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Gareth
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What had begun as a funeral service for a staunch companion had ended in chaos and recriminations. Once Gareth was convinced his son would live, he visited both Bernard and Charles in their cells. Bernard was being kept in a genuine dungeon, with iron bars and damp floor, but Charles had a room at the top of the tower, at Gareth’s request, with a chair to sit on and a table to eat at. Gareth didn’t approve in theory, but he was hoping to lull Charles into thinking they didn’t understand what he’d done, and that he could still talk his way out of a hanging.
Gareth began with Bernard, who’d practically prostrated himself at his feet, in relief and gratitude that Gareth was willing to listen. During Sir Aubrey’s funeral service, Cadoc and Hamelin, who was the one who recognized Bernard, had caught the former valet exiting the latrine in the outer ward, and as Gareth listened to the tale of woe, made all the worse by Bernard’s own mistakes, he felt sullied himself.
“I’m an inveterate gambler. I admit it! But I didn’t kill anyone! Earl Robert knew about my gambling. He even gave me a coin at one time or another to keep my creditors at bay. I think if he hadn’t been so ill he might have spoken to them himself, but he was nearing the end, and he couldn’t help me. I took nothing from him! I swear it!
“When he died, and then my own wife died, it was as if something snapped inside me. I was in more debt than ever, and those Italians don’t take no for an answer. Even Fitzharding wanted his silver. I was going to lose my position. I’d already lost my lord, my wife, and my child. There was nothing left for me. They would have killed me if I hadn’t killed myself. So, yes, I faked my own drowning. I thought to start over somewhere else.”
Bernard drew in a unsteady breath.
“Charles wooed me over a long period of time. I think now that some of my worst debts were by his hand, because the wine he fed me was richer than I was used to. One time he found me in a tavern and plied me with drink—and I ended up losing worse than ever.”
“Don’t blame him for your gambling,” Gareth said. “There’s no honor in that.”
Bernard scoffed. “I have no honor. I betrayed my lord. I can’t come back from that.”
“What about Earl Robert?”
“What about him?”
“Did you murder him?”
“Of course not!” Bernard had his hands clasped in front of him like he was before an altar. “In my heart, I knew it was only a matter of time before someone started asking questions, and those questions would lead to Charles, and thus to me. Or maybe to me and then Charles.” He pointed with his chin again at Gareth. “You’re here, aren’t you? And Charles and I are behind bars. I was right to run.”
Gareth had thought he understood where this was going, and now he was sure. “To pay off some of your debts, you did favors for Charles. What, in particular, did you do for him?”
“I gathered information.”
Gareth didn’t think he had to ask about what, but he did anyway.
“Everything that I could about what Earl Robert and his allies were thinking and doing. Movements of armies. Our resources. Charles had access to some of it, but I was with Earl Robert all the time, and nobody notices a servant, do they?”
“What did Charles do with it?”
Bernard shrugged. “He sent it to his masters.”
“When did you realize that master was King Stephen?”
“It wasn’t too hard to figure out.” Bernard snorted. “Once, I even saw the great William of Ypres.” At the widening of Gareth’s eyes, he continued, “Yes, King Stephen’s spymaster himself. Charles met with him in an abandoned barn outside Bristol. I went with him to keep watch.”
“You say you didn’t murder Earl Robert, but in the same breath you accuse Charles of spying for Stephen? It was Charles, then, who murdered the earl?”
Bernard shook his head emphatically. “The earl’s death, my wife’s death, even Sir Aubrey’s, were all accidents. Charles kept his hands clean because he was playing a long game. He has been a spy at the very heart of Bristol for years, you understand, never giving himself away by word or deed.”
“What changed?”
“Earl Robert’s death, I think. It was all coming to a head. William didn’t favor Charles, and perhaps he feared for his position. Maybe he was tired of his passive role, or maybe King Stephen wanted more from him. Maybe he’d had people making mischief all along, like Aelfric chiseling out bits of the castle. You should have the mason go over the entire castle, by the way. There are more stones on those battlements waiting to fall.”
“Maybe you’re the spy and Charles is the pawn,” Gareth said. “You’re the one who faked his own death, after all.”
“No! I didn’t hurt anyone!”
Gareth studied Bernard’s pleading face. “Why did Aelfric end up dead? Why did Charles try to murder you? That certainly isn’t keeping his hands clean.”
Bernard became even more agitated. “You were here, asking questions. Charles was worried about Aelfric’s loyalties, and Rose had decided she wanted more from her life than spying.”
Gareth had been waiting for her name to come up. “Rose ran errands for him too?”
Bernard snorted. “Why do you think he killed her? In speaking to your wife, she’d done her last errand for him. You were getting too close, and he thought she was going to talk. Just like Aelfric.”
“So to be clear, you, Aelfric, and Rose all worked for Charles, knowing that his intent was to betray Earl Robert?”
Bernard’s hands were clenched in his hair, the very image of regret and despair. “I never meant to hurt anyone, but I needed to pay off my debts.”
“Why did Rose do it?”
He sneered. “She wanted silver, so she could rise above her station.”
“And Aelfric?”
