The Good Knight (A Gareth and Gwen Medieval Mystery)

say that!” Gwen said.
    “We’re all waiting for it.”
    “Even if we’re dreading it,” Gwen said.
    Their feet echoed in the hall, thudding hollowly on the wood of the floor as they made their way among the mostly empty tables. Hywel came to a halt in front of his father, with Gwen and Gareth a pace behind him to his left and right. “Sir. I bring bad news,” Hywel said.
    King Owain studied his son, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth, despite his earlier annoyance. “Let’s hear it, then.”
    Gwen had the sense that they were playing out an oft-repeated scene—as if Hywel had often brought King Owain bad news, and this was the least painful way to relay it.
    Hywel took a deep breath and let it out, still hesitating. His father leaned forward, perhaps realizing that this news was going to be worse than usual. “Anarawd and his men were ambushed on the road from Dolwyddelan by a company of Danes,” Hywel said. “King Anarawd is dead.”
    King Owain surged to his feet, knocking back his chair, even Cristina forgotten. “How do you know this?”
    “My man found him.” Hywel gestured to Gareth who stepped forward and bowed.
    “Tell me,” King Owain said.
    Gareth bowed again, and then related how he’d observed the start of the battle and returned with reinforcements to find King Anarawd and his men dead. He touched on the presence of Gwen and her family but didn’t emphasize it, and then described the second ambush. “The wounded are being cared for at Caerhun, my lord.”
    King Owain gazed at Gareth, then looked past him to the few other knights and men-at-arms who’d gathered to hear the tale. “Arrest him.” He pointed at Gareth with his chin.
    “What?” Gwen stepped forward. “You can’t—” She cut herself off as Hywel grabbed her arm.
    “Hush,” he said, and then turned to the King. “Father, this is—” and then he broke off himself as three men surrounded Gareth and pinioned his arms behind his back.
    “What are you doing?” Gareth cast a pleading glance at Hywel, looking for help. “I had nothing to do with this! I found them.”
    “Did you not leave King Anarawd to die?” King Owain said, his face suffused with red and his voice thundering. “Are you not experienced in the use of a sword?”
    “Yes, but—”
    “I’ve tolerated your presence up until now because my sons trust you, but I heard about you from my brother,” King Owain said. “The truth will out more easily from a cell.” He waved a hand. “Take him.”
    Gareth’s jaw bulged. Gwen thought he was going to dig in his heels when his shoulders tensed, but then his eyes met Hywel’s. Gareth must have read something there that convinced him to back down, because he allowed the guards to turn him, his legs moving stiffly, and lead him away. He didn’t look again at Gwen.
    “Father.” Hywel faced King Owain, his voice back to reasonable. “Gareth had nothing to do with this. He hasn’t the money to pay—”
    But King Owain was still on fire. “I never said he paid for it! But he could have been bought and paid for! That I will believe!”
    “Father—” Hywel tried again.
    “You have something to say?” His voice thundered throughout the hall. “You question my orders?”
    Hywel took a step back. “No, Father.” He ducked his head. “But I will discover the truth. Gareth has served both you and me well. He is not at fault here.”
    King Owain wasn’t listening. He turned and kicked the fallen chair out of his way. It skittered across the floor. Owain Gwynedd paced towards the fireplace and then back. “Who bought him? Who seeks to strike me in the heart, in my own lands?”
    By now, Gwen had slipped away, fading into the background as much as she could, with her back against the wall out of reach of the firelight. It was clear that calling any kind of attention to herself would be a major mistake. King Owain, however, had not forgotten her and after haranguing Hywel Hywel a while longer, he spun towards her. “You tell me your father comes too! Was he injured in this fight?”
    “No, sir,” she said. “Both he and my brother are safe at Caerhun.”
    “I am besieged on every side.” King Owain returned to his pacing.
    “Whoever killed Anarawd has enough money and power to buy a troop of men—from Ireland no less—and point them in whatever direction he chose,” Hywel said. “Either that, or this is an attack from Ireland itself.”
    “Don’t tell me what I already