The Bard's Daughter (A Gareth and Gwen Medieval Mystery) (5 page)

“
I was like a son to him,” Ifan said. “Why would I wish for his death?”

“
The cart, for one thing,” Gwen said, “and everything in it. With Collen’s death, you can strike out on your own.”

Ifan shook his head. “No.” He spat on the ground. “Lord Cadfael told me just now that everything Collen owned belongs to either Collen’s partner or his widow. I get nothing. I don’t even own the clothes on my back, though I’ll go straight to hell before I let anyone take them from me.” The tears were gone and Ifan’s face had gone red as his temper had risen.

Gwen decided it was time to divert the conversation. “I didn’t know Collen had a partner or a widow. He never spoke of them.”

“
He kept his business to himself,” Ifan said.

“
Do you know where either the partner or the widow live?” Gwen said. “Someone has to tell them that Collen is dead.”

“
They already know,” Ifan said. “The widow, Eva, arrived at mid-day yesterday. The partner, Denis, met us on the road and entered Carreg Cennen when we did, three days ago.”

Gwen and her family had spent the winter at Carreg Cennen Castle, so Gwen was surprised that she’d missed out on any talk or gossip about Collen. She’d not spoken to the man more than once or twice in passing since he arrived, but she was observant enough to note that he hadn’t sat with anyone in particular at the meal last night.

Then again, as Ifan had pointed out, Collen kept his business to himself, except when he wanted something—like her father to smuggle goods for him. She
believed
her father when he’d told her that he’d turned Collen down, and that he hadn’t been angry. Could he have lied to her, even about something as important as this?

And then she admonished herself for her naïveté, because of course he could. Her father had been stern and distant all through her growing up and at times she’d hated him for it. He’d always had his mind directed towards his own well-being, and that of Gwalchmai. Ever since Gwalchmai’s birth, and her mother’s death in birthing him, Meilyr’s only use for Gwen was as a child-minder. But he loved Gwalchmai and she believed him when he said that he would do nothing to jeopardize his future.

“
May I look through Collen’s things?” Gwen said. “It might help us discover who murdered him.”

“
Everyone knows who murdered him,” Ifan said. “Your father.”

“
My father didn’t have anything to do with this,” Gwen said. “He couldn’t have.” She’d lost track of the number of times she’d said those words. And yet, in the face of everyone else’s staunch certainty, a wavering voice had begun in her head, wondering if it was others she was trying to convince—or herself.

“
I heard he was found with the body.
And
I heard what he said to Collen last night.” Ifan sneered. “Wait until I tell Gruffydd of it. It will be the final nail in his coffin.”

Gwen licked her lips. Her father hadn’t said anything about an open fight, and certainly not one that had been loud enough for Ifan to hear. But if Ifan knew of it, who else might speak of it to Gruffydd? “What did you hear? When? Please tell me.”

“
It was last night.” Ifan stuck out his chin. “Collen and Meilyr were at each other’s throats in the stable.” He pointed with his knife towards the planks to his left that formed the side wall of the stable. “They didn’t shout, but their words were fierce. They wouldn’t have known I could hear them. People always think that a wall keeps sound in when it doesn’t.”

“
I already know what they discussed,” Gwen said. “My father told me. Collen wanted my father to smuggle a stolen item out of Carreg Cennen.”

Ifan snorted his disbelief. “That’s what he told you, did he? If that were true, why did Meilyr call Collen a
cheating bastard
?”

Gwen eyed Ifan. “He didn’t. You made that up.”

“
I speak the truth,” Ifan said. “Collen had promised your father a gift for helping him arrange a trading partnership with Lord Cadfael.”

“
And Collen refused to give it?” Gwen said. “Why would he do that?”

Ifan shrugged. “Because he never gave away anything he didn’t have to. Your father threatened to kill him.”

Gwen stared at him. This was getting worse by the hour. She hadn’t thought that was possible. “I know my father didn’t kill Collen.” Gwen had no intention of letting Ifan know he was getting to her. “And you say you didn’t, but if I prove my father’s innocence, on whom will suspicion fall next? Who would be Gruffydd’s easiest target?”

“
Not me,” Ifan said. “I had nothing to gain.”

“
Prove it,” Gwen said. “Let me search the cart.”

To Gwen’s surprise, Ifan shrugged. “Nothing in there belongs to me anyway.” He pushed up from his stool, his booted feet scuffling in the loose hay beneath his feet. He unlatched the flap that protected Collen’s goods and raised it. Then he stepped aside, making room for Gwen.

Gwen stepped up and began picking through the shelves and drawers that Collen had cleverly built into his mobile market stall. But while Gwen saw plenty of items she might want for herself, she didn’t see a discarded vial. It had been silly to think she would. Ifan wasn’t the smartest boy in the castle, but if he was the murderer, surely he would have known better than to keep evidence of his guilt. And as he said, what had he to gain from Collen’s death?

Gwen rubbed her forehead with her fingers, feeling a headache coming on. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on what she should do next.

“
You might talk to Collen’s partner,” Ifan said. “And to the widow, Eva.”

“
I will do that. I’m sorry to bother you at a time like this.”

Ifan lifted one shoulder in acknowledgement of the apology. Gwen turned away, though not without casting a last glance at the servant. He had lowered himself onto his stool again, this time with his back to the courtyard—and to her. Gwen left him to himself, but instead of returning to the hall to look for Eva or Denis, she ducked under the eaves of the stable.

