Gwen
“He surely does owe her—more than any husband ever has,” Gwen said the next afternoon once Hywel finally had a moment’s peace to relate to her and Gareth the entire conversation with Susanna. “Unfortunately, that doesn’t help us with who killed Erik, stole him, or set the barn on fire. And we still haven’t been able to determine whether Deiniol was involved in these thefts or just Lwc.”
“Deiniol and Rhodri claim never to have seen each other before, either on the road to St. Asaph or otherwise,” Hywel said, “so it may well be that the burned body in the barn is Erik’s friend—not that Deiniol recognized him either.”
“The body was badly burned,” Gwen pointed out.
They were talking in the common room of the guesthouse, just the three of them. Last Gwen had seen, Conall and Evan had been at the top of the gatehouse tower, keeping an eye on the comings and goings of men in and out of the monastery. With the peace conference over, Sunday mass celebrated, and the celebratory feast eaten, most of Owain’s men had gone back to the camp in order to oversee to the dispersal of the army. The spring planting and lambing called to them. Nobody was sorry to be going home.
Gwen had seen King Owain in passing that morning, and he had been in high good humor, despite the fact that everything Susanna had said at the conclave was a lie, and he knew it. But he’d played his part. Susanna had saved Hywel from Madog at Dinas Bran, and she was coming to stay at Llanfaes, across the Menai Strait and within sight of Aber. In one sweeping gesture, she’d given Owain breathing room to get his barons back in order and saved her husband from having to fight a war he might not win.
In fact, the two kings had reconciled to such an extent that they’d accepted Prior Rhys’s suggestion that they betrothe Madog’s daughter, Marared, to Iorwerth, King Owain’s son, as a means to further secure the peace. Not only had neither young person objected, but for once it looked as if an arranged marriage would be a happy event for all parties. The church wouldn’t put up any barriers either, since Marared was Madog’s daughter only, and thus not Iorwerth’s first cousin.
Although Gwen was happy that Gwynedd wasn’t going to war against Powys, she had lain awake much of the night listening to her family breathe and thinking long and hard about the way the investigation had stalled out. They still had two bodies on their hands, and it seemed time for some drastic action. “I’ve had an idea, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
“What is it? I can tell you that there are few things I like less than having a murderer roaming free in Gwynedd,” Hywel said.
“What if we let Deiniol and Lwc go?” Gwen said.
Hywel coughed a laugh. “Why would we do that?”
“Because we could follow them and see what they do—and if they do it together. We have only Lwc’s word that Deiniol is involved. I, personally, am not satisfied that Lwc is telling the whole truth.” She threw out a hand to point beyond the walls. “Somewhere out there still is the band of men who stole Erik’s body. What if they are the men who sacked Wrexham, and they came here to do the same thing? What if they’re simply waiting for the army to leave so they can sack the monastery? We shouldn’t be leaving it unguarded.”
“I haven’t forgotten them, and you’re right about the guards. At the very least, we can’t leave until we bring this investigation to a conclusion.” Hywel leaned back against the stones beside the fireplace.
Gareth’s expression turned thoughtful. “What if we enlist Rhodri’s help? Madog left him in our charge without stipulating that we keep him imprisoned.”
“The boy might want a chance at redemption.” Hywel canted his head towards Gareth. “Why don’t you go get him and let’s see?”
Gareth stood. “It would be my pleasure.” He strode from the room.
Hywel looked at Gwen, and she had the sudden sense that he had wanted to speak to her alone. “When this investigation is over, I want you to ride to Dolwyddelan to be with Mari. I want you to bring Saran with you.”
Gwen looked at him warily. “She had nothing to do with this, Hywel. She’s an old friend.”
“Whose sister was nursemaid to the royal house of Powys, and who came looking for her just as these events were taking place.” He put up a hand. “But that’s not why I want her at Dolwyddelan. Last week when we were there, Gruffydd had a cough I didn’t like. I know you trust her healing skills, and I want her to look at him.”
Gwen had known that she’d been on borrowed time in regards to staying with Gareth beyond these last weeks, and she was opening her mouth to agree to Hywel’s request when the outside door opened and King Owain himself entered the room. He was alone, which was rare enough to remark upon, though neither Gwen nor Hywel did. Both got immediately to their feet.
“My lord.” Gwen curtseyed.
“Father.” Hywel straightened first. “What is it?”
“Your Aunt Susanna has already left for Llanfaes.”
Hywel drew in a breath. “I was waiting for her, hoping to speak to her one more time.”
“You can visit her at the convent,” Owain said. “For now, you have something more important to attend to.”
