*
As the outer walls of Caer Brynfawr came into view, Gerard tensed. What sort of greeting awaited them? Marared was likely here already, since she’d had a head start and knew the way. What had she told Caradoc? Where did her loyalties lie?
They were barely in the gate when Caradoc came out to meet them. He glanced around before approaching Gerard. “Where’s Marared?”
Gerard sat up even straighter. Marared hadn’t made it back. That was alarming. It could mean she’d joined up with Rhys. Or worse, something had happened to her. Gerard slid off his horse and handed the reins off to the waiting groom. “Can you see to it that my men and the horses are given food and water?”
Caradoc barked out the order. When he returned his gaze to Gerard, his expression was fierce. “Out with it, man. Has something happened to my daughter?”
“Let us go into the hall. I’ll tell what I know.”
Once inside, Caradoc seemed to remember his duties in greeting a guest. He had water brought so Gerard could wash, then urged him to sit at the large table. A servant brought a bowl of steaming stew, along with flagon and two cups.
“Drink some mead.” Caradoc motioned to the flagon. “But then, by all that is holy, tell me what’s happened to my daughter!”
Gerard would have preferred water to mead. But perhaps the potent beverage would help steady his nerves. He took a swallow and began to explain.
When he finished, the chieftain was silent. Gerard watched him uneasily. He had no idea how Caradoc would react. He might blame Gerard for what had happened at Castell Ystwyth.
Caradoc let out a sigh. “I should never have risked sending my daughter to meet with Gwenwynwyn. Although I did think you’d be able to protect her. Of course, protecting her is always a chancy thing. You can’t protect someone you can’t control, and that’s my Marared.”
Gerard nodded. “I certainly wish I had done things differently. I was uneasy about entering the fortress. It seemed like a trap, and it was.”
“And I should never have trusted Gwenwynwyn. I should have thought harder about what he had to gain. He’s too far away for me to truly aid him in battle, which means an alliance with me is of little use to him. But this plan of his…what the devil was he thinking? Even if he convinced Marared to refute the marriage and wed him, what was he going to do with you? He surely couldn’t let you go and expect you to do nothing after he’d stolen your wife. And if he meant to kill you, why didn’t he do so immediately?”
“I know. It makes little sense. Perhaps he hadn’t thought things through. Or maybe, rather than killing me outright, he intended to imprison me indefinitely.” Gerard repressed a shudder. He’d almost rather die than languish in that dark, dank prison for months or years.
Caradoc flexed his shoulders. “At least Madog got a conscience before it was too late and freed you.”
“I don’t think he was motivated by his conscience, but by his fear of what was going to happen to him. I think once he heard Marared had escaped, he realized Rhys’s whole scheme was falling apart.”
Caradoc eyes widened. “Rhys? You’re speaking of my nephew?”
“Aye. Madog said Rhys ap Cynan was behind everything. He was the one who convinced Gwenwynwyn to lure Marared to Ystwyth with the idea of forcing her to wed him.”
The chieftain’s expression grew hard. “That sneaky little weasel. I’ve had my conflicts with Rhys, but I never thought he’d do this to me…or to Marared.”
“Ah, but Marared and Rhys have been working together for some time.” Caradoc’s son Maelgwn spoke from the shadows. Gerard hadn’t even been aware of him sitting in a corner of the hall.
Caradoc turned to his son, glowering. “What do you know of it?”
Maelgwn took another swallow from the cup he cradled in his hands and jerked his head toward Gerard. “When you stopped here on your way to Ystwyth, she met with Rhys. And I know she’s been in contact with him other times since you wed her. Ask Aoife. She’ll tell you.”
Gerard thought back to when Marared insisted on meeting with Aoife. At the time, he’d thought there was something odd about Marared wanting to travel all that way to meet with her cousin for such a brief time. Most likely she had used Aoife to pass on a message to Rhys. She’d probably asked his aid in getting rid of her unwanted husband.
