The Good Knight (A Gareth and Gwen Medieval Mystery)

as a son,” Cadell said. “If Cadwaladr could do it to Anarawd, he could do it to anyone. Any of you.”
    This discussion was making Gareth impatient and he stirred beside Hywel, thinking to speak. Maelgwyn cleared his throat, as if to say something more as well, but Hywel gave neither of them the chance.
    “Get your men ready,” he said. “The time for action is now. I will accept the surrender of the garrison, should they choose to surrender, but I will not back down.” And then he paused to look into the face of each man in turn. “It is not I who orders this, but my father.”
    Maelgwyn straightened his shoulders, seemingly putting aside his doubts. “Yes, my lord.”
    “If there are Danes in that fort, my lord,” said Alun, who’d come as Prince Rhun’s representative, “they will have already left by the postern gate. We should have sent men to the beach to stop them.”
    “Alice did have Danes among her men,” Gareth said, “though that they were Danes didn’t register until just now. Alun is right.”
    “I saw them too,” Hywel said. “I deliberately let them go.”
    “Why is that?” Color rose in Cadell’s cheeks. “They are bloodthirsty killers; they’ll go back to Ireland, get reinforcements, and continue to plague our shores.”
    “The only good Dane is a dead one,” Maelgwyn said.
    “That’s what the English say about the Welsh.” Hywel’s eyes narrowed. “You may recall that I have Danish blood, Maelgwyn.”
    Maelgwyn paled. “Yes, my lord.” This wasn’t turning out to be a good day for him.
    “We cannot kill every Dane in Ireland,” Hywel said, his voice full of patience. “I am letting them go because I want to encourage Cadwaladr’s return to Wales. The sooner my father confronts him in person, the better. The Danes will tell Cadwaladr that I’ve taken Aberystwyth. It will anger him.”
    “I don’t understand—”
    Hywel cut Maelgwyn off. “Obviously. This move is part of a greater whole, which I hadn’t realized I had to explain to you. My father wants his brother back in Wales, under his control, not inciting animosity and wreaking havoc among our Danish allies. If I let these Danes go, they’ll tell my uncle what has happened here at home. He won’t be able to resist doing something about it.”
    A few of the men nodded.
    “Regardless,” Hywel said. “As Alun pointed out, they’ve probably already gone and there’s nothing we can do about it. I don’t care if the entire garrison of Cadwaladr’s Welsh men-at-arms departs and disperses, though I would rather deliver them to my father as we did the men from Aberffraw. But if we spare all of them and yet take the castle, my father will consider this endeavor a victory. We will send a message to Cadwaladr that he must pay for his actions. I want that castle!” He punctuated this last sentence with a fist into his palm.
    “Besides,” Gareth said as the men dispersed to their appointed tasks, even Maelgwyn, “Cadwaladr still has Gwen and I want her back. If he doesn’t bring her home, I may never see her again.”
    “I haven’t forgotten Gwen, Gareth,” Hywel said.
    Gareth bit his tongue, holding back the words he wanted to say. As with the villagers whose deaths Cadwaladr had ordered—at the hands of his own men—the loss of Gwen was not a matter that King Owain could allow to trouble him. If pressed, he might say that it was an unfortunate happenstance, but to wager a kingdom on one girl? No, Gwen’s well-being was Gareth’s responsibility. And so far, he hadn’t done his job in seeing to it.
    For now, however, his duty to his lord forced Gareth to push the thought of Gwen, along with the image of her wearing a slave collar around her throat, to the back of his mind where it had sat and festered all this last week. That her captors thought she was pregnant with Hywel’s child was a life-saving grace, but how long could that last before they discovered it was a lie? And what would happen to her when they did?
    Despite their blood-curdling reputation, Danes were no different from any other men—which was both good and bad. They were, in fact, no more or less cruel than the men who surrounded him now, but they were also men, and despite the fact that she often seemed to care little for her appearance or what men thought of her, in Gareth’s opinion, she was lovely. And he wasn’t the only one who thought so.
    As Goronwy’s answer was the same as before, over the next hour, Hywel