Gareth loosened his hold on Gwen, but didn’t release her. “We were trying to figure out how Enid died,” Gareth said. “She has some strange markings on her palm and it’s not clear how she came by them.”
“Show me the markings,” Hywel said.
Gareth stepped from behind Gwen, crouched with Hywel over the body, and lifted the sheet to show him Enid’s left hand. As Gareth had done, Hywel traced the markings with one finger. “From a ring, do you think?”
“That was our thought,” Gareth said. “One with a design in relief, though what the image portrays is difficult to determine.”
Hywel tipped his head in the same way Gareth had, looking at the ring from multiple angles. “An animal, I’d say.”
“I suggested a lion,” Gareth said.
“Maybe … a dragon?” Hywel said.
Gwen paled. She put her hand to her mouth, trying to keep down the bile that rose in her throat and threatened to undo her.
Gareth glanced toward her. “What is it, Gwen?”
“When I went to Dublin with Cadwaladr, he had a ring with a raised dragon emblem,” she said. “I remember it specifically because I would focus on it as a way not to look into his face.”
Hywel rubbed at his chin with one hand. “My father is not going to want to hear that.”
“Was he wearing it last night?” Gareth said. “I didn’t notice.”
“Nor I,” Gwen said.
“To complicate matters further,” Hywel said, “I have more bad news.”
“Worse than a new treachery from Cadwaladr?” Gareth said.
“Cristina’s father is unwell,” Hywel said.
Gwen dropped her hand. “What do you mean—unwell?”
“When Cristina went to his room this morning, though he was breathing, she couldn’t wake him,” Hywel said. “Lord Tomos is sitting with him now, but he has yet to speak.”
Metal-toed boots clattered in the hallway and the three companions looked towards the doorway, expectant. A moment later, Taran’s face appeared. “You’d better come. Our assassin is missing. I’ve sent out a company of riders after him but we have no idea how long he’s been gone or in what direction he went …”
“Christ on a cross!” Hywel said. “What next?”
As they trotted after Taran, he explained, “When Evan went to the stables to relieve the watch, he found the door to the cell locked but the boy gone.”
They reached the bottom step and passed through the doorway into the great hall. Hywel put a hand on Taran’s arm. “Wait a moment. Did you say that the door was still locked from the outside?” In his incredulity, Hywel’s voice carried throughout the hall.
Gareth lowered his voice. “We’d do better to take this outside, my lord.”
Gwen looked around. The hall was full of diners eating breakfast. Every single one was looking at the four of them. The news of Enid’s death had spread throughout the castle. How could it not? They weren’t going to be able to surprise the murderer with the news, but at the same time, it meant that Gwen and Gareth could pursue their inquiries openly.
“At once,” Hywel said. “This way.”
Instead of leading them through the great hall, he reentered the corridor that paralleled it, took them past the stairway and his own rooms, and out the side door into the courtyard. He paused only when he reached the stables. Alun and Evan, both good friends of Gareth, shifted uneasily before the open door to the assassin’s cell.
The cell was empty. Hywel pulled up short. “Tell me what happened.”
“We don’t know, my lord,” Evan said. “I arrived at my shift this morning, checked on the boy, and found him gone.”
“And the guards who were here before you?” Hywel said. “What do they have to say for themselves?”
“They were at their posts when I arrived, but asleep,” Evan said.
“I’ve already questioned them,” Taran said. “When they came on duty, the prisoner was in the cell. They know nothing about what passed in the night, up until the moment they found me snapping my fingers in their faces.”
“And the guard at the postern gate?” Gareth said.
Taran sighed. “Also asleep, with no memory of the night’s events.”
Gwen put a hand on Hywel’s arm. “Poppy juice would do it, my lord. It isn’t easy to come by, but the contents of that vial, small as it was, would have been enough to dose the guards—and perhaps Lord Goronwy too.”
“Does the herbalist keep any here in the castle?” Hywel said. “I should have asked him as soon as we found that vial in Enid’s pocket.”
