The Good Knight (A Gareth and Gwen Medieval Mystery)

even make it out of the stables and through the postern gate before anyone was the wiser. But he didn’t. Instead, Gareth took Hywel’s words as a vote of confidence and as indication that at least Hywel didn’t believe in his guilt.
    “It would set your father further against me, wouldn’t it?” Gareth said.
    “Likely,” Hywel said.
    “Except I don’t even know what I’m supposed to have done.” Gareth felt like punching the wall again. “Is he accusing me of betraying you? Of being in the pay of another master? Does he think I helped kill King Anarawd and two dozen of his guardsmen?”
    “I expect he isn’t accusing you of anything but being in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Hywel said. “But he’ll hang you for it anyway if we can’t find the true culprit.”
    “ Christ !” Gareth swung around to kick at a bucket in the corner. It had an inch of stale water in it which he wouldn’t have drunk anyway. God knew what they kept in this room when they weren’t using it as a prison cell. He hoped few men had the pleasure of it before him, though his friends had known without discussion where to take him when they’d hauled him away from King Owain.
    “At least we’re not at Dolbadarn—they’ve dungeons there,” Hywel said.
    “I should thank him for that small favor, should I?”
    Hywel smiled. “I’m sure my father will see to addressing that lack when he rebuilds the hall in stone. In the meantime, you’re safe enough here.”
    “I’m a pig in a pen, waiting for slaughter,” Gareth said.
    Hywel canted his head as he studied Gareth. “Use your anger and frustration to concentrate your mind on what might really have happened. Though they were all abed when you arrived, the barons have gathered at Aber. They came for the wedding, which won’t happen now, but they’ll meet in council anyway as my father intended. If any one of them is guilty of this treachery, they’ll think themselves safer for your confinement. We might catch someone off guard.”
    “Tell that to your father,” Gareth said.
    “I won’t need to,” Hywel said. “By morning he’ll think of it himself, even if he won’t admit it. We can, however, take advantage of his hasty action.”
    “By leaving me in this cage?” Gareth said, not any happier with this idea, even if it was a good one. “I would be more useful on the outside!”
    “We’ll see.” Hywel smirked at Gareth’s outraged expression, and then added, “You’re a bit easier to control in here.” He held up an iron key. “I will lock the door because my father expects it, not because I don’t trust you.”
    Gareth managed to tamp down his temper enough to tip his head at Hywel who, still smirking, closed the door behind him. Personally, Gareth thought Hywel was putting a bit too much faith in his father’s good sense, which Gareth couldn’t quite discern from where he stood. He thought it much more likely that King Owain would hang him, if only to make himself feel better and put some kind of conclusion on this affair—especially if he never found out who’d really ordered King Anarawd’s death.
    Gareth hadn’t managed more than a few more paces around the cell, stewing in his anger and resentment, when a new knock came and then the sound of a key turning in the lock. He strode towards the door, furious that Hywel had come back to mock him some more, but then came to an abrupt halt a foot from the door as it opened. Gwen stood before him with a platter of steaming broth and a jug of mead.
    “I bribed the cook with my recipe for spiced scones,” she said.
    Gareth warred with himself, as she was the last person he wanted to see him so powerless, but the smell of the soup made his stomach growl and he chose not to fight her—or to sulk. “Come in.” He bowed low, one arm out like a courtier welcoming her to his home instead of a room lined with dirty straw.
    “Hywel made me promise not to free you.”
    “I gave him my word that I’d stay.” Gareth said. “He has some idea that if I’m confined, it will embolden the real villain. Give him confidence that nobody suspects him, which of course we don’t since we have no idea who did this.” The thought made Gareth want to kick something again, but he didn’t. He took in a deep breath and let it out, getting hold of his temper.
    Gwen handed him the tray of food. As he reached for it, he was surprised to see her eyes tearing. “I was that worried. King Owain was so