The Fourth Horseman (14 page)

“
The one thing?” Gwen gave
a laugh. “None of this makes sense.”

Gareth pulled on his upper lip. “Could it be
that the gem was meant as payment from King Stephen to Alard for
his service?”

“
The only way the gem could
be payment to Alard,” Gwen said, “is if David was bringing it to
him, which makes David a traitor too.”

“
That’s not what Philippe
said.”

“
Philippe may be lying
about many things,” Gwen said. “Perhaps Alard is a traitor. I don’t
care either way who wins the English crown. It means nothing to me,
but I won’t condemn a man without evidence. Truthfully, we don’t
even have evidence that Alard murdered David.”

Gareth’s brows came together. “Alard tossed
him over the battlement.”

“
That doesn’t mean he was
the one who throttled him,” Gwen said. “Or stabbed him, for that
matter.”

Gareth shook his head. “I don’t know what to
believe. Maybe it’s better to believe nothing for now, until we can
gather more information. All I have so far is three bodies, a spy
ring, and a castle full of suspects.”

“
We will figure it out,”
Gwen said.

Gareth pulled Gwen to him for a quick hug.
“We will. Now—off with you!”

Gareth headed back to the pantry, and Gwen
threaded her way across the kitchen to where the two boys sat at a
small table, stuffing their faces with fresh bread spread with
butter and honey. One of them swiped at his mouth, leaving a smear
of butter across his cheek.

Gwen planted herself in front of them. “I’m
Gwen, Gareth’s wife.”

The smaller boy swallowed. “I’m Dai, Miss,
and this is my brother, Llelo.”

“
Gareth said you’d like to
come with us to the princes’ camp.”

They both bobbed their heads fervently. Dai
said, “Yes, please,” while Llelo rubbed at his buttered cheek,
smearing it even more.

The boys reminded Gwen of her brother,
Gwalchmai. They had the same dark hair and eyes—although her
younger brother had rarely looked at her with as solemn an
expression as Llelo wore now. As the eldest, Llelo would have felt
responsible for his little brother and held the pair together when
their father died, like Gwen had done with Gwalchmai at the death
of their mother.

“
If I bring you with me,
you must do as you’re told,” Gwen said. “I expect none of the
mischief I hear you inflicted on those poor monks.”

“
Yes, Miss,” Dai said, his
arm across Llelo’s shoulder, stretching so he could
reach.

Without further ado, Gwen took the boys with
her into the great hall, looking for the princes, but when she saw
no sign of them, she led the way upstairs to their room. They
weren’t there either, though Llelo and Dai enjoyed examining the
privy at the end of the corridor. The vent under the seat opened
right into the river below them. Finally, Gwen found Hywel and Rhun
in the bailey, accompanied by Evan and Gruffydd. The princes were
conversing with Ranulf, so Gwen waited with the boys until Ranulf
departed. Hywel beckoned Gwen closer.

“
What have we
here?”

“
Two rapscallions,” Gwen
said, “but they are Welsh rapscallions, and Gareth has taken them
on as his responsibility for now.”

Hywel took Llelo’s chin in his hand.
“Where’s your father?”

“
Dead,” Llelo
said.

“
Where did Gareth find
them?” Hywel said, glancing over at Gwen.

“
At the friary,” Gwen said.
“Given that we have custody of them, Gareth suggested that this
would be a good time to ride to the camp. All of us
together.”

“
Where is Gareth?” Rhun
said.

“
He has another body to
examine, a woman this time,” Gwen said and gave a brief summary of
what she knew about it.

Hywel laughed. “That should keep him
entertained.” He glanced at his brother, who nodded.

“
The evening meal won’t
occur until the sun sets. If we ride now, we can return before
then,” Rhun said. “Earl Robert has promised us a place at the high
table.”

The two princes went to mount their horses,
but just as Hywel put his foot into his stirrup and was preparing
to swing himself into the saddle, a man came through the front door
to the keep. “My lords!” He hustled across the courtyard and
arrived, breathless, at Hywel’s side. “My lords! Earl Robert asks
that you attend him.”

