Gareth faced front again and continued walking, very aware of how closely Alard was following him. While Alard kept his face averted, Gareth lifted a hand to the guard watching the entrance, who by now knew him by sight. The guard, trained to stop men from entering the castle as opposed to leaving it, waved them through.
Gareth paced a dozen yards away from the castle entrance before he turned on the Norman spy. “What are you doing here? What if someone had recognized you?”
“Now that Empress Maud has arrived at Newcastle, I must speak with her, to plead my case. I hoped that you could get me in to see her.”
“Not I,” Gareth said. “Abandon the idea. Earl Robert’s orders are to arrest you if we can or to kill you if you resist.”
“I must try.”
“She’s meeting with her brother and counselors right now, including my princes. You’ll never get past the guards at the door, not even if I accompany you. Such is the feeling against you that I fear they would cut you down and say you were killed trying to escape.”
Alard cursed and kicked at a clod of dirt in the road. “Might Prince Hywel defend me?”
“All of us have been defending you,” Gareth said. “It has done no good.”
“Has the empress spoken yet with Philippe?”
“You should assume that she has,” Gareth said. “During the evening meal, before the messenger arrived from Lincoln, her expression could have curdled milk.”
Alard looked down at the ground. “Once the empress gets an idea in her head, it is nearly impossible to unfix it. I am a condemned man.”
“You’ve been a condemned man for some time now. You may have had hope, but I wouldn’t view your current situation as changed in any way.” Gareth turned away and began walking down the road to the friary, leading his horse. Alard fell into step beside him, behaving as if he wasn’t a hunted man and could walk wherever he pleased. Because Alard appeared unconcerned about getting under cover, Gareth didn’t broach the subject.
Huts clustered to the left of the road, and the bell at St. Giles, the village church, tolled for compline. Most of the village’s huts and its market stood between the church and the castle, with the friary on the southeastern outskirts. As they left the village behind, the entrance to the friary came into view, lit with torches.
“You’re taking a risk, not turning me in,” Alard said.
Gareth kept walking. “Am I? My obligation is to my prince and after that to my king.”
“The empress might not see it that way,” Alard said. “If you were to arrest me, it might raise her estimation of your princes; she might favor them.”
Gareth pulled up. “Is that really what you think of us?”
Alard licked his lips. He hadn’t pushed back his hood, even in the dark of the road, and the lower half of his face was all Gareth could see. “What do you mean?”
A party of knights rode by them, heading for the friary. Alard took a step towards the trees that lined the right side of the road, turning his head away so he wouldn’t be recognized.
Once the horsemen were past, Gareth started walking again. He shook his head, thinking about Alard’s query. At times, the difference between his mindset and a Norman’s was vast and unbridgeable.
Alard took a couple of extra steps at a trot to catch up. “I apologize, Sir Gareth, if I offended you, but I don’t see the offense.”
“Prince Hywel and Rhun didn’t come to Newcastle to curry favor,” Gareth said. “There is nothing that Earl Robert or the empress can do for them that will aid them, other than rein in some of their more belligerent lords whose lands abut Gwynedd. They don’t want a place in the royal court. They don’t need the empress’s favor.”
“I see,” Alard said.
Gareth wasn’t sure that he really did, so he explained further: “We came here at Earl Robert’s request. King Owain hopes for an alliance of some kind, but would rather have none than appear as a petitioner. The King of Gwynedd wants peace and the freedom to govern his domains without interference from England. Prince Hywel and Rhun are ambassadors, not supplicants.”
Alard nodded. “I might suggest that you are naïve, but I do not wish to offend again. Still, you owe me nothing either. Why not turn me in?”
“If Prince Hywel returns to Gwynedd without learning the truth of these events,” Gareth said, “his father will be disappointed.”
Alard made to scoff, but when Gareth didn’t amend his statement, he swallowed it back down. “You’re serious?”
