The Fourth Horseman (30 page)

Then Rhun put his hand on Gareth’s shoulder.
“It has to be chaos in the castle right now. With Ranulf gone and
Amaury injured, Earl Robert needs men who can think. That’s
you.”

“
Surely you would be better
suited to that task—”

“
I’ve already searched the
castle from top to bottom. My brother isn’t there. Hywel’s life is
in danger, and I can be of no use to Earl Robert or the empress
until he is found,” Prince Rhun said.

“
I will go with Gareth,”
Gwen said.

Rhun shook his head. “You should return to
the camp.”

“
She can’t go off on her
own, not in this crowd,” Gareth said, taking Gwen’s hand. “I won’t
let her out of my sight.”

“
What about us?” Llelo and
Dai had been standing behind Rhun, hopping from one foot to the
other, waiting for their assignment.

Rhun swung around to look at them, but
instead of sending them back to the camp like Gwen expected, he
said, “You know the friary and its grounds better than most, I
imagine. You will come with me to find Philippe and tell him what
has happened.”

“
Yes, my lord!” the two
boys sang in unison and then set off, sprinting down the road
towards the friary.

Rhun turned back to Gareth and Gwen. “Come
to us there when you can.”

Gareth handed the prince the reins of his
horse, upon which he and Gwen had ridden together from the camp.
“Take him. It’ll be faster.”

More sure and decisive than Gwen had ever
seen him, Rhun swung into the saddle and spurred the horse after
the boys.

Gwen hurried beside Gareth towards the
gatehouse, lifting her skirt so the hem wouldn’t trip her up. Like
a fool, she’d dressed in finery again, in honor of the coming of
Prince Henry. She should have known better.

Shouts still erupted from the bailey, but
the crowd wasn’t shoving and heaving anymore, and as they came
under the gatehouse, Gwen understood why: the guards had dropped
the portcullis. Gwen and Gareth had to be let in by the wicket
gate. Gareth pointed at one of the guards as he passed through.
“What happened?”

The man’s face was as white as new-fallen
snow. Gareth’s question seemed to settle him a little, however, and
he said, “The prince dismounted, there was a scuffle, and a sudden
press of men and horses. When everyone retreated, Prince Henry lay
bleeding on the ground.”

“
Did you see who did it?”
Gareth said.

The guard shook his head. “I didn’t. Nobody
did. We were all focused on the empress.”

“
How do you mean?” Gwen
said. “Why the empress?”

“
Earl Robert was waiting
for Prince Henry on the steps to the keep,” the guard said. “He
signaled for the horns to blow, which they did, and then the
empress made her grand entrance. By the time the noise stopped, the
prince was—was—”

Gwen put a hand on his arm. “We understand.
You’ve done well to stay at your post.”

“
Don’t let anyone in or
out,” Gareth said. “I would have thought that order would already
have been given.”

“
It-it-it was,” the man
said, still not recovered.

Gareth stepped closer. “You let us in.”

“
I recognized
you.”

“
Did you let anyone out?”
Gwen said.

The man shook his head.

Gareth nudged Gwen. “We need to keep moving.
It’s unlikely that the assassin would have tried to leave this way,
not when there are other choices. We need to find where he did
go.”

“
He could have gone through
the tunnel, like you said before,” Gwen said.

“
That was my thought, too,”
Gareth said.

They hurried towards the northwest tower,
though not without glancing towards the center of the courtyard,
because they couldn’t help it. Blood stained the ground and men
milled around it, avoiding the spot but unable to stop looking at
it.

“
I don’t understand it,”
Gareth said.

“
What?”

“
Nobody is paying us the
slightest attention.”

“
Everyone is still in shock
over what happened to Prince Henry,” Gwen said.

“
That’s no excuse,” Gareth
said. “Where is Earl Robert or the empress? No one in authority is
anywhere to be seen.”

Gwen didn’t have an answer for him. They
clattered down the tower stairs to the guardroom; both guards were
present and alert. “You heard?” Gareth said.

“
Yes, sir,” said the first
guard, a tall, blond man in his twenties with a thick beard. His
face was very pale.

