The Good Knight (A Gareth and Gwen Medieval Mystery)

You lied to me now. You are not his lover and you don’t carry his child.” He peered at her. “You don’t carry any child. That you’ve been sick from the voyage gives cover to your lie.”
    “I never lied,” Gwen said. “I never said anything to Cadwaladr about this at all. I just didn’t deny what he so firmly believed. Besides, he stole me from Aber and once he’d done that, he would have killed me if he knew the truth.”
    Godfrid folded his arms across his chest, still looking satisfied. “You survived.”
    Gwen straightened in her seat, relieved that he wasn’t angry. “I did.”
    “And what about everything else?” he said. “Is that untrue also? What do you do in Wales when you are not captured by princes?”
    “I am a bard’s daughter,” Gwen said. “I told you the truth about that. And I may not be Hywel’s lover, but I do know him well. My father was his tutor and we are of an age.” She smiled. “We learned our Latin together.”
    “So that is why he came for you,” Godfrid said.
    Gwen tipped her head to acknowledge the possible truth in his words. “Perhaps. But while I may not be his lover, I am his spy.”
    Godfrid gazed at her for a count of five, and then he threw back his head and laughed. The sound echoed throughout the hall. Several of the other diners looked at him, but then turned away, smiling themselves. They were probably used to his laughter.
    “Now that you tell me, I find I am not surprised,” Godfrid said, sobering. “There’s a story here you must tell me someday.”
    “Someday.” Gwen paused, and then dared ask, “When did you first suspect that something was wrong with Cadwaladr’s assumptions?”
    “On the battlements at Aberffraw, I noted your shock when Cadwaladr told Prince Hywel you carried his child,” Godfrid said. “Hywel himself couldn’t hide his surprise, but I assumed that your reaction and his was a response to Cadwaladr’s unveiling, not that it wasn’t true. Later, I thought back to the scene and realized that you were as surprised as Hywel. And also that you were not attached to him in that way.”
    “We were that obvious?” Gwen said. “I need to work on my lying.”
    “Oh no, you don’t.” Godfrid barked a laugh again, but turned serious almost instantly. “Remember, I don’t speak your language as well as I would like. I’ve learned to watch your faces.”
    “Does anyone else know, do you think?” Gwen said.
    “Not Cadwaladr anyway.”
    “That’s a relief,” Gwen said. “What will you do now? Will you tell your father or Ottar? The longer I stay here the more obvious it will become that all is not as Cadwaladr believes.”
    Godfrid tapped a finger on his upper lip. “I will not reveal your secret. It pleases me to keep it.” He paused. “But I don’t see how Cadwaladr could not learn of it eventually. He has spies everywhere too.”
    “I will pretend as long as I can,” Gwen said.
    “Cadwaladr thinks only of himself,” Godfrid said. “That makes him dangerous. He will become even more so if he learns of the deception.”
    “I can’t avoid his company,” Gwen said. “I am a prisoner here—whether yours or his—does it really matter?”
    Godfrid pushed back from the table, preparing to stand. “I am offended.”
    Gwen bit her lip. She closed her eyes, marshalling her thoughts. “I need to go home,” she said, even as she gagged at the idea of the voyage across the sea and what it would do to her. “You need to let me go home.”
    “I would let you,” he said. “But I have no plans to return to Wales. It may be that you will have to wait for Cadwaladr.”
    Gwen rubbed her face with both hands, repulsed by the idea but with no counter to it. “If I must, I must.”
    “What if I said you did not have to?” Godfrid put his hands flat on the table and leaned his weight on them. “What if I set you free, but then you stayed in Dublin. With me.”
    Gwen dropped her hands. Godfrid was looking at her as if she was the only person in the room. When she didn’t answer, he touched her chin with one finger. “Think on it.”
    He straightened, the reckless grin again on his lips and his eyes alight. Stunned, she watched him greet several men on his way down the central aisle. Then, with only one look back and an insouciant wave, so reminiscent of Hywel, he was gone.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

    “ G areth will take care of you,” Alice said to the handful of boy in Gareth’s arms, surprising Gareth