“What did Ifan tell you?” Denis said.
Gwen hesitated, unsure if it was her place to say, but then decided that if Ifan was going to tell Gruffydd anyway, Denis would know soon enough. “He said that my father helped Collen with Lord Cadfael, and then Collen refused to acknowledge the favor.”
Denis looked away, his jaw working. “That’s not what Collen said to me.”
“I’ve heard three different stories so far about the conversation between my father and Collen,” Gwen said. “Many lies have been told of late.”
Denis jerked his eyes back to Gwen’s face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“If my father didn’t kill Collen,” Gwen said, “someone else did and arranged things so the blame would fall on him. Who could have done that? And why?”
Denis snorted. “Meilyr was found beside the body with a harp string at his feet and blood on his hands. He is the murderer. You’re wasting your time. He should pay Eva the galanas he owes her and let it go.”
“If my father is found guilty, there won’t be any galanas,” Gwen said.
Denis had been looking around the courtyard, not really listening, but Gwen’s words brought his attention back to her. “What did you say?”
“Sir Gruffydd told me that Lord Cadfael plans to hang my father,” Gwen said.
Denis moved closer, his face only a hand’s span from hers. “He wouldn’t!”
“Apparently, he would,” Gwen said. “In that event, Eva would receive no payment.”
Denis’ throat worked, but he didn’t answer. Gwen smiled inwardly. Eva was beautiful, but Gwen’s brief encounter with Denis told her that he admired money more than beauty. And if Eva didn’t receive the galanas, she might not be worth his time.
“There has to be someone else with motive,” Gwen said. “Please think! You were Collen’s partner. Who might want him dead?” Besides you, yourself, which Gwen didn’t say.
Denis breathed in deeply. “Robert. Robert might have a motive.”
Gwen took an involuntary step back. “Robert? Why him?”
Denis looked towards the door to the hall, lit by torches on either side. “Because Collen entrusted him with three gold coins to hold for him.”
“Three coins …” Gwen breathed the words. “Where did Collen get three coins?”
Denis turned back to her, his lips a thin line. “Never mind that. Needless to say, now that Collen is dead, those coins belong to Eva, or at the very least, to me. But Robert claims to know nothing about them.”
Three gold coins. A man could buy a lifetime of ease for that, or land, or whatever his heart desired. Gwen wrapped her arms around her waist, trying to offset the cold, and held on, thinking hard. Robert was in a perfect position to implicate her father, since he was a man Lord Cadfael trusted. Could it be that simple? Could Robert have killed Collen and manipulated her father so that he would take the blame?
Gwen shook her head. There was still too much she didn’t know—and she was running out of time to find the answers.
Chapter Six
“Pssst! Gwen!”
Gwen sat up abruptly at the sound of Edain’s voice and bumped her head on the low shelf below which she’d been sleeping. The floor of Saran’s hut wasn’t the most comfortable place to spend the night, but it had the advantage, as before when she’d wanted to practice her music, of being private. She’d retreated here once she realized that her pallet in the upstairs room in which all the women at Carreg Cennen slept had a clear perimeter around it. Nobody wanted to sleep next to a murderer’s daughter.
“Where are you?” Gwen peered into the darkness of the hut. With no moon or stars showing, she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face. The fire in the brazier had burned out and Gwen shivered, pulling her cloak and then her blanket around her shoulders.
“Here!” Feet thumped on the floor and then Edain struck flint to light the candle he held. Gwen shielded her eyes from the sudden light, and then lowered her hand as her eyes adjusted to it. The glow illumined his face and the little corner in which Gwen lay.
“What is the hour?”
“Very late,” Edain said.
“Why have you come?” Gwen said.
“I haven’t found my bed yet because I’ve been thinking about your father,” Edain said.
The intensity in Edain’s face had Gwen fully awake. “Really? Why?”
“I’ve been asking around about him.”
“Asking around?” Gwen’s heart beat a little faster. “That’s very nice of you but I don’t want you to get into trouble on his account. Or mine.”
