The Fourth Horseman (16 page)

Gwen looked sharply at him. “Do you think it
is?”

“
No,” Gareth said. “Of
course not. But someone means us to think so.”

He could feel Gwen relax beside him. “You
had me worried there for a moment. I could believe in ghosts if I’d
ever encountered one.”

Gareth squeezed Gwen’s hand. “Even if
spirits were here, I don’t believe they would hurt us. But I’m
inclined to believe people are responsible.”

Gwen’s brow furrowed. “You mean someone is
making those noises?”

“
Some
thing
, Gwen,” Gareth said. “Think
about it: the winding pathway, the thick forest which hides access
to this pleasant wood, the moaning. It all adds up to an attempt to
prevent people from coming here and, if they do find their way
through these woods, ensuring that they leave quickly.”

Gwen cocked her head and then handed the
reins of her horse to Gareth. She walked twenty feet from him,
halted at the base of a pine tree, and looked up. “The sound is
louder here.”

“
Can you see something that
could be making it? Wind chimes, perhaps?” Gareth said.

“
There!” She pointed a
finger. “And over there too!”

“
Imagine what it might be
like to come here on a gloomy winter day or in the dark,” Gareth
said.

Gwen spun around to look at Gareth. “Do you
think, then, that those alders were planted on purpose? That they
really are meant to be a shield or a fence?”

“
If we find the farmhouse
close by, I would say ‘definitely’,” Gareth said. “But let’s find
it first.”

They continued walking, and even Gareth had
to admit that occasionally the sound of the wind in the trees sent
a chill down his spine. Gwen renewed her hold on his hand. They
were heading northwest now and had just crested a small rise when
they both halted at once.

A wooden house was nestled in a clearing
with its back to a copse of trees. A creek ran past it on the west
side, heading north to the Lyme Brook. Gareth was surprised to have
found the farmhouse this easily, though five hours of looking might
not qualify as ‘easy’ to some.

“
We would never have known
about this if Prior Rhys hadn’t told you,” Gareth said.

“
The trees grow thicker
again on the other side of the house.” Gwen lifted a hand to
indicate where she meant. “A traveler faces them no matter where he
starts.” She glanced at Gareth and then at the farmhouse. “Much
easier to just continue along the main path, don’t you
think?”

“
Between the eerie sounds
and the thick trees, I’d agree that few would want to come here.”
Gareth looped the horses’ reins around a tree branch and crept a
few paces forward, keeping a screen of bushes between them and the
house.

Gwen followed him and studied the house some
more. “It has the look of being long abandoned.”

“
It does.” Gareth didn’t
enter the clearing but crouched in the brush and pulled Gwen down
beside him. “But then, like everything else, its appearance could
be a carefully cultivated façade. We should stay here to watch for
a while.”

Gwen glanced up at him. “You’re disturbed by
the way things have fallen out, aren’t you?”

“
What makes you say that?”
Gareth said, though even as he asked the question, he knew that she
was right.

“
Is it the spying?” she
said. “Or that we’re in England? It can’t be the deception because
people always lie to you.”

“
They do always lie.” The
words came out harsher than he intended, and he moderated his tone.
“I think it’s rather that the forces at play are so much more
powerful than I’m used to, and the stakes are so much higher. King
Owain rules Gwynedd and reaches his hand—uninvited at times—into
other parts of Wales, but the war that Stephen and Maud are
fighting is tearing England apart. I feel as if our troubles here
make up only one piece of that larger whole. I need to get it right
before Prince Henry dies.”

“
You are an honorable man,
Gareth ap Rhys,” Gwen said.

Gareth was glad to hear his wife say that
because he tried to be. He didn’t always succeed.

“
You brought the emerald,
didn’t you? What if someone is inside—?”

Gareth was shaking his head before she
finished. “Don’t worry. It’s safe.”

“
No place is safe,” Gwen
said, “and no one is safe.”

