Chapter Eight

Gareth

 

 

Gwen’s logic was sound, but the fact that the man had touched her—even if his intent had been only to subdue her—burned in Gareth. He had sworn that he would keep her safe, and here she was, in danger on their first day at Newcastle. He was having a hard time controlling his anger, and he clenched and unclenched his fists, breathing deeply to rein in his temper.

That Gwen had involved herself in the investigation and that he’d allowed her to do so made him even angrier. What kind of husband put his wife in harm’s way? And yet, she was her own person. He’d known that when he married her, and it was one of the many things he loved about her. She would still love him if he sent her back to the camp. She might even forgive him. At the same time, he was afraid that she was correct in thinking that their encampment would prove no safer for her than the castle. If the man who took David’s body guessed that she had the emerald, she wouldn’t be safe anywhere.

Gareth had almost ripped off Evan’s head a moment ago as they’d left the chapel. His friend had been waiting anxiously for them near the entrance to the great hall. But Evan’s expression had made Gareth swallow down his ire. It wasn’t Evan’s fault that Gwen was hurt, any more than it was Prior Rhys’s, who had already paid for his mistake in leaving her alone. Together they would find the man who harmed her. Gareth resolved to be more diligent about keeping Gwen with him at all times, or to ensure that another could protect her during those times when they had to be apart.

In truth, he blamed himself more than anyone for what had happened. Gwen was his wife, and her welfare was his responsibility.

The emerald, tiny as it was, lay heavy in Gareth’s scrip as he escorted Mari and Gwen into the great hall, Evan and Gruffydd trailing behind them. Their hands rested on their sword hilts somewhat more conspicuously than usual. Gareth looked right and left, feeling as if everyone was watching him and could see through his scrip to the gem. Even King Owain had few gems in his treasury. How had David come by his?

They passed through the anteroom and into the great hall. Prince Hywel stood near the dais, and at their approach, his expression filled with concern. He gave a quick nod and said, “I can see you have more news than just the harm to Prior Rhys. We shouldn’t speak here.”

Then the prince’s eyes drifted to Mari. It was only a brief glance, but it sent a tingling sensation down Gareth’s spine. The look spoke of interest and was one Gareth hadn’t seen in his lord’s eyes in a long while.

“Come this way.” Hywel held out his arm to Mari, who took it. The pair stepped off the dais, heading for a side door that led to a stairway and other parts of the castle.

Watching them go, Gwen tightened her grip on Gareth’s arm. “Gareth—”

“I see it,” he said.

Gareth counted Gwen among the few women Hywel had not been able to charm into his bed. Mari should have known better than to look for companionship there, but sometimes a woman’s heart overrode her common sense. And sometimes a girl might need reminding when faced with the reality of this handsome prince of Gwynedd. Even Gwen had admitted to Gareth once—when pressed and given assurance that nothing she could say would make him take offense—that God had given Hywel more gifts than any man had a right to.

“How is Prior Rhys?” Gwen said to Hywel’s back.

“Ill.” Hywel turned his head to look at Gwen and Gareth. “He has a rising lump on his head from a hard blow. It might have killed him, and the wound continues to bleed. I’m worried that he might never regain his right mind. We won’t know until he wakes. If he wakes.”

“I’m glad he’s alive,” Gwen said.

“But he’s not conscious?” Gareth said.

Hywel shook his head. “He hasn’t spoken, or at least he hasn’t said anything that makes sense. Why someone would attack a prior—”

“I’m afraid I can help with that,” Gareth said. They halted in a corridor before a half open door, one floor above where Gareth had seen the two maids talking when he’d gone looking for Alard that morning. “David’s body is gone, my lord.”

Hywel’s teeth snapped together. “Explain.”

“Mari found Gwen collapsed on the floor of the room which had housed David’s body,” Gareth said.

