Dai said, “We did the right thing, didn’t we?”
“I didn’t know what else to do but to stay with them,” Tomos said, continuing his apology. “I feared they would try to find you whether I came with them or not.”
Gareth turned to his wife. “There’s no point in speculating what Prior Rhys wanted. We should simply return to the castle.”
“What about Ieuan?” Dai said.
“I will deal with him when I see him.” Gareth checked the sky. “We’ve been gone all day. I don’t understand what’s happening here.”
“How did you get here?” Gwen said.
“Tomos rode. We ran,” Dai said.
Gareth laughed and ruffled his hair, no more able to stay angry at the boys than Gwen.
“Do you know Ieuan well? Could he be some kind of traitor, too?” Gwen said, as Gareth boosted her into her saddle. “Or a spy?”
“He’s been attached to Prince Rhun’s company since last autumn.” Gareth adjusted Gwen’s foot in her stirrup. “It was foolish of me not to have been on the lookout for treachery in our own camp. I just don’t know what else I could have done to avert it.”
“I’ve felt lost since we entered Newcastle,” Gwen said. “I think our problem is simply that we’re in England.”
“Why do you say that?” Llelo said.
“The rules aren’t the same,” Gwen said, “and I don’t just mean that our laws are different from the ones the people live by here. If David had been murdered at Aber, we know exactly what would have happened: King Owain would have turned to Hywel, who would have turned to Gareth. We would have questioned everyone in the castle and systematically chipped away at the lies to get to the truth. But here … ever since yesterday morning, we’ve been fumbling about in the dark, with no authority, no ability to question anyone properly, and yet we’re still involved with spies and multiple murders. It feels all wrong.”
Gareth patted her leg. “I fear it’s going to get worse before it gets better. I can send you home if you would prefer it.”
Gwen wrinkled her nose at him. “And leave you to settle this yourself? I don’t think so.”
“It’s a genuine offer.” Gareth tossed Llelo up to ride behind Gwen, mounted his horse, and pulled Dai up behind him. “I would feel better if you were home, but I’m concerned about you getting there.”
“Which is why you aren’t going to send me away,” Gwen said.
“If he sent you, he’d probably send us too,” Llelo said from behind her. “We don’t want to go either.”
Gwen put out a hand to Gareth. “Alard could be watching us right now.”
“I don’t think so,” Gareth said. “He heard something, or sensed someone approaching, and either met them or fled from them. I have the feeling that in his mind, the farmhouse has served its purpose. Besides which, I don’t find the idea that Alard is spying on us as worrisome as I might have when we woke up this morning. He wants something from us, and as long as we appear to be doing as he asks—”
“—though not because he asked it,” Gwen said.
“—then we’re safe from him,” Gareth said. “In fact, I would be more surprised if he didn’t find a way to keep an eye on us than if he did. He can’t ask questions himself at this point, and it’s his name, not ours, that needs clearing.”
“What about the safety of Prince Henry?” Gwen said.
“Prince Henry is a concern, but what happens to him is almost entirely out of our hands,” Gareth said. “If his mother and Earl Robert don’t have him well protected, they’re fools.”
“You already thought she was foolish for allowing him to come to England in the first place,” Gwen said.
“True, though for all that she’s his mother, it might not have been entirely up to her.” Gareth grinned at the trio of young boys with them: strong-willed sons were rather thick on the ground at present.
They’d come out of the wood on its western side and followed the trail the boys had taken from the camp. Reversing their steps, they now approached the Lyme Brook at a point almost equidistant between their encampment and the castle. Gareth stopped at the ford they would need to cross to return to the castle. “Tomos, I need you to escort the boys back to camp.”
“But sir! I must see to Prior Rhys!” Tomos said.
“Not today.” Gareth said, putting as much authority as he could into his voice. He poked Dai’s leg. “This is where you get off, boys.”
Llelo and Dai slid to the ground.
“What? No complaints?” Gwen said.
Dai shook his head. “You’re going to the castle. I don’t want to enter there. We might never get out again.”
