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Dai
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The manhunt was in full swing. Dai felt the excitement of it tingling up and down his spine. Last summer at Dinefwr, he’d been abed and unable to participate, but today he’d spent the last hour poking around the castle, his thinking being that castle soldiers would operate by brute force rather than cleverness. If Bernard had been smart, he would have been long gone by now, but then, if he’d been smart, he wouldn’t have found himself under a debt so crushing he faked his own death rather than face it.
Why he might have returned to the castle to kill again was anybody’s guess. While Roger was ready to blame Bernard for the deaths of five people, Dai was having serious doubts about any assumption. Earlier that afternoon, before the discovery of Rose, he’d exchanged Evan for his mother, and gone with her to the castle healer, a man named Denis. Even to someone as skeptical as Dai, Denis appeared to know more about his craft than any healer Dai had ever met, including his new grandmother, Saran. Denis had come to Earl Robert twenty years ago from France—and before that the Holy Land—which was an adventure Dai wanted for himself one day. Denis had insisted that Earl Robert’s death was regrettable but natural, and Dai couldn’t help but believe him.
The second person they’d spoken to was the midwife, who had confirmed Jenet’s troubled pregnancy. Of all the deaths, perhaps Jenet’s was the one least likely to have been murder. They would see what Bernard said about all of that when they caught him. If they caught him. One of the reasons Dai was checking every nook and cranny in the castle was because he was expecting to find not Bernard, alive and well, but his dead body.
Dai stepped past Aron, who was keeping watch outside the door of the laying-out room, and found Aelfric’s body gone, Rose’s body covered, and his father staring out the tiny window. The plan was to attend the funeral for Sir Aubrey as a family, and now that the day was waning, the designated moment to meet was not far off. Earl William had contemplated postponing the mass but decided in the end to go forward with it. The possibility that they were close to finding Aubrey’s killer was all the more reason it should continue as planned.
Gareth turned towards the door as Dai entered. “Your mother was just here. She told me about your day. Were you with her when she spoke to Adela?”
Dai shook his head.
Gareth put his hands on his hips. “Bernard and his debts and these damn lists again.”
“Mother shouldn’t be wandering alone. That’s what I’m for.”
“She hasn’t gone far; she’s just walking Taran.”
Dai liked babies, it turned out. He knew his parents had worried he might resent the arrival of a new brother, fearing he would usurp Dai’s place as their son, but they worried needlessly. As Llelo had said to him when they’d first discovered Gwen’s pregnancy, they would both be knights with families of their own before Taran became a man. They had nothing to worry about.
Dai lifted his chin to point to the covered body. “You’re done here?”
Gareth sighed. “She was garroted like Aelfric. I’d even say the same laundry line killed them both and was used to tie her to a weight.” He indicated a length of rope trailing from Rose’s ankle to the floor. “Unfortunately for the killer, laundry line is not the sturdiest of rope.”
“And as we know, it’s very hard to get rid of a body.” Dai gladly moved with his father back to the doorway and out into the fresh air. It had been a sunny day, and Cadoc promised there would be another tomorrow.
“So it seems.” Gareth gave a mocking laugh. “Unfortunately, notes that say Bernard killed me are rather thin on the ground.”
“A note wouldn’t have survived the water.” Sometimes jests were the only way to make death bearable. “I am distrustful of this sudden rush to judgement anyway.”
Dai was pleased to see his father looking at him with interest. “Why?”
“Two days ago, nobody wanted to believe that even Sir Aubrey had been murdered, and now they are ready to hang Bernard for killing five people, including his own wife and Earl Robert. It’s like Hamelin told Llelo: we need a man with means, motive, and opportunity, and I don’t see Bernard as filling those requirements.”
“He’s good for the first and third, anyway,” Gareth said. “It’s the one reason I haven’t protested openly about the manhunt. Bringing him in, if he didn’t, in fact, die in the river, could help the investigation enormously.”
“I just hope the men in the search party don’t string him up before you can talk to him.”
“I did speak to Harold about that, and he promised to put the fear of God in the men not to harm him.”
“We know better than to trust crowds.” Dai snorted his skepticism. “Where has Llelo gone?”
“I sent him for wine.” Gareth gestured towards the room. “Aelfric and Rose are the loose links in the killer’s armor, Dai. It may be that Bernard murdered five people, but this late in the day, we still have no proof that Earl Robert and Jenet died by anything but natural causes. I have allowed myself to assume murder, and Hywel would have my head for it.” He grimaced. “But Aelfric and Rose? Their deaths were indisputably murder. Theirs are the ones we’re going to solve.”
His father’s surety had Dai’s spirits rising, despite the fact that they were standing over the bodies of two more people.
A bell tolled above them. And then again, echoed by a dozen others—perhaps all the bells in Bristol. He looked at his father. “The funeral is about to start.”
“Find the others. Llelo and I will close up here and then join you at the church.”
Dai did as he was bid, walking with dozens of other people through the northern gateway towards St. Peter’s Church. Dai hadn’t actually been inside the town of Bristol yet, since the priory was located outside the city proper, and the only entrance he’d used so far was the eastern gate. He allowed himself to be swept along in the flow of people and noted again that nobody was writing down names or even checking identities. With the loss of Sir Aubrey and the call of the bell, discipline had broken down entirely.
Then Gruffydd fell into step beside him. He appeared to have been lurking nearby, standing guard as Aron had been, though from a different vantage point. “I can’t decide if it will be more interesting to note who isn’t at the funeral or who is.”
Dai tsked through his teeth. “Everybody who is anybody will be there. They wouldn’t dare miss it.” Then he stopped in his tracks. “That’s a problem, Gruffydd, isn’t it? Will they pull the guards off the walls like before? Half of them are already gone searching for Bernard.” He lifted his chin to point back the way they’d come. “Did you see that nobody is keeping track of who’s going in or out?”