“It wouldn’t have made a difference, my lord. He used to keep it in the cupboard, but he has been unable to acquire any more since Cadwaladr took what was left to use on me,” Gwen said. “It’s too bad, because it relieves a patient’s suffering when the pain becomes too much to bear.”
“God damn it. Cadwaladr again.” Hywel ran a hand through his hair. “I kept the key to the cell with me. I loaned it to Gareth last night, but he returned it.”
“The guards were awake when I left,” Gareth said.
Gwen bit her lip. She didn’t like even a hint of wrongdoing within Gareth’s vicinity but Hywel took little notice and waved a hand, dismissing her anxiety. “Of course they were. I know I didn’t open the door, but without it, how could the assassin have gotten out?”
Gareth walked into the cell and stood, hands on his hips, surveying the room. “I don’t know that we can blame the guards if they were dosed, my lord.” He glanced at Hywel and Gwen. “Besides, the assassin didn’t need the key in order to escape. He had help from a different direction.”
“What do you mean?” Gwen said.
Gareth stalked to the side wall. With a tug, he removed a plank and then three more, revealing a hole three feet wide and five tall. “Believe me, if these boards had been loose when your father put me in here, I would have noticed—and might have departed just as easily.” Gareth tossed the planks to the ground, disgusted.
“You didn’t have to escape because you had me looking out for you. It makes me wonder who was looking out for our assassin?” Hywel entered the room and bent to look through the opening into the courtyard beyond. “This will limit the room’s usefulness as a prison cell in future.”
Gwen smiled. Her lord had a way with understatement. She turned back to Taran. “Nobody has been able to get anything out of Lord Goronwy?”
“Not even Tomos,” Taran said. “As I am still under a cloud of suspicion, I didn’t feel it was my place to try. And now that the assassin is gone …”
“He was your accuser.” Hywel pursed his lips. “This doesn’t look good for you.”
Taran swallowed hard. “I know, my lord.”
“Cadwaladr volunteered to inform my father of Enid’s death,” Hywel said. “Have you seen him this morning?”
Taran hesitated. “No, my lord. This news will make him even more angry. He was supposed to be married in …” Taran glanced towards the entrance to the stables where a square of sunlight shone on the floor inside the entrance, “… just a few hours.”
“I need you to return to him and tell him what has happened,” Hywel said.
Taran bowed his head. “Yes, my lord.” And then he added, “It is wise of you to realize that this news would be better coming from an old friend.”
“Thank you,” Hywel said.
Taran left the stables. His drawn look and aged bearing were becoming permanent.
“That was cruel to send him to your father,” Gwen said. “Taran must realize that he and Cadwaladr are running neck and neck in our suspicions.”
Hywel’s lips twitched. “Taran could have let the boy go. Who else had more to gain from his disappearance?”
“Other than the real killer?” Gwen said.
“What if the boy murdered Enid?” Hywel said.
“I know that the boy tried to murder your father, my lord,” Gwen said, “but really, he seemed quite harmless once you subdued him. W
hy would he fail to kill your father and then take the time to murder Enid inside the castle, when freedom was only a few yards away?”
“Perhaps she helped him to escape from the cell and then he wanted to cover his tracks,” Hywel said.
“So he killed her? And then stashed her body in the linen closet?” Gareth said.
“When you put it like that, it does seem unlikely,” Hywel said.
“At the very least, he would have dumped her body right here,” Gareth said. “How Lord Goronwy comes into it, I can’t imagine.”
“What if Goronwy paid the assassin to attack the king?” Gwen said.
“Why would he do that on the eve of his daughter’s wedding to that very same king?” Hywel said.
Gareth smirked. “After the wedding would be something else entirely.”
“We need to trace Enid’s movements last night,” Hywel said.
“Did you see Enid last night, my lord?” Gwen said.
Hywel rubbed his hand along his chin. “I already told you no, I didn’t. If you must know, I was with someone else last night. For the whole night.”
“She will account for you?” Gareth said.
Gwen’s attention flashed to Gareth. He’d spoken so reasonably of Hywel back in the linen closet, but out of nowhere, his tone had turned just this side of hostile.
Hywel’s eyes flicked to Gareth and then back to Gwen. “Gareth knows?”