“And why would that be?” Gareth said.
“Too many Saxons,” Llelo said.
Gareth laughed. “I can’t disagree. Be off with you, then.”
The boys took off running, but Tomos still hesitated. “My lord—”
Gwen leaned in. “Thank you for taking them under your wing when we couldn’t—and for listening to them. I would feel better if you stayed with them.”
Tomos swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “My duty is to my master.”
“We will see to him,” Gareth said. “I want you out of harm’s way.”
Tomos bowed his head. “Yes, my lord.” He spurred his horse after Llelo and Dai.
Once Gareth and Gwen were sure the boys were well on their way, they trotted their horses across the ford and turned their heads towards Newcastle. As they approached the gateway, the sun low in the sky behind them, Gareth found himself a little ahead of Gwen. She’d slowed, and he pulled up to wait for her to come abreast. “I feel as reluctant as those boys,” she said.
“You could have gone back to the camp with them,” Gareth said. “You could go now.”
“And wish away the evening waiting for you to return?” Gwen said. “Anything I face in there is better than that.”
“We’ll see if you still think so by the time the sun sets,” Gareth said. “At least we have some news for Hywel.”
“I’m glad we heard Alard’s side of the story,” Gwen said, “though it doesn’t make me trust these Normans any more than I did before.”
Gareth laughed. “You didn’t trust them at all before.” He reached out and squeezed her hand.
They passed under the gatehouse. Gruffydd had been keeping an eye out for them, because he came to meet them as they reined in. “Thanks be to God, you’re here.”
“We feared something was wrong. What is it?” Gareth tossed his reins to the stable boy who waited for them and dropped to the ground. He caught Gwen as she dismounted.
“Prior Rhys and Mari have disappeared,” Gruffydd said.
Gareth’s expression darkened while the blood drained from Gwen’s face. Gareth pulled her to him in a brief hug. “We’ll find them. Don’t worry.”
His words of comfort could only be a kindness. She couldn’t help but worry and he knew it, but she came with him up the steps to the keep, limping a little on her wounded ankle.
“This way.” Gruffydd eyed Gareth as they crossed the anteroom. “What happened to you?”
“It’s a long story,” Gareth said. “Who saw them last and at what time?”
“A maid brought Prior Rhys a meal some time after noon,” Gruffydd said, “but no one has seen them since.”
“That must have been about the time he sent a message to you, Gareth,” Gwen said.
Gruffydd knocked on a door and entered at Hywel’s command. They found themselves in a room Gareth hadn’t seen before, not that he’d spent very much time in Newcastle so far. It was furnished with a table and several spindle chairs but little else. No fire burned in the grate, and the shutter was open to the eastern sky. They had no more than an hour until sunset.
At their entrance, Hywel, who’d been looking out the window, turned to face them. “At last. We were just about to send out a search party for you.”
“We’re safe,” Gareth said. “What has
happened to Prior Rhys and Mari?”
“We don’t know,” Rhun said, rising from one of the chairs. “The maid reports that when she brought him a tray of food, the prior was sitting up in bed, awake, with Mari beside him. Nobody has seen either of them since then.”
“Could this have something to do with Alard?”
Gareth glanced towards the voice. Sir Amaury leaned against the wall in the corner of the room.
“How could it?” Gwen said.
“Prince Hywel has informed me of Prior Rhys’s former identity as one of the horsemen,” Amaury said. “Perhaps he went to meet Alard?”
“Alard may have contacted Prior Rhys,” Gareth said, “but I find it unlikely that Alard abducted them. If they went with him, they did so of their own accord.”
“How would you know that?” Amaury took a step forward.
“Because of the hour,” Gareth said. “When did the maid say she brought the tray?”
“All she remembered was that the bell had rung for sext some time before, but not for none,” Prince Rhun said, referring to the mid-afternoon toll of the chapel bell, which at the friary would have called the monks to prayer.
Gwen tugged on Gareth’s sleeve and spoke in Welsh. “We were at the farmhouse by then, and likely, so was Alard.”
