The Uninvited Guest (30 page)

“
She’s very clever, you
know,” Gwen said. “She suggested that we were looking at this all
wrong; that the murders weren’t about your father, or Enid, or the
servant who died, even if the two murders were intended to cover up
other wrongdoing. Someone wanted to stop
the wedding
. He’d tried a range of
methods to do so, and failed with each attempt. Coming on top of
all the other evil that has occurred these last few days, if your
father and Cristina had become ill, the king might have cancelled
the wedding permanently. The question becomes, then, who had the
most to lose by the marriage?”

“
Rhun and I,” Hywel said.
“And my uncle Cadwaladr.”

Gwen shrugged. “Perhaps, but your father has
many sons and he’ll have many more, whether he marries Cristina or
not.”

“
True,” Hywel said.
“They’re married now, for better or for worse. They should have
gotten married weeks ago.”

“
They didn’t know,” Gwen
said. “We’ve only just figured it out.”

“
So what changed?” Hywel
said. “What sent the murderer over the edge? We’ve known for months
that my father and Cristina would make a match of it.”

“
Who didn’t realize until a
month ago how much he stood to lose?” Gwen said.

Hywel ran both hands through his hair and
tugged. “Nobody.”

“
What about Tomos of
Rhuddlan?” Gwen said. “Given that he missed your father’s wedding,
he must be the baron who rode away today.”

Hywel shook his head. “That doesn’t make
sense. He’s not losing anything, not really, not when he gains an
estate at Nefyn.”

“
He might not see it that
way,” Gwen said.

“
I
can
say that he’s no longer in the
castle.” Hywel let his hands fall to his sides. “Could the killer
have acted again? Could he have murdered Tomos and stashed his body
in an out-of-the-way location?”

“
How much
more
likely is it that
Tomos didn’t want to lose Rhuddlan to Cristina.” A shiver passed
through Gwen. She’d spoken with the man many times. He’d held her
arm. She’d seen him charm everyone around him without trying. He
was far more personable than Cadwaladr, and yet, could that charm
really mask a killer? “If the murderer is Tomos, he has deceived
everyone.”

“
Possibly, for years,”
Hywel said.

“
What did your father say
about his absence?” Gwen said.

“
I haven’t spoken to him
yet, but it’s not like he didn’t notice.” Hywel gazed towards the
doors to the great hall, then turned back to Gwen. “I’ll ask him as
soon as mass is over. We’ll do what we can until then.”

The priest would combine the wedding mass
with evening prayers, so Hywel and Gwen had another hour before the
service ended. Because the inhabitants of the castle would feast
afterwards, controlled chaos reigned in the kitchen as Gwen and
Hywel entered it.

Dai, the cook, flung out a hand to them.
“I’ll be with you in a moment!” He threw something into a pot
boiling on the fire, yelled at the boy turning a pig on a spit in
the roasting pit, and opened the rear door to the kitchen. A waft
of cool air swept through the kitchen. Dai hurried to them. “I know
about the wine. I’ve kept the cups here as you asked.”

Dai showed them to a tray where the carafe
and two goblets stood. Dai worked at his apron with both hands.
“First it was Sir Gareth, poisoned last summer, now this. I don’t
know if I can trust any of my helpers. I’ll never hire new
again.”

“
It’s not your fault, Dai,”
Hywel said. “If a lord asks you for wine, you can hardly naysay
him.”

“
I don’t even remember him
asking.” Dai snapped his fingers at a woman who was rolling out
dough. “Did you see who it was?” he said.

This was a different woman from the serving
girl they’d spoken to in the hall. She began to shake her head, and
then stopped. “Wait a moment.” She brushed flour from her hands and
came closer. “I didn’t think anything of it because he’s come
through here asking for wine a dozen times in the last two days. I
was so used to it, that I didn’t remember until now.”

“
Who was it?” Hywel said,
his voice low and urgent. “Can you describe him?”

The woman’s brow furrowed as she thought.
“He told me his name … it’s right on the tip of my tongue … there
are so many lords here. He was the only one who ever spoke to me as
if he saw me.”