Gerard felt sick. Marared had plotted to end the marriage. He’d known how she felt when they married but he’d thought she’d begun to warm to him. It was brutal to realize she’d been so unaffected. That she cared so little for him. But even so, he couldn’t believe she’d been involved in Gwenwynwyn’s scheme. Why go all the way to Ystwyth and then run away?
He said as much to Caradoc. The chieftain shook his head and didn’t respond.
It was Maelgwn who answered. “That’s where Rhys made his mistake. He thought he could use Marared to get what he wanted. But we all know better. Marared will bend her will to no man.”
Caradoc gave his son a stony look. “By the saints, if you knew all this, why didn’t you say something? Why did you let this wretched mess unfold and not speak out?”
“I didn’t know anything about this scheme with Gwenwynwyn. As for Marared plotting with Rhys, I didn’t think that was any of my business. ’Tis Marared’s life, not mine.”
Caradoc pounded the table. “What did you think, that Rhys is doing this simply to get back at the English? Nay, his goal is to take my place as chieftain. If that happens, then where will you be? Do you suppose Rhys will see fit to let you drink wine and mead all day? He’ll fortify this holding and use it as a base for his raids. And insist any able-bodied man join his warband. You’ll have to get used to sleeping rough and risking your life. That is, if Rhys allows you to live. He’s a canny wolf. The type to eliminate all potential rivals. He’ll want my line to die out completely. Which means getting rid of you.”
Maelgwn finally seemed to rouse from his lazy stupor. He stared at his father in shock. Seeing his son’s expression, Caradoc’s anger drained away. “I don’t suppose Marared considered these things either. Catriona was right. I’ve been too soft on my children. I wanted you to have an easier life than me, to not always be fighting and strategizing. But I failed to prepare you for the grim realities and responsibilities that come with our status.” He closed his eyes, looking weary. “And now my daughter may have allied herself with her treacherous, power-mad cousin and inadvertently brought us all down.”
Tendrils of dread curled around Gerard’s heart. Had Marared’s impulsive, stubborn nature brought ruin to her family? Caradoc was a loyal ally and a good man. If what he predicted came to pass, Marared, who had fought so hard for her freedom and independence, would not only lose all control over her own circumstances, but have to bear the guilt for the deaths of her father and brother. ’Twas a terrible fate. He would not wish it on any woman, let alone the fierce, maddening maiden who had stolen his heart.
But they didn’t know for certain Marared was allied with Rhys. She’d fled Ystwyth and avoided marrying Gwenwynwyn, which suggested she was now defying Rhys. But where was she? The band of anxiety around Gerard’s chest tightened.
An older man named Meurig appeared in the doorway, his weathered face set in grim lines. “A messenger came to the gate. Rhys ap Cynan has Marared. He says he’s willing to ransom her.”
Gerard looked at Caradoc, who appeared as stunned as he was.
“Bring the messenger here!” Caradoc ordered.
“He’s left already. Didn’t want to face you, I reckon.”
“Who was it?”
“Young Hywel. Davy’s youngest.”
Caradoc exhaled in disgust. “Traitorous little fool!”
“What’s the ransom?” Gerard was as shocked as Caradoc, but also relieved. At least Marared was safe.
“He wants twenty marks of gold,” Meurig said. “And he insists Lord Gerard bring the ransom…alone.”
Caradoc swore an oath. “Scheming bastard has lost his wits! I don’t have that sor
t of wealth. The wretched fool has vastly overreached himself this time. If I called up all the men who owe me fealty, my army would be thrice his, at least.”
“But what about Marared?” Gerard asked. “If we don’t pay Rhys, will he hurt her?”
Caradoc raised his brows. “They’re kin. And she’s a woman.”
“You’re certain she’ll be safe?”
Gerard thought he saw a flicker of doubt in Caradoc’s eyes. His own fear grew. When it came to seizing power, men could be utterly ruthless. It was rumored King John had killed his own nephew. And Richard’s harsh betrayal of his father, King Henry, had almost certainly contributed to Henry’s death. Even so, it seemed unbelievable that Rhys was power-mad enough to kill a woman, and his cousin.