Gareth shrugged. “At the very least, Prince Hywel wants to shed light on David’s death so that his father can calculate the size of his losses. It is David’s death, however, that seems to be the least of anyone else’s concerns.”
“David attacked me; I killed him,” Alard said. “What more do you need to know?”
“But why did he attack you?” Gareth said. “Who sent him?”
“Philippe, of course.”
“Philippe told me forthrightly that he didn’t,” Gareth said.
Alard rubbed his chin. “Why would he lie about something like that?”
“Thus, my point,” Gareth said.
“Philippe is a dying man,” Alard said, as if it was something he was loath to admit. “His mind isn’t what it once was.”
“Are you suggesting he doesn’t remember sending David after you?” Gareth said.
“No … no. You’re right. He’s lying.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure.” The voice came from the trees to the right of the road, and then Ralph stepped out in front of Gareth and Alard.
Gareth was getting used to the way these spies appeared out of nowhere. “You were waiting for us.” He turned to Alard. “Were you really trying to see the empress, or did you merely use me as a means to exit Newcastle safely?”
“Does it matter?” Alard said softly.
“I suppose not.” Gareth looked at Ralph. “Now that you’re here, I’d like to finish our conversation from the chapel. It’s long past time I knew all that you know.”
Ralph and Alard exchanged a look, which in the darkness Gareth couldn’t interpret, but they seemed to decide to go along with what Gareth wanted for now.
“Alard and I have known each other a long time,” Ralph said. “When I came to him with the news of the plot against Prince Henry, he and I agreed to pool our resources to learn what we could about it. Since I no longer existed—and almost immediately he learned that he was a wanted man—our task was made doubly difficult.”
“I knew that if I wasn’t the traitor, someone else had to be,” Alard said, “but I didn’t know who that might be. When David asked to meet me, I agreed and suggested the castle, whose inhabitants had swelled sufficiently in number for me to lose myself among them. David had lied about wanting to talk, however, because he attacked me on the wall walk without warning.”
Ralph nodded. “I came too late to see anything but the end.”
“While Alard escaped by rope, you made your way downstream to meet him, is that right?” Gareth said.
“Yes,” Ralph said.
“Why didn’t you mention the emeralds when we spoke at the farmhouse?” Gareth said to Alard.
Alard’s brow furrowed. “I was gathering information while imparting as little as possible. Since I didn’t have the emeralds, and I didn’t know at the time that David had been given one, it wasn’t something I was willing to discuss with a possible enemy. I certainly never thought that you might have one.”
Gareth nodded, admitting that he would have behaved no differently. He looked at Ralph. “Yet you chose to speak of the gems at the chapel. Why?”
“Alard’s situation had grown even more imperiled,” said Ralph. “I needed your help.”
“It was a good choice to trust us, given that we now appear to be your only hope,” Gareth said, unable to keep an edge of bitterness out of his voice.
Ralph gazed west towards the castle. “Perhaps Earl Robert—” He stopped and then shook his head, dism
issing the thought.
“Robert wants the truth,” Gareth said, “but not at the expense of men and time he doesn’t feel he has. I get the sense that he is a very pragmatic man.”
“That he is,” Alard said.
“Unlike his sister,” Ralph said, as if stating an obvious truth. Then he lifted his chin. “You should come with us to find Philippe now and get to the bottom of this.”
“Back at the abandoned chapel, you said that only Alard and Prior Rhys knew you were still alive, but that was a lie,” Gareth said. “Philippe must have known all this time, too.”
“He did.”
“But he didn’t think to ask you—the man imbedded in King Stephen’s court—if you had come to the same conclusions about Alard as he had?” Gareth said.
“He may have,” Ralph said, “but since Alard was my liaison and Philippe no longer trusted him, such a discussion could only be held in person. Philippe is too ill to travel, and he would never have jeopardized my mission by summoning me here.”
Gareth ran a hand through his hair. “The friary must be in an uproar now that the empress has arrived. How are you going to get past all those people who not only know you, but who work for Philippe and know that Alard is the man he most wants to find?”
