Free The Unlikely Spy by Sarah Woodbury Page A

say.”
    Fychan blanched. “I really couldn’t.”
    “You really must.” Having Tangwen on her hip
meant Gwen was somewhat unbalanced, but she took two steps down the
bank towards the water.
    Her movement seemed to prompt the boy,
however, and he nodded, seemingly resigned to his fate. He began to
pick his way towards the shore.
    “Thank you,” Gwen said. “Let me get my
things.”
    Gwen returned to the pool where Tangwen had
been bathing, swept up her boots and Tangwen’s clothes, and arrived
at the path that ran through the gardens at the same time that the
two monks appeared at the top of the bank. She took a moment to
drop the clean dress over Tangwen’s head and put her own boots back
on. The hem of Gwen’s dress was wet, but she hoped it wasn’t too
noticeable, and she tried to tame her hair back into its headscarf.
The truth was, Prior Pedr intimidated her more than a little. Like
Prior Rhys, he seemed to be able to see right through her, but
unlike Prior Rhys, they had no shared experience to temper their
relationship.
    Fychan waited patiently for her to ready
herself, and then he followed her back to the cobbled courtyard.
Upon reaching it, Gwen hesitated. She didn’t see anyone she knew.
Another party of guests had just arrived. The guesthouse was
already full to bursting, so perhaps these people were sleeping in
the stables. Gwen certainly didn’t want to disturb them with a
discussion of the dead body lying in the vestibule.
    She turned to the first monk, who’d come
with them but whose name she didn’t know. “Can you ask your prior
if he will speak to me? It would be better yet if Prior Rhys from
St. Kentigern’s is with him.”
    The monk ducked his head in acknowledgement
of her request and ran off without arguing or questioning her.
    Fychan didn’t seem to want to look at her,
but by taking a step closer and lowering her voice she forced him
to look into her eyes. “If you are right that this is the man you
knew, then you have done not only him, but Prince Hywel, a great
service.”
    The boy’s head came up at that, and his
expression lightened, which was what Gwen had hoped for. “I
shouldn’t have been at the brook. Dafydd and I missed Vespers.”
    “I guessed as much.” Then Gwen let out a
sigh of relief as both priors appeared, stepping out of the doorway
to the chapter house. “Hopefully, in a moment, where you were or
what you were doing won’t matter in the slightest. I’ll be sure to
put in a good word for you too.”
    Fychan shook his head. “Thank you, but Prior
Pedr never forgets anything. I’ll be mucking out the latrine
tomorrow, you can be sure.”
    Gwen hid a smile at the boy’s morose
expression. “Just tell the truth. What happens after that is out of
our hands.”

Chapter Seven
    Hywel
     
    H ywel had been
feeling unsettled all day. Days ago he’d sent a scout up the road
to the north to let him know when his father, King Owain, crossed
into Ceredigion. That morning, the man had returned to report that
Hywel’s uncle, Cadwaladr, would be arriving ahead of the king.
Earlier, Hywel had dismissed Gareth and returned to the castle in
order to determine whether Cadwaladr had arrived. Consequently,
he’d missed the initial finding of the body.
    Now, as he rode through the gatehouse of his
castle, his heart sank to see it full of his uncle’s men. Hywel
closed his eyes before dismounting, gathering his internal strength
and preparing himself to withstand whatever snide comments or
outright ugliness his uncle threw at him.
    The passion with which he hated his uncle
was something that Hywel rarely allowed anyone to see, and it was
important that today not be an exception. Nobody could ever know
how Hywel felt. They could guess all they wanted, but if he kept
those feelings hidden, when the time came for him to bring evidence
against his uncle for his next crime, he could claim impartiality.
Some would distrust Hywel’s motives. Cadwaladr certainly would. But
the day