“Yes,” Gwen said.
Hywel cleared his throat. “Gwen, you get to work. We have a castle full of people to question. Time you got started.” Hywel jerked his head in the direction of the ad hoc opening. “Gareth and I have other business to discuss.”
Chapter Eight
Hywel didn’t say anything more until he and Gareth reached an isolated corner of the kitchen garden. Then he stopped and turned to face Gareth. “So … you know about Anarawd?”
“Yes.” Gareth looked directly back at his prince. Earlier, when they’d been in the cell, Hywel’s mention of his alibi for Enid’s murder had brought an unexpected rage upon Gareth. It had risen so quickly, he’d choked on it. He’d told Gwen to swallow her anger and mistrust of Hywel if they were to continue working for him, but he found in that moment that he couldn’t do it.
“And? I can tell by your tone that you are angry,” Hywel said. “I cannot blame you for that.”
Sweet Mary. As quickly as it had come over him, Gareth’s temper faded. He ran a hand through his hair and looked down at his boots, trying to think of what to say. Then he straightened his shoulders, resolving to air his grievances and settle this one way or another. “Why didn’t you tell me yourself? How could you feel that you owed Gwen an explanation, but not one to me?”
“Ach. You have it wrong.” Now it was Hywel’s turn to look away, not as sure of himself as he’d first seemed. “I’d given Gwen the knife, so she knew what I’d done without me telling her directly. And then … weeks passed before I saw you. With the fighting and the rebuilding of the castle at Aberystwyth, it was an easy conversation to put off. I couldn’t settle upon the right way to tell you, and as the months wore on—”
“It never got any easier.” Gareth finished the sentence for him. “Gwen and I are to be wed. Did you think she would say nothing to me?”
“Of course not.” Hywel paused. “I am sorry.”
“Sorry you didn’t keep it to yourself?”
Hywel coughed a laugh. “I will not apologize for …” Hywel glanced around and lowered his voice. Even in an isolated corner of the garden, he feared to implicate himself if someone other than Gareth should overhear him, “… what I did to Anarawd. To say I regretted it would be another lie. I am sorry I misled you.”
Gareth placed his hands on his hips and gazed into the distance. The summer vines were brown, brittle now and barely clinging to the garden wall. Most of the work of preparing the soil for next summer had been done, with all but a few winter herbs harvested.
“It makes it difficult to trust you, my lord,” Gareth said. “Just now, in regards to the mark on Enid’s palm, Gwen and I discussed keeping the information from you. Perhaps we needed a clue that you didn’t know about to ensure that we remained one step ahead of you, if you killed her.”
“So why did you show it to me?”
“We have to trust you,” Gareth said. “And pray that you don’t abuse our trust again.”
Hywel put a hand to Gareth’s shoulder. “In the matter of Anarawd’s death, the whole truth did not come out, but justice was done nonetheless. What I did has no bearing on Cadwaladr’s guilt.”
When Gareth didn’t respond, he added, “Do you accept that?”
Gareth filled his lungs and then let the air out. “As far as Cadwaladr is concerned. Yes. I accept it.” He went over Hywel’s explanation in his mind, relieved that Hywel hadn’t asked for his forgiveness, because he didn’t know if he could have given it. Or if it was his to give. Gareth had known from the first that Hywel had a devious and intelligent mind, and one that didn’t suffer fools gladly. But in performing this deed, and covering it up, Hywel skated very close to Cadwaladr’s rationalizations of his own deceits. Such behavior worried Gareth. And probably would continue to do so.
“I owe you,” Hywel said. “You and Gwen.”
Gareth chewed on the inside of his lip. It wasn’t a bad thing to have his lord in his debt, but this wasn’t one that necessarily could be repaid. “You are my liege lord,” Gareth said. “I will not betray you.”
Hywel eased out a breath. So—he’d been worried. Am I doing the right thing, letting Hywel slip away free? Yet Gareth couldn’t imagine marching up to King Owain and informing him of what his son had done. Truly, that would be impossible.
Hywel rubbed his hands to warm them. “Today, we have a new problem.”
