Free The Unlikely Spy by Sarah Woodbury Page B

would come when Cadwaladr would do something so heinous
that his father would have no choice but to cast his uncle out of
Gwynedd forever. Hywel was going to make sure that his own emotions
didn’t stand in the way.
    So far, his uncle’s most grievous crimes
included hiring Danish mercenaries to ambush King Anarawd of
Deheubarth and conspiring with the Earl of Chester to overthrow
Hywel’s father as King of Gwynedd. Beneath those major sins were
dozens of minor ones including throwing Gareth out of Ceredigion
for disobeying an order. Gareth had refused to cut off a boy’s hand
for stealing a pig. Given that Gareth had ended up in Hywel’s
service, with knighthood, land, and honors commensurate with his
skills and intelligence, Hywel was willing to give Cadwaladr a pass
on that one.
    As Hywel strode across the packed earth of
the courtyard and up the steps into the keep and the great hall, he
endeavored to clear his mind and place a neutral expression on his
face. It wouldn’t do to focus on Cadwaladr’s villainy if he was to
greet him cordially.
    Aberystwyth Castle was built in wood rather
than the stone that was being used in some of the newer Norman
castles. The wood construction had facilitated Hywel’s burning of
it three years ago, but it had also allowed him to rebuild it
quickly once he took over Ceredigion from Cadwaladr. Hywel’s plan
was for a castle larger in scale—larger than most of the Norman
stone castles, with a more expansive palisade and many buildings
within it. Wood burned, of course, but it was far less expensive
than stone. Wood or stone, Hywel intended for this castle to be the
pride of all Ceredigion.
    Upon entering the hall, Hywel at once
spotted his uncle, who (as usual) was impossible to miss. Always
the center of attention in every room he entered, he reclined in a
chair halfway down the hall, surrounded by other guests. He was
holding court as if he owned the castle again, an attitude that
burned Hywel’s gut and forced him to take in another deep breath to
clear his mind. There was no point in avoiding this first meeting,
and better that it happen now than when the hall was even more full
of guests.
    Anyway, if Cadwaladr could come without
shame or compunction to Ceredigion, a land he had once ruled
through fear and intimidation, Hywel could pretend that all was
well too. Striding forward, his arm outstretched in greeting, he
said, “Welcome to Aberystwyth, Uncle.”
    Cadwaladr stood and grasped Hywel’s forearm
in a strong grip. With a flick of his hand, he dismissed the
various hangers-on who’d gathered around him. Hywel wasn’t sorry
the conversation would be witnessed only from afar, in case his
façade of welcome slipped.
    “Nephew. I see the rebuilding continues
apace.”
    “Yes.” Hywel couldn’t quite bring himself to
add ‘sir’ on the end and was glad his father wasn’t here to witness
this meeting either. All Hywel had done so far was greet his uncle,
but he was already teetering on the edge of his hatred, a hair’s
breadth from falling off the knife edge he walked. He gritted his
teeth in the semblance of a smile. “I see you have been given food
and drink. Are your quarters satisfactory?”
    “Indeed. The room is fine,” Cadwaladr
said.
    “Alice did not come?” Hywel said.
    “She is with child again and cannot travel,”
Cadwaladr said.
    Hywel nodded, experiencing an unexpected
moment of understanding and accord with his uncle. Mari was
pregnant again too. It was inconvenient, but it was the way of
marriage. “If you’ll excuse me, I must see to the arrangements for
tonight’s meal.” Hywel dipped his head in a bow, congratulating
himself on the quickness of their exchange and its cordiality. A
small victory.
    But with a lifted hand, Cadwaladr stopped
Hywel from moving towards the rear door. “I hear a body has been
found in the millpond.”
    Hywel hesitated, half-turned away, cursing
the speed at which rumor traveled in a small community. And then