The Fallen Princess (8 page)

“While I speak to whoever had guard duty
from midnight to dawn,” Hywel said, “you find Gwen. Meet me in my
office.”

“Yes, my lord.” It was on the tip of
Gareth’s tongue to suggest that he join Hywel and speak to the
guard with him, but then he thought better of it. There was a glint
in Hywel’s eye this morning that told Gareth it would be best for
everyone if he did as he was told and didn’t question his orders
without a very good reason to do so.

Thus, he left Hywel to his task and went in
search of Gwen. He found Meilyr first. There was a time when any
interaction with Meilyr had been awkward and uncomfortable for both
of them, but either Meilyr had mellowed since Gareth’s marriage to
Gwen or Gareth had. Or both. Gareth found himself actually glad to
see his father-in-law.

“A bad business,” Meilyr said by way of a
greeting.

“Indeed,” Gareth said.

“I accompanied Gwen to see the king,” Meilyr
said.

“Thank you for that,” Gareth said and meant
it. “It was a difficult task. If I couldn’t be with her myself, I’m
glad you could.”

Meilyr didn’t seem to know what to say to
that, but his lips pressed together as if he was pleased.

“We don’t know much more than we did
before,” Gareth said. “I’ll be off in a moment with Prince Hywel in
pursuit of the few leads we currently have.”

“I assume you will limit my daughter’s
involvement in what will surely be a lengthy investigation,” Meilyr
said.

“Of course.” Gareth bowed slightly. “I
appreciate your concerns.” He said this even though he knew as well
as Meilyr that a man limited Gwen at his peril. Then Gareth smiled
to see the woman herself appear in the doorway of the great
hall.

“There you are.” Gwen came down the steps
and hurried across the courtyard towards him.

Gareth broke away from Meilyr to meet her
halfway. He caught her in a tight hug and then released her. “Your
father was just telling me of your ordeal.”

“I survived.” She nodded towards the cart.
Only now were men lifting the body from it. “You brought Tegwen
home, I see.”

“She’ll lie in a room in the barracks until
we can bury her,” Gareth said.

Meilyr cleared his throat, causing Gwen to
turn to him. “Hello, Father.”

“I don’t like to see you involved in this,
Gwen. Not with my first grandchild on the way.”

Gareth smirked but then looked away, hoping
Meilyr hadn’t noticed. Meilyr hadn’t changed so much that pomposity
was beyond him.

“I will do nothing to endanger the child,
Father.” Gwen put a hand on his arm and went up on her toes to kiss
his cheek. “Gareth will make sure that anything dangerous takes
place as far away from me as possible. I won’t even leave Aber. I
promise.”

“That’s what you always say,” Meilyr said,
grumbling.

“And I always mean it,” Gwen said.

Gareth looked down at Gwen. “Prince Hywel
asked that we meet him in his chambers.”

She took Gareth’s hand while smiling at her
father. “We can talk later.”

Meilyr waved his hand at his daughter, a
growl still on his lips. “Take care of her.”

“Yes, sir,” Gareth said. As they walked back
inside, he touched Gwen’s rounded belly and kissed her cheek. “Are
you really all right?”

“I’m fine. A little sad that this has
happened.”

“Hywel has already impressed upon me the
urgency of sorting out at least something of what happened to her
by tomorrow evening,” Gareth said and related the details of what
they’d discovered since she’d left the beach, including the
information about the cart and Cadwaladr’s pendant. He concluded,
“King Owain will certainly bury her before the sun sets tomorrow
evening.”

“It is making everyone uncomfortable that
her body turned up right before Hallowmas. They fear her ghost,”
Gwen said.

Gareth eyed his wife. “Do you?”

“Of course not, but maybe Cadwaladr does,”
Gwen said.

Gareth’s brows came together. “Why do you
say that?”

“Because he left the body on the beach!”
Gwen said. “Why do that unless he was afraid of her somehow?”

“He kept the body hidden for five years,”
Gareth said. “Why would it bother him now when it didn’t
before?”

“That I don’t know,” Gwen said, “but people
are already saying in the hall that she walks among us. Someone saw
a white light along the road last night, and in another hour, half
the castle will have seen it too.”

Gareth nodded slowly. “I would be more
afraid of the man who murdered her than of Tegwen herself.”