As she stood in the doorway, allowing her eyes to adjust to the lack of light, a vision of another day and a different stable rose before her eyes. That time, she hadn’t been alone. Gareth had been with her.

Gareth.

She’d spent her days watching for him, waiting for him to return from patrol, or bringing him food from the kitchen. On one of the days he’d been let off from his duties, she’d searched him out. He had been currying his horse in the stable. A thong at the base of his neck secured his dark hair, though bits of straw had still managed to stick in it. She’d plucked one out, and as he’d looked at her, she’d known that he was the best thing ever to happen to her. It had all felt so
right
.

She’d cried in his arms when he’d told her he was leaving. She’d railed at him at the time, but he’d explained firmly that he had to live with himself, no matter where he lived. He couldn’t obey Prince Cadwaladr’s orders, any more than he could stop loving her. Sometimes a man had to stand up for what was right, lest he lose his immortal soul.

But his loss of station meant that he couldn’t provide for her and thus, Meilyr had refused to give Gwen to him. Although Gwen had looked for Gareth in every place they’d stopped since, she’d never seen him again. As Gwen allowed her eyes to adjust to the shadows in the stable, she told herself that Saran was right. He was gone. Gwen had to admit that it was forever. He could even be dead.

Yet even so, he remained with her and the same feeling of certainty—of
rightness
—that she’d felt when she stood with Gareth in that stable years ago came over her again now. She had been looking at this task all wrong. It wasn’t her job to prove her father innocent. It was to find the truth, no matter where that led her. All her life, she’d leaned on others—on her mother, on Gareth, on her father, even as she resented her dependency—and now there was nobody left to lean on but herself.

Gwen choked under her breath. How was she to find her own way? Discovering the identity of Collen’s murderer paled in comparison to standing on her own two feet.

Even so, the only way to reach tomorrow was through today. Gwen turned towards the wall of the stable where Ifan had said Collen and her father had argued. Gwen lifted the lantern that hung by the stable door and brought it with her, peering at the floor near the wall.

Her bad luck held and there was nothing to see there but dirty straw and a packed earthen floor. She’d hoped to find something that would help her piece together the night’s events. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe her father, or Ifan, necessarily, but that one of the things Gareth had impressed upon her was that she shouldn’t take anyone’s word (but his) without confirming it for herself.

Sadly, such a stance eroded trust, but it was good advice when one’s father was accused of murder.

“
What are you doing?”

Gwen swung around at the voice, to see one of the stable boys, Wyn, leaning on his hay fork in the closest stall. He was friends with Edain and they were of an age, though where Edain was tall and lanky, Wyn hadn’t come into his growth yet. She knew enough of fourteen year old boys to know that it irked him to be shorter than all his friends, but from the size of his feet, that growth would come soon. Last week, when he had been looking morose, she’d even told him so.

“
Just looking,” Gwen said.

Wyn peered past her. “For what?” His voice didn’t hold suspicion, just curiosity.

“
Did you overhear an argument between my father and Collen the trader yesterday?” Gwen said.

Wyn’s forehead furrowed. “No.”

Gwen’s shoulders fell. If anyone had heard them, it would have been Wyn.

Then the Wyn’s eyes brightened. “But I did see Meilyr with a woman later in the evening.”

Gwen’s chin came up. “You saw my father with a woman? What woman?”

Wyn shrugged. “I didn’t see her face. I didn’t see much of any of her. She wore a cloak with the hood pulled up.”

“
Was she short, tall, have dark hair—what?” Gwen’s heart raced. Perhaps she hadn’t lost her mind. Perhaps there really was more to this than Robert and Gruffydd thought.

“
I don’t know. She was shorter than he, anyway, with a laugh that carried. I saw them in here after the evening meal, after the singing had finished in the hall. They left the stable for the kitchen garden arm in arm.”

“
Did they really?” Gwen said. That didn’t sound much like her father. As far as she knew, and she’d been paying attention, he hadn’t spent the evening with a woman more than a few times in the last ten years, and not at all at Carreg Cennen. “How do you know that the man she was with was my father?”

“
I would recognize his voice anywhere,” the boy said.

Gwen had to grant that this was true. Her father’s rich baritone had filled many a hall over the years. He had even been the court bard for the King of Gwynedd until the old king’s death. Their troubles had started after that, when the king’s son, Owain Gwynedd, hadn’t immediately confirmed Meilyr in his position. Her father had been offended and the two men had fallen out over it.

Or rather, her father had been short of temper, King Owain had been stubborn, and Meilyr had taken Gwen and Gwalchmai away from Aberffraw, never to return. That was years ago and they hadn’t re-entered Gwynedd since.

“
So you wouldn’t know this woman again if you saw her?” Gwen said.

Wyn shook his head. “I think I would recognize anyone who lived here. She has to be one of the visitors to the castle.”

“
The castle is full of visitors today,” Gwen said. “You really didn’t see anything more?”

“
I didn’t follow them, if that’s what you’re asking.” Wyn laughed. “As if I would be stupid enough to eavesdrop on your father. He would have had my head.”

“
True.” Gwen patted Wyn on the shoulder. “Thank you for your help.”

“
You’re welcome.” Wyn took the lantern and hung it back on its hook. But then stopped Gwen before she could leave the stable. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but none of us here are sorry that your father killed Collen. It makes him a bit of a hero, actually.”

“
It does?” Gwen froze in the doorway and turned back to Wyn. “How is that?”

“
Collen whipped his horse over much,” Wyn said. To a stable lad, that was a crime worthy of severe punishment. “I’m surprised Ifan didn’t mention it.”