Free The Bard's Daughter (A Gareth and Gwen Medieval Mystery) by Sarah Woodbury Page A

“It’s time, Father.”
    “ Are you ready?” Meilyr directed a sharp gaze at Gwen. “We never practiced our song.”
    “ It can’t be helped now,” Gwen said.
    “ Let’s go.” Gwalchmai led the way out of the cell, bouncing on his toes. He loved to sing—loved everything about it, from the sound of his voice, to the study of meter and rhyme, to the performance itself—and it was that characteristic as much as his magical voice that would make him a great bard. If the people of Deheubarth didn’t know it already, they would after tonight.
    This evening, Gwen’s family had diverged from their usual custom of eating the meal in the hall and rising at the end to sing, or even playing throughout the meal, in favor of a more formal ceremony. Gwen hadn’t eaten at all, though she’d seen Gwalchmai well fed in the kitchens and brought her father’s tray to him herself.
    The hall quieted as Gwalchmai, Gwen, and Meilyr filed through the main doorway, not because they had entered the room, but because Robert had risen to his feet at the same time.
    “ Lord Cadfael did not want to sully his son’s birth day with unpleasant tasks, but it has already been sullied,” Robert said. “You all know of the death of Collen, the merchant and trader … I must announce that Lord Cadfael has found Meilyr, the bard, guilty of his murder. He will be hanged in the morning.”
    A wave of confused noise rose and fell throughout the hall: horror, maybe, shock even, and surprise that the Welsh tradition of galanas would be overlooked in favor of the Norman sentence of death.
    Cadfael sat with a finger to his lips, observing the reactions of his guests. Cadoc had moved to stand to the right of his father’s chair, as he had stood during Meilyr’s sentencing. Gwen noted when his gaze sharpened on Eva and Denis, who sat in the middle of a far table. Eva had turned on the bench, so her back was to Denis and she faced towards the room. Denis wore a look of bemusement and took a sip of wine.
    As she looked at Meilyr, however, Eva’s face had transformed from that of an innocent beauty to a vengeful matron.
    Gwen stared at her, and then flicked her attention away, just as Eva trained her eyes on Gwen and Gwalchmai. By the time Gwen dared to raise her head, Eva had faced back to Denis who was pouring her a cup of wine from a flagon.
    Robert had remained standing. “As a last request, Meilyr asks your pardon, if not your forgiveness, and joins us in the celebration of Cadoc’s birth day.”
    At Robert’s nod, Meilyr led Gwen and Gwalchmai up the center aisle to the dais. A stir ran around the room. To the eyes of everyone there, Meilyr was a dead man walking. She knew her father was hating every step he took, hating to be the object of scorn and ridicule—and pity. It gave a poignancy to the moment that Gwen herself didn’t feel. She was too caught up in worrying about the aftermath of the singing, and whether they really would be able to ride away from Carreg Cennen in one piece.
    When they reached the high table, Gwlachmai and Meilyr bowed and Gwen curtseyed.
    “ Bard,” Cadfael said.
    Even with the unveiling of Robert’s deceit, Gwen was pleased to see no animosity in Cadfael’s eyes as he looked at them. From beside his father, Cadoc’s face was lit from within. He had become a man today, shot a deer with his own arrow and then slit its throat, and from now on would take up his duties as his father’s right hand man. Gwen hoped that he had learned something from these past few days and would not follow his father’s duplicitous example.
    “ My lord,” Meilyr said, speaking formally. “We have prepared a song in honor of Lord Cadoc’s birthday. Do we have your permission to sing it?”
    “ Yes,” Cadfael said.
    The three singers moved to one side of the dais and then turned to face the audience. Gwen allowed her focus to blur, so she couldn’t see individual faces. On a happier day, she might have enjoyed the guests’