Slowly, Hywel lowered himself back to the
ground. He glanced at his brother, who stepped closer to the
messenger.

“
Did he say why?” Rhun
said.

“
He would like to speak
with you about several matters that he did not have time to discuss
earlier,” the messenger said.

“
Can’t it wait?” Hywel
said.

The messenger bowed. “I apologize, my lords.
I have spoken only as I was bidden.”

Rhun studied the bowed head of the messenger
and then nodded. “We will come.”

“
Thank you, my lords.” The
messenger clasped his hands together in front of him and
waited.

Hywel sighed. “It seems we will not ride to
the camp today.” He put an arm around Gwen’s shoulder and walked
her to her horse. Hywel made a show of helping her mount, even as
he spoke quickly to Evan and Gruffydd, who at his grave expression
had clustered around him. “Evan, when you reach the camp, send two
riders to my father immediately. Perhaps this is nothing; perhaps
all is well. But I would have him on the alert to the fact that we
may be prisoners in Earl Robert’s court.”

“
It is a journey of several
days, my lord,” Evan said.

“
It is necessary.” Then
Hywel turned to Gruffydd. “Let Evan escort Gwen and the boys to the
camp. I need you to find Gareth and bring him to me. Tell him to
leave the body for now.”

“
Yes, my lord,” Gruffydd
said.

Hywel patted Gwen’s leg. “I will speak to
Gareth and then send him to the camp to be with you. You two are
going to have to be my eyes and ears outside of Newcastle, now more
than ever. You must find Alard. He is the key to understanding all
of this.”

Gwen didn’t ask the prince how she was
supposed to do that, just nodded.

“
Evan, when you’ve
accomplished your task, return to me here. At the very least, the
evening meal should prove interesting.” Hywel strode away across
the courtyard towards the keep with his brother at his side. With
Evan riding with her, Gruffydd on a quest to find Gareth, and Prior
Rhys incapacitated, the two princes were alone and without a guard.
Gwen didn’t like to see that, even for a short while.

“
I’ll bring more men back
with me,” Evan said as Dai clambered up behind him and Llelo found
a seat behind Gwen. “Each hour we’ve been in Newcastle has been
worse than the one before.”

“
That’s what Gareth
said.”

Gwen had thought that leaving Newcastle
would ease some of the tension in her shoulders, but as they rode
towards the Welsh camp, her anxiety only increased. She hated
leaving Gareth and the princes behind in enemy territory,
surrounded by foreign soldiers and murderers. It felt as if her
husband was more in harm’s way at Newcastle than when he fought in
battle.

“
They can take care of
themselves,” Evan said, reading her thoughts.

“
I know.” Gwen glanced at
him. She did know it, but she couldn’t suppress the nausea she felt
at leaving her husband behind. To distract herself, she reached
behind her to pat Llelo’s leg to gain his attention. “How did you
meet Gareth?”

“
We saw him enter through
the main gate,” Llelo said. “I knew he was Welsh the moment I saw
him.”

“
By his clothes, you mean?”
Gwen said.

She sensed Llelo’s shrug. “Saxons hunch
their shoulders and bob their heads as Normans pass. Gareth
didn’t.”

Gwen smiled. Welsh prejudices against Saxons
and Normans were as fixed as Saxon or Norman ones about them.
“Gareth said that you told him of a meeting between that Norman
lord, Philippe, and a stranger in the garden of the friary.”

“
I did,” Llelo
said.

“
Do you know the name of
the man he met?” Gwen said.

“
It was one of the dead
men.” Llelo snapped his fingers. “John.”

Overhearing, Evan swung his head around to
look at Llelo. “How do you know that?”

“
He was a Saxon, right?”
Dai said, joining the conversation. “When he met with Philippe, he
pushed back his hood and we saw his yellow hair and
beard.”

“
I believe you saw Philippe
meet with a Saxon, but how do you know he’s the same one who is now
dead?” Gwen said.