“
As safe as I can make it,”
Gareth said. “It’s in my boot.” Taking a leaf from David’s book,
Gareth had wrapped the emerald in a cloth and stuffed it near the
smallest toe in his boot. “Truth be told, it’s driving me mad, but
it was the best I could think of at the time.”

“
You certainly were wise
not to leave it in our tent,” Gwen said. “I wish Prince Rhun still
had it.”

“
At least he didn’t give it
to you.”

“
I would have been the
better choice,” Gwen said. “Nobody would think I had
it.”

“
Except for the man who
took David’s body!” Gareth shook his head. “Gwen, be
reasonable.”

“
Which is why he should
have given it to me,” Gwen said. “Perhaps another woman might have
kept the gem to herself, but more likely I would have told you, and
you would have told the princes, which is exactly what did happen.
We were predictable. Giving it to me would have been
unexpected.”

“
Clearly, everything we’ve
done so far is predictable, or we would have captured Alard by
now.” Gareth rubbed at his forehead. “Let’s not overthink this or
give the person behind whatever is happening too much credit. We
need to continue as we’ve been, and let him catch up to us if he
can.”

“
You mean he’s not a
sorcerer,” Gwen said. “He can’t see the future.”

“
I wish I could,” Gareth
said.

“
I do worry about the
princes,” Gwen said.

“
They are guarded,” Gareth
said, though even as he said it, he began to worry about them
himself. Then he shook his head. He had to trust Hywel, just as he
knew Hywel trusted him to do his job and do it right.

“
I suppose for us to stand
sentry outside their room wouldn’t help anyone, since Gruffydd is
already doing it,” Gwen said.

“
I fear for them, but then,
I feared for them as soon as we left Wales. We should have turned
around and gone home the moment David’s body hit the ground at your
feet.”

“
That was never going to
happen,” Gwen said. “Never. And you know it. You and Hywel were not
going to let this go.”

Gareth grunted his agreement. “We have spent
too long poking our noses into other people’s business to stop
now.”

“
Just as long as
nobody
else
knows
about the emerald,” Gwen said, “I’m hoping we’ll be all right for
now.”

“
Our traitor seems to have
extensive resources,” Gareth said, “but unless Prince Rhun told
Earl Robert in my absence, the emerald’s existence remains the
knowledge of you, me, Mari, and the princes.”

“
Good,” Gwen said. “Earl
Robert’s obligations are to his sister, and I certainly don’t
trust
her.
”

Gareth took a deep breath. “Let’s find out
what kind of man Alard really is.” He straightened and entered the
clearing. Nobody stirred in the farmhouse. Gareth didn’t know
whether to be glad or disappointed. They reached the door, two
inches thick and solid oak with heavy iron fittings. The farmhouse
wasn’t as ramshackle as it had initially looked. Gareth pointed at
the door and then put a finger to his lips.

Gwen nodded, and Gareth pushed on the door.
It was unlatched and swung open on silent hinges.

Gareth stepped into the main room, Gwen
following close behind him. He had drawn his belt knife rather than
his sword because it was better for fighting in confined spaces.
Two steps into the room, however, he relaxed.

“
It’s empty,” Gwen said,
disappointment in her voice.

Gareth looked around the room. “Who leaves
two chairs and a table in an empty and unguarded house?” He stowed
his knife. “I was hoping for more.”

“
You were hoping someone
would be here to greet us,” Gwen said. “Alard, as you suggested
back at the camp?”

Gareth laughed under his breath. “I’m not
ashamed to say that I assumed it. And at this point, any sign of
him would have been better than no sign.” He went to a ladder that
led up to a loft, which took up half the width of the main room. A
single rail prevented someone from falling to the floor below. From
a point halfway up the ladder, Gareth was tall enough to see into
the whole loft. It was completely bare, without even a bed or
blanket, just blank floorboards.

“
It’s empty up here, too.”
Gareth swept his fingers along the wooden planks and came up with a
layer of dust. “Empty a long while.”

