The Fourth Horseman (31 page)

“
Could it be that—” Gwen
looked at her husband, whose face had turned to stone.

“No,” Gareth said. “It couldn’t.”

Chapter
Twenty-five

Gareth

G
areth held Henry by the shoulders. “You’re sure? You’re sure
it was Amaury you saw?”

The boy nodded.

“
Who else have you told?”
Gareth said.

“
Nobody! I couldn’t tell
anyone! Bernard went down and the guards brought me here. My mother
screamed and screamed—” He put his hands to his ears as if he could
still hear her.

Gareth, for his part, had a hard time
imagining the empress screaming about anything except in anger.

“
You need to go, Gareth,”
Gwen said, “just like before. I’ll stay with Prince Henry until
Earl Robert gets here.”

“
He’s staying away so as
not to attract anyone’s attention to me,” Henry said.

“
That may be, but you are
more than a prince today. You are the only witness to the murder.”
Gareth stood and took a step towards the door. “Your safety is
still our first priority.”

Prince Henry rose to his feet to follow him.
“You may be right, but it is unseemly for a prince to cower in a
room while others risk their lives for him.”

“
No!” Gareth and Gwen
shouted in unison.

Gareth went down on one knee again before
Henry. “We need to know that you, at least, remain safe. For you to
appear now, alive, might not only put your life in danger but all
our lives.”

“
How so?” said Henry, not
ready to give in.

“
Because the killer will
know that he failed. He will be desperate to finish the job and
won’t care who is harmed in the process,” Gareth said.

Prince Henry stuck out his chin, but then he
sat down again with a sigh. “I accept what you say. Go.”

Gareth glanced at Gwen, who gave him a quick
smile. Ten-year-old boys seemed to be her forte, so he knew he
could leave Henry to her. Gareth pulled open the door to find the
three women still making a show of gossiping in the corridor. At
the sight of them, he forced himself to accept what Prince Henry
had told him: that Amaury had manipulated everyone, including him.
Maybe all signs had pointed to Amaury all along and Gareth hadn’t
wanted to see it. He would have to examine the clues again later,
when he had time, and discover where they’d all gone wrong. Where
he’d gone wrong.

As he saw it now, Gareth had two choices:
the first was to run after Amaury on the off-chance that he could
overtake him. If Amaury fled Newcastle, he would ride to the court
of King Stephen. A man didn’t murder the son of an empress and
expect to resume his normal life as if nothing had happened. Three
emeralds would give him enough wealth to walk away from his old
life.

Gareth’s second choice—and the one he
realized he had to choose—was to speak to Earl Robert and inspire
him to organize a manhunt. Another few moments might make the
difference between apprehending Amaury and not, but Gareth wouldn’t
consider the time wasted if he had the earl and all his resources
at his disposal. If they were going to capture Amaury, they had an
enormous amount of ground to cover in a short amount of time.

That didn’t mean, however, that he shouldn’t
do what he could about Amaury right now. Gareth tugged the door
closed and faced the women guards. “Prince Henry reports that it
was Sir Amaury who killed Bernard. I will speak to the earl if one
of you will run to the friary and find Prince Rhun or Philippe.
Amaury could be long gone by now, but if we have a chance to stop
him anywhere, it will be from there.”

The three women gaped at him, and for a
moment Gareth wondered if his French had been up to the task, but
then one of the women, the same redhead who’d spoken earlier and
seemed to be in charge, nodded. “I’ll go.”

They raced down the stairs and into the
anteroom. While the woman disappeared through the main door to the
bailey, Gareth came to a sudden stop, having nearly plowed through
Evan, who stood swaying in front of him, his eyes crossing and
re-crossing as he tried to focus them. Gareth grabbed his
shoulders, just as he had Prince Henry’s. “Where have you
been?”

“
I woke up underneath a
bed.” Evan waved a hand feebly towards an upper floor. “What’s
going on?”

“
I don’t have time to tell
you.” Gareth’s eyes swept the anteroom, looking for anyone he could
trust and coming up empty. He shoved Evan towards the doorway to
the stairs. “Gwen is in Earl Robert’s quarters. Go to
her.”

