The Faithless Fool Read online

  So he almost laughed when it wasn’t Prince Henry who reacted badly but James Carr. The Scottish nobleman had said very little up until now, perhaps uncharacteristically if Hamelin’s assessment was correct. Now he drew himself up to his full height. “Who are you to make such a suggestion?”

  Gareth had no interest in defending himself, and it was hardly the first time a stranger had questioned his right to investigate a body. He was opening his mouth merely to say his name again when King David intervened and said it for him: “As I said earlier, this is Lord Gareth. From Gwynedd.” His tone was very dry. “He is the great Welsh investigator, here at my request. We are lucky to have him.”

  Lord James settled back a bit on his heels, his jaw still tight and indicating he wanted to argue but knowing there was no possibility of doing so.

  Gareth merely canted his head at the king, accepting the accolade—not so much as if it were his due, but because he could no more argue with the king than James could. For another few heartbeats James continued to look fierce, but then he subsided entirely and turned to face Gareth instead of the king. “Even so, I am happy to be of service, as always, in any way I can.”

  “That is a generous offer, and I am grateful,” Gareth said, working on his diplomacy again.

  “What Lord Gareth means to say is that he could use your help, but not just in this moment.” King David was still speaking in that dry, amused tone. “Do not fear, Gareth, that Prince Henry or I are offended. We are not experts in unearthed bodies. Thankfully, few are. We are happy to leave the investigation to you.”

  Gareth took in a quick breath. “I appreciate your confidence, and I’m sure I will need assistance. There will be much to do in the next hours and days, not the least of which is questioning everyone who may have been about the castle tonight, to see if anyone saw anything suspicious near the church that they didn’t think to mention at the time.” He directed his gaze back to James Carr and with sudden inspiration added, “It would be most helpful, my lord, if you could return to the hall. By now, I’m sure it is rife with rumor, and many have heard—or misheard—what has transpired. A few words from someone of your stature and authority might go a long way to soothing those troubled by these events. Your lady wife might be there as well. I imagine she will need some comforting.” He had laid on the politeness and deference with James even more thickly than he’d done with the king.

  “Not to mention guidance.” James’s comment came out as a growl.

  While that wasn’t quite the effect Gareth had hoped to have, James no longer seemed opposed to leaving. Turning to the king, he bowed and said, “Anything to assist, my lord.”

  “Thank you, James. As always, your wisdom is of great comfort. Perhaps you could also send word to Father Dunstan that Lord Gareth has need of him in his church.”

  “Of course, my lord.”

  Gareth hadn’t forgotten about the priest, but he could focus on only so many things at one time.

  That left Lord Douglas. He had watched the proceedings from beside the king and had been all but glowering at the body without respite the whole time Gareth had been conferring with James. While both men were sure of themselves and accustomed to ordering others about, Douglas commanded men in battle. Dead bodies would not be in any way new to him.

  Now Douglas managed to unstick his eyes from the body long enough to direct his attention back to Gareth. “May I also assist in some fashion? I admit dead bodies in churches are a bit out of my experience, but there must be something I can do to help.”

  Gareth was impressed that he would admit ignorance to a total stranger, and he was beginning to see why King David had elevated the man to his current commanding position. “As a commander of the king’s forces, and because you may know the man, if peripherally, you are better suited than I to make inquiries among the men under your command.”

  Douglas gave a sharp nod. “Of course. I will proceed with the questions immediately and find you again as soon as I have something to report.” He took a step towards the door, to all appearances looking as if he intended to begin immediately. Then he turned back and made a gesture that might have been apologetic. “I have heard of you, of course. Please forgive my rudeness. This is all very unsettling.”

  “It is forgotten.” Gareth had no difficulty being gracious. It was unsettling. “I appreciate your assistance and would appreciate even more any information you discover, no matter how insignificant it appears at first. I might also suggest, when you question your men, that the fact they know nothing or remember nothing is also helpful. If nobody saw anything, that tells us something too.”

  “In my experience, when soldiers say they know nothing, they are lying. Only when the punishment starts does the truth come out.” And on that ominous note, which was the opposite of what Gareth had intended to convey, Douglas gave the king another bow and set off down the nave to disappear a moment later through the door.

  King David watched him go and then said to Gareth in a soft voice, “He is a hard man, but a good one. He knows what he is about. And although James too has presented himself in a somewhat less than salutary light, he has the confidence of many of my lesser nobles, as well as, of course, Hugh de Morville.”

  Gareth had no choice but to take the king at his word. “Thank you, my lord, for explaining. I’m sure you’re right.”

  The opening of the door had brought a rush of air into the church, and such was Douglas’s forceful haste that he hadn’t pulled it properly closed behind him. The door swung open again and banged against the wall. With the breeze came the scent of grass and clean earth, as opposed to the musty smell that had filled the church because of the body. Dai took it upon himself to stride after Douglas in order to catch the door before it banged again. He found a stone on the porch by which to prop it open. All of them began to breathe more easily.