“
Someone left us a
lantern.” Gwen pointed to a side wall where it hung on a hook. She
lifted it to examine the wick and showed it to Gareth, who’d come
back down the ladder. “The farmhouse isn’t quite as abandoned as it
looks if someone left a lantern full of oil and a freshly trimmed
wick.”

“
That’s more like it.”
Gareth was back to wary, but more hopeful too. Whoever had left the
lantern hadn’t chosen to occupy the house but had left it in good
order. It might be deserted, with dust in the loft, but it hadn’t
been allowed to fall into actual disrepair.

He could tell by how closely the wooden
planks were fitted together that the place was well-built. That
craftsmanship, along with the rudimentary fireplace that vented out
the far wall, spoke of a degree of wealth unusual for English
farmers. Someone had taken care to build a home that would stand
for many years. Peasant huts in Wales had a dirt floor with a fire
pit in the center and a hole in the ceiling to let out the smoke.
Most Saxon peasants lived similarly.

Gareth knelt and put his
cheek to the boards so his eyes could follow the line of the floor
all the way to the door. His brow furrowed. “Someone
has
been here recently.
The floor has been swept clean of footprints and dust.”

“
Do you think that whoever
was here last thought so far ahead that he didn’t want you—or
anyone—to see where he walked in his own house?” Gwen
said.

“
These are spies, Gwen.
They are trained to think many moves ahead and to go to seemingly
unnecessary extremes as a matter of course.” Gareth got to his feet
and stood in the center of the floor, gazing around the room. “He’s
hidden something here, and his footprints would have revealed where
it was.”

Gareth waved a hand, and they both began an
inspection of the house, Gwen starting on the opposite side of the
room from Gareth. When he reached the table, Gareth pulled it away
from where it was positioned, slightly to the left of the center of
the house, and studied the floor beneath where it had been, looking
for a trap door.

Meanwhile, Gwen trailed her hand along the
right-hand wall of the house. “Perhaps he’s hidden a treasure
somewhere in the walls. It may be that one section is unusually
thick, but we wouldn’t know it by looking from the inside.”

“
If we find nothing in
here, we’ll walk around the outside,” Gareth said.

Gwen bent to the floor. “I think I’ve found
something.”

Gareth reached her in three strides and
crouched to look at what she showed him. An inch from the wall, the
floor had been scratched. It looked as if someone had dug into the
wood with a knife.

“
Take a step back.” Gareth
put a hand on Gwen’s shoulder, and they observed that portion of
the floor together.

“
You can see the join,”
Gwen said. “It’s well done. Look—it follows the grain of the
wood.”

“
The planks are rough
enough that you wouldn’t notice unless you were looking.” Gareth
paused. “That’s good work, Gwen.”

Gwen smiled. “As you said, we’re dealing
with spies, right? Too bad Hywel isn’t here. He would love this.”
Taking out her belt knife, she slid it into the crack near the wall
and worked the blade back and forth.

A small square of wood lifted up, revealing
an iron ring underneath. Gareth found himself grinning as he
reached for it. Before he could pull on it, however, Gwen stopped
him with a hand to his arm. “What if this is its own trap?”

Gareth pulled back his hand. “You think a
crossbow is set to fire at me the moment I pull on this?”

Gwen settled back on her heels. “No. That
would be silly. Prior Rhys said they used this place.”

Gareth pulled on the ring. He couldn’t get
it to budge.

“
Wait,” Gwen said. “Maybe
we have to pull up more of the flooring first.”

Gareth nodded and stuck the blade of his
knife between what appeared to be two layers of flooring: a top
layer, three feet on a side, hid a trap door built into the bottom
layer underneath.

With the top panel set aside, Gareth again
grasped the ring and pulled. Up came the trap door, and Gareth and
Gwen inspected the dark space below them. Gareth got onto his knees
and bent forward to stick his head into the hole. “I can’t see
anything.”

“
Now we know what the
lantern is for,” Gwen said.

“
And why there’s a ladder
leading to an unused loft,” Gareth said.