The Fourth Horseman (25 page)

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Authors: Sarah Woodbury

Tags: #female detective, #wales, #middle ages, #historical romance, #medieval, #women sleuth, #prince of wales, #historical mystery, #british detective, #medieval mystery

BOOK: The Fourth Horseman
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Philippe could construct a
good argument for why Ralph is the traitor,” Gwen said. “I know
Ralph is Mari’s father, but faking his own death is surely an
extreme act, even for a spy.”


Prior Rhys did it, too,”
Gareth said.

Gwen nodded. “And we like him and want to
trust him, so why not give the same benefit of the doubt to Mari’s
father?”

Gareth shrugged. “We don’t know him.”


At least we have a little
more information than we did. Ralph is extremely lucky that no one
recognized him before now,” Gwen said. “I don’t see how he managed
to continue this deception for so long.”


It’s been anarchy in
England for the last five years, and the distance from Chester to
Kent is greater than ever,” Gareth said. “You know as well as I do
how many hundreds of men are associated with each royal court. If
Ralph changed his appearance and kept to himself, he could pass as
another man and make himself scarce during the few times the two
sides have met in council.”


Wales is a much smaller
place,” Gwen admitted, “and although I’ve traveled the length and
breadth of it, I have hardly met any noblemen from the
south.”


I haven’t
either.”

They were approaching the outskirts of
Newcastle, and the entrance to the castle lay ahead of them to the
left of the road. “I am worried about Mari,” Gwen said. “The
resurrection of her father has shaken her.”


I can’t imagine what I
would be thinking if one of my parents rose from the dead,” Gareth
said.


Ralph more than rose from
the dead,” Gwen said. “He rose and then disappeared again almost
immediately after. Mari doesn’t know if she will ever see him
again. I just hope she doesn’t do something reckless.”

Gareth pulled up near the castle gate. “What
do you mean?”


Mari is smart but
vulnerable, and … well … Hywel is very handsome.”


Prince Hywel knows that
Mari is not a girl he can take to his bed and then toss aside
afterwards,” Gareth said.


He might know it, but I’m
not sure she does,” Gwen said. “When she climbed into that cart
with Amaury, I saw a wildness in her eyes. She wanted to be
involved in the investigation, but I don’t think she was prepared
for any of what has happened.”


None of us were,” Gareth
said.


But you and I are used to
it.”

Gareth put an arm around Gwen’s shoulders.
“Am I a bad husband for putting my wife into a situation where that
could possibly be true?”


At least working on an
investigation allows us to stay together,” Gwen said. “Hywel is
used to relying on us.”


Make way! Make way for
Empress Maud!” a man shouted from the top of the gatehouse
tower.

Gareth and Gwen hustled through the
gatehouse and into the outer bailey. If they’d waited any longer,
they would have been run over by the cavalcade of horsemen riding
after them.


I’m hungry.” Gwen checked
the position of the sun in the sky. “Are we to dine in the
hall?”


Hywel said we should,”
Gareth said, “and I wouldn’t want to miss it. All the world will be
on display today.”

 

* * * * *

 

The gossip about Empress Maud was that she
was arrogant and vindictive, with a stubborn streak bordering on
pig-headedness. And that was exactly how she behaved when she
arrived at the castle. When it was time to eat, the empress swept
into the great hall with her entourage, paraded between the tables
as all the guests bowed low, and didn’t look at any of the noblemen
in the hall but her brother, who went down on one knee before
her.

Even once she reached him, she barely
acknowledged his obeisance, waving a hand dismissively as she
passed him, and then didn’t give him leave to rise until she’d
reached her chair. Given that he was the most powerful man in
England besides King Stephen, not to mention the only reason Maud
hadn’t been defeated in this war already, Gwen thought she should
have treated him better. She said as much to Gareth.


This isn’t Wales, Gwen.
The empress believes she is England’s intended queen and that God
works through her.”


Some of the Welsh kings
would like to think that,” Gwen said.


Why else fight so hard and
so long?” Gareth said. “Her support dwindles, and yet she
continues, Earl Robert at her side.”