Dai’s forehead wrinkled as he thought. “Yes,
yes. That’s right. I can’t keep track. We have two dozen barons in
the castle just now. We’re all run off our feet.”

“
I know,” Hywel said. “I’m
sorry.”

Gwen decided to risk a suggestion. She
didn’t want to prejudice the woman by giving her Tomos’ name, but
they were getting nowhere. “Do you know where he was from?”

“
Oh yes!” The woman
brightened. “He complimented my pastries and said that if I ever
tired of Aber, he could use me in the kitchens at
Rhuddlan.”

Gwen and Hywel gazed at her. Neither spoke.
It seemed incredible that the killer could be Tomos.

The baker misjudged their horror, thinking
it directed at her. “I would never go, of course.”

Gwen put a hand on her arm. “Thank you.
You’ve helped enormously.”

Hywel turned to Dai. “I believe the threat
has passed for now, but no food or drink goes to the high table
untested.”

“
I swear it,” Dai said. “I
will try everything myself.”

“
And I will bring it,” Gwen
said.

“
We both will,” Hywel said.
“And Rhun too. I may be a Prince of Wales, but I am my father’s
son. Today, we will serve him.”

“
It won’t matter, though,”
Gwen said. “They are married; the papers are signed.”

“
And Lord Tomos is gone,”
Hywel said.

Chapter
Twenty-Four

G
areth left Chester behind him, riding faster than was probably
wise, given the darkness. At least it wasn’t raining. He wondered
how Gwen was faring at Aber and wished that he had an easy way to
communicate with her, to tell her all he knew. He’d missed talking
to her all those months in Ceredigion. He resolved not to waste
another day, once he returned to Aber.

But should he go to
Rhuddlan before heading home to Aber?
Gareth stewed about it all the way from Chester, past the
Dyke, and during the long miles to St. Asaph. Lord Tomos’ treachery
was no less than what Prince Cadwaladr had done last summer. He’d
always been a staunch friend of the king, or so they had all
thought. Gareth couldn’t accuse him of betrayal and murder without
stone-hard evidence.

Did the rest of the answers lie at Rhuddlan,
or at Aber? He had Pedr’s ring and his statement. Was that enough?
Ultimately, Gareth decided he couldn’t decide tonight and would
have to stop for his horse’s sake. From the location of the moon,
Gareth guessed it was after midnight. No matter what decision he
reached, he couldn’t ride to Aber tonight. Perhaps Prior Rhys could
help him clarify what he should do.

The road had risen steadily before him as
he’d left the coast, but began to head downhill again as he neared
the monastery and the Clwyd River. Gareth turned toward the gate
and woke its keeper, who was none too pleased to find himself
upright and in the cold after midnight. Gareth got him to open the
door, however, after a reluctant, “Oh, it’s you.”

“
I’ll bed down in the
stables with my horse,” Gareth said. “I don’t want to put you out
further.”

“
Prior Rhys would have my
head if I let that happen.”

Without calling for another
monk, the man let Gareth into the same warming room in which he’d
sat the day before.
Or was it two days
ago?
Having had far too little sleep in the
last few days, Gareth was losing track. The fire warmed the room,
and Gareth smiled to see two novices curled up on the floor. The
dormitory must be very cold to have forced the young men in
here.

The gatekeeper grunted and prodded one of
them with his toe. “Up!”

The boy opened his eyes and popped to his
feet, guilt written all over his face. “Brother Anselm!”

“
Get Sir Gareth, here, some
food and a warm blanket. Then you can go back to sleep. In your own
cot.”

“
Yes, Brother.”

“
Thank you,” Gareth said.
“I don’t want to trouble you further, but I really must speak to
Prior Rhys.”

The gatekeeper stared at Gareth. “Now?”

“
Yes.”

The gatekeeper grimaced, and then nodded.
“Stay here.”