“Sweet Mari!” Hywel said. And then his eyes went to Mari beside him. He flashed a grin and reached for her hand to clasp it. “Thank you for looking out for Gwen.” Still holding Mari’s hand, Hywel pushed at the door and made to enter the room with her.

Gareth put out a hand to stop him. “There’s more I must relate to you, my lord, before we speak to any Norman.”

“I guessed that,” Hywel said from the doorway. “Rhun and I have been assigned to this room. We can speak privately in here.”

Rhun sat on a bench at the end of the bed, polishing his sword with a cloth. He stood up as they entered. The room was twice as large as Hywel’s room back at Aber Castle, with a wide bed big enough for the brothers to share, even if Hywel would have preferred female company. The room was well-appointed with a trunk, a rack upon which to store weapons, a tapestry on the wall depicting a boar hunt, and a fireplace (unlit, as it was May).

“Earl Robert has honored you with this room, my lord,” Mari said.

Hywel snorted a laugh. “Has he? I’m not so sure.”

“What do you mean?” Mari said.

“What Prince Hywel is saying is that the honor might not be as great as it first appears,” Gareth said. “It’s too easy for these Normans to decide that a Welsh prince might make a useful prisoner.”

Mari’s eyes widened. “Earl Robert wouldn’t do that!”

“There is very little my father wouldn’t agree to if it meant freeing Rhun and myself from captivity,” Hywel said, with a nod towards his brother. “Earl Robert may not wish to alienate his Welsh allies to that extent, but not all Normans have been so restrained.”

Then Prince Hywel canted his head towards Evan and Gruffydd, who’d remained in the doorway. “Keep a watch.”

They nodded and stepped back into the corridor. Gareth made to ease the door closed, but Evan stopped him before he could. “Wait—”

Gareth hesitated, looking at his friend.

“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” Evan said, “but I wanted to say that I am so very sorry for what happened to Gwen. She was in my charge, and I—”

Gareth cut him off. “I know you care for her and would never want to see her hurt. Blame lies at the feet of the man who harmed her, not at yours.”

“But if I—”

“Or if I had taken proper precautions, or not underestimated what we faced here, she would not have been hurt,” Gareth said. “As I said, blame lies on the man who stole David’s body and on me. She is my wife.”

The two men regarded each other for a heartbeat, and then Evan nodded. “Gruffydd and I will be here. Call out if you need us.”

Gareth closed the door and turned to face the room. “Did Earl Robert speak to you about David’s murder, my lords? About any of this?”

“No,” Hywel said.

“He talked only of alliances and good will,” Rhun said. “You are most welcome, and so on. It wasn’t anything we didn’t expect to hear, though his choice to house us inside the castle surprised me.”

“As it concerns me,” Gareth said.

Hywel chewed on his lower lip. “I think an excursion back to camp is in order at the first possible opportunity, just to see if Earl Robert will allow us to leave.”

Rhun glanced at Hywel. “You have worse news than this, brother. I can see it in your face.” Then he gestured to Mari that she should rest on the bench where he’d been sitting.

Gareth escorted Gwen to sit beside her. Gareth still wasn’t sure that Gwen should be here at all, but other than sending her home to Wales—a logistically challenging proposition—he didn’t see what choice he had just now. “Tell them what happened, Gwen,” he said.

Gwen gave Hywel and Rhun a detailed account of the events in which she’d played a part, and then Gareth brought out the emerald for inspection.

Rhun couldn’t see it from his position by the window and approached with three quick steps. “St. Simeon protect us.” He fingered the gem and then glanced around at the circle of companions. “I take it as a given that we think he acquired this through nefarious means?”

“It was hidden in the seam of David’s cloak,” Gwen said. “More than that, I cannot say.”

“With the appearance of the gem and the removal of the body, already this is not a simple tale of murder,” Rhun said.

Hywel pursed his lips and turned to Gareth. “I have not heard from you yet. You left the castle with Sir Amaury, which is why you weren’t with Gwen when she examined David’s body.”