Caradoc recovered his composure. “What good would it do Rhys to kill her? If he did that, even his own men would turn against him. We have some honor here in Cymru. We’re not the savage beasts the English make us out to be.”
Normally, Caradoc’s words would have made Gerard feel better. But they were talking about Marared. He wasn’t willing to risk her life, despite her father’s assurances. If there was even the slimmest possibility Rhys might hurt her, he had to do everything he could to rescue her. “Is Father Idwal or some other scribe around? I need to send a message to Fawkes and let him know what has happened.”
Caradoc gestured. “I’ll send for Father Idwal. If you want to apprize your liege lord of the situation, that’s all well and good. But even if de Cressy agrees to the pay the ransom, I think it would be a grave mistake to do so. Rhys doesn’t care a bit about the gold. His goal is to see you dead.”
With him dead, Marared would be free to marry again. And this time, Rhys likely wouldn’t bother finding someone to marry her off to, but instead wed her himself. Since they were cousins, the marriage would probably not be sanctioned by the Church. But that might not carry much weight here in Cymru.
Gerard thought about how much Marared would hate being a pawn in Rhys’s schemes. Even if she had once plotted with her cousin, she would despise being coerced into marriage with him.
Caradoc motioned to Meurig. “Fetch Father Idwal. Then find some fit, young man to ride to Valmar Castle. Make certain the youth is trustworthy. Hard to know who is loyal these days, especially the younger men. I’m not entirely surprised Rhys has turned against me. But it’s disappointing to think that others of my men have aided him.”
Caradoc’s face sagged. Gerard felt a sudden sympathy for the genial chieftain. Caradoc was a good man…perhaps too good. It often seemed the most callous and cruel were the ones who prevailed.
Men like Rhys. Fear coursed through Gerard. It would take several days to get a response from Fawkes. He couldn’t wait that long. Marared was clearly being held someplace close to Caer Brynfawr. “Where do you think they are?” he asked Caradoc in a low voice.
The chieftain rose, making a tiny motion with his head in the direction of his son as he did so. “I’ve no idea. There are so many valleys around here, they could be anywhere. There’s not much we can do until Father Idwal gets here. Might as well go out and look at the new foals. We had a fine crop this year.”
Gerard also got to his feet. “I heard one of your hounds had puppies a few weeks ago. I was wondering if you would be willing to part with one.”
“An excellent idea. They’re in the main barn. The bitch whelped here in the hall, but we had to move them when they got big enough to get underfoot.”
They went out to the yard. Caradoc spoke gloomily. “Sad to say, I’m not sure I trust my own son. For all I know, Maelgwn is spying for Rhys.”
“My thoughts exactly. But now that we’re alone, do you have an answer for me? Do you know where Rhys might be holding Marared?”
“I’ve some idea. Do you think we should try to surprise them?”
“Do you think it’s possible? What’s the risk of Marared being hurt if we do?”
“I told you, I don’t think Rhys will harm her. You’re the one he’s after. If we attempt a rescue, I don’t think you should be a part of it.”
Gerard seized the chieftain’s arm. “Marared is my wife. I must do whatever I can to free her.”
Carodoc nodded, then wrinkled his brow in thought. “If we attack at night, and you dressed as a Cymro, you would not be so much at risk.”
“But that means no helmet or mail.” How could he go into battle without proper armor? He’d feel exposed and vulnerable. “Besides, if we’re dressed no different than them, and it’s dark, how will we tell our men from theirs?”
“We can smear our faces with charcoal. An old trick of raiding.”
Gerard still felt uncomfortable with the plan. “But I’m taller than most Cymro, and I don’t have a mustache. Nor long hair.”
“With your face obscured by charcoal, your lack of facial hair will not be so noticeable. And, perhaps you don’t realize how much your hair has grown since you first came here. ’Tis not quite as long as a Cymro, but passable.”
“And my height?”
“One or two of my men are close to you in stature. And we’ll have the element of surprise. That’s the important thing.”
“You don’t think Rhys will anticipate an attack?”
