A week later, she had received word of his murder. In his sleep. By the hand of Ranulf Ombrier, the boy he had raised as a son.

Gwenllian watched the motionless figure in the practice yard, dim in the downpour. How happy she had been to read that letter. To learn that her husband, a stranger so much older than she, loved his foster-son so well. She had been jealous of the young Ranulf described in the letter, wishing that her own father had given her even a hint of affection before riding off on Crusade.

“Why do you think he came to Wales?” Her mother’s voice came to her from across the room, curious.

She drew her hand back inside, out of the warm rain, her elbow scraping lightly across cold stone. She could still feel his hand over hers, guiding her blade to hang suspended above his heart. He had lain helpless before her, the blade between them, an all-too-decipherable message writ large across his face.

Her eyes fixed on him for another long moment, droplets of water streaming from her fingers.

“Mercy,” she said, low enough so her mother could not hear.

Then she turned away and left him in the storm.

CHAPTER 4

––––––––

Had he known that only mud awaited him outside the castle walls, he would not have so chafed at being confined. Now, looking at the endless churned-up earth surrounding him, he almost wished to be back at that strange estate. He had not deigned to sit at high board, taking his meals in chambers or outside – wherever he willed, so long as it was not with the mistress of Ruardean.

Lady Eluned had certainly waited long enough to carry out her promise. At the end of her week, she had waited two more days and then sent word to him that he would leave on the morrow. Now he walked in the companionship of the guard she had provided. An escort, dragging him to Edward’s court.

Ranulf thought a hundred times of breaking away to flee. But without sword or shield or knowledge of where he was, escape was no better than death, even if it might be better than returning to court. They had not given him his weapons, and they traveled in lands that were unfamiliar to him. It could be Wales or Ireland or Gaul for all he knew, and bandits abounded in these less populated expanses of the realm.