The Good Knight (A Gareth and Gwen Medieval Mystery)

her.
    “Is there anything in his clothing or on his person that can help us?” Hywel said.
    “Only a ring.” Gwen held it up. “By the way, there’s something else you should note on the body: the left edge of the wound is a bit uneven. The knife caught at the skin instead of sliding neatly through.”
    Hywel gazed down at the body. “You’re saying …”
    “The blade isn’t smooth. It has a notch along one edge,” she said. “Either it was poorly made or very old. Either way, the metal has been worn down—enough to sustain damage.”
    Hywel narrowed his eyes at her. “You’ve seen too many murdered men, I think.”
    Gwen laughed. “It was Gareth who pointed it out, but I’d learned it already from killing a few too many chickens.”
    “Lord Ednyfed of Powys told me you solved the murder of Llywelyn ap Rhys.”
    Gwen sighed, remembering. “And that poor boy Rhodri hanged for it. I almost wish I hadn’t.”
    “Rhodri killed a man.”
    “I know,” Gwen said.
    Rhodri had been poaching on his lord’s land—not a terrible offense, or at least not a hanging one—but he’d shot another man thinking him a deer. It was his bad luck that the river near which he’d buried the body had flooded three days later and exposed his crime.
    “—and worse, tried to cover it up,” Hywel said.
    “And it’s for that they hanged him. Men kill other men for every reason under the sun, but when it’s an accident—”
    “My lord!”
    Gwen and Hywel turned to see Evan poke his nose between the door and the frame.
    “What is it, Evan,” Hywel said. “I asked not to be disturbed.”
    “Prince Cadell—” Evan stopped, cleared his throat, and continued, “King Cadell of Deheubarth, Anarawd’s brother, has arrived.”
    Hywel met Gwen’s eyes. “Has he?” Hywel surveyed the body. “Come, Gwen. We’ll leave Anarawd for now. You can meet your latest suspect.”
    Gwen couldn’t tell if he was serious, or only teasing her. “He inherits Deheubarth?”
    “He does,” Hywel said.
    “Why wasn’t he riding in Anarawd’s company?”
    “That, I couldn’t tell you,” Hywel said.
    “Cadell is another with strong Irish connections,” Gwen said. “His father fled to Ireland when the Normans took Deheubarth forty years ago.”
    “As did my own grandfather.” Hywel glanced at her, a wry smile on his lips. “I’m sure you haven’t forgotten that my entire family is descended from the Dublin Danes and Brian Boru, the High King of Ireland.”
    Gwen bit her lip. This put how many names on her list of potential traitors? She followed Hywel out the door and back to the courtyard, where the as-yet-uncrowned King Cadell was dismounting from his horse, accompanied by his own company of men, at least a dozen by her count.
    “Welcome to Aber.” Hywel walked up to Cadell, who looked a bit like Hywel himself, but shorter and slighter. Here was another second son who found himself possessed of a kingdom on no notice at all.
    “Thank you, Prince Hywel.” Cadell bowed. “It is my great pleasure to see you again. Bards still sing of your exploits in Deheubarth in the last war.”
    Hywel blinked. “Thank you.”
    “Has my brother arrived?” Cadell peered past Hywel to the keep. It looked like he expected Anarawd to appear on the steps at any moment.
    Hywel cleared his throat. “In a manner of speaking.” He glanced once at Gwen as he took Cadell’s elbow. “I would have you speak to my father.” Everyone in the courtyard bit their tongues as Hywel steered Cadell towards the side entrance rather than into the great hall.
    Evan came to a halt beside Gwen. “Who did kill King Anarawd?”
    Gwen shook her head. “I wish I knew.”

Chapter Ten

    G areth woke with his head in a bucket, heaving up his insides. “I’m fine! I’m fine!” he said, lying boldly. He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here. He’d eaten his noon meal, and then …
    He pushed at the hand that held his head, forcing down a final heave that belied his words.
    “You’re not fine,” Hywel said. “But you’re alive, which is the important thing.”
    Gareth shivered and his hands shook as he wrapped his arms around his middle, trying to stem the contractions roiling his stomach.
    Hywel had been the one holding his head and now bent to look into his face. “Are you ready to lie down?”
    Gareth nodded and allowed Hywel to ease him to the ground. Gareth pillowed his head with one arm. “I feel so terrible.”
    “You ate