Evan gawked at Gareth. “She’s where?”

Gareth tsked through his teeth at his
friend’s slow mind. Poppy juice, he guessed, and not his fault. He
gripped both sides of Evan’s head, making him focus on him. “This
is important. Go to her. She will explain everything. I need you to
protect her and the one she’s with.”

Gareth’s urgency seemed to penetrate the fog
in Evan’s mind, because he nodded and, with a straighter back,
turned on his heel and trotted up the stairs towards the earl’s
apartments. Gareth took in a deep breath, committing himself to his
next course of action, come-what-may. He pushed open the door to
the great hall.

While the uproar in the bailey had been
ongoing, the great hall was unnaturally calm. Bernard lay in state
on a table, a cloth covering him except for his head. Empress Maud
was nowhere to be seen, but Earl Robert paced in front of the fire,
barking commands and demanding answers while his retainers cowered
around him. Gareth recognized none of the others on sight, but at
Gareth’s entrance, they all looked over to him.

“
You can’t be in here—” One
of the men strode towards Gareth, motioning with his hands that
Gareth should depart immediately.

“
He’s Prince Hywel’s man,”
Earl Robert said. “Have him come to me.”

The man seemed to hold no grudge towards
Gareth, because his shooing hand gesture turned into a welcoming
bow. “This way.”

Gareth marched across the floor to join the
circle of men around Earl Robert, though with a flick of one
finger, all but two melted away. “What is it?” Earl Robert
said.

“
I have spoken with … ah …
the boy in your quarters,” Gareth said, not explaining more clearly
since he didn’t know how many of the earl’s men knew about the
deception.

The earl raised his eyebrows. “Did you?”

“
He saw who murdered—”
Gareth gestured to Bernard. “It was Amaury.”

Another lord might have gasped, but Earl
Robert gave away his surprise only by a tightening around the eyes.
“I see.” The other men had good control too.

“
I spoke to the guards at
the entrance to the tunnel. Amaury and two of his men left by that
avenue immediately after—” Again Gareth’s eyes skated to Bernard’s
body and back to Earl Robert, “—the event.”

“
The boy is sure?” Earl
Robert said.

“
Yes,” Gareth
said.

“
All the boys who
accompanied the prince, along with his adult retainers, are
gathered in the next room,” the earl said. “Nobody saw anything—or
rather, everyone saw something and none of it the same.”

“
The boy recognized Amaury
from his visit to Bristol a few months ago,” Gareth said. “Today he
noted Amaury’s sling specifically.”

“
Christ on the cross.” Earl
Robert swung around and kicked at the logs stacked beside the
fireplace. It was the first instance of emotion Gareth had seen in
him.

“
I left my wife in your
quarters,” Gareth said, “but I feel it is my duty to continue this
investigation. Do I have your permission to pursue Sir Amaury as I
see fit?”

“
I am in your debt,” Earl
Robert said. “What is your first step?”

“
To ride to the tunnel’s
exit in the abandoned chapel and try to find a trace of where
Amaury went from there,” Gareth said, and then he explained that
he’d sent one of the women guards to the friary to warn Philippe
and Prince Rhun of what Amaury had done.

“
I will send men through
the tunnel, to ensure that he isn’t hiding inside it.” And then
Earl Robert was all action. He clapped his hands together, and his
men converged on his position. With a few brief sentences, he sent
them off to gather men and begin a manhunt throughout the
countryside. By the time Gareth reached the door, half of the
earl’s men had already left the hall.

Once again, Gareth ran down the steps from
the keep and across the bailey, making for one of the many horses
picketed outside the stables. Gareth chose one and mounted before
the stable lad could stop him. “But, sir!”

“
I’ll bring him back!”
Gareth saluted the boy and urged the horse towards the gatehouse.
He raised his voice. “Open the portcullis!”

