The Good Knight (A Gareth and Gwen Medieval Mystery) (14 page)

“Have I said you can’t?” she said. “I’ve hardly seen you for days.”

“And that’s exactly the problem,” Gwalchmai said.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you,” Gwalchmai said. “Taking risks, putting yourself in harm’s way. Keeping it all to yourself because you think I’m too young to understand what’s going on.”

Gwen gritted her teeth, damping down her irritation at
his
attempt to mother
her
. Her father did that quite enough, even if she’d long since figured out how not to listen to him. “We’re at Aber. It’s hardly dangerous here. I let Gareth go south without me, didn’t I? Am I worried, even though he’s been gone a day longer than he’d said? No. Here I am, pruning the beans in the garden on a sunny afternoon, minding my own business and not interfering in anybody else’s.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, is that it?” Gwalchmai said. “Why can you tell me what to do and not the other way around?”

Gwen took in a deep breath, recognizing this moment as one that had been a long time coming. “When did I last tell you to do something? You’ve been your own person for a while now.”

“This morning you told me to comb my hair,” he said.

“Do you resent that?” she said.

Gwalchmai gazed at her, and then flopped onto the bench near the row of beans. “Yes.”

 “Even if you know it’s the right thing to do?”

Gwalchmai dug the toe of his boot into the dirt and she thought he wasn’t going to answer, but then he said, “Even if.”

Gwen nodded. She’d noticed that Gwalchmai was far less likely to do what she asked, just because she asked. “I can try to stop. Mothering you is a hard habit to break.” Gwalchmai was alternately so earnest and sullen, Gwen found herself wanting to laugh. Except that wasn’t fair to him either. Putting down her knife, she touched his hand. “Is that really what you came here to say? Or is it something else?”

Gwalchmai looked up, his expression as intent as ever. “I overheard Lord Cadwaladr speaking of Sir Gareth last evening. He was regaling the men crowded around him with the story of how he threw Gareth out of his hall for insubordination.”

“Yes,” Gwen said. “You were seven when that happened. Do you remember?”

“I remember you crying,” he said.

“And you don’t want to see me cry again over Gareth?”

Gwalchmai had the courage of youth and didn’t even appear embarrassed. He nodded.

That he cared enough to talk to her touched Gwen’s heart. “Father didn’t refuse Gareth’s offer of marriage because Gareth had dishonored himself, as Cadwaladr implies. Gareth refused an order his conscience told him he couldn’t carry out and Cadwaladr dismissed him for it. Father respected that. If Gareth had followed the order, how could Father have given me to such a man? But at the same time, he couldn’t let me go to a man who had no way to support me. Not at sixteen.”

“And now?” Gwalchmai said.

Gwen paused.
Gareth
. How did he really feel about her? What had he done all these years that was so
irregular
? He’d refused to discuss his time as a mercenary and she wondered what his tasks had entailed. He’d done
something
of which he was ashamed. Which he wouldn’t tell her. And was that his fault? Surely every man was entitled to his secrets, especially a soldier who followed his lord’s orders, even when those orders offended him. As both Gareth and she knew, the alternative was dismissal. Or death.

 “I’m not going to marry Gareth,” Gwen said. “Even if I wanted to, I don’t know that he’d have me. He has a new life with no place for me in it.”

“Then he’s a fool,” Gwalchmai said.

Gwen smiled. “He hasn’t hurt me, Gwalchmai. Life hurt me, but I’ve grown up since then. Still … thank you. You’ve grown up more than I’ve wanted to admit.”

Gwalchmai nodded, looked down at his feet, and then raised his head again. “There’s something else, too. Something I overheard someone say.”

“What is it?” Gwen said, not expecting much of note.

“My friend Dafydd says King Anarawd’s brother, Cadell, is going to marry Elen in Anarawd’s stead. He was talking to Cristina about it.”

Gwen blinked at this upwelling of information. “Cadell was talking to Cristina?”

“Yes.”

“Go on.” Gwen braced herself, now sure he was going to tell her something she didn’t want to hear.

“Cadell said he knew something that would convince King Owain that Gareth murdered Anarawd.”

“What did Cristina say?”

“I don’t know,” Gwalchmai said. “They moved too far away for Dafydd to hear.”

Gwen stared into the distance. There was no telling what information Cristina had shared with Cadell or vice versa. She straightened. If Gareth was to hang, it wasn’t going to be over this. Not if she could help it.