“We do,” Gareth said. “Tell me now if you had anything to do with Enid’s death or the attack on your father—anything at all.”
Hywel’s gaze was steady on Gareth’s face. “I had nothing to do with this assassin and I haven’t spoken to Enid for two years. She meant nothing to m—”
“Hywel ap Owain!” A woman in her forties with a breast like the prow of a Viking ship burst through the archway from the courtyard, sailed across the kitchen garden, and beached herself in front of Hywel.
“Lady Jane—”
“Don’t Lady Jane me!” Her accent indicated a Norman upbringing but her Welsh was perfect. “It is your fault that my daughter is dead!” Jane choked on the last word. She put her handkerchief to her mouth and sobbed in great heaving breaths.
Hywel glanced at Gareth, a little wide-eyed, but Gareth stepped back, palms out. He had no idea what was going on. “Lady Jane, how can you say that?” Hywel mustered some sympathy and patted Jane on the shoulder.
Jane’s head came up, back to angry. “You sniveling bastard! I watched your sneaking ways when you were in diapers and you haven’t changed. Just the other day, Enid let me know that it was because of you that she changed her mind about coming to the wedding. It was only at the last moment that she joined our party.”
Hywel’s mouth dropped open. “None of what you say is true.” Which wasn’t entirely accurate, since Hywel was a bastard. “I had nothing to do with Enid coming to Aber. Nothing at all.”
Jane shook her finger in Hywel’s face. “Don’t be impertinent!”
“Aunt Jane,” Hywel said, all reasonable, now that his initial surprise had passed, “Enid’s death was not my fault.”
Gareth decided that resolving his disagreement with Hywel meant that Hywel was still his liege lord and it was his duty to step in and save Hywel if he could. “Why wasn’t Enid coming to the wedding in the first place? She was Cristina’s cousin and companion.”
“Was!” Jane sobbed through her handkerchief. “My little girl …”
Hywel and Gareth glanced at each other, both wishing they could be anywhere else but where they were. Gareth was a hair’s-breadth from turning tail and running.
&n
bsp; Jane got herself more under control and transferred her gaze to Gareth. She seemed to like what she saw well enough to answer him. “Enid was not a good horsewoman and the journey from Flintshire is a long one.” Jane sighed. “But as she introduced King Owain and Cristina to each other, it seemed only fitting that she should be a witness to their wedding.”
“Wait … wait …” Hywel said. “Enid introduced Cristina to my father?”
“Why yes.” Jane turned back to the prince. “We had hopes that Owain might choose Enid for his bride after Gladwys died, but it was not to be.”
This was startling news. It was a known fact that you couldn’t keep a secret at Aber, but that was clearly wrong in this instance. “Did Enid …” Gareth paused in mid-sentence, trying to find a diplomatic way to ask the question, “… resent King Owain’s relationship with Cristina?”
Jane waved her handkerchief. “Of course not. Their parting was amicable and Enid was looking to marry a landowner who lived near Shrewsbury. Much better for her, we all agreed.”
Hywel clasped both hands to his lips and looked at Jane over the top of them. “So, how is Enid’s death my fault?”
Jane slapped Hywel’s upper arm. It might have been playful if the force of the blow hadn’t rocked him backwards. “She said you had asked her to come to Aber, especially. That it wouldn’t be right if she didn’t, and that King Owain would be giving her a gift to express his gratitude for introducing him to Cristina. I thought nothing of your plea since I shared your opinion.”
“It seems incredible that she would say such a thing since I haven’t spoken to her in over two years,” Hywel said.
Jane opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. “Th-th-that can’t be true.”
“It is true.” Hywel gestured to Gareth. “We have been discussing the many ways that lies can disrupt an investigation, but I assure you, I am not lying. And I know of no gift my father intended to give to Enid.”
Hywel gazed directly into Jane’s eyes as he spoke. He could lie very well when he wanted to, but his face showed no deception and Gareth believed him. Besides, what could be Hywel’s motive for killing Enid? Gareth already knew the worst of him (hopefully), and Enid couldn’t possibly have heard of it. Not if Hywel hadn’t told her.
The Uninvited Guest Page 7