“
Earlier in the day, he
came to the friary, asking to see Philippe,” Dai said. “We
overheard his conversation with the gatekeeper.”

“
And then we heard about it
again while we waited for Sir Gareth to finish his meeting with
Philippe,” Llelo said. “One of the monks who likes to gossip told
the gatekeeper that John was dead and that he was the same John
who’d come by earlier.”

God bless curious
boys.
“Did you overhear what John and
Philippe discussed?” Gwen said.

“
Not everything.” Dai
glanced at Llelo, who nodded his encouragement. “Just something
about
keeping an eye
on someone John knew, his brother, I think.”

“
Did you get a name?” Gwen
said.

“
He called him Alard,” Dai
said.

Chapter
Thirteen

Gareth

I
t
was very late by the time Gareth found his bed. Gwen lay in his
arms but was having as much difficulty sleeping as he
was.

“
What are you thinking?” he
said.

Gwen turned slightly and lifted her head so
she could look at him, though her face was shadowed. He could make
out little more than her shape in the dark because the only light
in the tent came from the firelight and torches outside.

They were lucky to have their own tent. Most
of their companions slept outside on the ground, grouped around the
campfires that would burn all night. The princes had brought four
cartloads of goods into England, but only half a dozen tents. The
rest of the space in the carts had been taken up by provisions.

Hywel and Rhun’s tent was empty, as was the
one for Prior Rhys, since the young monk, Tomos, who’d accompanied
the prior on the journey, had gone to the castle to wait on
him.

“
I’ve been thinking about
what we’ve so far failed to understand,” Gwen said.

“
That would be just about
everything, wouldn’t it?” Gareth found the end of Gwen’s night
braid and tugged on it.

“
Well, yes. But it’s more
than that. It’s Mari’s involvement, honestly, that has me
flummoxed.”

“
Why?” Gareth
said.

“
You don’t find it odd that
Prior Rhys reported to Mari’s father when he worked for Empress
Maud?” Gwen said.

Gareth shrugged. “Every man, other than the
king himself, serves a man of greater rank, and from what I know of
Rhys on our short acquaintance, he was very good at his job.”

“
But Mari’s
father—”

“
All men have pasts; you
know that.” Gareth hugged Gwen close. “Rhys escaped to the
monastery when his work sickened him beyond endurance. Given what I
know of the man, I can believe that series of events.”

“
I don’t disagree,” Gwen
said.

“
So what bothers you about
his story?” Gareth said.

“
I want to know what
happened that drove him away. He never said, and when I asked, he
took the conversation in a different direction. He spoke of Alard
and the other horsemen as his brothers. You didn’t hear him, but
the decision to leave was a hard one. The monastery didn’t call
him. Something changed in his life to drive him toward
it.”

Gareth surveyed the ceiling of their tent.
“Ralph’s death.”

“
Certainly that was part of
it, though that’s not exactly what he said.” Gwen pushed off
Gareth’s chest to sit cross-legged on the pallet, a blanket around
her shoulders. He couldn’t see her face properly, but he knew what
she looked like: beautiful as always, and intent. He would have
drawn her down to kiss her, but she would have wiggled away. His
wife didn’t like to be distracted when she was thinking. “Could
Prior Rhys have killed Ralph? Is that why he fled?”

“
That would be awkward, if
true.” Gareth ran both hands through his hair. Sleep had never been
further off. “Prior Rhys was a warrior. He’d killed before. How
much would it have bothered him to kill a man if he had a good
reason?”

“
What reason could that
be?” Gwen said. “We’re talking about Mari’s
father.”

“
A man we’ve never met,”
Gareth said. “How well did Mari even know him if he served the
empress?”

“
I’m going to pin her down
about what she knows about him if it’s the last thing I do,” Gwen
said.

“
Let me talk to Prince
Hywel first,” Gareth said. “Sometimes asking direct questions isn’t
the best way.”

“
It’s what I’m good at,”
Gwen said.

Gareth couldn’t argue with that.

“
Besides, though she
wouldn’t talk about it, something about the way he died meant that
he left her with no dowry,” Gwen said.