She turned to her brother, about to smile her dismissal, when she stopped herself. Not only was he older than she’d thought, but he’d brought her good information. She canted her head as she looked at him.

“What?” he said.

“Neither you nor Father have appreciated the work I’ve done for Hywel,” she said. “But you’ve just done similar work for me.”

Gwalchmai’s eyes widened. “I—” He stopped himself. “I guess I have, at that.”

“How would you like to do a bit more?”

Gwalchmai’s eyes brightened and Gwen hastened to head him off before he got too excited. “Nothing dangerous.” She pointed a finger at him. “Nothing that draws attention to yourself. Just listening and reporting, like you’ve just done.”

“And what are you going to do?” Gwalchmai said.

“Find Hywel.” Gwen stretched, loosening her muscles from too much bending among the weeds, and headed towards the kitchen door.

Gwalchmai called after her. “Don’t do anything stupid!”

Gwen raised a hand to indicate she’d heard, though she didn’t answer. She hoped she’d done the right thing with Gwalchmai. Maybe if she gave him a small task, it would keep him out of bigger mischief.

She’d passed through the kitchen and hall, looked in Hywel’s office, and was coming down the steps into the courtyard by the main gate, still searching for Hywel, when Gareth came through it.

“There you are,” she said.

He reined in and dismounted. When she reached him, he caught her around the waist. She gazed up at him, stunned at how natural his greeting felt.

“I have much to tell you,” he said, overriding her confusion.

“Did you find something?”

“Lots of somethings.” He turned her towards the hall, his hand still resting at the small of her back. It felt
right
there.

But then Cadwaladr and Cadell appeared in the doorway. Cadell pointed his finger at Gareth. “Seize that man!”

“What? No!” Gwen stepped directly in front of Gareth, as if that could protect him from this unexpected onslaught.

Nobody else moved. Even Prince Cadwaladr gaped at Cadell in astonishment.

“I’ve heard that before,” Evan said from somewhere to Gwen’s right. “Not going to make that mistake again.”

“Not on anyone’s orders but the King’s,” another man said.

The two men-at-arms did move closer to Gareth, to protect him, Gwen hoped. Gareth’s arm had slipped around Gwen’s waist, and she pressed back against him.

Cadell had his own supporters, however, his own
teulu
, and they moved from all directions, pushing through the men of Aber’s garrison, to surround Gareth and Gwen. One of them grabbed her arm and yanked her away from Gareth while two more pinioned his arms behind his back. It was that first evening all over again.

“What are you doing? He’s done nothing!” she said.

Madog strode from the entrance to the barracks. “Let go of the girl.” His command carried across the courtyard. “And unhand Sir Gareth.”

Cadell, however, outranked him, and thundered down the steps. “I’ve done a complete search of the castle! Moments ago, one of my men found Anarawd’s seal among that man’s possessions!”

“What?” Gwen spun around to gape at Cadell.

“Let it go, Gwen,” Gareth said. “We know why I had Anarawd’s seal. And we can prove it. This means nothing.”

Cadwaladr caught that this was his opportunity to humiliate Gareth once again, even it wasn’t he who had orchestrated it. He strode up to Gareth and put his face right into his. “Nothing?! How dare you! The King of Deheubarth is dead!”

“It is you who are nothing,” Gwen said, before Gareth could speak. As soon as she spoke the words, she knew she shouldn’t have said them out loud, but she couldn’t take them back. To have Cadwaladr assisting Cadell when they were both in the wrong…

Cadwaladr froze, his face a rigid mask. Without responding to Gwen or even looking at her, he threw out his hand, dismissing Gareth. Cadell’s men, now augmented by several of Cadwaladr’s, hauled him away. Madog watched, impotent, his jaw clenched and his shoulders shaking with suppressed anger. Then Cadwaladr whirled on Gwen. “You would do well to mind your place.”

“And what place is that?”

Cadwaladr’s eyes bulged. “Silence!” He backhanded Gwen across the face. She staggered, her hand to her mouth and tasting blood.

“I know the truth and so does Prince Hywel. It will come out!” She spat the words, even if they were as far from the truth as it was possible to get, and ran past him, heading towards the stables. She was so furious and hurt she couldn’t see straight. Others had described to her an anger that made a red haze before their eyes but she’d never experienced it. That, and the contrast from light to dark as she crossed the threshold meant she didn’t see Hywel standing directly in her path until she ran into him.

“Careful.” Hywel caught her by the arms.