Bernard shrugged. “He wanted revenge.”
“Revenge on whom?”
“Not all Saxons have taken to the Normans, you know. You Welsh aren’t the only ones who look to fight back.”
That was the first Gareth had ever heard of a Saxon resistance, but he supposed one was bound to turn up eventually. He canted his head as he contemplated his prisoner. “Why did you come back, Bernard? You faked your own death perfectly. What possible reason could you have for coming back?”
“I tried not to! But when it came down to it, it’s hard to start over with no money, no name, no friends. It had been three weeks of hell, living on the run, and I couldn’t take it anymore. Besides, I knew—” he stopped short.
Gareth pounced on the hesitation. “What did you know?”
“What Charles’s real plan was, of course! Why do you think Charles tried to kill me just now? To silence me!”
Gareth was skeptical. “Why would he want to do that?”
Bernard’s chin stuck out, and even though his life was on the line, he was still reluctant to admit the truth. But then he did—to save his skin rather than his soul. “Because I knew what he was up to. I couldn’t—” He looked down at his hands. “Charles’s plan was to open the castle to King Stephen’s forces on Christmas Day, when everyone was merry from revelry and good cheer. I know what you think of me, but even I am not so worthless that I would allow all of my friends to die.”
This was credible and believable, but Gareth tsked through his teeth anyway. “I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true, my lord! You have to believe me!”
“I don’t, actually. You may have some modicum of conscience, but I don’t believe that’s why you returned—” He paused and began to nod as more pieces of the puzzle started falling into place. Everyone had liked Bernard, and he’d found favor with many, but nobody had trusted him—because he wasn’t trustworthy. “You came back for money.”
Bernard had been groveling at Gareth’s feet, but now his head came up. “What? No, I didn’t.”
“Who did you think would give you money, Bernard?”
Bernard gaped at him and then shook his head vehemently. “No, no. You have it wrong.”
Then the door opened behind Gareth, and he turned to see Gwen standing on the threshold of the guardroom with Mabs, of all people. Gareth frowned at them, feeling this was no place for women, even one as daring as his wife.
But Gwen came forward anyway, her arm hooked through Mab’s elbow. “Mabs has something to tell you, Gareth.”
Bernard gasped. “No.” But the word came out strained and didn’t carry.
“It’s my fault he was caught. He came back for me.” Mabs sniffed and wiped away a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. “I told him I needed a few more days before I could leave. The manhunt caught us by surprise, so I smuggled him into the castle because we thought it would be the last place anyone would look. He was only caught because the latrine nearest my chambers is blocked, so he had to go outside.” She looked past Gareth to where Bernard was on his knees on the floor. “We were leaving tonight, as soon as we could get away. We were going to be together forever!”
“I love you, Mabs,” Bernard begged. “Don’t believe anything anyone has said about me.”
“I love you too!” Mabs burst into tears and turned to sob on Gwen’s shoulder. “It isn’t true. It isn’t true.”
Gwen looked over the top of Mab’s head, neither she nor Gareth having the heart to tell the grieving woman that the only thing Bernard had cared about was her money.
* * * * *
Prince Henry spoke first, as was his right, silencing the company of noblemen who’d gathered in the conference room. “We have come together this week for a noble cause, but I must speak to you now of the deaths that have occurred at Bristol over the last month, beginning with the loss of my uncle Robert.” Here he gestured to William, who was sitting with an elbow on the arm of his chair and a finger to his lips. His other hand tapped out a rhythm on the table. “While the information uncovered recently has shown me that I was mistaken in thinking my uncle was murdered, murder has been done.” Now he motioned to Gareth. “I give you Sir Gareth of Gwynedd, to explain the hows and the whys—and the danger that lies before us now.”
Gareth rose to his feet. At one time, he would have felt intimidated by speaking before this august company, but not anymore. He knew these men now, and he’d been in similar positions before. He also had begun to realize that the sooner he laid these murders to rest, the sooner he could take his family home. Llelo was wounded, but he would heal better if he could see the mountains of Wales from his window.
“If you will indulge me for a moment, I will begin at the beginning.” Gareth gestured to Prince Henry. “The prince asked me to come to Bristol because he feared that his uncle had been murdered, and the fears were only heightened by the additional deaths of Earl Robert’s maidservant and valet, a married couple. Within an hour of our arrival, we were faced with a fourth death, that of Sir Aubrey, Earl Robert’s steward. By this point, it seemed apparent to us that all four deaths not only must be related, but could not be accidental.”
He took in a breath. “We were wrong on all counts.”
A murmur swept around the room, and Gareth put up a hand. “That is not to say that murder has not been done, and I will get to that in a moment. Let me dispense first with these four: As you know, Earl Robert had been ill for many months. In light of the testimony of various witnesses who came forward during the course of this investigation, both Earl William and Prince Henry feel it safe to conclude that he died of natural causes.
“The second death, that of the maidservant, was a surprise in that she was young. She was pregnant, however, and consultation with the castle midwife revealed that the pregnancy had not been going well.” He sighed. “It is not an unreasonable conclusion that she too died a natural death, even if a premature one.”