“
Did anyone come through
here?” Gareth said.

“
No, sir!” The man
stiffened to attention. “None except three of Earl Ranulf’s
men.”

“
What were they doing?”
Gwen said.

“
They said they’d seen the
assassin escape and were chasing him,” the guard said.

“
But the assassin didn’t
come this way himself?” Gareth said.

“
No sir, not through here.
I assumed he meant that the assassin had escaped like that spy,
Alard, by rope from over the battlement.”

“
Who’s
he
?” Gwen moved to stand at Gareth’s
shoulder. “Which of Ranulf’s men do you mean?”

“
I—” The man looked from
Gwen to Gareth, confused by their joint questioning. “It was Sir
Amaury, with his arm in a sling. I don’t know the names of the two
men with him.”

Gareth turned to Gwen. “We can leave the
pursuit in this direction in Amaury’s hands. With the friary and
Philippe close by, he’ll have the men he needs.”

“
I’m just happy that he was
able to rise from his bed,” Gwen said.

“
Did they give you the name
or a description of the one they were hunting?” Gareth
said.

The soldier shook his head.

Gwen and Gareth returned to the bailey,
wending their way through the crowd that remained. A few people
talked among themselves, but most watched the entrance to the keep,
hoping for news. Several men, one a priest, had gathered on the
steps to hold a prayer vigil. Gareth and Gwen passed them by
without a second glance and entered the anteroom to the great
hall.

Once inside, Gwen hesitated. The door to the
great hall was closed. Likely, Prince Henry had been laid on a
table inside. Gareth kept going, but Gwen didn’t follow. “I think
we should go this way.” Gwen changed direction, heading towards one
of the side doors to the anteroom.

“
Where are you going?
Prince Rhun wanted me to offer my services to the earl.” Gareth
followed Gwen, but his tone told her that his patience was very
thin.

“
I think we should go first
to Earl Robert’s apartments,” Gwen said.

“
Earl Robert should be in
the great hall …” Gareth’s voice trailed off as Gwen took the
stairs up to the next level.

“
Did Earl Robert strike you
as a fool?” she said.

“
Of course not,” Gareth
said.

“
Or a man who held his
nephew’s life cheaply?” Gwen said.

“
No—”

They had reached the corridor at the end of
which lay the earl’s rooms. When they’d first arrived at Newcastle
and Gwen had explored the interior in a free moment, she’d noticed
that maids always hovered around the farthest door. Today was no
exception, except that instead of two in front of the door, there
were three. The women hushed at Gwen and Gareth’s approach.

“
Don’t you have something
better to do?” Gareth said in French. “Why are you always
here?”

Gwen put a hand on his arm. “They work for
the earl, Gareth.”

Gareth’s brow furrowed, making Gwen smile
despite the urgency of the moment. For all that he was used to
having a wife who did men’s work, Gareth still couldn’t imagine
other women doing the same. The maids smirked back at Gareth. “You
shouldn’t be here,” said one of them, a slatternly-looking woman
with a swirl of bright red hair.

“
Earl Robert sent us to sit
with Prince Henry until he could sort everything out,” Gwen
said.

The woman pursed her lips, but after a
moment’s pause, she nodded. “He’s in a bad way.” She opened the
door to the room.

A boy not yet in his teens sat on a bench at
the end of a four-poster bed hung with burgundy curtains. He was
alone. And he was crying.

They entered the room and the maid/guard
shut the door behind them. Prince Henry looked up at their
entrance, but such was his defeat that he didn’t protest at the
appearance of complete strangers, just hung his head. “Bernard is
dead. He died for me.”

“
I know.” Gwen glided to
Henry, sat beside him, and took his hand. “That was a risk he took,
one that every man takes when he cares for the next King of
England.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Henry took what
Gwen was offering and put his face into her shoulder. He gave three
or four heaving sobs before he sat up again, wiping his eyes. “My
uncle will be ashamed of me if he sees me like this.”