“Gareth—”

“I heard,” Hywel said. “And I heard what you said to Cadwaladr. That was not wise.”

“I know.” Gwen touched a finger to the corner of her mouth. “A moment ago, I didn’t care.”

Hywel looked past her to the courtyard. Gwen turned to follow his gaze. Cadwaladr was still glaring at her, his hands on his hips. Then one of his men caught his attention and he turned away, back to the hall. He hurried to come even with Cadell, who stood at the top of the steps to the hall, looking righteous and self-satisfied.

“You should stay out of their way.” Hywel dabbed at the corner of her mouth with a handkerchief. “That has to hurt. He wore a ring.”

Gwen swallowed. “I’ve felt worse.” And she had, at her father’s hands.

Hywel gave her a dark look.

“If you need me, I’ll be with Gareth.” She made to push past him but he held her arm and pulled her closer so he could look into her eyes.

“I recommend that you do not sing with your brother during dinner tonight.”

“The sight of those lords makes me sick anyway.”

Hywel released her but didn’t leave and she led him past the horseboxes to the rear of the stables. He pulled up short just as one of the guards drove his fist into Gareth’s belly. Before Gwen could scream, Hywel clapped a hand over her mouth. “Quiet. Give it a moment.”

Gwen pulled away. “How can you stand by and do nothing?”

“You’d have me fire all the arrows in my quiver before the start of battle?” Hywel said. “That is unwise. Gareth has experienced worse. They’ll tire of him presently.” As he spoke, a guard twisted Gareth’s arm and he collapsed forward, just as another guard brought up his knee. Gareth folded in half over it with a moan.

Gwen glared at Hywel, hating him in that moment. At his steady gaze, however, she subsided, still in the shadows. She sucked on her lip, half-turned away from where Gareth’s guards continued to rough him up. She wanted to clap her hands over her ears. It wasn’t that Gareth cried or screamed, but his breathy moans were more than she could bear.

Finally, Hywel’s words proved true and Cadell’s men threw him face first into the cell. Gareth pushed up on his hands and turned back to them, blood pouring from a gash on his head. “
Dos i chwarae efo dy nain
!” The flames behind Gareth’s eyes could have lit the stables on fire.

Then a guard closed the door and the two men who remained settled themselves in front of the door, one leaning against the wall to the left of the door and the second on an overturned bucket.

“We’ll give them time to get bored,” Hywel said. “Come. We must make a plan.”

Reluctantly, Gwen returned with Hywel to his office. She slumped on the bench under the window, unable to think of anything to say.

Hywel plopped into his chair. “Damn.” He ran a hand across his brow. “What a day.”

“Damn right.” King Owain swung around the door frame and halted in the middle of the room. Both Gwen and Hywel stood, though Gwen didn’t think the King had even noticed her, so focused was he on his son. She tried to sidle towards the door, but stopped at Hywel’s warning look.

“Sir,” Hywel said.

King Owain put his hands on Hywel’s desk and leaned onto them. “I have put up with your defense of that man for four years, but no more.”

“Gareth had nothing to do with Anarawd’s death, Father.” Hywel said this very calmly, his back straight and his hands resting at his sides.

King Owain went red to the roots of his hair. He pointed his finger at his son. “How dare you defend him!”

 “I must defend him. He is my man.” Hywel paused. “Besides, in this case, Cadell is quite mistaken. Gareth did not take the seal from Anarawd. Gwen gave it to him.”

“Gwen!” King Owain spun on his heel to glare at Gwen. She backed away until she hit the wall behind her and couldn’t go any further. She gazed at the King wide-eyed, unable to speak. King Owain turned back to Hywel. “Explain.”

“Of course.” Hywel flicked his eyes to Gwen and then back to his father. Gwen held her breath, waiting for what he would say. “According to Cristina, who gave the seal to Gwen, Cadell himself had it in his quarters. That is where she found it. It may be that Cadell’s accusation of Gareth is an attempt to distract us from his own perfidy.”

King Owain pressed up against Hywel’s desk, his face nearly purple with anger. “What did you say? How dare you bring Cristina into this!”

“He speaks the truth, my lord.”

Cristina stepped through the doorway into Hywel’s office and very gently closed the door behind her. She shot Gwen a look that told Gwen not to speak. As Gwen was trembling from head to foot, she was hardly going to challenge her future queen. At the same time, Gwen had to ask herself, what game was Cristina playing?