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Day Two
Gareth
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“Lord Douglas.” Rather than calling him by only his given name, Gareth chose to accord him his title, just to ensure his continued cooperation. Gareth’s promotion to Hywel’s steward, combined with the land he held now in Anglesey, had made him a lord of the same stature as Douglas, who essentially had risen to his station in precisely the same fashion as Gareth. “I was hoping to speak to you and your confederate here.”
Douglas’s brow furrowed. “I am quite busy now, Lord Gareth.” To his credit, he didn’t pause between his initial thought and saying Gareth’s name, unoffended by Gareth’s formality and returning it.
“It is regarding the body in the church.”
Douglas blinked. “Of course. It was on my duty list this morning to report to the king on the matter and then to come find you.” He looked past Gareth to where the king was deep in conversation with Earl Ranulf and Prince Henry. “The truth is, I did not find any men who had seen or heard anything amiss in the church’s vicinity last night. Even pressing them hard brought no change in their stories. Frankly, I saw no point in continuing. One can’t squeeze water from a stone.”
“One cannot. Thank you for trying.” Gareth hadn’t expected anything different, given that nobody had come forward before then, and by Douglas’s own admission, he had little experience with investigations. Gareth had other questions as well, namely about how well acquainted Douglas actually was with Aelred, but they could wait until after he’d spoken to Brian. “If I need to return to the matter with any of them, I hope I can say I have your consent.”
“You may.” Douglas jerked his head to his companion and took a step, implying that he should come with him and that the conversation was over.
Gareth, however, put out a hand. “If I may speak to—” He let the sentence hang, since Douglas hadn’t bothered to introduce him. Gareth himself had held a position similar to Brian’s for many years too and knew it wasn’t unusual to stand silently by while one’s betters talked.
“Brian MacGregor.” Douglas flapped a hand in his underling’s direction. “I use him as a messenger. He travels with me sometimes. Brian, this is Lord Gareth from Gwynedd.”
“My lord.” Brian bent in a bow.
“Thank you,” Gareth said to Douglas, not acknowledging Brian’s greeting just yet. “I won’t keep him long.”
A speculative look entered Douglas’s eyes, interested and wondering what possible reason Gareth could have for speaking to Brian. But he was too polite—and maybe too preoccupied—to ask.
Once Douglas had departed, Gareth tipped his head to indicate an empty table in the back of the hall. Nearby were a serving pitcher and two cups, and he poured out ale for both of them. Since his arrival, as with Douglas, Gareth had been more than usually aware of the status of everyone in King David’s hall, and while he didn’t want to undermine his own station, he wanted Brian at his ease for what he was about to ask him. Gareth gestured him to a seat at the end of the table and sat opposite, each now with a cup.
As Gareth took a sip of his ale, Brian did as well, despite being obviously hesitant about why Gareth wanted to speak to him. After swallowing, he cleared his throat. “How may I assist you, my lord?”
Gareth had been deliberating internally as to the proper approach, and he decided he would first try to go roundabout in his questions to get the answers he needed. “It is my understanding that you carry messages from Lord Douglas to King David and back again, and have done so for the last three months.”
“That is true, my lord.” Brian’s face was open and guileless. “And it’s been far longer than three months. I have ridden from here to Edinburgh and Stirling, Dundee and Inverness, and many places in the south. I’ve been to Chester several times.”
“I have heard that you also carry messages for others, perhaps soldiers who want to reassure their loved ones that they are well or from loved ones to soldiers in the field.”
Brian wet his lips. “Yes. That is true. It makes no sense for a man to ride all that way and not carry many messages.”
Gareth put up a hand. “I am not suggesting there is anything untoward in this task. I assume Lord Douglas knows you do this. It must be common knowledge among the general population, soldiers and loved ones, as well.”
“Yes.” Brian was more confident now. “Do you need a message carried? Is that why you pulled me aside?”
“I do.”
“I am happy to oblige.” Brian looked expectant.
Gareth would also have said he bore a tinge of superiority at the oddness of the nobility, and Gareth in particular, for making so much of such a small task.
“I would like to send a note to a soldier, one named Aelred, from whom I understand you have brought messages to Carlisle over the last three months—to at least two different women.”
Brian sat frozen in his seat. “I-I-I don’t know any Aelred and have never carried any messages for him.”
“Haven’t you?”
“No.” This was said more firmly as Brian warmed to the lie, which was why Gareth had asked him a second time to confirm.
Denial was an interesting choice, given the other possible responses. Because of it, Gareth studied the other man carefully. Brian could merely have said, in a casual tone, that he knew the man and would be happy to carry any message to him. Gareth then would have asked if he’d heard that Lord Douglas had identified the body in the church as Aelred, which would have presented Brian with a whole different problem. The fact that Brian had not only denied carrying messages for Aelred but also denied that he knew him, revealed, more than anything, that all was not well with the messages he had carried. He also hadn’t reacted to the name as if he knew about the identity of the body in the church.
Gareth kept his gaze fixed on Brian, who looked steadily back, giving nothing away. In this moment, his commitment to his lie was absolute. Gareth needed to change that. The question was how.
“You do know him. I have two witnesses that will attest to Lord Douglas, or to the king, if necessary, that you brought items from Aelred to each of them. One was a note written in his own hand.”
In the face of the truth, Brian was unable to keep his eyes on Gareth’s face and dropped them to his cup. It was both an instinctive response to being caught in a lie and a sure sign he was about to lie again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, my lord. The young ladies must be mistaken.”
