The Bard's Daughter (A Gareth and Gwen Medieval Mystery) (6 page)

“
Why would he?” Gwen said.

“
Because Collen whipped him too.” Wyn began forking hay into a pile.

Gwen watched him work for another few heartbeats. Gareth had commented once that you never really knew some people until they were dead. It looked like that might be true for Collen.

Chapter Five

“
W
hat’s going to happen to us?” Gwalchmai said.

With the waning of the day, Gwen had gone in search of Gwalchmai. She found him sitting where she’d last seen him earlier that morning: in a miserable heap on a stool in a corner of the kitchen. Not even his usual cheerful personality could overcome their father’s imprisonment.

“
Nothing bad. We are going to survive this,” Gwen said, “no matter what happens to Father.”

“
How do you know?” Gwalchmai said.

“
Because I’m going to see to it,” Gwen said.

“
How am I supposed to sing tonight with Father locked away like this?” The question came out a wail.

Gwen stared at him. “Who said you were supposed to sing tonight?” She checked the open kitchen door. The sun had been gone for some time now. The kitchen was full of men and women, running in and out of the door with serving platters for the diners in the hall.

“
Lord Cadfael.”

“
And you agreed?”

Gwalchmai’s eyebrows came together. “Of course, I did. I sing every night. But tonight, because so many guests came early for the celebration, Lord Cadfael asked me to honor them. He requested Taliesin’s
Battle of the Trees
especially.”

Gwen clasped her hands and put them to her lips, studying her brother over them. At times like this one, he seemed very far from a little boy. That song was one of the more challenging in his repertoire. It was not only very long, but had an intricate melody. Gwalchmai knew it by heart, however.

“
I guess you should sing, then, since he asked. We have to earn our keep. Perhaps it will encourage Cadfael to look upon our family in a friendlier way.”

“
Surely he doesn’t blame us for what Father has done.” Gwalchmai straightened on his stool, gathering himself together, the worry of a moment ago forgotten. “Besides, if you’re right that Father is innocent, all the more reason for us to continue as if nothing is wrong.”

“
What do you need from me?” Gwen said. “Have you eaten?”

Gwalchmai nodded, far more composed at the thought of performing before a hundred people than many—if not most—adults might be. “I’m ready.”

Gwen walked with Gwalchmai into the hall through a rear door. No one looked up at their entrance. The diners were engrossed in their meal. Gwen hadn’t felt like eating, but now her stomach growled at her. The hall wasn’t quite as full as it would be tomorrow for Cadoc’s birthday, but the tables had few empty seats. Tomorrow the people would line the walls and spill into the courtyard too.

With a nod, Gwen urged Gwalchmai ahead of her. He made his way to the dais, pausing in front of it long enough to speak briefly with Lord Cadfael, who held up a hand to him and nodded. The respect Cadfael showed Gwalchmai warmed Gwen’s heart. Her brother
was
special. They all knew it. And yet, somehow, Gwalchmai was still the same sweet little brother he’d always been.

The thought of how he might be hurt by the events of today had Gwen’s fists clenching. No matter what happened, she would do her best to protect him as she always had.

Gwen had expressed confidence to Gwalchmai that their father would survive this accusation—what else could she do in the face of Gwalchmai’s fear?—but inside, she was worried. None of the men—Lord Cadfael, Robert, or Gruffydd—seemed at all concerned that they might have locked up the wrong man. How could Cadfael hang her father so easily?

But then again, Meilyr had never been one for making friends. Far too often, he allowed his feelings to rise to the surface for all to see, even when he wasn’t drinking too much. His foul moods could affect everyone with whom he came into contact, and they possessed him more often than not, as if he walked under a dark cloud nobody else could see. He courted lords as part of his livelihood, but not very many
liked
him.

Gwen gritted her teeth, feeling rueful. And what could she say to that? She didn’t like her father either.

Yet, if nothing else, she had to find the strength to do her duty as a daughter and discover the truth, for his sake and hers. Saran was right to tell her that she had to help him if she could, especially when he couldn’t help himself. If in the process she discovered something that would cast further suspicion on her father, well … she would cross that bridge when she came to it.

As Gwalchmai strummed the first notes on his lyre, Gwen settled herself onto a bench near him. Her brother would play for a while as background to the meal, and then at Cadfael’s signal, he would begin to sing.

Sometimes Gwen accompanied him, but she was grateful that tonight, at least, very little would be expected of her. It was tomorrow’s celebration that mattered. She eyed Cadfael, wondering if he would allow Meilyr out of his cell to sing with them, as a one last request. She felt certain that her father would want it.

As the meal progressed, Gwen watched the diners with one eye and Gwalchmai with the other. He played with a focus that Gwen could never replicate, no matter how much she practiced. She had a nice voice and a sense of rhythm, but Gwalchmai
felt
the music. It was part of what was going to make him great.

Gwen rose from her bench to get a (very) watered-down cup of mead for Gwalchmai to drink before he sang
The Battle of the Trees
, for there was no stopping once he started. But as she was crossing the hall to return to her bench, Gruffydd stood up suddenly right in front of her and she nearly spilled the cup.

“
Watch it.” He caught her wrist, and then visibly softened. “Sorry, Gwen. How are you doing?”

Kindness from this quarter had Gwen blinking back unexpected tears. “I am well, my lord. Worried about my father, though.”