“I know. You want me to ride with you to Mold—”
King Owain was shaking his head before Hywel had finished his sentence. “She has paid the sarhad as her debt for the attempt on your life. It includes a patch of land a mile to the south of St. Asaph that came with her on her marriage as part of her dowry. She said you would want to inspect it.” He handed Hywel a rolled up piece of parchment. “Taran has already made over the land to you.”
Hywel took the deed his father offered and unrolled it. “What is this about?”
King Owain spread his hands wide. “I don’t know anything more than I’ve told you.”
“What exactly did she say?”
King Owain pursed his lips as he thought and then said, “Tell my nephew that if he and that fine captain of his should visit the place sooner rather than later, they might find themselves well rewarded for their efforts.” He laughed. “You know how she is when she’s trying to tell you something without actually telling you, but I don’t know what this means.”
Hywel looked at Gwen, who shook her head and said, “I don’t know either, but you ought to do as she asks, don’t you think?”
“I’ll keep a few men with me—Gareth, of course. Evan and Gruffydd. Conall, if he will come.”
King Owain’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure about keeping Conall at your side?”
Hywel shrugged. “It’s seems a little late to second guess his presence, and I don’t think we’ll be sorry to have someone we know well among Diarmait’s court in the coming years.”
“I give way to your judgment in this, son. Your brothers and I will move out at dawn tomorrow. Catch us up when you can—after you’ve sorted out everything here.”
“Yes, Father.” Hywel bowed again, looking pleased that his father had accorded him such confidence. His approval had been casual, as if this kind of trust in his son was an everyday occurrence.
King Owain left, and Gwen could hear him shouting for his horse in the courtyard. Gwen and Hywel looked at each other appraisingly. “You should go look at that farmstead,” Gwen said.
“Doing what my aunt asks has always been the wise choice,” Hywel said. Then Gareth’s voice telling Rhodri to stand up straight resonated outside the door. “First, however, we’ll talk to Rhodri.”
Gareth entered the room holding Rhodri by the scruff of the neck. The young man wasn’t resisting exactly, but he had a sullen look on his face that Gwen recognized. He’d been deceived, and he didn’t like it. If she had to guess, never having spoken to him before, his mother had spoiled him, and he’d never taken on the responsibilities of a man, despite being one.
Gareth dumped him onto a stool in front of Hywel, deliberately making Rhodri look up to see the prince’s face.
Hywel studied him for a moment, no more impressed than Gwen, and then he said abruptly, “Would you like to earn back a portion of your lost honor?”
Gwen wasn’t sure that Rhodri knew what honor was, but his expression cleared slightly, and he nodded. “Yes, my lord.”
“The two monks beside you in the cells—have they spoken?” Hywel said.
Rhodri scoffed. “One blubbers constantly about how he was made to steal and he never meant it. He goes on and on. The other I’ve heard from less, since his is the first cell and mine’s the last, but all he does is pray.”
Hywel kept his gaze on Rhodri, but Gwen and Gareth exchanged a glance. The two monks were staying in their respective roles. It wasn’t going to be easy to catch them changing their story.
“We are going to arrange for you to escape, and then we want you to free them and go with them to wherever they go.”
“How am I to escape?”
Hywel raised his eyebrows at Gareth, who answered, “When we return you to your cell, I will throw you roughly inside, Prince Hywel will haul me off of you—and then forget to lock the cell. The monks will be called away for Vespers, at which point you can free your fellow captives and escape with them. We will follow the best we can, and we’re counting on you to find us and tell us where their hideout is.”
Rhodri looked from Gareth to Hywel and back again. “You’re asking me to risk my life for you.”
“We can leave you in that cell until my father decides what to do with you. Maybe Conall wouldn’t mind taking you back to Ireland with him and selling you,” Gareth said.
Rhodri’s eyes widened. “He wouldn’t!”
“I would if the alternative was to leave you at Denbigh, which has real prison cells, and throw away the key. It’s seems such a waste when you could be put to work.” Hywel paused. “Do I really have to threaten you to get you to cooperate?”
Rhodri looked down at his feet. “No. I’ll do it. We’ll go at Vespers like you said. But you’ll have to stay well back. If they really are villains and they find out I talked to you, they’ll kill me.”
“We will do our best.” Hywel nodded at Gareth, who lifted Rhodri to his feet, and the two men hauled him back out to the courtyard.
Gwen followed to find Saran standing somberly by herself at the entrance to the church, watching them go. Gwen stopped beside her. “What will you do now? Will you return to Carreg Cennan?”
Saran shook her head. “That part of my life is over.”
“Would you like to come to Dolwyddelan with me and Tangwen? Hywel’s wife, Mari, is there, and Hywel specifically suggested that when I go to visit her, you come with me.”
Genuine hope lit Saran’s eyes. “Thank you. I would like that.”