“
There is no shame in
grief,” Gareth said to Henry and then switched to Welsh for Gwen’s
ears only. “How did you know?”

She lifted one shoulder. “It came to me as
we crossed the bailey that Earl Robert might not have been as
willing to risk his nephew’s life as it first appeared. And if I
was wrong, if the prince really was dead, we lost nothing in
pursuing my hunch.”

Prince Henry pushed away from Gwen and
stood. He gripped his hair with both hands and then paced to the
window and back. “I need to know what is happening out there.”

“
You need to stay here,
where it’s safe,” Gwen said, back to speaking French, “else
Bernard’s sacrifice will be for nothing.”

“
That’s what my uncle
said,” Henry said.

“
While we wait for news,
can you tell us what happened?” Gareth said, still in his position
by the door. Gwen knew what he was thinking now: Those women might
guard the prince, but he and Gwen had entered with no trouble at
all. For all that Earl Robert had thought far enough ahead to
arrange for a decoy for Prince Henry, it seemed he hadn’t given as
much thought to what came after.

Prince Henry lifted a hand and then dropped
it in a gesture that looked very much like despair. He sat back
down on the bench beside Gwen. “I rode here, well in the rear of
the company. My primary guards protected Bernard; they always do.
I’m not sure how many of them truly think that Bernard is the
prince. Uncle Robert insisted on this arrangement and that I not
give the game away by word or deed. Still, I had guards around me,
too.”

“
Were you disguised for the
whole journey or just as you approached the castle?” Gareth
said.

“
I’ve always been
disguised,” Henry said, and when Gwen and Gareth couldn’t hide
their puzzlement, he added, “even at Bristol, even when men came to
greet me, it has always been Bernard that they see, not
me.”

Gwen found her jaw dropping at the audacity
and complexity of the ruse, and her estimation of Earl Robert went
up another three notches.

“
I found it irritating at
first,” Henry said, continuing his story in the face of their
stunned silence, “but when I realized how much more freedom it gave
me, I embraced it. It was Bernard who was forced to attend the fine
dinners and speak formally with visitors. I was usually with him,
as one of his retainers and friends, but the lack of attention paid
to me was refreshing after my father’s house in France.”

“
Your father expects a
great deal from you, doesn’t he?” Gwen said.

“
He expects me to inherit
England, Normandy, and Anjou,” Henry said matter-of-factly.
“Nothing else matters.”

King Owain’s attitude wasn’t any different;
he possessed a similar pride and Gwen knew that Hywel, even as a
second son, had felt that pressure his whole life.

“
Did you see who killed
Bernard?” Gareth said.

Gwen was glad that Gareth was the one to ask
that of Henry. Sometimes a soft voice like hers was more likely
than a gruff one to set off tears, and they needed Henry
focused.

The boy swallowed. “I saw the man—or thought
I saw him—but now I’m sure I was confused in all the chaos.”

“
We need to know the one
you saw, even if you think you might have been mistaken.” Gareth
moved to crouch in front of Henry, ignoring the fact that there was
something slightly unseemly about grilling a ten-year-old
princeling for information about his friend’s murder.

Henry still didn’t want to say, but after
hemming and hawing for another few heartbeats, he said, “It was
that fellow who came with Ranulf to see Uncle Robert in Bristol
last month. Amaury was his name.”

“
What?” Gwen spoke in
Welsh, such was her shock. Gareth reached over to put a gentle hand
on her leg.

“
Amaury was among the men
who greeted us when we entered the bailey just now. He grabbed the
bridle of the horse next to Bernard’s to hold him steady and then
moved to help Bernard dismount. His left arm was in a sling, which
made his motion awkward,” Henry said. “Because of the sling, I
continued to watch him, even after the trumpets rang and everyone
turned to see my mother arrive on the steps of the keep.

“
At that point, Bernard’s
horse blocked my view. By the time he shifted again, Amaury was
gone and Bernard lay bleeding on the ground. I next saw Amaury
running towards one of the towers, pointing and shouting at his men
that he’d seen the assassin and they needed to come with him.”
Henry shook his head. “I can’t say more than that.”