“If you came with us—” Alard said.
Gareth closed his eyes. These men had no sense of self-preservation.
“What would you have us do instead?” Alard said. “Return to the farmhouse for our safety or find our way to the Welsh camp?”
“Nobody there knows who you are except for Gwen and Prior Rhys,” Gareth said.
“We cannot hide,” Alard said, “not while Prince Henry remains in danger.”
Gareth hated his choices, but they weren’t going to change just because he wanted them to. He sighed. “We’ll go in the back way, across the fields.”
“Thank you,” Ralph said.
They left the road, threading their way between the village and the adjacent fields which belonged to the friary. They followed the line of the hill upon which St. Giles Church perched until the wall that surrounded the abbey proper gave way to field markers and a split rail fence. It was a matter of a moment to hop the fence and then take a pathway between the fields. They could see well enough without a torch, since the sky remained clear and the moon had risen. May was one of the driest months of the year in England. Gareth was glad he’d left off his cloak.
As they approached the herb garden, Gareth slowed and put out a hand to his companions. “You know the friary better than I. Which sleeping chamber is Philippe’s?”
“I would think Philippe would be the last person you would want to see!”
The voice boomed from behind them, and the three companions swung around to find ten men, with swords at the ready, boxing them in against a hedge. Philippe himself stepped out from between two of his men.
If anything, Philippe looked worse than he had that morning in his office. The torchlight cast his face in an unhealthy-looking, yellowish glow, and Gareth felt he could see right through Philippe’s skin to the tissue and blood beneath. Worn though he was, Phillipe stood straight and didn’t take the arm of the man next to him, even though the soldier held out his elbow in case Philippe needed it.
“Seize him!” Philippe pointed at Alard, who’d flung back the hood of his cloak, no longer trying to hide.
Philippe’s men moved at the same time Gareth did, leaping in front of Alard, sword out. “No. Stay back!”
Philippe’s men pulled up, just outside of Gareth’s reach. Philippe didn’t have any archers with him, so Gareth had no fear of being felled from a distance. “What are you doing, Sir Gareth?” Philippe said.
“I could ask the same of you,” Gareth said. “I gather you had me followed?” At Philippe’s nod, Gareth added, “We came only to talk.”
Philippe pointed a shaky hand at Alard. “That man is a traitor.”
“I do not believe that he is,” Gareth said, “and if you give us a chance to talk about it, I think you will no longer believe it either.”
“You cannot accept anything he says,” Philippe said. “He lies as a matter of course.”
“And you don’t?”
Philippe’s mouth twitched, and Gareth could have sworn the man said ‘touché’ under his breath.
Then Ralph pushed back his hood and stepped forward. “We really have just come to talk, Philippe.”
Philippe gritted his teeth. “I’d hoped you’d gone back to London. You are not needed here. Your position is too important to risk over one man’s life.”
“Even if that life belongs to Prince Henry?” Ralph said.
“It is Alard who threatens it.” Philippe glared at Ralph. “Amaury told me that you were here. You are mistaken that your presence might make me trust Alard. Perhaps living so long in Stephen’s court has turned you, too. Your loyalty to the empress could be questioned.”
“You are a stubborn old man, Philippe. You need to listen to me.” Ralph gestured to Alard and Gareth. “To us.”
“It is you who will not listen, despite what is right in front of you. I have proof that Alard conspires with William of Ypres,” Philippe said.
Along with Gareth, Ralph had pulled out his sword but now he sheathed it. “We come in peace.” Then he took a knife from each boot, along with two throwing knives that he’d secreted at his wrists, and dropped them on the ground. With his arsenal forsaken, Ralph held out both hands palm up to Philippe and walked forward to stand in front of Gareth, who still stood in front of Alard.
“Have your men put up their swords. You have us at your mercy if you want to throw us in chains,” Ralph said.