  King David’s expression now became one of amusement. “I don’t know whether to be pleased or appalled at having such an accomplished diplomat in our midst. I will have to examine everything you say to me for similar treatment. I can see why your king sent you and will leave this investigation in your capable hands.”

  He reached out to turn Prince Henry around in order to follow after the others, but Henry shook his head. “We are not quite done here, Uncle.” And then he murmured something low enough that Gareth couldn’t overhear.

  “Ah.” The king glanced back at Gareth, a speculative look on his face. “As a veteran of several encounters with you over the years, my nephew tells me that a more formal designation of authority, beyond what I told Douglas and James just now, might be necessary, in case others are initially unwilling to cooperate.” He put up both hands as if making an announcement, though only the few of them remained in the church. “I hereby designate Lord Gareth ap Rhys as chief investigator charged with determining the circumstances around the death and appearance of this man here. Lord Gareth has my full confidence and countenance.” He dropped his hands. “I will return to the hall and repeat it.”

  “I will endeavor to make myself useful, my lord.” At a minimum, Prince Hywel and King Owain would be pleased that, within moments of Gareth’s arrival at Carlisle, he had proved indispensable. Gareth’s abilities and loyalty only added to their standing.

  “That should do it.” Prince Henry grinned but still didn’t move.

  The king eyed his great-nephew. “I am quite sure that Sir Gareth intended you to return to the hall with me.”

  “Of that I am well aware, Uncle. But we still have one more piece of business. What of Hamelin and Llelo? I promised them a knighthood, and I am loath to go back on my word.”

  “That would be neither wise nor fair.” King David looked at the two young men with something of a jaundiced eye, as if he’d forgotten about them up until this moment, which perhaps he had. “Well ... they can’t stay here, and it is too late in the evening to send them to the cathedral.” He nodded sharply, as if he’d made a decision someone else had put forth af
ter a discussion, instead of having that conversation take place in his own head. “They may remove themselves to my private chapel in the keep. Perhaps I should have sent them there in the first place.”

  “Then Margaret would have stood screaming on the porch,” Henry said softly. “I’m thinking all is as God intended.”

  “It always is.” The king made a come on gesture in the young men’s direction.

  Hamelin’s expression had become one of relief, and he took a few steps forward, but Llelo stayed where he was. “As much as I desire to be knighted, my duty to my father and my apprenticeship must come first.”

  “In Wales you do raise men to have their own minds, don’t you?” Before Gareth could reply, not that he had any idea how he could possibly reply to that comment, King David said to Llelo, “So it must, and I honor you for choosing to serve your father. However, I must insist.”

  Gareth grasped his son by the shoulders. “I honor your sacrifice as well, but I can do without you for one night—a matter of hours, really. I have enough help until then. You can pick up the investigation tomorrow morning as a full-fledged knight.”

  “He has me, for starters,” Dai said.

  Gareth turned to his other son. “You will go with your brother, as you did before. This service is not one you want to miss either.”

  But Gareth’s words had done nothing to relieve Llelo’s tension. “Father—”

  “That’s an order, son.”

  Llelo still looked pensive, his determination to sacrifice what he wanted for what he still believed was required of him in no way diminished. Gareth didn’t even see a war within him on the subject.

  “This is important too, son,” Gareth said gently. “There will always be another investigation. All will be well.”

  “You are certain, Father?” Llelo asked in Welsh. “Do you mean it?”

  “I have never meant anything more. I honor your commitment and that you were willing to sacrifice what you hoped for most in this world for what you thought was right. That tells me all the more that you deserve the honor the prince is offering.”

  Gareth smiled to see the hope in Llelo’s eyes and released him. “Go.” He gave him a little shove. “Put the investigation out of your mind for now.”

  “Excellent.” The king gave a sharp nod. “It is decided. The ceremony will take place tomorrow morning before we break our fast.”

  The renewed prospect of knighthood had put a smile on Llelo’s face that he couldn’t suppress, and there was even a spring in Dai’s step that hadn’t been present when he’d left the great hall after his brother the first time. By the time he reached the door again, Dai was grinning from ear to ear, and he gestured with a flourish for the others to exit in front of him. It was one of the things Gareth had always been able to count on with this found son of his: he was irrepressible, even in the face of dead bodies and—far worse—personal disappointment.

  As the two soon-to-be-knights reached the door, Prince Henry came up between them, one arm around each of their shoulders, though he was shorter than both. He was a prince and a knight, however, and the possibilities of life were spread before him like the food at an elaborate feast. “You made the right choice, Llelo. Aelred, if that’s his name, is past caring about your future. I am not.”

  Chapter Eight

  Day One

  Godfrid

  Godfrid and Conall had initially held back, posting themselves on opposite corners of the hall to converse with some of David’s nobles. The two of them had spent the initial portion of their friendship pretending they hated each other, so this was like pulling on a pair of old boots that had been discarded because the leather was stretched and no longer fit as comfortably as it once did, for all that the garb was familiar and easy on the feet. Like the boots, this guise couldn’t be worn too long.