“You would,” Gwen said, “but you don’t
believe in ghosts.”

“Why leave her on the beach now, though?”
Gareth said. “Cadwaladr has to know that five years on, the only
possible outcome of bringing her death to light is to stir up
trouble.”

“Maybe he preferred trouble to retribution,”
Gwen said, “though I think there has to be more to it than
that.”

Gareth raised his eyebrows. “What more?”

“I think we’re looking at this wrong.
Cadwaladr may not have felt he had a choice but to move the body,”
Gwen said, “since it may be that he only recently found it.”

Gareth stopped outside Hywel’s door, looking
down at his wife. “
Cariad
, how could that possibly be right?
Cadwaladr would know where he left the body.” And then his eyes
narrowed as he understood what she was saying. “You think the man
who killed her and the man who left the body on the beach aren’t
the same person.”

Gwen nodded. “As much as we all would like
to see Cadwaladr hang for Tegwen’s murder, I am wondering if there
aren’t two opposing minds at work here: one belongs to the man who
hid the body, the killer. Knowing we all thought Tegwen happy
somewhere else, he never wanted her found; the second man feels the
exactly the opposite: he wants the body as far away from him as
possible and doesn’t want to be reminded of it ever again.”

Gareth rubbed his chin. That Cadwaladr was
to blame for Tegwen’s death would wrap this investigation up in a
neat bow. He didn’t want Gwen to be right, but the more he
considered what she’d said, the more he had to grant the
possibility that she was.

Gwen’s brow remained furrowed in
concentration. “I confess that the latter sounds more like
Cadwaladr than the former.”

Gareth urged Gwen across the threshold of
Hywel’s office and closed the door behind them. Hywel was alone in
the room. “Have you caught the killer yet?”

“Not quite,” Gwen said.

“Gwen has decided that the killer and the
man who left the body on the beach are two different people,”
Gareth said.

“Is that where we are now?” Hywel said.

“It’s an idea,” Gareth said. “Under the
circumstances, it is one you may prefer.”

Hywel’s mouth twisted into an apologetic
smile. “I had considered it.” Then he looked at Gwen. “Thank you
for speaking to my father. It went well? He didn’t eat you, I
see.”

“He was angry at first but then was more sad
than anything else.” She looked around the room. “How did you
convince Mari not to join us?”

Hywel grimaced. “Breakfast did not sit well
with her.”

Gwen focused on Hywel’s face. “I noticed
that she was picking at her meal.” She took a step towards the
prince. “Mari is with child?”

Gareth’s mouth fell open. That wouldn’t have
been his first thought, but then, he apparently wasn’t thinking
clearly this morning in many ways.

Hywel’s face split into a grin. “We think
so.”

“That’s wonderful.” Gwen threw her arms
around Hywel and hugged him. Then she backed off, holding both of
his hands. “But I just spoke with her. She said nothing to me.”

“We swore to each other that we wouldn’t
mention it, not to anyone, until we were sure,” Hywel said.

Gwen hadn’t told Gareth she was pregnant
until she was sure either, and they’d both held the news in for
half the summer during Gareth’s absence. It did no one any good to
raise hopes only to dash them later.

“You can tell her I guessed,” Gwen said.
“And I didn’t get a chance to tell Gareth yet, but she’s already
helped this investigation. She knew Tegwen better than any of us, I
think.” Gwen gave an account of her conversation with Mari to the
men.

Hywel began to pace in front of the window.
He left the shutters open except in the bitterest of weather. Today
it was warmer outside than in. “I spoke to the men on guard. Those
on duty after midnight saw nothing and heard nothing.”

“Except for the light that passed by on the
road,” Gwen said.

Hywel stopped his pacing. “What was
that?”

“The talk in the great hall is that one of
the guards saw … well … an ethereal light passing along the road in
the early hours of the morning. He has the entire hall convinced
that it was Tegwen’s ghost.”

Hywel snorted in disgust. “That’s just what
we need: a haunting. Next thing we know, the shade of Tegwen will
be meeting Bran at midnight in the woods, since he had the poor
judgment to get himself killed too.”

Gareth nodded. “Ill-fated lovers.”

“My lord, I am loath to bring this up, but
when do you plan to tell your father about Cadwaladr?” Gwen
said.

Gareth sent a look of thanks in Gwen’s
direction, but she was focused on the prince and didn’t see it.