Gruffydd put a hand on Gwen’s shoulder. “You do know that you and your brother will be taken care of, don’t you, no matter what happens to Meilyr?”

“
Wh-what do you mean?”

Gruffydd was looking at her very sincerely. “Lord Cadfael does not blame you for your father’s mistake. He will find you a good husband, and Gwalchmai will have a permanent place at Carreg Cennen.”

Gwen swallowed hard. “Th-thank you.”

“
May I assist you in any way, now?”

Gruffydd’s eyes held something that Gwen knew how to interpret, even if she couldn’t quite believe it. She was a bard’s daughter, with a dowry far smaller than a man of Gruffydd’s station would require, and few possessions beyond her clothes. Even so, his manner was one of a suitor. Gwen hadn’t ever felt an interest in him before, but she arranged her features so as not to appear immediately averse to Gruffydd’s attentions. At the very least, she needed him on her side.

“
Actually, you can,” she said. “Did you know that Collen leaves behind a widow and a partner?”

Gruffydd rubbed his chin. “I know of both. It was Denis who came to me this morning and reported that Collen was missing.”

“
And the wife?” Gwen said.

“
They were estranged, I understand. Lord Cadfael himself told her that Collen was dead.”

“
Did Lord Cadfael promise to shelter her too?”

Gruffydd smirked. “It seems that Denis and she have come to an agreement already. She told Lord Cadfael that he need not trouble himself with her affairs.”

“
That was quick,” Gwen said.

“
You can see them there.” Gruffydd tipped his head towards two people huddled together at the end of one of the long tables.

Gwen cast a glance towards the couple. Denis was tall and slim, with pale, unlined skin and carefully brushed hair. His blonde head contrasted well with Eva’s dark locks. The pair weren’t quite holding hands, but their fingers were inches apart in the middle of the table. Eva’s hands were soft and white while Denis’ were encased in fine leather gloves.

“
Collen’s body isn’t even buried!” Gwen said.

“
It might not be buried for some time, given the cold.” Gruffydd was still looking at Gwen with gentle eyes. “As a murderer, there also may be some question as to the location and timing of your father’s burial.”

Gwen shivered. “Don’t say that! Please don’t say that! I still have one more day to discover who killed Collen. It wasn’t my father. You have to believe me!”

“
Gwen—” Gruffydd had been holding Gwen’s wrist all this time. He held it another moment and she let him, before she nodded to him and eased away. He let her go and she headed back to her bench.

“
What was that about?” Gwalchmai said as Gwen handed him the cup.

“
Everyone assumes that Father murdered Collen,” Gwen said.

“
I don’t mean that,” Gwalchmai said. “I meant with Sir Gruffydd.”

Gwen stopped with her own cup halfway to her lips. “Nothing, Gwalchmai. It was nothing.”

“
It didn’t look like nothing,” Gwalchmai said.

“
Just—” Gwen took a deep breath and let it out. Gwalchmai was at times far too perceptive and interested in the activities of his elders. “Just leave it.”

Gwalchmai drank his mead and then set down his cup. “They don’t even care about Father, do they?”

“
No,” Gwen said. “Nor that it makes no sense for him to have murdered Collen. Why would he have done such a thing? It gains him nothing but a death sentence.”

“
Who does gain by his death, Gwen?” Gwalchmai said.

Gwen’s eyes narrowed as she surveyed the hall. “Two people, at least: Collen’s widow, Eva, and his partner, Denis.” She looked at her brother. “It turns out that they have already joined forces.”

“
You should talk to them.” Gwalchmai elbowed her in the ribs. “I’ll play one more song before
The Battle of the Trees
, something sweet to soften them up.”

Gwen had to smile at that. She had very carefully left Gwalchmai out of her efforts to find the truth, but singing was harmless. Gwen rose as Gwalchmai started a ballad, and made her way along the wall to the rear of the hall, towards Eva and Denis.

As she approached, Denis looked up and Eva turned. Gwen gave an involuntary gasp. There was no other way to say it: Eva was beautiful. Her black hair, which from across the hall had looked nothing out of the ordinary, was luxurious and thick, wound around her head and held by a coif, with tendrils hanging by each ear. She had the bluest eyes Gwen had ever seen, and a pale, almost translucent skin.

As Gwen hesitated in front of her, Eva smiled. “Did you want to speak to us?”

Gwen found her throat working. She should introduce herself, but how?
Hello, my name is Gwen and my father is accused of murdering your husband?

“
I—I’m Gwen,” she said.

Eva smiled. “I know.” She put out a hand to Gwen. “I don’t blame you for what your father has done.”

Gwen knew all the color had drained from her face. “Th—thank you, but I don’t believe my father would have killed Collen. He was his friend.”

Eva canted her head and her eyes flicked to Denis, who stood. “I don’t think this is a good time to talk.” He took Gwen’s arm and before she knew it, he had glided her away from Eva and towards the front door of the hall. She allowed him to urge her through the doorway and down the steps to the courtyard.

Then he pulled her off the steps and to one side before turning on her. “What do you think you’re doing? Can’t you see that Eva is grieving?”

“
I am sorry I bothered her,” Gwen said, trying not to let him intimidate her. In truth, she did feel bad that Eva had lost her husband, even if they were estranged. “But my father didn’t kill Collen.”

“
Of course, he did,” Denis said. “They had a falling out yesterday. I heard all about it.”