She has too much pride to
do anything different,” Gwen said, “and she sees herself as holding
the crown in trust for her son.”

They were sitting in the middle of one of
the numerous tables in the hall. So many people needed to be fed
that the steward of the castle had made it clear that the diners at
the lower tables were to eat on a rotating basis. When they were
done eating, Gareth and Gwen would have to give up their seats to
someone else.

The pair across from them, a knight and his
wife from Chester, excused themselves, and Evan and Gruffydd sat
down in their seats, immediately setting to their food. A moment
later, another seat opened up and Prior Rhys joined them. Gwen
hadn’t seen Rhys since last evening at the chapel.


Have you been to see
Amaury today?” she said.


I’ve just come from the
friary,” Rhys said. “Amaury wakes to sleep again, but I am hopeful
for a full recovery. The friary’s infirmary is well-stocked with
herbs, and Matthias is knowledgeable.”


It’s the onset of a fever
we must worry about—”


I know,” Prior Rhys said,
not letting Gwen finish, but then he softened his tone. “I am
worried too, but Amaury’s wound is high in his left shoulder and
did little more than damage his tissues. He is in God’s hands, and
God is good.”

Gwen nodded, wanting to believe that Rhys
was right. He joined Evan and Gruffydd in their meal, and Gwen let
him eat without interruption. She turned away to observe the high
table. “Not much in the way of joy up there,” she said to
Gareth.

Gareth glanced up the hall and then took a
longer second look. “Where are the princes?”


We’re here,” said Prince
Rhun, as he and Hywel appeared on either side of Gareth and Gwen,
Mari in tow.

Everybody made room for them. “We thought it
best to make ourselves scarce,” Hywel said. “The empress is in a
very bad mood.”


Likely, someone has told
her about the horsemen,” Gwen said.

Mari squeezed in between Hywel and Gwen. Her
eyes were bright and her color high. Gwen glanced at her and then
past her to Hywel, who had grabbed a trencher and begun piling food
on it to share with Mari.


How are you?” Gwen
said.


Very well,” Mari said,
absently, as Hywel distracted her with a hunk of bread dipped in
gravy. She took it and then turned to look at Gwen more fully.
“Really, I’m fine.”


Have you heard from your
father?” Gwen watched Mari’s face closely, but Mari simply shook
her head. Her cheerful mood, despite the lack of news about her
father, confused Gwen—until Hywel leaned in to whisper something in
Mari’s ear.

Mari giggled.

Gwen’s heart sank. While she worried that
Hywel wasn’t capable of being faithful to any woman and would
ultimately break her friend’s heart, Gwen had to acknowledge Mari’s
delight at the attention Hywel was giving her. It was nice to see
Mari happy. Hywel was charming and funny, and when he trained his
attention on a girl, she felt as if nobody else existed in the
world for him but her. That didn’t make him someone to get involved
with, however, not for Gwen once upon a time, and not for Mari now.
Mari, however, wasn’t behaving like a girl who believed that.

At the same time, circumstances had been
different for Gwen. Her station as the daughter of a bard, even
King Owain’s court bard, meant that all she could have been to
Hywel was his lover. Mari could become his wife.

Gareth put a hand on Gwen’s thigh. “Let it
go, Gwen,” he said in a low voice. “Mari is your friend, but Prince
Hywel is our master. Whatever happens between them cannot be our
concern.”

Gwen ground her teeth together but nodded,
looking down at the trencher she shared with Gareth. As usual, he’d
eaten three-quarters of what they’d put on it. She nibbled on a
piece of bread, contemplating the dishes before them and wondering
if she could feign interest in more food to provide an excuse for
staying longer at the meal and keeping an eye on Mari.

As she reached out to spoon more food onto
the trencher, the door to the hall swung open. A man in a
travel-stained cloak strode through it, followed by three other
men. Hywel leaned forward to look down the table at Rhun, who
nodded. Both princes stood, and then Prince Hywel tapped Gareth’s
shoulder, his eyes on the messenger as he marched down the hall
towards the high table. “We may need you.” When the other men made
to rise as well, the prince added, “Stay with Mari and Gwen. If the
news isn’t good, I’ll want you to escort them to our camp.”


