaged by their births, was a bard’s tale come true.
Although he’d found his bed after midnight, Gareth had made sure to rise when the monks said their morning prayers so that he could be standing outside the keep’s chapel when the priest arrived to say mass and give the young men communion.
It hadn’t been any hardship to wait: this level of the keep was composed of sleeping chambers, the chapel, and a small central room with a fireplace, before which he’d sat on a stool and dozed until it was time for the ceremony.
Gareth had been under the impression that Father Dunstan would be officiating today, but the Bishop of Carlisle himself had appeared out of the stairwell, coming up from the lower level.
“Your Grace,” Gareth had bowed. “I had no idea you would be here this morning, or I would have provided an escort from the church.”
Though of Saxon origins, obvious because of his name, Æthelwold was educated, as he would be, and spoke perfect French, which was the language Gareth had been speaking. “I had no need of an escort, my son, not with God as my protector.”
It was a platitude Gareth had come to expect from churchmen. Still, it was a little disappointing to hear something so trite from the mouth of a bishop. But then, as Æthelwold continued to look gravely at Gareth, he realized that the bishop was completely serious and meant what he said.
Gareth bent his head. “Of course.”
As Æthelwold turned towards the chapel doorway, beside which Dai remained at attention, Dunstan came huffing up the steps. “My apologies, Your Grace, if I kept you waiting. I overslept.”
“I heard this morning from several of my flock that you had a late night, Father Dunstan. You have nothing for which to apologize.”
And then King David arrived too, having simply stepped out of his chamber, which took up most of the north side of this floor of the keep. His appearance should not have been unexpected, since it must have been he who asked for the bishop, but it was still an honor. It also showed his attention to detail regarding the goings-on in his castle, and for these young men in his charge.
“Well, then, if everyone is here.” The bishop gestured to Dai, who opened the door to the chapel and ushered everyone through it, with something of a lesser flourish compared to his behavior with Llelo and Hamelin the evening before.
The chapel had been awash with light, less from the candles Dai had kept lit on the altar, than from the sunlight flooding the room. This time of year, the sky was light sixteen hours a day, so the sun had risen some two hours earlier. Both young men had remained prone on the floor in the shape of a cross, as they supposedly had been all night, though Gareth himself knew the truth from his earlier hasty, and whispered, conversation with Dai.
“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” Bishop Æthelwold made the sign of the cross. “Rise, my sons, for today you enter the brotherhood of knights.”
The young men hadn’t stirred when the chapel door had opened, but now they popped to their feet side-by-side, making Gareth suppress a laugh.
“We are ready, your grace,” Hamelin said.
The bishop progressed to the altar and then, assisted by Father Dunstan and with King David, Gareth, Dai, and Prince Henry (who arrived a moment later, somewhat breathless) looking on, said mass and administered communion to the young men. Then, once they were cleansed, he led the way out the door and down to the hall where the knighting ceremony would take place.
This time, instead of King David, it was Henry doing the honors. He wore robes worthy of the king he one day hoped to be, and said the words of knighthood, using the sword he’d given Llelo and backhanding him across the face with real ferocity. He’d clearly wanted to do the job right. At no point did Llelo’s eyes dim, even as he rocked back at the force of the blow.
Both young men broke their fast next to Henry at the high table. Once the meal ended, however, they hastened to where Llelo’s family waited for them, accepting along the way the congratulations of the other diners, who reached out hands to them as they passed.
Llelo presented himself first to his mother for inspection, and once she’d hugged him sufficiently, he turned to Gareth. “We are ready to begin work.”
“We?” Gareth raised his eyebrows and looked past his son to Hamelin, who was nodding vigorously. “No resting on your laurels for the two of you?”
Hamelin stepped closer. “I have leave from my brother to aid the investigation in any way I can. Llelo and I worked well together last time, so we thought ...” He left the sentence hanging.
Gareth was charmed by their enthusiasm and saw no reason to dissuade them of something they’d clearly worked out together. “Of course.” He looked his son up and down, wanting to give him a task worthy of his new station and to indicate his respect. “According to Lord Douglas, Aelred’s mother and his betrothed live in a village outside of Carlisle. What do you say to riding there together, the two of you as well as Dai, to speak to them? They will have to be informed of his death.”
Gareth could see that he’d chosen exactly right. The duty was grave and important and not one Llelo perhaps would have chosen for himself. But he was Sir Llelo now, and no task, even one as terrifying as this, was too great.
“What’s more,” Gwen put in, “we would like you to bring them back to Carlisle. The village is five miles away. Hopefully, you will be able to return before sunset when Father Dunstan wants to bury Aelred again. We can’t bury him until they see the body. The sun sets late here, so you should have time.”
Llelo was aghast. “You’re going to show it to them?”
“We have to.” Gwen sighed. “Last night Dai learned from one of the serving girls that Aelred was betrothed to a kitchen worker here, Bronwen. I have since spoken to her at length, and she insists the body cannot be his. She will have to see it too.”
Hamelin leaned closer. “Did I just hear you say that Aelred was betrothed to two separate women?”
Gareth was about to answer in the affirmative, when he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Conall above him, shaking his head. “Not two, my friend. Three.” He gestured to a tall, auburn-haired woman who’d come with him. She was approximately thirty, with porcelain skin and gray eyes rimmed with red from crying. “Joanna here was betrothed to him too.”
