The Good Knight (A Gareth and Gwen Medieval Mystery)

you think?” Gwen said, glad they could talk about something else, even if it was murder.
    “More than enough to surprise Anarawd’s troop,” Gareth said. “Anarawd and his men stood little chance, taken unawares as it appears they were.” He eyed the road and the woods beyond. “The attackers waited here—probably here and in the trees opposite—for Anarawd’s company to ride past. King Anarawd and his men would have been unconcerned and unsuspecting of danger. They were well within the confines of King Owain’s territory and only an hour out of Dolwyddelan. They’d gone—what?— four miles at most?”
    “Something like that.” Gwen and her family had ridden that distance at a walk, which was all the horse who drew the cart could manage most days. They’d left two hours after Anarawd and his men. That meant the ambush had occurred at least two hours before this moment and more likely three, which made sense since the bodies were still warm, but stiff. Unmolested, the company would have nearly reached Aber by now. Gwen pursed her lips as she studied the footprints. “You knew what to look for,” she said. “You’ve seen this type of thing before?”
    “Ambushes are the easiest way to eliminate a rival,” Gareth said. “And like yours, my tenure with Hywel has been—” Gareth paused to glance up at Gwen, an actual smile hovering around his lips as he sought for the proper word, “—irregular.”
    “My father told me that you’d hired yourself out to the highest bidder,” Gwen said. At the renewal of Gareth’s uncanny stillness, she kicked herself for not keeping that question to herself, but she had to know. “You fought as a mercenary.”
    Gareth took in a breath that was almost a curse. Throughout their conversation, Gwen had found it difficult to look into his face because she was afraid of what she might see there, but now it was impossible. She scuffled at the fallen leaves and dirt that made up the floor of the forest. No glint of metal or other indication of men appeared, other than their trampling footprints.
    “That’s true as far as it goes,” he said. “When I left Prince Cadwaladr’s service, I had nowhere to go. I was skilled with a sword and such men are always needed in Wales, with the Vikings, the Irish, and the ever-present English hemming us in on every side.”
    “I wasn’t criticizing you.” Gwen’s voice went soft. “Just asking. How long have you worked for Hywel?”
    “Almost four years,” he said. “Despite what your father might think, I’m good at what I do and those for whom I fought recognized it. Hywel was one of several lords who offered me a permanent place in their teulu .”
    “You wear a fine ring,” Gwen said.
    “A gift.” Gareth fisted the hand that wore it. “It was given to me along with my horse when I joined Hywel’s band. Prince Hywel’s brother, Rhun, knighted me six months ago after a skirmish with the Normans near Chester.”
    Six months. He’s been a knight for six months, and yet … Gwen shook herself and held her tongue. Five years was a long time to carry the memory of someone in your heart—someone you’d not seen and had no reason to think still loved you. It wasn’t surprising that he’d not bothered to find her.
    The sharp twang of an untuned note carried through the heavy air. With his legs swinging nearly to the ground, Meilyr sat in the bed of the cart, holding a lyre. He could always find comfort with an instrument in his hands.
    “I would have brought more bowmen than the attackers did.” Gareth turned back to their task. “I find it odd they had so few. It seems shortsighted to me. It makes the success of an ambush less certain.”
    “Maybe none of the men our murderer trusted were archers,” Gwen said.
    “Yet he found enough men to do his dirty work,” Gareth said. “That sounds like a man with noble blood—with power and reach.”
    “It doesn’t sound very noble to me,” Gwen said.
    “You and I both know that many ignoble men inspire fierce loyalty in those who serve them,” Gareth said.
    “Or fear.”
    “Or the lord who ordered this made promises his men thought he could keep. Damn it.” Gareth spun on one heel to look back to the road. “We need answers now . Owain Gwynedd won’t want to wait until some lord’s men are curiously richer or rewarded more than their due. We will be bringing King Anarawd’s body to him at Aber today .”
    Gwen’s heart turned cold at the memory of