“You went to the farmhouse?” Hywel said, in the same language. “The horsemen’s farmhouse?”
Gareth nodded. “Gwen told me of it, and she and I decided that we would find it this morning.”
Amaury joined their little circle, his brow furrowed. “What are you saying? Speak French so I can understand!”
Gareth pursed his lips, sorry that he had angered Amaury. He’d never seen the Norman knight so worked up. “Gwen and I went looking for Alard today. Instead, Alard found us.”
“You spoke to him? What did he say?” Amaury said.
“A great deal,” Gareth said. “He insists that while he did kill David, it was because David tried to murder him. He also claims to still be loyal to Maud.”
“He would say that,” Prince Hywel said.
“As would any man, guilty or not,” Gareth said.
“But we believed him—at least enough to keep digging deeper,” Gwen said.
Amaury looked at Gareth warily. “Is that why you let him go?”
“I wasn’t in a position to gainsay him when he wanted to leave,” Gareth said.
With a nod, Amaury bowed. “If you’ll excuse me, I must report to Philippe and instruct my men. We should continue the search for Prior Rhys and Mari outside the castle.” Amaury departed.
“I’ve looked everywhere inside Newcastle,” Hywel’s brow remain furrowed, “even to the point of inspecting the barrels in the cellar for bodies instead of drink.”
“Why didn’t you tell Amaury about the farmhouse, Gareth?” Gwen said.
“Because he has superiors,” Gareth said. “I didn’t feel it was my place to reveal that particular secret if Alard and the other horsemen had kept it for so long: not to Amaury, not to Philippe, not to anyone.” He looked at Prince Hywel. “I’m surprised you told him that Prior Rhys was a horseman.”
“I needed something to reveal,” Hywel said, “to encourage his confidence in us. It was either that or speak of the emerald.”
“This investigation would be less complicated if everybody would just tell the truth,” Gwen said.
“Heaven forfend!” Hywel said. “How unusual that would be!”
“Whatever has happened to Prior Rhys and Mari,” Gwen said, “at least we know that Rhys never intended to disappear without telling someone where he was going.”
“How so?” Prince Rhun said.
“After he was unable to find you or your brother, Gruffydd, or Evan, he sent Tomos to the camp to find me,” Gareth said. “We weren’t there, and your man, Ieuan, never passed on the message.”
“What?” Prince Rhun said. “Could you be mistaken?”
Gareth shook his head. “Now it seems we have a traitor among us too.”
Chapter Sixteen
Hywel
Hywel was concerned about Mari’s absence. Of course he was. But he was also concerned by the fact that he was concerned. It had been a long time since he’d paid attention to any woman for more than one night. The trouble with Mari was that he hadn’t paid attention to her for any night—and every one of his friends, companions, brothers, and the rest—would have his head if he had.
To add to his difficulties, he had to be courteous and diplomatic to a castle full of Normans, any one of whom he would gladly have faced on a battlefield for the sheer pleasure of spilling Norman blood.
Just this morning, Rhun had lectured him about respecting the opinions of others, even when their beliefs differed from his own. Hywel had nodded politely, but rare was the time when Hywel’s internal thoughts coincided with his outward expression. If he spoke what he thought, he would jeopardize everything his father had built in Gwynedd.
So he didn’t.
Hywel eyed Gareth and Amaury, who had finally returned from seeing to his men so they could begin the search for Mari and Prior Rhys. Gareth was one of the few men with whom Hywel felt he could share his opinions to any degree. But knowing that Amaury had lied about the empress’s presence, even if ordered to by Philippe, made Hywel distrust every word coming from Amaury’s mouth.
“My lord.” Gareth turned to Hywel. “Amaury suggests that we begin the search along the river.”
“In case they drowned?” Hywel said. “Rhys is a wounded man and Mari couldn’t have gone ten paces with him outside the castle without someone noticing.”
Amaury coughed. “The castle is very busy. There’s the postern gate, though we checked with the guard and he saw nothing.”