Gareth let the pause following that comment lengthen before pointing out Brian’s obvious mistake, which by now Brian himself must have recognized, as evidenced by his flushing skin and the sweat beading on his temple. It gave some comfort to Gareth that the messenger wasn’t a natural liar. “How did you know they were young women?”
“It-it-it seemed obvious.”
“It would have been more obvious that one was his mother.” Rather than press further on this particular matter, which he’d conquered anyway, Gareth changed tack. “I assume you’ve heard about the body in the church.”
Brian had no reply to that but a nod. At this point, he was afraid of saying anything at all out of fear of incriminating himself further. If Gareth was to get him to talk, he had to break through his reluctance as well as any new barrier Brian might be busily putting up. With his tensed shoulders and set jaw, he had the look of defending the fortress he’d constructed to his dying breath.
The unfortunate thing about hastily built fortresses, however, was that they could be rickety. Sometimes they had no foundation at all.
“Lord Douglas thinks the dead man is Aelred. If so, he died some three months ago, and it’s a little difficult to see how he could have been sending tokens from Worcester to Carlisle.”
While Brian was incapable of looking directly at Gareth now, he also knew better than to look down, away, or around the room. In his mind, everything he did would appear suspicious. So he hesitated. And hesitated again.
Men who are fundamentally honest have two choices when caught in a lie: to double down on the lie in hopes of weathering the storm, or to face the wind and rain. Brian had tried the initial strategy already. To Gareth’s relief, and possibly Brian’s as well, he chose the latter option now.
Leaning forward, he lowered his voice to barely a whisper. “I’ll tell you, but I beg you not to tell Lord Douglas what I’ve done.”
“If I don’t need to tell him, I won’t, provided you had nothing to do with Aelred’s death.”
“I didn’t!” Brian’s agitation was such that he almost shouted the word, prompting him to look hastily around for anyone who might have overheard.
It was well known to everyone by now that Gareth was leading the investigation into the body in the church. Some residents of the castle might be avoiding their table as a way to disassociate themselves from murder, as if the stain of it could rub off on them. Others, and perhaps most, longed to know what was happening.
Gareth reached for the carafe and poured more ale into both their cups, affecting as casual an attitude as he could manage, despite the beating of his own heart now that he had a real hope to hear something that would help move the investigation forward. “Then you have nothing to fear.”
Brian closed his eyes briefly. “I didn’t know Aelred was dead until the body appeared in the church. I was just doing as he asked me. You have to believe me.”
Gareth did, but he didn’t let Brian off the hook just yet. “What did he ask you?”
“To deliver the tokens to three women on my return journeys. I spaced them out so it would look like he was still in Worcester if anyone inquired.”
“Three women?”
“Joanna, Bronwen, and Mariota, Aelred’s betrothed.”
Gareth bobbed a nod. Mariota was the only one they had left to speak to, and his sons and Hamelin even now were on their way to fetch her. “He paid you?”
“He did indeed! A goodly sum!” Brian waggled his head, and Gareth understood before he continued what the source of his guilt had been. “Lord Douglas knows that I carry messages for common folk. He encourages it, but he says I am paid for the journey by King David and should not be taking payment from anyone else.”
Gareth eased back on the bench. “But you do anyway.”
“Not often! But Aelred was insistent, and it was four whole pence! I couldn’t say no to that. It was such a small thing too.”
“When did he pay you this money?”
“It was the day before we left for Worcester—which, if what they are saying is true about the body, has to be close to when he died.” His shoulders sagged as the tension caused by the secret he’d been carrying eased. “I knew Aelred wasn’t in Worcester; I didn’t know he was dead.” His eyes were in his cup.
“I never met Aelred in life, so I can only guess as to his motives. What did you think he was doing?”
“It was obvious to me that he planned to desert,” Brian shrugged, “and for some reason he didn’t want any of his women to know. That’s why I wasn’t concerned that he didn’t come to Worcester. I didn’t even know he hadn’t marched with us until some time after we arrived. I actually went looking for him before I left for my first journey back to Carlisle, and I was told he had deserted. Since I’d expected it, I simply did as he asked. He’d paid me, you see ....” His voice trailed off.
“You didn’t think this was something you ought to mention to Lord Douglas?”
“What Aelred chose to do with his life was his business, not mine. I barely knew the man. In fact, before that day, I hadn’t spoken more than two words to him in passing. We ran in different circles.”
“How so?”
Brian’s eyes narrowed. Now that the burden of deception was lifted, he was more talkative, but his mind was also beginning to work. “I am of higher rank, an officer. He was a soldier and nothing more. He would never be anything more.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Hasn’t anyone told you the truth about him yet? Perhaps not, since nobody likes to speak ill of the dead.” Brian shrugged. “Well I’ll say it even if nobody else will. He was the runt of the litter—not in size, don’t get me wrong. He was built like any other man, and probably handsome at that, which is why women liked him so much, but he was never going to win any sheepherding contest. Nobody would ever be confused about how little was going on in Aelred’s head.”
“And yet, he conceived this plan to desert and had the foresight to arrange for tokens to be sent back to his women to hide that fact?”
Brian canted his head. “I wondered about that too. He was different that day. More confident. Less self-effacing. I remember thinking if you took that attitude to your work, you’d make something of yourself. But then he gave me the money and what he wanted me to bring to his ladies, and left.”
“Where did this interaction take place?”
“In the church graveyard—” He broke off as a shocked look crossed his face. “Do you think—”
Gareth chose not to speculate with him. “Where did he get the money?”
“I didn’t ask.” The shrug this time was definitive.
After his initial lies, Brian had been open and as honest as his conscience allowed. He might not have wanted to know where Aelred acquired a week’s wages to pay out for carrying messages, but Gareth surely did.
