A Dishonorable Knight(8)

"Will you hush! This is the king's own residence. Do you think you can speak ill of him and not be heard?" Grabbing Cynan's tunic, he pulled him outside where the cool air was refreshing after the enveloping heat of the great hall. Bryant put his mug down and followed them. "You never did have any sense as to when to keep your mouth shut, Cynan."

"His wife tells him that all the time," added Bryant as he shut the rough door behind him.

"Do not tell me you're mixed up in this, too."

"If you mean do I want Henry Tudor on the throne, then yes, I'm mixed up in it, too."

Gareth sighed. "You are going to get yourselves executed as traitors."

"If I am a traitor because I would see a good and noble Welshman on the throne over a scheming murderer, then so be it, I am a traitor," said Cynan fiercely.

"There has not been any proof that Richard had his nephews killed," Gareth protested, though he knew there could be no other explanation for the boys’ untimely disappearance.

Bryant spoke up. "Gareth, do you mean to say Richard holds your loyalty and honor?"

"He is the king and I a knight. He must have my loyalty by all the vows I took when I first put on these spurs."

"And your honor?" Cynan asked. "Do you believe in your heart that he is best for England and Wales? Do you believe that his claim to the throne is more just than his Lancastrian rival?"

Gareth paused, loathe to betray his oath as a knight but unable to admit he was Richard’s man at heart.

"Come back to Gwynedd with us."

"What?"

"You can hear the arguments for Henry Tudor from much more level-headed men than I. Besides, your father has not seen you in over two years."

"Do not tell me my father is involved in this nonsense?"

"Of course he is. You do not think he would give up the chance to put Wales ahead of England, do you?" Cynan asked

"I thought he had enough sense to live to see a grandson someday."

"You are talking like a coward," Cynan spit out.

"Cynan!" Bryant said sharply.

Cynan took a deep breath and visibly relaxed. "I am sorry, Gareth. No one could ever accuse you of cowardice. ‘Tis just that if you could only distance yourself from this court, you would see who the true ruler should be. Please, come back home with us."

"And I suppose if I do not, you two will stay here, constantly nipping at my heels, eh?"

"Aye, and Enid will surely give you no end of trouble for that!" laughed Bryant, referring to Cynan's wife.

Gareth chuckled as he shook his head at his friend. "I can only promise to think about it now."

"You do that," said Cynan, winking at Bryant. "For you never can tell when Richard will send you on another important mission of state." Gareth held open the doors to the hall for his friends. "Perhaps this time, he will send you to Scotland to borrow a sack of flour from James!" Gareth laughed good naturedly as he shoved his friend through the doorway, but remained outside in the cool evening air. He took a deep breath and tried to settle the jumble of information muddling his brain. His father caught up in a plot to unseat the king? His countrymen rallying to Richmond’s banner? His best friends taking part in secret meetings? He must be losing his head.

Gareth took another calming breath and prepared to face his king as if he knew nothing. Treason was definitely an easy way to lose your head.





Chapter 3




Elena crawled into the soft down bed she shared with Catherine. As she lay there shivering, waiting for the linen to warm, she repeated to herself like a litany, "’Tis better this way. The king has favored me. ‘Tis better this way." While she had mildly cared for Edgeford she felt nothing but fear for the earl. Lord Edgeford was handsome and devoted to her--had she not convinced him to follow her here to Middleham? The earl was another matter. Before she entered the bedroom, she had heard Margaret and Catherine talking about him.

"I never saw his first two wives—they may have been sickly women. But 'tis been a long-standing rumor that he's hard on women." In the darkened doorway, Elena shivered, remembering the earl's thick hands and meaty forearms.

"Do you think Elena will be happy with him?"

Elena heard a sigh she assumed was from Margaret. "I do not know, Catherine. He is a powerful earl. Elena always made it clear that a title was what she sought, so I hope being a countess will make up for whatever else she may have to bear."