Daughter of Time: A Time Travel Romance (15 page)

“
One more?”

I nodded. Mom had another
song, one she’d sung occasionally when I was a child, but then more
often after my father died. It was a slow lullaby, not a raucous
tavern song like most of the others, and I understood the words. I
sang in Welsh, translating in my head as I went along for my own
benefit. Halfway through, however, my fingers skipped a note. I’d
forgotten the ending. Though Mom had sung this as a lullaby, it
wasn’t really. It was a love song—and I was singing it to
Llywelyn:

Walk with me, under star-strewn
skies,,
Your hand warm in
mine.

Until the dawn, I’ll dream
of you,

Good night, my love. Good
night.

All the while, Llywelyn
watched me, his arms folded across his chest, a small smile playing
around his lips.

Chapter Ten

Llywelyn

“
M
y lord!”

The young soldier, Bevyn,
trotted across the hall to the high table where I sat in a moment
of idleness, watching Marged play chess with Goronwy. Marged
claimed only a passing knowledge of the game but I thought I’d let
Goronwy have a go at her before I tried, just in case. I could
stand to lose, but I’d like to see it happen to someone else
first.

The boy came to a halt in front of us. He
bowed to me, but then turned to Goronwy.

“
Yes, Bevyn,” Goronwy
said, still focused on his game. “I’m busy.”

“
Busy losing, looks like,”
he said, “if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“
I do mind, young man,”
Goronwy said, looking up, “but I forgive you if you give me an
excuse to bow out of the game. What is it?”

“
It’s the village, sir,”
Bevyn said. “Sir Hywel requests your presence there. They’ve
returned.”

“
The villagers have
returned?” I asked. “All of them?”

“
They’re back in their
homes, not happy to be lacking possessions, but taking up their
lives again,” Bevyn said.

“
Did they say what
happened?”

“
I don’t know,” Bevyn
said. “Sir Hywel sent me to you straight away.”

“
We’ll come.” I turned to
Marged. “Sorry to postpone the drubbing, Marged, but we’re off.
Kiss Anna for me when she wakes.”

Marged’s face went
suddenly blank, and then cleared. “Yes, Llywelyn,” she
said.

I nodded and stepped of
the dais, though Marged’s look had taken me aback.
What was wrong?
I put it
away. Either she’d tell me or she wouldn’t and I didn’t have time
to draw it out of her.

It was only three miles to
the village; I took ten men with me, plus Goronwy. We didn’t cross
through the Gap, but all of us gave the road ahead an extra look
before turning onto the track that headed east to the village just
before we reached the ambush site.

“
A bad business, my lord,”
Goronwy said.

“
Indeed,” I said, thinking
of Geraint’s funeral the day before. It had been cold enough
outside that we could wait to bury him until Tudur arrived. He’d
ridden in on the first clear day after the snowstorm, bringing
another twenty men with him. I’d sent him with Hywel today,
thinking that it would do him good to get his mind off his father’s
death. Now I wasn’t so sure.

We rode onto the village
green, now cleared of debris. The grass had blackened where the
fire had burned, while the snow around the edges of the village had
melted off into a frozen mud that cracked as we walked across it. I
checked the sky. Geraint would have told me a thaw was in the
offing.
Damn, I miss
him
.

Hywel was off his horse,
talking to a peasant in a ragged brown cloak. Tudur had been
watching for us. I caught his eye and he came over as I
dismounted.

“
What’s the story?” I
said.

“
They were paid, my lord,”
Tudur said.

“
Paid?” Goronwy said from
behind me.

“
The headman says a
nobleman came to them, one Rhys ap Gruffydd,” Tudur said. “Rhys had
a dozen men with him. He sat on his horse, threw the headman a sack
full of coins and told him they had two hours to get out of the
village.

Goronwy scoffed at that.
“Rhys ap Gruffydd? Who’s that? One of Gwenwynwyn’s
bastards?”

“
I find it hard to believe
a man would give up his home so easily,” I said.

“
For coin?” Tudur said.
“Many a man will do far more for less.”

“
What did he look like?” I
said. “Surely the headman can describe him.”

“
Of medium height, medium
brown hair, rich clothes.”

“
Now that’s a helpful
description,” Goronwy said.

“
I suspect they were paid
not to say more, too,” Tudur said, “but we have no means of proving
it and I can’t get anything more out of the headman.”

“
String him up by his
ankles if you have to.” I turned to Goronwy. “Where’s Humphrey,
perhaps he can help us?”

“
I’ll get him.” Goronwy
headed to where Humphrey stood next to Hywel, listening to their
conversation while surveying the burned green and the devastated
huts surrounding it, all of which were undergoing restoration.
Goronwy returned with both men a moment later.

“
What do you think of the
headman’s tale?” I said to Humphrey.

“
I cannot say,” Humphrey
said. “I told you all I know. The village was deserted; we burned
it.”

“
On Owain’s suggestion,”
Tudur said.

“
Yes.” Once again,
Humphrey’s chin firmed at Owain’s name. “There is nothing more that
I can tell you.”

I turned to Tudur. “How
devious do we think Owain is? Enough to get rid of the villagers so
Humphrey could burn their village to the ground?”

“
Maybe he just wanted them
out of the area so they couldn’t report his activities to you or
anyone else,” Hywel said. “Then when Owain heard you were coming,
he took his opportunity to set the trap.”

“
Owain isn’t that smart,”
Humphrey said. “He is too impulsive for such
forethought.”

“
I said ‘devious,’ not
‘smart,’” I said.

“
Devious can take you a
long way down the road to smart, particularly if you’re lucky as
well,” Tudur said.

“
If it matters,” Humphrey
added, “the headman’s description, such as it is, fits
Owain.”