But the order from Earl Robert had already
gone out. Even before Gareth reached it, the gate was open. Gareth
ducked underneath the metal spikes, turned the horse’s head, and
sent the animal heading north from the castle. As he flew through
the village, people milled about the green, directionless. But at
the sight of Gareth leaving and the newly opened gate, many moved
towards the castle again. Gareth could have told them that they
would see a gratifying amount of activity in a moment.

Once through the village, it was less than a
quarter of a mile across a few fields to where the abandoned chapel
nestled in its clearing among the trees. Gareth could see it before
he reached it and slowed when he realized that no one was near or
around it. He dismounted as he approached the ruins and led his
horse to the altar with its stairs down to the crypt.

He paced around the altar. The grass that
grew between the fallen stones and flagstones had been pressed
flat, though Gareth couldn’t distinguish any boot prints in
particular. From the tracks, men had come through the tunnel and
left the chapel, all following the same line: towards the
friary.

Ten feet from the altar, a knife lay in the
grass. Gareth looped the horse’s reins around a half-fallen pillar
and crouched to look at it. Blood stained the blade. If Amaury had
been especially clever, the knife would prove to belong to someone
else, perhaps Alard. Gareth could even imagine that Amaury had left
the knife at the chapel to lead a pursuer astray. It was unlikely
that he’d accidently dropped it having murdered Prince Henry with
it a quarter of an hour earlier.

Gareth wrapped the knife in a cloth and
stowed it in the saddle bags on the horse. The horse’s owner had
prepared for a journey, for the bags were already filled with food,
a cloak, and blankets. Gareth took a drink from the water skin to
find that it contained not water but a respectable wine. He gave a
silent toast in thanks to the owner, who clearly liked his
comforts.

Gareth eyed the steps going down into the
crypt and decided he ought to check for Earl Robert’s men before
continuing on to the friary. He went down the steps and warily
entered the crypt and the tunnel beyond. The two soldiers on duty
rose to their feet at the sight of him, so he made sure to keep his
hands up and unthreatening as he entered. “Did Sir Amaury come
through here?”

“
Yes, sir,” the man said.
“Not very long ago.” He looked towards the tunnel. A faint echoing
of footsteps came from it. “What’s happened, sir? Sir Amaury said
that the prince was dead.”

“
He is not dead,” Gareth
said.

The man’s shoulders sagged in relief, and at
that moment, five men from Newcastle popped out of the tunnel’s
entrance. The man in the lead lifted a hand. “Sir Gareth. What
news?”

“
Come with me.” Leaving the
guards at their post, Gareth led the way back through the crypt and
up the stairs to the altar. Once outside, Gareth pulled the
cloth-wrapped knife from his saddle bag and showed it to the
soldier. “The murder weapon, I believe.”

The man opened the cloth for a brief look
and then closed it again. “Best if you keep it. We may not have the
opportunity to return to the castle until nightfall.”

“
I’m for the friary,”
Gareth said. “Send one of your men back to the earl. If I’m right
that Amaury went that way, Philippe might appreciate more
men.”

“
Yes, sir,” the man said.
“The rest of us will follow you on foot.”

Gareth urged his horse out of the chapel and
onto the path the cart carrying Amaury had taken after he’d been
shot. It seemed like a lifetime ago. The urgency of his task pushed
Gareth on, and he left the earl’s men far behind. While Gareth
wanted to learn the answers to his myriad questions, as long as
Amaury was at large, the prince’s life remained in danger.

Amaury’s treachery was far
harder for Gareth to accept than Prince Cadwaladr’s had been.
Gareth had
wanted
Cadwaladr to be guilty because it fulfilled all his
expectations, and he hated the man anyway. Gareth had started to
count Amaury as a friend. Villains had escaped Gareth
before—rarely, but it had happened—but he would feel personally
affronted if he lost
this
one.

His horse jumped over a low stone wall,
cantered through the friary’s extensive gardens, and was
approaching the cloister when four men spilled from the wooden gate
in the hedge that separated the main friary buildings from the
garden in this location. One of them waved his arms at Gareth and
then grabbed the horse’s bridle as Gareth reined in.

“
Get down! Get down! You’re
a target up there.”