  For now, their pretense was primarily that everything was well and that they weren’t interested in whatever had taken the king and prince from the hall. But with the return of the king, each man separately paid their respects, made noises about retiring for the evening after their long journey, and hastened directly to the church.

  As they’d discussed in the ship on the way to Carlisle, they thought it best if King David remained in the dark as to the closeness of their relationship with one another and Gareth. It was less that they were wary of letting him see into their hearts than outright fear that their attachment could be used against them later. This was a foreign castle, for all that each of them had been invited. So far, Gwynedd was the only country to which anything had been pledged or from which anything was expected.

  “This isn’t what I envisioned when Dai said body.” Godfrid came up behind Gareth, who was crouched before the corpse.

  Gareth’s mouth twitched. “The king said exactly the same.”

  Conall moved around the eastern edge of the dais, not getting too close just yet. “You seem to have a predilection for finding dead bodies in churches.”

  “It was Llelo who found this one, not me.”

  “He’s been dead longer than the last one,” Godfrid said.

  After a bark of a laugh, Gareth proceeded to tell them what he knew so far, which even Godfrid, with far fewer investigations under his belt, could see wasn’t enough.

  Still, the only way Godfrid could have been more pleased about how the day had turned out was if the three of them had been sitting together in a tavern instead of standing over a corpse. Over the last few years, he’d had too few moments when he’d been able to associate with these two men who’d become his closest friends, for all that each of them had a different native kingdom and tongue.

  “So what’s next?” Godfrid rubbed his hands together. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

  Conall laughed. “You are far too cheerful, my friend.”

  “I was just thinking to myself that Dai has the right of it. He manages to find joy in any event, even when his brother is being readied for knighthood, and he is not!”

  “And you didn’t even see him just now. He bowed his brother out the door like a French courtier.” Gareth’s head had come up at the mention of his sons. “I’m as proud of Dai as of Llelo. You remind me that I should tell him so.”

  “I suppose you’re right, Godfrid, that things could be worse,” Conall said. “Up until we arrived in the hall, I was quite gloomy, afraid the week we spent here would be uneventful and far too full of diplomacy and polite talk.”

  “I, on the other hand, would have been perfectly content to be a diplomat for a while,” Gareth’s voice was gloomy, though Godfrid was quite sure it was tinged with amusement too, “but as Conall noted, dead bodies seem to appear wherever I go.”

  Conall acknowledged Gareth’s words with a sardonic smile and took it upon himself to light a few more candles. After a glance at him, Gareth pulled out his book of investigations and a pencil and set to work.

  Godfrid eyed the book. “Was bringing that to the feast foresight ... or prescience?”

  “It isn’t prescience if I’m never without it. It’s small enough to fit into my breast pocket, next to this treaty King David didn’t even want to look at. I make notes when I’ve nothing better to do.” Gareth looked up from the sketch of the scene he was drawing. “Besides, weren’t you just commenting on the way things go when I travel?”

  “If I were a superstitious man, I might say bringing the book ensured something like this would happen.”

  “Then it is good you’re not.” Conall nudged Godfrid to move so he could look over Gareth’s shoulder too. “I’ve never seen you sketch anything but faces before. You rendered the whole scene in a few strokes!”

  “It’s something I’ve been working on. I did one the other day of the ship.” Gareth flipped to a prior page in his book to show Conall and Godfrid the image. It was a good rendering, as Godfrid might expect, and he itched to keep it for himself. Perhaps later he would ask if he could have it. They were close enough friends that he didn’t think Gareth wo
uld mind the imposition.

  “I sent Llelo away, but drawing what I see will allow him or anyone else to relive the scene.” Gareth flipped back to his current drawing. “It occurred to me that with the body so decayed, we may have less to learn from it than from what surrounds it. That’s the only part of what is happening here that’s recent.”

  “Very recent.” Godfrid’s eyes were assessing. “Maybe we can’t know exactly when he died as yet, but we do know the window of opportunity for placing the body here.”

  “After evening mass and before Margaret arrived.” Conall bobbed a nod. “Most residents of the castle will be able to account for their whereabouts during that time. Most were at the ceremony.”

  “Maybe.” Gareth was still focused on his drawing. “You can be sure that the majority of the residents of this castle will not have been in the same place for the entire period, even if many say they were and produce witnesses to prove it. Who remembers if a man was gone for half an hour at some point over a three hour period? And if he was gone, it proves nothing, since he could have been in the latrine or clearing his head on the battlement.”

  On that decidedly pessimistic note, Godfrid crouched before the body, his eyes moving up, down, and over the decayed remains. From the attitude of the others, only he himself appeared bothered by the smell. He hadn’t ever thought of his nose as particularly sensitive, but he was missing the lavender sachet Gareth had given him in the past when forced to examine a body.

  And then, as if prompted by the thought Godfrid hadn’t actually voiced, Gareth reached into his purse, which was more of a small satchel with a strap worn across his body. “I’m not bothered right now, but does anyone want—”