Gareth nodded. “At the time, following a lead with Sir Amaury made the most sense to me. In that regard, I’m happy to report that he seems to have some confidence in me and my discretion.”

“As he should,” Hywel said. “What did you discover?”

Gareth related what had transpired beside the river: the finding of John’s body, the footprints, Sir Amaury’s tale of Empress Maud’s four horsemen, and all that they didn’t know, including the identity of the man helping Alard.

“Who do you think took David’s body?” Rhun said.

“I have no idea,” Gareth said, “not even a good guess.”

“Alard?” Hywel said, and then he shook his head, answering his own question in the same way Gareth had. “He wouldn’t have dropped David’s body at our feet if he knew about the gem.”

“More likely, our culprit is the one for whom the gem was intended,” Rhun said. “It might have made sense for Alard to have killed David for the emerald, but since he didn’t take it, clearly that’s not the case. His motive is something else entirely.” Just because Rhun had never been much involved in the less savory aspects of ruling Gwynedd didn’t mean he didn’t understand them.

“I agree with you, as far as it goes and provided the intended owner wasn’t David himself—” Hywel glanced around the room and smiled at the skeptical looks on his companions’ faces, “—but what we know so far is obviously a very small part of a much larger conspiracy.”

“Or could it be more than one conspiracy?” Gwen said. “That’s happened before.”

“Whatever is going on, it isn’t good,” Gareth said.

“At least, I find it unlikely it has anything to do with us,” Rhun said.

“Perhaps, my lord,” Gareth said. “Alard did put the body at our feet, and David did work for your father, or so we thought.”

“What about John’s body?” Mari said, speaking for the first time.

“What about it?” Gareth said.

“Do we think he might have an emerald hidden on him too?” Mari said.

Hywel drew in a breath. “What did Amaury do with John’s body, Gareth?”

“He told me he’d have it taken to the friary, since it’s closer than Newcastle,” Gareth said.

“If he finds an emerald on John, he might wonder if we found one on David,” Gwen said. “What if he asks about it? Are you going to tell him I found it?”

Hywel’s fingers closed around the emerald. “My instinct is to tell no one, to keep it to give to my father.”

“We probably don’t have that luxury.” Rhun pried open his brother’s fingers and took the gem. “At the very least, we should show it to Earl Robert.”

Hywel made a grunting sound that might have meant agreement.

“Worse, what if Amaury doesn’t ask about it?” Gareth said. “I can’t inquire of him without giving away the existence of the one we have, but to know that John had a gem too would mean that John and David were paid to do a task.”

“Such a task would have had to be both important and dangerous to cost so much,” Mari said.

“Amaury could be correct that Alard isn’t a traitor,” Gwen said. “What if it is David who was the traitor, and he was paid to kill Alard?”

“That would make his death a very expensive one,” Gareth said.

“We will assume nothing without evidence.” Hywel looked hard at each of his companions in turn. “Let’s begin with what we know.”

Rhun focused on his brother. “We have four horsemen: Alard, John, David, and Peter, who is dead.”

“We have four men involved in this plot,” Hywel said, “Alard, John, David, and a fourth man whose identity we don’t know.”

“What if Amaury isn’t telling you the truth? What if the fourth horseman isn’t really dead?” Mari said.

“Now you’re thinking like a true conspirator, Mari.” Hywel grinned.

Gareth’s brow furrowed. “Amaury wasn’t lying about Peter’s death, of that I am sure. Why would he?”

Mari deflated, her shoulders sagging. Gareth hadn’t intended that, and he made a gesture with his hand in silent apology.

Gwen put an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t be sad. You were thinking out loud with us. This is what we do.” Gwen glared at her husband. “Besides, she isn’t wrong. We’re looking for at least one more man besides Alard and the mystery man beside the river.”

“How so?” Gareth said.

“If John, David, Alard, and his companion beside the river are all dead or accounted for outside the castle, who hurt Prior Rhys and me and took David’s body? How many culprits are we really looking for?”

