"I did not see his face, for the hood," Sim repeated. "The day was dark, and the storm close. The courier never looked directly at me, now that I recall it, but kept his upper body in shadow. His height was shorter than taller. He said but four words to me. Master will be pleased. The voice was gruff, and I thought at the time that it was an odd voice, for you Welsh have voices that are usually more mellifluous, but, then, why would I be suspicious of a man wearing your badge who met me at the appointed hour and at the appointed place?" Sim concluded rather sarcastically.
"Why indeed," Merin ap Owen said, and suddenly he was thoughtful. Then he said, "The messenger I sent you was a tall man, and his voice was indeed soft and musical. His body was found a mile from Gwynfr a little while ago, Sim of Ashlin. He did not have the gold. The ground beneath him was dry, though the body itself was soaked with the rain. This tells me that he was killed before your alleged meeting on the verge. Is it possible you lay in wait for my man, murdered him, then returned to the verge to await whoever followed him? Has your master truly paid the ransom, or does he believe you can diddle me?"
"My lord," Sim said, horrified by this turn of events, "I swear to you upon my lady Eleanore’s life that I met your courier upon the verge and turned over the ransom payment to him. My master would not endanger his wife for any reason. I am telling you the truth. I murdered no one. I followed your instructions to the letter. If you have been betrayed, you had best look to your own house for the traitor."
Again the lord of Gwynfr was silent, his handsome face deep in concentration as he considered the Englishman’s words. He had to be telling the truth. Why else would he have taken his life in his hands to come to Gwynfr? His dark blue eyes narrowed in thought. There was only one person audacious enough to betray him in his own house. She should be by his side right now, but she had sent word by her servant that she was ill with a flux, and begged to be excused this evening.
"Get up," Merin ap Owen said to Sim. Then he turned to his man, Badan. "Go to the lady Isleen’s apartment in the top of the tower, and fetch her to me. If her servant girl says she is ill, insist in my name on seeing her yourself. And if she is not there, bring Arwydd to the hall to me. Do not mistreat her, however," he warned.
Badan ran off with a nod. Sim got to his feet and rubbed his knees. The stone had been hard, and he had been thrown none too gently upon it. He stood silent, waiting, wondering.
"Your lady is safe," Merin ap Owen said quietly, then nothing more.
After some minutes Badan returned to the hall, dragging a most reluctant Arwydd with him by her arm. The girl was crying and clearly very frightened.
"Where is your mistress?" Merin ap Owen demanded of her in a cold, hard voice. "Speak up, wench!"
"I… I do not know!" Arwydd sobbed.
"She told me the lady was sleeping, but when I pushed past her into the bedchamber, the bed was empty, my lord," Badan said.
"Where is your mistress?" Merin ap Owen asked a second rime.
Arwydd sobbed all the harder. "I swear on the Blessed Virgin’s name, my lord, that I do not know!"
"You knew enough about it to lie, wench," the lord of Gwynfr said. "You must know something even if you do not know where your mistress is."
"My lady went out early today," Arwydd said. "She did not say where she was going, nor when she would be back. It was not her habit to tell me these things. Usually she said nothing, but today she asked that if anyone sought her out, I was to say she was ill and sleeping. That is all I can tell you, I swear it!"
"Yet when it grew dark, you did not come to me and say she was missing," Merin ap Owen pointed out.
" 'Twere plenty of times she didn't come back until after dark, my lord," Arwydd told him. "If I had come to you and then she had returned, she would have beaten me black-and-blue. I was only her servant. I saw to her clothing and hair. I brought her whatever she asked of me. She never spoke with me but to give me an order or to complain about something. She was not an easy mistress, but it was better than serving in my uncle’s whorehouse."
"If I find that you are lying to me, Arwydd," the lord of Gwynfr said softly, "I shall give you to my men for their pleasure."
Arwydd threw herself down before the high board. "My lord! I swear to you that I know nothing more than I have told you! Do not give me to your men, I beg you!" She held out her hands to him, pleading.
"My lord," Sim said quietly, "I believe the girl speaks the truth. The lady Isleen has discarded her because she would have been a liabihty had she known the lady’s plans. Had Arwydd been gone from Gwynfr with her mistress, you would have discovered the lady Isleen’s perfidy all the sooner. Now she is long gone on whatever road and it is certain that she has taken the gold."
"And murdered my courier," Merin ap Owen said. "Isleen always liked poison, and there was not a mark of violence upon my man’s body. His lips were quite blue, and there was a bit of dried froth about his mouth. His horse was gone, and could not be found in the vicinity. My treacherous leman obviously took it. She planned this well, but I shall find her, and I shall show her no mercy! Get up, wench!" he snapped at Arwydd. "Go back to your mistress’s apartment while I consider exactly what I shall do."
Arwydd scrambled to her feet, and dashed out of the hall as if she were being pursued by all the devils in hell.
"My lord," Sim spoke. "What of my mistress? I paid the ransom you required in good faith. It is not the fault of any at Ashlin that the gold has gone astray."
Merin ap Owen looked down on the young Englishman. "I must have the night to reflect on all of this. You may sleep in my stables with your horse, Sim of Ashlin. Come back to the hall one hour after the sun has risen, and I will render my decision on this matter. You could not start back to Ashlin tonight in any event. Have you eaten? No? Then, go the kitchens, and you will be fed. My men will leave you in peace now, for you are as much of a foolish dupe as I have been."
Sim felt relief coursing through his body. He bowed, and hurried out of the hall. Watching him go, Merin ap Owen almost laughed aloud. The lad had shown courage, but his hasty retreat indicated his fear of the situation. Still, he had come to Gwynfr, and he had asked for his mistress’s release.
"What will you do, lord?" Badan asked him, and Merin ap Owen saw the curious faces turned up to him.
"I do not know yet," he answered.
"But you will seek out the bitch?" Badan persisted.
"Aye, I will," Merin ap Owen said, "but the rest I do not know. I will think on it, but be prepared to ride come the morning." He arose then and left the hall.
Elf sat by the fireplace, mending one of his tunics. She looked up, her lovely face serious. "What has happened? Was not this the day I was to be released, my lord? Yet it is already night, and I am still here at Gwynfr."
"My courier was murdered, and the gold stolen from him," he said. "Now I must decide what is to be done."
Her face grew paler than it normally was. "How did this happen, my lord?" Elf laid her sewing aside and arose to face him.
He explained to her exactly what he had determined based on the information Sim had brought, on Arwydd’s testimony, on the evidence of his own eyes and instincts. Then to his surprise Elf burst into tears, sobbing so piteously that his heart almost broke. He wrapped his arms about her in a gesture of comfort. Surprised, she looked up into his face, and Merin ap Owen was lost in the moment. Unable to restrain himself, his mouth took hers in a burning, fierce kiss.
Startled, Elf was not certain at first what to do. She had never been kissed so skillfully by anyone but her beloved Ranulf. Instinctively her lips softened, and she was only brought to her senses by the sudden realization of his hard body against hers, his lustful member throbbing against her belly. Still, for a brief moment she allowed herself to be swept away before marshaling her forces, her two small hands pushing against his broad chest. "My lord!" She pulled her head back. "Please, my lord, this is wrong, and you well know it!" She stepped away from him as if to put a safe distance between herself and his fiery heat of passion.