The Good Knight (A Gareth and Gwen Medieval Mystery)

at sea—and might be enduring now. He forced his mind away, finding the thought of her among the Danes without a protector unbearable.
    King Owain stepped off the dais. “I want my teulu assembled and ready to ride to Abermenai within the hour.” He spun on his heel to look at his steward, Taran, a man who’d also served Owain’s father. “When does the tide turn?”
    “Noon today,” Taran said. “We must hurry if we want to cross the sands before then.”
    King Owain swung back to the crowd of men before him. “You heard him! Move! We will provision ourselves at Aberffraw.” Then King Owain put out a hand to Godfrid. “Thank you for your warning. If we hurry—and our luck continues—we can beat them to the shore. Your crossing was quicker than I’ve ever heard a ship—even a Danish one—make the journey.”
    “Prince Godfrid kept the sail up,” Gareth said, unable to keep the glint of amusement out of his eye that perhaps only Hywel and Godfrid caught. “About killed us.”
    King Owain strode to the door of the hall and looked out. A light breeze blew and the sun was halfway up in the beautifully clear sky. “If they survived, they should have clear sailing for the rest of the day. Would they still make for Abermenai, even if they were blown off course and lost time?”
    “I don’t know.” Godfrid came to stand beside the king. “I expect so, provided most of the ships survived the crossing.”
    “Anglesey is familiar territory to Cadwaladr,” Hywel said, “more so than Ceredigion. Home, if you will.”
    “He’ll come, then,” King Owain said. “We’ll have to risk it.” He directed his attention to Godfrid again. “Thank you for your warning, but what of you? Shall you remain with us, or maintain a façade for King Ottar that you support him? It isn’t too late to rejoin your fleet.”
    Godfrid studied his men, all of whom stared back at him impassively. He waved his hand and they broke ranks to huddle around him, speaking rapidly in Danish. Gareth, meanwhile, left the hall at a run to saddle Braith, though not before embracing Evan who stopped him in the middle of the courtyard. He’d been among the men who’d come to the shore with Hywel, but Gareth hadn’t had the opportunity to greet him before this.
    “I never thought to see you again,” Evan said. “I assumed they’d toss you into the water when you were halfway out to sea.”
    “Truly?” Gareth said. “You thought I couldn’t survive a trip to Dublin?” When Evan just smiled, Gareth added, “Besides, Brodar gave me his word. As odd as it sounds, a Dane has honor. It’s just that sometimes that means something different to him than it does to us.”
    Evan clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll never doubt you again.”
    Reunited with a saddled and nominally provisioned Braith, Gareth rode out of the castle with forty men before an hour had passed. They had so few because Hywel had left many in Ceredigion to clean up after Cadwaladr and maintain a presence there for a time. King Owain had given the rest leave to visit their homes, thinking Cadwaladr wouldn’t return so quickly, even though Hywel had counseled against it.
    Godfrid and his men trotted quickly behind them, making for Aber beach where they’d left their boat. Godfrid had decided that open warfare was not in his best interest, not yet. He would return to his fleet, circling far around Anglesey instead of sailing down the Menai Straits, so as to disguise the true direction from which he was coming.
    “I should be returning with you,” Gareth said.
    Godfrid shook his head vigorously. “You are a warrior. If it comes to battle, your life would be forfeit. You will do better with your own people.”
    Gareth ground his teeth, but had to give way before the determined Dane. “Please tell Gwen that I love her. Tell her it was better not to come myself this time.”
    “I will tell everyone but her that you drowned in the night; that you were a foolish sailor. You stood up when you shouldn’t have and we lost you overboard.”
    Gareth laughed despite himself, and waved the Danish prince—and unexpected friend—away. He had a feeling they would meet again before this was over.

Chapter Thirty-Two

    G wen moaned. She lay as she’d been thrown by the storm. The morning after the storm had brought sunshine with it and Gwen had fallen asleep at last, her cloak over her face to protect it from the sun.
    Gradually, Gwen came more awake. The boat wasn’t