Edain shrugged that off. “What are friends for?”
Not sure how worried she should be, Gwen twisted on her pallet so that her back rested against the wall. “Tell me.”
“I spoke with Wyn in the stable and he said you talked to him.”
“I did. Did he remember something else?”
“No,” Edain said, “but his girl did.”
“Wyn has a girl?” Gwen genuinely laughed for the first time since she’d seen her father beside Collen’s body.
Edain nodded. “It’s Nest, the kitchen girl. She and Wyn had … uh … found a quiet place in the corner of the stable to … uh … talk in private. Wyn was asleep when Nest heard people passing by, near the rear door, the one closest to the entrance to the pantry. One of the voices belonged to your father, although when he spoke, his words were slurred. The other she didn’t know. At least not right away.”
Gwen stared at Edain, breathless. “But she does now?”
“Nest crept to the doorway and saw the couple before they disappeared. We had a bright moon last night, if you recall. The woman was giggling and your father had his arm around her waist.” Edain paused.
Gwen stared at him. “So … who was it?”
“The moon shone full on her face. She followed your father down the ladder, but came hurrying back almost immediately. Your father didn’t follow her and Nest retreated to where Wyn slept, not wanting to pry and assuming they’d had a lover’s quarrel. Other than the rarity of seeing your father with a woman, she thought nothing particularly of it. She went to sleep.”
Gwen’s teeth ground together at Edain’s insouciant grin. He was drawing this out on purpose. “Who—was—the—woman?”
“Eva, Collen’s wife.”
Gwen sucked a breath in so hard she started coughing. Edain leaned forward and clapped her on the back. With a hand to her chest, Gwen regained control, breathing deeply. “I hadn’t expected that. She’s so beautiful, and—and sweet!”
“Not so sweet, apparently, that she didn’t meet with your father on the very night her husband was killed.”
“In the very place her husband was killed.” Gwen twirled the end of her braid around one finger. Had Eva really dosed Meilyr with a potion and left him in the pantry?
“If Collen was already dead, she would have seen him on the floor there,” Edain said. “That would be why she came back.”
“Except that she didn’t raise the alarm,” Gwen said. “And just left my father there by himself.”
“Could she have killed Collen?” Edain said. “The rock hides sounds well. The three of them could have argued …” His voice trailed off as he reconsidered his theory.
“What about the harp string?” Gwen said. “It’s not as if my father carries one on his person. And as Nest pointed out, my father was drunk.”
“Perhaps Eva brought the string to the pantry. Perhaps she intended to kill Collen all along?” Edain said. “Alternatively, if Collen was already dead when Eva and Meilyr arrived in the pantry, Eva has to be involved, else why not raise the alarm.”
“So she could blame the murder on my father?” Gwen bit her lip. It was one thing for her to pursue this line of inquiry, but Edain was a servant. He could find himself in serious danger—or lose his position—if he helped her any more. She put a hand on his arm and squeezed once. “These are interesting thoughts, Edain. Thank you so much for c
oming to me.”
Edain’s face colored. “You’re welcome. I was sure that I could help.”
“It would probably be better if you didn’t mention our conversation or what Nest saw to anyone else, not until we know more,” Gwen said. “A murderer is still loose in the castle and I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”
“If you say so, Gwen.” Edain ducked his head.
“And you might say the same to Nest. She and Wyn are the only ones I’ve found so far who saw my father last evening.”
Edain’s brow furrowed. “You’re worried for them? You think they could be in danger?”
“We don’t know why Collen was killed,” Gwen said. “My father is in a cell, which might make people feel safe, but if my father didn’t do it, than somebody else did. I’d like to know who that is before you, Nest, or Wyn expose yourselves by coming forward as witnesses on my father’s behalf.”
Edain studied Gwen for a moment without speaking. Then he nodded and rose to his feet. “We’ll be careful.” He touched Gwen’s shoulder and disappeared through the far doorway, leaving Gwen again in darkness.