He put out a hand and pointed to the door. “Which brings us to the third death, that of Earl Robert’s valet. He, as you must know by now, is not dead.”
At a nod from Gareth, Evan opened the door and gestured the hapless Bernard into the room. He stood, hesitating on the threshold, until Gruffydd and Cadoc, who had hold of his upper arms, urged him inside. His hands weren’t tied, but with so many men in the room, nobody was concerned that he would get away. Unfortunately for him, admitting to treason was as likely to get him hanged as murder. Possibly more likely. Gareth wasn’t sure Bernard had figured this out yet.
Mabs had tried to intervene on his behalf to her half-brother, but William’s face had remained stony, and Gareth was uncertain as to whether her attachment to Bernard made the earl more or less likely to hang him.
Bernard was followed by Charles, who was staunchly maintaining his haughty demeanor.
Gareth gestured expansively. “I give you Bernard, our wayward valet. By his own admission, he faked his own death to get away from his creditors. Charles, however, is a spy for William of Ypres.”
Both William and Henry had known this, of course, and neither moved even an eyelash. The other lords in the room—Ranulf, the Clares, Cadwaladr too—surged to their feet in outrage.
Prince Henry lifted his hand at the wrist. “Please be seated, everyone. Continue, Sir Gareth.”
Gareth obliged: “Charles arrived in Bristol many years ago after Stephen’s failed attempt to take the castle by force, with the single goal of insinuating himself into the household. According to Bernard, Charles planned to open the castle to Stephen’s men on Christmas Day.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Charles’s nose was in the air. “Everything you’ve said is a lie.”
“Rose and Aelfric are dead by your hand,” Gareth said. “You deny killing them?”
“Of course I do.” He was standing before them with his arms bound behind his back, but with his legs spread, so he looked like a man-at-arms at rest rather than a prisoner. His shoulders were straighter than Gareth had ever seen them, and he seemed to be wavering between maintaining his mild-mannered persona and defiance.
Gareth turned to the surprised barons. “Charles was also working with the guard, Aelfric. Their goal at first was to collect information and perhaps make a little mischief while they were at it. We’ve noted the wards against evil spirits about the castle. Charles’s intent was to capitalize on the fear the deaths created and to make it worse. These last weeks, he and Aelfric have made little things go wrong, from soured milk to strangely clogged latrines to—” he canted his head, “—broken masonry.”
“You’re saying that Sir Aubrey’s death really was an accident?” Even Cadwaladr was aghast at the villainy.
Gareth frowned as he looked at Charles. “That was a piece of bad luck, wasn’t it?”
“Why do you say bad luck, Gareth?” Ranulf said. “It paved the way for Charles to become steward.”
Gareth’s past encounters with the Earl of Chester hadn’t always been pleasant, but he was an intelligent man, if amoral. “Charles didn’t want the job, and quite liked staying in Sir Aubrey’s shadow, especially as Aubrey’s mind wasn’t as sharp as it had once been. It was the perfect cover for him. That’s why he didn’t object to Lord Fitzharding’s assumption of responsibility for the castle. His intent was to be as plain as the day is long, competent but unassuming.
“Sir Aubrey’s death also focused attention on the troubling atmosphere at Bristol and gave credence to the idea that a killer was loose in the castle. It was the last thing Charles wanted—and I believe he panicked. He killed his co-conspirators rather than risk them talking.”
“Why did Charles ransack Aubrey’s rooms?” William said.
Charles answered for himself with a sneer. “I didn’t.”
Hamelin cleared his throat and put up a hand. “He’s right. That wasn’t Charles. I did it.”
Even Gareth gaped at him, taken entirely by surprise. “Why?”
“Because I asked him to.” Now everyone swung around to look at Prince Henry. “I had given to Sir Aubrey for safekeeping the messages we’d intercepted. I needed them in hand to prove my cousin had betrayed my mother and his father.” The young prince looked genuinely sheepish. “He didn’t find them, and I was wrong on all counts.” He stood and bowed to William. For a future king to bow to one of his earls was unheard of, and yet he did it. “Forgive me, cousin. I was lost in grief.”
“It is forgiven and forgotten.” William stood and bowed back.
Gareth shook his head in disbelief. “Thank you, my lord Hamelin, for clearing that up. I had assumed Charles realized his mistake and was looking for either the notes or the lists.”
“What lists are these?” Ranulf said.
Gareth explained again: “Since Earl Robert’s death, Sir Aubrey had been noting everyone who entered and left the castle. According to his granddaughter, Aubrey studied the lists all the time, as he was struggling with the acuity of his memory. In the days before he died, he became convinced that he was missing something important about them. She never figured out what was bothering him—and he didn’t either—or if he did, by morning he couldn’t remember it.”
Henry scowled. “But now we know.”
“The lists.” William was shaking his head. “You had your finger in every pie, Charles. How did I not see it?”
“Nothing this Welshman—” of course Charles accompanied the word with another sneer, “—has said about me is true.”
William looked down at his hands as they rested on the table near the relevant pieces of paper. He shoved them towards Charles. “Don’t lie to me anymore. You have literally been betrayed by your own hand.”