Yes, my lord,” Evan
said.

But if Hywel had intended to make his way
towards the high table, he was thwarted by the sudden crowd of men
who had the same idea as he did and who blocked the aisle between
their table and the wall. All they could do was watch the
messenger. Gareth put his head next to Gwen’s. “For him to enter
the hall this way means that something important has happened and
the empress doesn’t mind everyone knowing about it.”


What do you mean?” Mari
said, looking first at Gareth, and then over to Hywel, who stood
with his arms folded across his chest, his jaw tight. “The
messenger has just arrived.”


So it is meant to appear,”
Gareth said, “but our empress hates surprises and her retainers
know that. He would have reported first to her personal steward,
who would have then told her the news. At that point, she would
have decided whether or not to share it with the hall. Watch her
face. She won’t be surprised by what he has to say.”

The messenger went down on one knee before
the dais, as seemed to be required in the empress’s presence. She
stood from her position at the center of the high table and raised
a hand. “Rise and speak.”


I have news of a great
victory, my queen. Four days ago, King Stephen’s forces attacked
Lincoln Castle, but they have already been defeated. King Stephen
has skulked away like a dog with his tail between his
legs!”

Ranulf, whose half-brother held Lincoln for
the empress, leapt to his feet. In the uproar that followed, he
came around the table, grasped the messenger’s cloak at the
shoulders, and shook him. “Tell me! Tell me everything!”

Ranulf’s words cut through the chatter among
the tables, and in an instant the crowd quieted, neighbor shushing
neighbor as they strained to listen.


It was a miracle, my
lord,” the messenger said, clearly reveling in the information he
could impart. “Eighty of King Stephen’s men were killed when a
siege tower collapsed. The rest of his army departed in the
night.”

Ranulf swung around to look not at the
empress, whose face held a supercilious smile, but at Earl Robert.
The earl hadn’t risen to his feet and merely looked back at his
son-in-law while plucking at his lower lip with two fingers. Though
Ranulf’s reaction seemed genuine, and the empress glowed at the
news, Earl Robert wasn’t even trying to feign surprise. “That is
good news indeed,” he said.


My empress,” Ranulf bowed
before Maud, “I must ride to Lincoln immediately to support my
brother in case Stephen returns. With your permission.”

Empress Maud waved a hand in a magnanimous
gesture. “Of course.”

Ranulf strode off the dais, heading towards
a far door, as if he would leave Newcastle that instant. Maybe he
meant to. After a moment, with similar permission from his sister,
given with a wave of her hand, Earl Robert followed Ranulf.


I wish I could be a fly on
the wall to overhear the conversation those two are about to have,”
Mari said.

Gwen couldn’t disagree. “What does this mean
for our investigation?”


I have no idea.” Gareth
turned to Hywel. “What say you, my lord?”


With Ranulf leaving,
Amaury wounded, and Earl Robert focused on Prince Henry’s arrival,
we may be the only ones left interested in asking questions,” Hywel
said.

Gareth rubbed his chin. “That’s unfortunate,
because I still have far too many of them.”

Chapter
Twenty-one

Gareth

 

“I
need you to see to Mari’s safety,” Hywel said.

Gareth had already seen to Gwen’s, without
engendering much in the way of protest from her. She’d looked
exhausted, and Prior Rhys had claimed that it would be his pleasure
to escort her back to the camp. Gareth had watched her go with some
trepidation, but with some relief too. She was out of it for the
night. He hoped.

Gareth looked at his lord. “Of course.”

Hywel glanced to where Mari still sat with
Rhun, Gruffydd, and Evan. “The empress may well keep us occupied
for hours. I need you to escort Mari to the women’s solar, and then
do what you can to continue the investigation.” He pursed his lips.
“There are too many killers here altogether.”


We are all killers when we
choose to be,” Gareth said.

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