Gareth settled in front of the fire,
thankful to be warm and indoors—and oddly alone. The other night,
he’d slept in the guest dormitory with several other men: a
merchant passing through with his family and two brothers mourning
the loss of their mother, in whose name they’d donated a
candlestick to the Abbey. Gareth couldn’t remember the last time
he’d slept in a room entirely empty except for him. Had he
ever?

After a half hour wait, Prior Rhys pushed
open the door to the warming room. “So you have returned. Did you
find the boy?”

“
I did, Prior,” Gareth
said. “As a result of my actions, Pedr was put from the city, but
is otherwise unharmed. He is not to return to Wales, however. I’d
appreciate it if you’d send me word at Aber if he appears in your
Abbey again.”

“
Of course,” Prior Rhys
said, “though I am saddened by this turn of events.”

Gareth didn’t care to discuss them, though
if anything he pitied the prior and his misplaced affection. “I’m
sorry for rousing you, but …”

Prior Rhys studied him from under his bushy
eyebrows. “I assume it is important or you would not have.”

“
I have a question, and
then a request.”

“
Indeed.” Prior Rhys tucked
his hands into the arms of his robe.

“
It’s about the steward of
Rhuddlan, Caradoc. You said he was a regular visitor to the Abbey.
Why does he come here?”

“
I’d like to say he comes
for God, though I suspect it’s rather for the meal and the news we
gather. Yet, he has come four times this month in a quest for
medicine for one of his charges.”

“
Medicine?” Gareth said.
“What kind of medicine?”

“
An old retainer who lives
in Rhuddlan’s village is suffering from a wasting disease,” the
prior said. “He has trouble sleeping. Our infirmary has a tincture
that eases his pain.”

“
The tincture isn’t … poppy
juice?” Gareth said.

“
Why, yes it is,” the prior
said. “How did you know?”

“
A good guess,” Gareth
said, the grimness that had followed him these last days settling
solidly onto his shoulders. “I don’t understand why Caradoc had to
come four times, though. Didn’t you give him a bottle?”

“
No, no,” the prior said.
“It is far too dangerous a potion. My herbalist gives him two doses
each time at most. No lay person should have access to more than
that, even a man as responsible as Caradoc.”

Gareth scrubbed his face with both hands.
“If I have this right, your healer gave Caradoc eight doses in
all?”

“
That sounds about
right.”

“
And when did this begin?”
Gareth said.

The prior’s brow furrowed. He’d answered
Gareth’s questions easily enough, but doubt was beginning to creep
in. “In the beginning of November. What’s this all about?”

Gareth debated with himself as to what he
should say, and then opted for the truth. “A quantity of poppy
juice was used on several men at Aber. We have been searching for
its source.”

“
And you think it came from
St. Asaph? But Caradoc has not left Rhuddlan. How would it get
to—?” Prior Rhys broke off, and then nodded. “It would have gone
with Lord Tomos’ party. But surely you don’t suspect the man
himself?”

Gareth merely looked at him steadily.

“
I see.”

Gareth had no doubt that
the prior
saw far too much. “Thus, my
request.”

“
If I can in all conscience
assist you, I will,” Prior Rhys said.

“
You have already helped me
considerably, and by extension, King Owain, but this is different.
I need one of your laymen to ride west with a message,” Gareth
said. “It is most urgent I get word of what I know to King
Owain.”

“
At once,” Prior Rhys said
without hesitation. “Anything else?”

“
I need tools with which to
write.”

“
Ah. A man of many
talents,” the prior said. “If you wait here, I will send for what
you need, and arrange for a rider.”

After a short wait, Gareth
settled at a small table, ink and paper before him, wondering how
to say what needed to be said. That Lord Tomos was behind the
assassination and the murders, Gareth had no doubt. It had come to
him on the road from Chester that he had everything at his
fingertips now, except for the
why
of it. How long had Tomos’ resentment against King
Owain festered? Years? Gareth suspected that Tomos’ treachery had
been sparked the moment King Owain informed Tomos that he would be
giving Rhuddlan to Cristina upon their marriage. In that instant,
the king had found himself a deadly enemy.