Gareth grimaced. His wife was right, and he was about to say so when a knock came at the door, followed by Evan’s voice. “My lords?”

At a gesture from Rhun, Gareth opened the door.

Sir Amaury stood on the threshold. “I apologize for interrupting.” He peered past Gareth into the room, and when he saw Rhun and Hywel, he bowed. “May I speak with you, my lords?”

Prince Hywel nodded, and Gareth stepped aside to let Amaury pass through the doorway. Then Gareth closed the door again and leaned against it, his arms folded across his chest.

“How may we assist you, Sir Amaury?” Prince Rhun said.

“I have been asked to escort Sir Gareth to see—” Amaury cleared his throat and gave the impression that he was struggling to get the next words out. He was a knight, a chief servant to Earl Ranulf of Chester, and yet he shifted from one foot to the other, uncomfortable with everyone’s gaze on him, “—the empress.”

Gareth gaped at him, dropping his arms and taking a step towards Amaury. “What? I thought she wasn’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow?”

Amaury glanced behind him at Gareth, and while his back was turned, Hywel made a silencing motion with his hand. Gareth subsided, and Hywel drew Amaury’s attention back to him. “Why would she want to see Sir Gareth?”

Amaury swung around to face Prince Hywel. “I am only the messenger, my lords.”

“No blame to you, Amaury.” Hywel grinned, though Gareth couldn’t see what was funny. If they’d been alone, he might have made a comment along the lines of just you wait, but to do so wouldn’t have been appropriate in front of Amaury.

Prince Rhun clasped his hands behind his back, playing the more serious older brother. “Empress Maud is here? And she’s not happy, I imagine.”

Amaury hands were clenched behind his back too. “No, my lord.”

Gareth met Hywel’s eyes, asking for permission to join the conversation. Hywel nodded.

“Why me?” Gareth left the door and moved so that Amaury could speak to him and the princes at the same time.

“I don’t know,” Amaury said.

“Surely this isn’t usual?” Gareth said.

“Not usual at all, but not without reason.” Amaury canted his head towards Hywel and Rhun. “She will meet the princes of Gwynedd formally in the hall of the castle, but she hates to be kept in the dark about anything. Earl Robert must have sent her word that you were part of this investigation, and since both Gwen and Prior Rhys were injured when David’s body was stolen …” Amaury’s voice trailed off, leaving (to Gareth’s mind) a great deal unsaid.

Hywel filled in one of the gaps. “She wants to hear what happened from the horse’s mouth. She can question Gareth without thought of protocol or how it will affect the relations between her and my father.”

“My lord, speaking to an empress puts me out of my depth,” Gareth said.

Amaury’s eyes grew bright with the same amusement Gareth saw in Hywel’s face. “She has been known to reduce grown men to gibbering fools.”

“Tell her what you deem wise,” Hywel said to Gareth. “We don’t even know what questions she is going to ask. I trust you.” He didn’t need to tell Gareth not to mention the emerald, and they both knew it.

“Yes, my lord.” Gareth swallowed hard. “Though I don’t find this nearly as amusing as you do.”

Hywel clapped Gareth on the shoulder. “She’ll take to you, far more than she will to either Rhun or me. Consider yourself an emissary from us.”

Gareth bowed, though his insides were churning. He turned to Amaury. “We might as well get this over with.”

“While you are about royal business, Mari and I will call upon Prior Rhys.” Gwen rose to her feet.

“That’s a good idea,” Gareth said.

If he hadn’t caught her hand and pulled her close, he would have missed Gwen’s next words, which were said just about as sourly as any he’d ever heard from her: “It seems to be all I’m good for.”

Gareth looked down at her, concerned. “Gwen—”

She reached up and patted his cheek. “Not to worry. I’m just out-of-sorts.”

“Do not get yourself into any more trouble,” he said.

Gwen laughed. “I’m not the one going to visit an empress.”