“I did.” Gruffydd’s eyes went to the ramparts of the castle looming above them.
Dai himself had never seen a castle as tall as Bristol. It was a sight to behold, visible for miles because of the white limestone exterior that shone even when there was no sun. He didn’t see any heads moving along the wall-walks, but that didn’t mean nobody was there.
Gruffydd set off at a fast walk back to the laying-out room. When they reached it, Gareth and Llelo were just leaving, each with a cup of wine in his hand.
Gareth tipped up his cup and drained it in two gulps before dropping his chin and saying, “You’re back.”
“We were wondering if the funeral could be used as an excuse to do more mischief,” Dai said.
Gareth’s eyes looked past him to the throngs of people heading towards the church. The church bell was bonging again, its warning echoing over the whole of the castle and town. “Find your mother, Dai, and attend the service with her. I still want eyes there. Gruffydd, bring everyone else to me in the guardhouse of the inner ward.”
Dai was past feeling resentful of being left out of the search. His father trusted him with the safety of his mother and brother. When there was a murderer on the loose, that was no small task.
Once again, they crowded through the gateway with twenty others and then set off at a faster pace for the church. By the time they reached it, the entire Welsh contingent had arrived, the rest having come into the town directly across a bridge near the priory.
“I’m here to watch your back, Mother.”
Gruffydd grinned as he clapped Dai on the shoulder. “I’m glad you’re so cheerful about it. Remember, all work done in the spirit of service pleases God.” He swept out an arm. “Come along, those who are coming.”
As everyone else walked away, Dai heard Gruffydd explaining to his fellow Dragons, barring Cadoc and Aron, who’d remained inside the castle with Gareth, what had transpired.
Thus, it was only Angharad, Gwen, and Dai (and Taran, of course) left to attend the service. They entered the church to find the nave packed with people. At the front, Prince Henry, Earl William, Lady Mabel, Roger, and all the high lords who were here for the conference sat on padded benches arranged in rows. Cadwaladr was among them. Other well-dressed people sat in subsequent rows, followed by the castle staff and common folk, who crowded up behind them, standing instead of sitting.
Gwen herself didn’t feel like she could stand holding Taran for a whole hour, and she led Angharad sidling along the south side of the church to a stone bench permanently affixed to the wall just behind the seated mourners. Mercifully, the bench had room at the end for Gwen to perch. If it hadn’t, Dai might have gone over and asked a well-dressed merchant of the town to stand and give Gwen his place.
Angharad leaned against the wall beside her, but Dai chose to post himself in the porch, to better watch the comings and goings of the congregation. So far, everybody who should be there was there.
Taran was awake but not crying, and Gwen rocked him while the people around her hushed and the priest raised his hands. Dai allowed the Latin mass to wash over him—he knew the words by heart, of course, and even what they meant, as he’d been tutored with Llelo—a fact he mostly resented, though not in this moment.
He crossed his arms, eyeing the people in the nave. He had the sense from the shifting feet and dispersed coughing that they were restless and not able to focus their reverence. There’d definitely been too many funerals of late in Bristol. If anything, with the finding of two more bodies, the wards against evil had increased in the last day.
Whether because the priest realized how nervous his people were or simply because Sir Aubrey hadn’t been as great a lord as all that, the mass was simple and relatively short, taking less than an hour. Nearing the end, Taran began fussing and Gwen put him to her breast, which meant that as the mass ended and the people started to disperse, she didn’t move.
“It was kind of you to come.”
Dai had been edging away from the doorway to allow the wave of people to leave, but now he turned around to find Prince Cadwaladr gazing down at him with what he could only describe as a benevolent expression. Dai had no idea what to say, if for no other reason than Dai’s presence at the funeral hadn’t been kind at all. He was here to watch the residents of Bristol mourn.
But he managed a slight smile. “You as well. Did you know Sir Aubrey?” The appropriate my lord stuck in Dai’s throat.
Something in Cadwaladr’s expression flickered, like a candle flame in the wind, and then steadied again. “How is the investigation coming? Do you think this valet they’re hunting did it?”
Again, Dai almost didn’t answer. He knew instinctively that Cadwaladr had sought him out because he was the youngest member of Gareth’s party. The prince couldn’t ask Gwen or Gareth anything, but he would rightfully see Dai as powerless. “We’ll see.”
Cadwaladr harrumphed. “Will you? I find the accusation of him a typical rush to judgement.”
“Why?”
“Your father claims he never assumes and goes by facts that are known, but as far as I can tell, this investigation is based on nothing but assumptions. I’m surprised he hasn’t come for me.”
Dai glanced towards his mother, who was gazing at him with a somewhat appalled expression. The church was empty but for her, Taran, and Angharad, and none could help him. It was up to Dai to do his best. “As it turns out, my father and I were just discussing this very thing, and we agree completely. You are right that too many assumptions have been made.”
Cadwaladr gaped at him for a moment, and then he straightened, almost preening. “You don’t say?”
Dai had assumed that whatever he said to Cadwaladr would be wrong, but he had tried to be conciliatory—it cost him nothing personally—and he had said the right thing after all. At the same time, he was disconcerted to feel camaraderie emanating from the prince.
Cadwaladr looked towards the main gate of the castle, before which a small crowd was gathering. “Hopefully you will find Bernard soon.” He sniffed. “Be sure to tell your father that if I can be of any assistance to him, to not hesitate to ask.”
Dai bowed. “Of course, my lord.” He managed the honorific at the end.
With a satisfied smirk, Cadwaladr strode off, and as Dai watched him go, he had a sinking feeling that, whatever the exchange had really been about, Cadwaladr had definitely gotten the better of him.