“I assume he wasn’t drunk?” Gareth said.
“Or bribed?” Hywel said.
Amaury ran a hand through his hair. “You don’t think much of the discipline of my men, do you?”
“Most men can be bought if the price is right,” Hywel said.
“Perhaps the wall walk—” Amaury stopped, his face flushing.
“Do you suggest she descended by rope like Alard? Don’t be absurd.” Hywel knew he was being rude, but he had no patience for this. Mari had been gone most of the day, and Hywel felt like it was his fault. He had deliberately not gone to check on her because of his conflicting emotions, busying himself with meeting and greeting the dozens of Norman noblemen here at Newcastle. And now she’d disappeared to God knew where.
“Mari would go down that rope if she had to, but I can’t see her doing it in broad daylight,” Gwen said. “Someone would have noticed. Certainly, Prior Rhys would have been in no condition to do so.”
“Is there another way out of the castle besides the two gates?” Hywel said.
Gwen peered at Amaury. “You’ve just had an idea. What is it?”
“There is another way, but I can’t imagine...”
Hywel glared at him. To his credit, Amaury didn’t wilt under his gaze, and Hywel’s estimation of the man went up a notch.
“The tunnel,” Amaury said.
“What tunnel?” Rhun said.
“You’re not supposed to know about it,” Amaury said, “and Philippe will surely have my head for telling you. It runs north from underneath the old motte. Earl Robert started his work on the expansion of Newcastle before he knew of it and decided to continue despite the hole it created in his defenses. It isn’t so different from a postern gate except that access to it is more hidden.”
“Would Prior Rhys have known of it?” Hywel said.
“Rhys has lived a quiet life since he joined the monastery, or so I understand,” Rhun said, “but from what I’ve seen of the man, he always has his eyes open, watching, even if he’s too much of a man of God to pass judgment. I would be surprised if he didn’t know of it.”
With Rhun’s observation, Hywel reminded himself—and not for the first time—that just because his brother thought the best of everyone didn�
��t mean that he was simple. He had a strategic intellect that observed everything, even if he, like Prior Rhys, kept his judgments to himself.
Amaury looked nonplussed. “I don’t know about that, but I can tell you that while the initial entrance to the tunnel was in the old keep, built by the original owner of the castle, another entrance was added after the tunnel was explored and enlarged.”
“Where’s the entrance?” Gareth said.
“I can show you,” Amaury said. “It leads away from the river.”
“As you would expect,” Hywel said, “else it would be full of water year round.”
Amaury shrugged. “Earl Robert has great plans for the defenses of the castle, including the construction of a moat, but in order to do that, the tunnel will be drowned.”
“I can see how the earl would have to weigh the cost of one versus the benefit of the other,” Hywel said. “Will you lead us to it now?”
Amaury didn’t answer. He seemed to be warring with himself as to what to do.
“You’ve told us about it,” Gwen said, “and it’s too late to take the knowledge back.”
Amaury clenched his jaw and then jerked his head in a nod. “I am tasked with discovering the truth about David’s death. Earl Robert will forgive me for following where that investigation leads.”
“Thank you. Not every man would have your courage to do what was right, even if it means countering a direct order.” Hywel bent his neck. “We appreciate your candor.”
“I suggest you stay here, my lords,” Gareth said to Hywel and Rhun. “It would be better if neither of you involved yourself further in this, for your own safety and in pursuit of amicable relations between Gwynedd and England.”
Hywel scoffed. “How could those words have possibly come from your mouth?”
Gareth had the grace to look abashed. “I apologize for suggesting it, my lord, but it would be better if you stayed here. Evening is coming on. What if Earl Robert invites you to his table?”
“Then he’ll just have to eat with Rhun.” Hywel turned to his brother. “You can tell him I’m indisposed.”
Rhun nodded. He enjoyed an adventure as much as Hywel, but he was the elder son and took his responsibilities seriously. He knew Hywel would tell him all about it when he got back.
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