Chapter Twenty-Three
The companions trotted through the woods to the spot to which Hywel had retreated, still under the cover of the trees, some hundred yards from the castle gate. A good archer was easily accurate at that distance, which was why Owain Gwynedd had cleared the trees around the castle to that extent. The sea air and wind had kept stunted the plants that tried to grow back.
As Gareth and Rhun rode up to him, Hywel acknowledged them with a nod. “Stay in the woods at first. If I show either of you to Cadwaladr, he’ll realize the game is up. I can’t decide if I want that or not.”
“Whatever we do, we can’t play the same game Cadwaladr is playing,” Gareth said. “He will set a trap for us. We must avoid it.”
“No doubt.” Hywel turned his head, studying Aberffraw’s façade. “He doesn’t know my father well if he thinks he’ll let the murder of Anarawd and his men pass.”
“We still don’t know if we can lay that at his door,” Rhun said. “He has taken Gwen. That is all we know.”
“Then we must force him to admit it,” Hywel said. “He has something up his sleeve, something that worries me. Taking Gwen is far too confident a move for a man who has plotted against the King of Gwynedd, even if he and my father are brothers.”
“What he has, brother,” Rhun said, “are three dozen Danes in the fort with him. Their boats lie on the beach, guarded by six more.”
Hywel turned his attention to Rhun, his face expressionless, but then his eyes twinkled and a smile hovered around his lips. “So that’s it. Cadwaladr has mortgaged all of Ceredigion on this venture. We’ll have to make it so he can’t pay.”
Gareth took in a deep breath, glad that Hywel saw the presence of the Danes as positive news. He couldn’t agree. “If we show Cadwaladr our numbers, which he may have already guessed, he’ll know that King Owain hasn’t sent an army just yet. Nor had the time to put one together on the off-chance Cadwaladr came to Aberffraw.”
“Let him know we want to see Gwen and we just want her back,” Rhun said.
“She’s a bargaining chip,” Hywel said. “He’ll use her as a hostage to gain safe passage to the boats on the beach.”
“Are you going to allow that?” Gareth said.
“I want Gwen back too,” Hywel said. “If we let Cadwaladr go now, we can deal with him later on our terms. Or my father can. Ceredigion is not so far from Gwynedd that we can’t pen him in there. And if Cadell learns of his treachery, that he was behind Anarawd’s murder, Cadwaladr will have nowhere to turn.”
“Unless Cadell conspired with Cadwaladr,” Gareth said.
Rhun’s eyes widened at the idea, but Hywel laughed. “With the plot discovered, do you think Cadell would admit to it? No, he’ll stand with my father in that event.”
While Gareth and Rhun watched from the trees, the remaining five men mounted their horses and urged them to a spot fifty paces from the front gate. That they were on horseback would give them the opportunity to flee if Cadwaladr ordered his men to shoot. For all Cadwaladr’s perfidy so far, Hywel assumed it wouldn’t come to that.
After some shouting and a short wait, Cadwaladr appeared above the gatehouse, resting an arm along the top of the wall. “Hello, nephew. You asked to speak with me on some matter?”
Gareth had no trouble hearing the exchange, even from a distance.
“I would like you to return Gwen ferch Meilyr to me,” Hywel said.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Cadwaladr said.
“And why is that?”
“I took her from Aber to keep her safe from the man who murdered Anarawd.” Cadwaladr said. “When Gareth hangs, I will release her.”
Gareth’s mouth twisted at Cadwaladr’s confidence, and the smile that accompanied his words sent chills down Gareth’s spine. “Did I hear that right? He actually said that he took Gwen to protect her?”
“It’s a reason that could be believed, if we didn’t know more than he thinks we do,” Rhun said.
Hywel was unmoved. “I can’t leave—I will not—until I have Gwen beside me.”
“I’m afraid I can’t give her up to you,” Cadwaladr said. “It’s too dangerous for her.”
“Let me be the judge of that,” Hywel said.
Cadwaladr gave an exaggerated sigh. “The perils of youth. So tragic—”
“Uncle—” Hywel said, his tone warning.
Cadwaladr straightened. “Are these all of your men?” He gestured casually with one hand. “You brought so few.”
“Not all,” Hywel said. “What of the Aberffraw garrison?”
At Hywel’s words, Gareth’s eyes snapped to the top of the wall. Hywel had noticed what he had not—that everyone along the top of the wall belonged to Cadwaladr in some fashion, rather than men who’d sworn allegiance to King Owain.
Cadwaladr shrugged. “No harm has come to them. Has my brother hanged the traitor yet?”
“Not yet.” Hywel canted his head to one side, as if curious, and tried again. “Give Gwen back to me, Uncle. She doesn’t need to stay here to be safe. I can protect her.”
“I don’t agree,” Cadwaladr said.
“Why do you care for her so?”
“Ah.” Cadwaladr smiled. “It is not I who cares for her, but you.”
“So you didn’t take her to protect her from Gareth, but to hurt me?” Hywel said. “How can that be?”
Silence.
Gareth nodded, recognizing that Cadwaladr had said something he shouldn’t have and was now uncertain as to how to continue. Hywel studied his uncle, letting him think for another few heartbeats, but it was Rhun who spoke next. He walked his horse forward, out from under the trees. Cadwaladr’s eyes widened at the sight of him. He had to know that Rhun’s presence was not a good sign for him.
“My father knows now that you ordered the death of King Anarawd,” Rhun said, showing an aptitude for bluffing for which Gareth wouldn’t have given him credit. “That you refuse to give up Gwen only deepens your predicament, not aids it. Release her and give the Danes with whom you are in league leave to return to their boats. If you do these things, now, without hesitation, I will speak to my father on your behalf.”
“I did not kill Anarawd,” Cadwaladr said.
“Nobody said you killed him, but you paid mercenaries from Ireland to do the job for you.” Hywel tipped his chin towards the men on either side of Cadwaladr. “Danes such as these. We have enough evidence to convict you with what has happened here, but were we to cage you at Aberffraw while Rhun and I traveled to your seat in Ceredigion, do you think I wouldn’t find more?”
“And yet you come here with only six men,” Cadwaladr said, the sneer back in place. “You’re still guessing at the truth.”
“I’m not.” Hywel waved a hand in Gareth’s direction, indicating that he should join them.
Marveling at the case Hywel had built out of nothing, Gareth obeyed, urging Braith forward. He came into view, and Cadwaladr paled. “You! But—”
“I have not been hanged, as you can see,” Gareth said, closing the door on the trap Hywel had set. “Nor will I be. I am free and in the company of King Owain’s sons. You cannot hide the truth from us any longer, Cadwaladr.”
But that impertinence, coming from someone he’d dismissed for disobedience and reviled in the years afterwards, was too much for Cadwaladr. The prince cursed, shook his fist once at Hywel, and shoved his way past his men on the walkway. He raced away along the balustrade to where it connected to the upper floor of the hall.
“Uh oh.” That was Evan.
“Damn,” Hywel said. “What now?”
“We need another plan, brother,” Rhun said. “And quick.”