In retrospect, Gwen was surprised that only Nest and Wyn had seen her father and Eva together, and only Nest saw Eva closely enough to recognize her. Carreg Cennen was crowded with people, and yet, perhaps that made it all the easier to carry out a plan to murder Collen and implicate her father. With so many strangers, the usual residents didn’t know everyone and were more likely to turn a blind eye to the activities of others.
It could be, also, that others had seen Gwen’s father, but hadn’t spoken of it because nobody had questioned them. If Gruffydd had been conducting a proper investigation, he would have interviewed all of the servants and castle residents. But he wasn’t, for reasons Gwen still didn’t understand. Gwen herself had tried, but few people were willing to talk to her about the murder.
Gwen lay back down on the pallet and gazed upwards to the shelf above her head, though she couldn’t see it in the darkness. All things considered, Saran was right. Gwen preferred being a bard’s daughter to the daughter of a murderer.
Chapter Seven
The next morning, Gwen slept later than she intended. It was already dawn by the time she awoke. She rolled up the pallet on which she’d been sleeping and hurried out of the hut. In the middle of the night, during the long hours when she wasn’t sleeping, she’d come to the decision that she should bring what Edain had discovered to Gruffydd. Perhaps her information could spark him into movement. Despite his lack of action, she trusted him more than she did Robert or Cadfael. Maybe he’d at least be willing to listen.
But before Gwen was half way down the path towards the kitchen, Saran waylaid her. “I heard that you have been trying to help your father.”
Gwen swallowed hard. “Yes.”
Saran studied her. “And? How does it feel?”
Gwen didn’t hesitate. “Terrifying. But not so much as the thought of my father being hung for murder.”
Saran nodded. “I spoke with Gruffydd about the potion yesterday, and now I have something to show you.”
“Something good?” Gwen said.
“Perhaps.” Saran directed Gwen to a corner of the kitchen garden. A shovel rested against the chin-high wall that sheltered the plants from the wind that blew around the castle most days of the year.
Saran pointed at a hole in the ground. “I noticed that the shovel was missing when I checked my tools this morning, and then saw that the earth had been disturbed here. I’m surprised you didn’t hear someone digging in the middle of the night.”
“I was certainly awake for enough of it.” Gwen touched the handle of the shovel, glad that Saran was so careful with her possessions, even if it made Gwen nervous to be anywhere near her things.
When Gwen had asked permission to use the herbalist’s hut for music practice, Saran had given her a fierce look. She’d assented, but not before threatening Gwen with bodily harm if she moved, damaged, or otherwise touched the huts’ contents in any way. Gwen’s initial laughter had died in her throat when she realized that Saran wasn’t jesting.
Gwen crouched to look at what Saran had unearthed: two lengths of linen cloth, wadded into balls and stuffed together in a shallow hole. Carefully, Gwen pinched the corner of one of the pieces and lifted it. Loose soil had adhered in places to the pus and blood, which had soaked through the cloth.
“The blood hasn’t dried,” Saran said. “I would say that whoever buried these, did so just a few hours ago.”
“Someone at the castle has an injury which they want to hide,” Gwen said, “or they would have come to you.”
“I want to say these belong to our murderer,” Saran said. “But I don’t see how he could have been injured so severely in garroting Collen. Collen didn’t even have skin under his nails where he might have scratched at the man.”
Gwen hadn’t realized that Saran had examined the body so thoroughly. “And yet—” she said.
Saran’s brow furrowed. “And yet if he had nothing to fear, why not wash them, or burn them? Why risk their discovery?”
“Where would a man do that without being seen?” Gwen said. “In the great hall? It’s always full. Someone would notice, just as someone would wonder about a man washing cloths at the well when it’s icy cold outside.”
Gwen glanced up at the herbalist, prepared to thank her for her help, when an image of Gwalchmai tuning his lyre last night came to her in a flash. She could have throttled herself for being so blind and stupid.
Saran touched Gwen’s shoulder. “You know something. I can see it in your face.”
“Lord Cadfael should see these,” Gwen said. “I won’t say more until I’ve spoken to Gruffydd.”