“Nay. He’ll expect you to behave like a Sais.”
“Which means….?”
“Charge in on horseback in full armor. Or maybe he thinks you’re fool enough to bring him the ransom. Everyone knows you’re besotted with Marared.”
“Is it so obvious?”
Caradoc grinned. “The way you look at her makes it very clear. You’re normally stiff and cold, like the rest of your race. But when you gaze at my daughter, your face goes soft.” Carodoc clapped him on the back. “I’m pleased to see it. I’d worried her fiery, independent nature would annoy you.”
“And her…” Gerard hesitated, feeling like an utter dolt. “What do you think Marared feels for me?”
“When you stopped here on the way to Ystwyth, it seemed to me she was warming to you.”
Warming to him. That was a far cry from what he wanted her to feel for him. And from the intense longing he felt for her. The deep need to protect her and do whatever he could to make her happy.
Caradoc slapped him on the back again. “Don’t worry. Despite her temper and sometimes childish outlook, Marared isn’t stupid. She’ll come to admire your loyalty and steadfastness in time.”
Admiration was hardly what he wanted either! Gerard struggled to shake off the aching disappointment. He would not give up. Once he got her back, he would find a way to make her love him. “Who will we take with us? What men do you trust?”
Caradoc turned grim. “After all that’s happened, I can truly count only a handful of my warriors. I’ll have Owain round them up. Meanwhile…” He motioned to an empty stall at the end of the stables. “Have a look at the puppies and decide which one you’d like to take back to Tangwyl.”
Carodoc left. Gerard entered the stall and gazed down at the bitch surrounded by her squirming, whining puppies. The little creatures were very endearing, but he could not focus on them. Until he got Marared back safely, nothing else mattered.
Chapter Twenty
Gerard felt like he might as well be naked. Bad enough that he wore no helm and his only protection was a boiled leather vest, which was too small and made him feel as if he couldn’t breathe properly. But traveling on foot truly unnerved him. Not that they’d had a choice in leaving their horses behind. The countryside here was so rugged, even the most sure-footed mountain pony would be at risk of losing its footing and throwing its rider.
The hillside was dotted with crags and outcrops. Gorse and thorn bushes concealed piles of rough gray stones. The cloud cover was heavy, and allowed only the smallest hint of light to seep through from the half moon. Gerard felt like he was stumbling around in total darkness. Meanwhile, his companions seemed to move with nimble swiftness, as if they were part cat, part mountain goat.
His grea
ter height and size were also a disadvantage. Caradoc had taken one look at him in his borrowed garments and shaken his head. “Even with the charcoal masking your features, you can’t pass. Your build is too distinctive. You’ll have to wait behind until we’ve freed Marared. Then you can help us if there’s further need.”
The man ahead of him halted suddenly and Gerard nearly ran into him. “Over this rise,” the man murmured.
A few moments later, they all gathered around Caradoc. The chieftain spoke in a near whisper. “Ifan reports all is quiet.” He motioned with his head to the young warrior. “But we still don’t know for certain where they’re keeping Marared. We need to get down there without being seen, find Marared, disable whoever is guarding her and get her out of there as fast as possible. Remember, this is not about inflicting damage or getting back at these men for being traitorous curs. Our only objective is freeing Marared. Do you understand?’
All the men murmured their assent. Gerard’s clenched his jaw. She’s my wife. I should be the one to rescue her!
But he had to think of the outcome, rather than the urgings of his heart. He must give Caradoc’s plan every chance to succeed. Even so, as the troop of warriors set off, leaving him behind, his body was rigid with frustration.
He waited, listening to the usual night sounds: the hoot of an owl. The bleat of a sheep in the distance. The slow, musical trickle of water over rocks. Time crept by. Sweat accumulated under the suffocating leather jerkin and made him itch. He thought about what he would do and say when he got Marared back. How he would hold her in his arms and tell he loved her, even if there were dozens of people watching.
But what if she wouldn’t let him near her? What if she didn’t want to be rescued? What if she was a willing participant in Rhys’s plan?
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