The Good Knight (A Gareth and Gwen Medieval Mystery)

would have to agree,” Hywel said. “Although you have to admit that she could have left on her own, without telling anyone.”
    “Gwen wouldn’t—” Gareth stopped. He and Hywel studied each other and Gareth guessed Hywel’s thoughts mirrored his: She wouldn’t leave Aber without telling me, would she?
    Hywel nodded. “We are in agreement that she could have left without telling one of us—even both of us—but I don’t believe she would have left her family overnight without their knowledge.”
    Gareth eased back against the wall, mirroring Hywel. “She cares too much about Gwalchmai to want him to worry. She might have lied, but she would have told him something.”
    “And she did not.” Hywel stepped to the open doorway, looked through it, and motioned to someone beyond that Gareth couldn’t see.
    “Yes, sir?” Evan .
    “We’re done here.” Hywel held out his hand for the key.
    With a wary expression on his face, Evan handed it to Hywel, who pulled the door shut behind him, locked it, and handed it back. He strode away. Gareth poked his nose through the small window in the door.
    “You’re not the only one who’s angry, Gareth,” Evan said, his voice low. “Your friends are with you. You’ve done no more than your duty, as we all have.”
    “I know that,” Gareth said. “I don’t blame you. I’ve been as much blindsided by these events as anyone.”
    Evan stepped closer so their faces were a foot apart, albeit separated by the door. “That’s the problem isn’t it? Nobody could have foreseen Gwen’s abduction.” He gestured helplessly. “Nobody but the killer.”
    Gareth nodded to appease his friend, even though Gareth knew the truth was far more complicated than that. It wasn’t as if he’d forgotten that someone could hurt Gwen. He hadn’t considered it at all, which made the whole situation far worse. It was one thing for the killer to attack Gareth—to poison him—it was quite another for him to abduct her. And for Gwen herself … Gareth’s mind shied away from what might be happening to her.
    “King Owain’s anger has lost its fire,” Evan said. “He’s gone cold—cold even to Cristina.”
    “You think that’s better?” Gareth said with a laugh. “It doesn’t sound like it.”
    Even snorted. “To my mind, the King is much more manageable when he’s hot. Frozen as he is, he’s likely to hang you at dawn because he can.”
    Gareth stared at Evan, waiting for his assurance that Hywel wouldn’t let that happen. It didn’t come. Instead, Evan said, “If I find Gwen, I’ll let you know.”
    “Thank you,” Gareth said.
    Let me out of here!
    Unconsciously, Gareth’s hands fisted and his body coiled to launch himself at Evan’s throat. He would have, too, if the window hadn’t been too small to admit him. Evan gave no sign that he’d read Gareth’s thoughts. He shrugged, turned away, and settled onto a stool beside the door with his arms folded across his chest and his legs stretched out in front of him.
    Gradually, the noise from the courtyard died down and the castle quieted. Horses shifted in their stalls, easing into more comfortable stances for sleep. One whickered. Then nothing. Gareth leaned against the far wall of his cell, watching the play of light and shadow coming through the crack he’d made in the side wall. He was studying the damaged board, contemplating kicking all the way through it and taking his chances in the courtyard, when Hywel came back.
    Praise be to God!
    “Come,” Hywel said, as if he’d been gone only a moment instead of hours. He unlocked the door and pushed it open. “My men have Braith and extra provisions for you.” He held out a cloak to Gareth who took it and swung it around his shoulders.
    “Do you have my sword?”
    “Here.” Hywel handed it to him.
    Without haste, though his hands trembled, Gareth buckled the belt around his waist and loosened the sword in its sheath. Hywel hadn’t brought his knives, but Gareth wasn’t going to test his luck by asking for them. He could overlook their absence as the price to pay for freedom. Silently, Gareth followed Hywel from the stables. He didn’t ask why or wherefore, just accepted that Hywel had made a move in his so-called game.
    Nobody guarded the postern gate, which told Gareth that Hywel had used his considerable influence to arrange things the way he wanted them. The door didn’t even creak when Hywel opened it. They filed silently through it, walked