“Lord Cadfael, Gruffydd, and Cadoc are leading a hunting party this morning in celebration of Cadoc’s birth day.” Saran checked the sky. “They should be leaving soon.”
At that moment, the rear door to the keep, beyond the kitchen garden wall, slammed open. Gwalchmai bounded down the steps. “Gwen! You must come! Sir Gruffydd is bringing Father before Lord Cadfael right now!”
“What?” Gwen dropped the cloth she was holding back into the hole. “I thought he was going to wait until tomorrow!”
“Lord Cadfael is sentencing him today,” Gwalchmai said. “That’s what Cadoc told me.”
Gwen took off running towards door to the keep, the hem of her skirt clenched in both hands to free her legs, but then she changed course halfway to Gwalchmai and headed towards Saran’s hut. She burst into the workshop, grabbed a clay dish, and dashed back to the hole Saran had discovered. Carefully, Gwen removed both lengths of cloth and placed them in the dish. Then she ran back towards the keep, collecting an open-mouth Gwalchmai on the way.
As she pushed through the door, two of Gruffydd’s men urged Meilyr across the expanse of wooden floor towards the dais where Robert, Lord Cadfael’s steward, waited.
“Father!” Gwalchmai had both hands to the sides of his head, as if by blocking his ears, he could stop the sentencing from happening.
Gwen turned on him. “Stay with Saran. You shouldn’t watch this.”
“But Gwen—”
Gwen grabbed his arm. “Please, Gwalchmai. This isn’t for your eyes. I will stand with Father and support him.”
Gwalchmai stared at Gwen, his mouth working, but then he closed it and obeyed her, as he’d obeyed her in the pantry, turning on a heel and going back outside. Saran met him at the bottom of the stairs.
“Please, Saran—” Gwen said.
Saran nodded and put her arm around Gwalchmai’s shoulders to direct him towards the kitchen. The servants there would welcome him, and feed him, and by the time he finished eating, this would be over.
Dreading what was to come, but unable to see a path forward that didn’t go through this moment, Gwen walked to stand beside Meilyr, her knees shaking. She was glad that her long skirt hid the trembling and she clenched the clay dish she had brought. She had accumulated some kn
owledge, and had some evidence that might indicate that her father had no involvement in Collen’s murder. But mostly what she’d discovered led only to more questions, ones for which she didn’t yet have answers.
Robert had cleared the hall except for Gruffydd and a dozen men of the garrison, plus Eva and Denis, both of whom had a vested interest in Lord Cadfael’s decision. The couple stood in the corner by the door. Where all the other visitors to the castle had gone, Gwen didn’t know, although she could hear the muster of men in the courtyard, preparing to ride out on the coming hunt.
“Girl,” her father said as Gwen took her place to his right, “go away.”
“No,” Gwen said. “I need to hear what Robert and Lord Cadfael have to say. And you need someone to stand with you.”
An expression identical to the one that Gwalchmai had just given her crossed Meilyr’s face, but he swallowed down his objections without further comment and turned to face Robert. Then, Lord Cadfael entered the hall from the stairwell that came down from the upper rooms. The table that normally sat on the dais had been moved to one side. A single chair rested in a central location and Cadfael claimed it. His hands clasped behind his back, Cadoc took his place just to the right of his father’s chair as he often did.
The room settled into silence. Cadfael flicked a finger at Gruffydd, who brought Meilyr to stand ten paces from him. Then Gruffydd pressed down on Meilyr’s shoulder to force him onto his knees.
“Of what is this man accused?” Lord Cadfael’s voice rang throughout the hall. Everyone knew of what Meilyr was accused, of course, but this was a formal setting, before the lord and judge of the castle, and the traditions had to be observed.
“Of murder, my lord,” Robert said. “He was found next to the body of the man, Collen, trader and merchant. The murder weapon was found beside the body and belongs to the accused.” Robert held up the harp string.
The Bard's Daughter (A Gareth and Gwen Medieval Mystery) Page 5