I sighed. “It matters and
it doesn’t. I wish that he were here right now, but as it is, he’s
beyond my reach. I will task Owain’s father with his behavior just
as soon as I am able.”

“
Over here!”

The five of us spun to
face the eastern woods. Goronwy put a hand on my arm to check me as
the other three ran forward. “Wait, my lord. Not until we know what
is happening.”

He’d become more
protective of me as we’d grown older. I understood Goronwy’s
concern but chafed at it. I didn’t
feel
that much older, but ever since
I’d gained King Henry’s blessing as the Prince of Wales, Goronwy’s
caution had increased.

“
My lord,” Bevyn said,
Glewdra’s reins in his hand.

I pulled myself into the
saddle, more comfortable now that I was in a position of strength
and could see the whole area.

Humphrey returned at a
run. “There is something you should see, my lord,” he
said.

I trotted Glewdra through
the trees that formed a barrier at the eastern edge of the village
and into a small clearing, fifteen feet on a side, fifty yards in.
In the middle of the clearing, a horse cropped the grass—what he
could find of it—next to the body of a man. Hywel crouched beside
the body and looked up as I approached.

“
He’s dead, my lord,” he
said, “for some days from the looks. He’s near frozen
solid.”

“
At least he doesn’t
smell,” Bevyn said.

I glanced at him,
wondering if I should slap him down or encourage him. I had need of
men with courage and brains and even though Bevyn was only
seventeen, he was already well supplied with both. He’d made me
laugh more than once and I was growing accustomed to his dry sense
of humor.

Hywel rolled the man over
and the cause of death became obvious: a sharp slice to the throat.
“Killed from behind, by my guess,” said Hywel.

“
Mine too,” I said. It was
hard to argue with that kind of evidence.

Humphrey spoke. “He was
one of our men. I didn’t see him after the ambush, but he was with
us before it.”

“
Was he the messenger
Owain sent to you?”

“
No,” Humphrey
said.

I returned my gaze to the
dead man, digesting the evidence. Meanwhile, Tudur went through the
horse’s saddle bags. He froze, glanced at me, and then looked down
again to an object in his hand. Taking this as a cue that I should
pay attention, I urged Glewdra nearer. “What is it?”

Tudur shifted his
shoulders to block the view of the other men, who’d begun to
disperse to look for any more clues as to what had happened here.
He opened his hand to show me its contents.

My heart grew cold at the
sight of the signet ring he held. “That was my father’s,” I
said.

“
I remember it, my lord,”
Tudur said.

I held out my hand. Tudur
dropped it into my palm and I clenched my fist around it. I looked
up to see Goronwy watching me. I canted my head and he nodded,
understanding that I would share the find with him later. I didn’t
want to think what the discovery of my father’s signet meant, but
for my own safety—and that of my country—I had no choice but to
find out.

“
Keep an eye out for
anything else that’s out of place, Tudur,” I said. “I need to know
who I’m dealing with.”

“
Yes, my lord.”

My men wrapped the body in
a blanket and threw it over the horse’s back and we returned to the
manor, more silent than when we’d left.

Marged greeted me as I
entered the hall, her upturned face searching mine. “You have
news?”

I hesitated, remembering
the blank look that she’d given me earlier, as if she’d been
disturbed that she had to remain behind. “You may listen provided
you keep to a corner and hold yourself quiet until we’re
finished.”

“
Thank you.” She trailed
after me up the stairs and into my study. She settled herself on a
cushion under the window, and if the others were surprised to see
her there when they entered, they didn’t show it.

With Hywel, Tudur, and
Goronwy arrayed before me in front of my desk, I cleared a space
and dropped the ring onto the center of the desk. Goronwy put out a
hand and fingered it.

“
It’s your father’s,
Llywelyn,” Goronwy said.

“
I know,” I
said.

“
I found it among the dead
man’s bags,” Tudur said. “But with no letter, no other indication
of who gave it to him or why.”

“
Who inherited it when
your father died, my lord?” Hywel asked.

“
My older brother, Owain,”
I said. “I don’t recall it being among his possessions when I put
him in Dolbadarn Castle, but . . .”

“
We should find out if he
had it,” Goronwy said, meeting my eyes, “and if not him, if he gave
it to one of his sons, his wife . . .” his voice trailed
off.

“
Or his brother,” Hywel
said.

“
See to it,” I said, a
growl forming in my throat, threatening to close it off
entirely.

“
I’ll go,” Tudur said
abruptly. “It’s not far to Dolbadarn. He might not tell me who has
it, but then again, he might if I offered to give it back to
him.”

I clenched my fists at my
sides and then relaxed them. “I would prefer to keep
it.”

“
With your permission, my
lord,” Tudur said, bowing, “I will offer the ring only as a last
resort.”

“
I’m sorry, Llywelyn.”
Marged’s voice piped up from the corner. “Could someone please
explain what’s happening?”

I turned to her, finding
myself angry—not so much at her, though she would be an easy target
given her impertinence—but at the situation. Goronwy forestalled
me, however, by waving one hand airily and dropping into a
chair.

“
It’s like this, Meg.
Pretend the ring is a child’s ball, bouncing from one person to the
next across Wales instead of the floor. Where does it come to rest?
Why do we find it here, outside the village that Humphrey
destroyed—at the urging of men who do not ally with us? What was
the message he carried, for why carry a signet if not to prove to
another who his master was?”

“
So,” Marged said. “You’re
saying that one of Llywelyn’s family members has betrayed
him.”

“
Yes,” Goronwy said.
“Probably.”

“
That’s a surprise,” she
said.

I stared at her. She was
making a jest. Goronwy glanced at me, and then grinned at Marged.
“Go on.”