Hywel resumed his pacing. “I say we wait to
speak of Uncle Cadwaladr until we track down this horse and cart
and determine where the body came from.” He glanced at Gwen.
“Gareth and I will see to that while you find out about Tegwen’s
last days.”

Gwen put her hands on her hips. “You give me
all the thankless tasks. Do you have any suggestions as to how I
might accomplish that?”

Hywel ignored Gwen’s irritation. “Everyone
has gathered at Aber for the holy day. The sudden appearance of her
body will bring memories to the surface. Gather them.”

“More specifically,” Gareth said, “Mari
spoke of Tegwen’s unhappy marriage and of a lover. Who was he?
Where is he now? What might he know of the events leading up to her
disappearance? Someone here has to be able to tell us more about
her life.”

Gwen looked thoughtful now instead of
defiant. “Yes, my lord.”

“Meanwhile, Gareth and I—” Hywel halted his
pacing, his expression clearing with the promise of activity, “—are
off again.”

Privately, Gareth was still wondering if the
body really was that of Tegwen and not someone else wearing her
clothing and necklace, but one look at Hywel’s face had him
swallowing down any argument. He would go where his lord pointed,
as he always did.

Gwen

G
wen grumbled to
herself as she said goodbye to the men and walked out of Hywel’s
office. She’d promised her father that she wouldn’t leave Aber; she
had known before she met with Hywel and Gareth what the end result
would be
.
More and more of late, her condition was
preventing her from doing what she wanted to do. It wasn’t because
she couldn’t be as active as in the past, necessarily, and
certainly Gwen cared little about what people thought, but the
worst thing would be to do something strenuous and damage the baby.
She would never forgive herself if she miscarried the child.

The frustrating confinement of Gwen’s
pregnancy would be easier to accept if Mari was pregnant. Although
Mari had never been as adventurous as Gwen herself, they’d kept
each other company during the long summer without their men. Gareth
had journeyed with Hywel to Ceredigion in the south, and from the
little Gareth said, Gwen knew that Hywel was consumed with
solidifying his hold on his lands in the wake of Cadwaladr’s
treachery last summer. He and Gareth had fought more than one
battle already in pursuit of that goal, and she was terribly afraid
that they would be fighting many more.

Because the Norman influence was greater in
the south, most of the pressure on Hywel’s rule came from them, not
Cadell, the King of Deheubarth. Hywel’s forces had raided the
Norman castle of Aberteifi (which the Normans called Cardigan) and
come away victorious, having burned the castle to the ground. The
repercussions of that raid were still to be felt, which was why
Hywel (and Gareth) would be staying in Gwynedd for only a few
months before heading south again after the Christmas feast. Gwen
already felt the pang of longing at the thought of Gareth leaving
again. They hadn’t had enough time together. They never had enough
time together.

And if he left, Gareth wouldn’t be with her
when their baby was born. She had already been on her knees praying
for inclement weather that would prevent Hywel from leaving Aber
and for the baby to come early.

Gwen stopped in the corridor with one hand
on the wall and the other on her belly, feeling the baby shift
under her hand. Gwen could hear the hubbub in the great hall and
needed to compose herself before joining it. Too many times since
Gwen had discovered her pregnancy, she’d found the fear of the
future engulfing her. She feared dying in childbirth. She feared
Gareth’s death in battle. As always, she told herself to put aside
her fear, because it would prevent her from living in whatever time
she had left. That, however, was easier said than done.

The great hall remained nearly as full as it
had been earlier that morning. Gwen didn’t see Mari at the high
table and stopped, unsure where she should look for her friend.
Mari hadn’t been sleeping in the room adjacent to Hywel’s office
either. Then Gwen felt a hand on her arm.

“Lady Gwen?” It was Mari’s maid, Hafwen.
“Princess Mari asked me to tell you that she has gone to lie down
in the manor house. She requests that you attend to her later but
that she needs to sleep now.”

Gwen nodded. With the enormous crowd of
people coming into Aber, Mari and Hywel had already been planning
to move from where they normally slept in the room adjacent to
Hywel’s office to the manor house where they would be sharing a
room with Gareth and Gwen. An entire family of King Owain’s
relations who lived near Dolbadarn would be occupying Hywel’s usual
chambers.