Philippe said nothing for a count of five, and then he nodded at his men. “Leave us. Stay within hailing distance.”
His men muttered among themselves but did as he asked, backing several dozen paces away from where Philippe, Ralph, Gareth, and Alard stood together. Gareth straightened but didn’t sheath his sword. Alard stepped out from behind him.
“Sir.” Alard put his heels together and bowed slightly at the waist. It was more of a salute, one soldier to another, than a true obeisance. “I am not a traitor. Not to you, not to Empress Maud.”
“You killed David,” Philippe said.
“He came after me with a knife after you sent him to kill me,” Alard said. “I had no choice.”
“I did not send him,” Philippe said, “neither him nor John. I didn’t even know you had returned from Scotland.”
“I didn’t report in to you because Ralph had already contacted me with the news of the existence of the emeralds, and that you believed me to be a traitor,” Alard said. “I determined that it was in everyone’s best interests, not the least my own, that I remained free.”
“We both cannot be telling the truth.” Philippe looked hard at Alard. “I know I am; therefore you are not.”
“Why are you so resistant to sense?” Alard said.
Philippe tsked through his teeth. “I’d shared the evidence against you with David. When he saw you, he must have decided to take matters into his own hands.”
“What were your orders regarding Alard, then?” Gareth said. “If everyone knew that he’d betrayed the empress, wasn’t that as good as a death sentence among you?”
“I wanted him captured, not killed, until I could speak to the empress myself,” Philippe said. “I didn’t want Alard dead because then I would have had difficulty convincing her that he had betrayed her. With him alive, she could question him herself.”
“What about John?” Ralph said. “Philippe, both David and John encountered Alard within an hour of his arrival at Newcastle and tried to kill him. They were taking orders from someone.”
Philippe shrugged. “You are wrong. They were acting on their own volition. Alard was a brother to them, and he betrayed them. I cannot condone what they did, but neither can I blame them.”
“What about the emeralds?” Ralph said. “One was found in David’s pos
session.”
Philippe sneered. “Found by him!” He threw out a hand to point at Gareth. “A fact that Sir Gareth kept hidden from me. More likely, the Welsh have been conspiring with Alard all along to lay the blame at David’s feet so that the emerald could go to King Owain.”
Gareth almost laughed, marveling at how easy it was for Philippe to construct a case against him out of nothing. “The gem had been sewn into the seam of David’s cloak.”
But Philippe wasn’t listening. “Enough of this talk!” He pointed at Alard. “Seize him!”
Gareth raised his sword, prepared to defend Alard, but Ralph made a sharp gesture with one hand. “Stop!”
And to Gareth’s surprise, Philippe’s men did. Maybe it was because they had listened to the conversation and weren’t as sure of Alard’s guilt as Philippe, or maybe it was because Ralph had once been their master, before Philippe. Regardless of the reason, when Philippe staggered, his hand clutching at his chest, it was Alard and Ralph who caught his arms and maneuvered him to a bench set against the wall of the garden hut.
Gareth went down on one knee before the old spymaster. “Four emeralds came to Newcastle. David had one. Do you really think Alard would have come here, even to clear his name, if he had the other three in his possession?”
“He hopes to ingratiate himself again, to get close to Prince Henry so he can murder him,” Philippe said, his voice a wheeze.
“Who stole David’s body from the chapel?” Gareth said. “Did you order it?”
Philippe’s brow furrowed. “Of course not.”
“Are you suggesting that Alard returned to the castle, subdued Gwen and Prior Rhys, and murdered his friend, Rosalind, all without anyone recognizing him?” Gareth said.
Philippe’s jaw clenched, and he didn’t answer.
“If you accept that he could not have done those things, then you have to acknowledge that someone else is the traitor,” Gareth said. “I believe you are an honorable enough man to admit when you are wrong.” When Philippe didn’t answer, Gareth sat beside him. “I need you to answer a few more questions for me, and then I will not trouble you again.”
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