The Bard's Daughter (A Gareth and Gwen Medieval Mystery) Read Online Free PDF Page A

have a little time. Lord Cadfael has said that he will not sully his son’s birth day tomorrow with a hanging.”
    “ A hanging?” Gwen had used the word with her father, more to shock him into making sense than because she’d really thought Cadfael would hang him. To hear the word come from Gruffydd’s mouth turned her stomach to stone. “What about payment of galanas ?”
    “ In certain instances, payment isn’t enough. You know that. It never has been. King Anarawd said as much at the Christmas feast when he called all his barons to him. He is specifically concerned about treason, but he has hung men for murder in the past.”
    “ How can that be?” Gwen said. “The law—”
    “ The law of Wales is clear,” Gruffydd said, “but the Normans encroach on us at every turn. If a lord doesn’t maintain a tight control on his people—and his lands—he might lose them.”
    Gwen ground her teeth. Norman law stated that a man must hang for the murder of another man, but the laws of Hywel Dda said that each individual person—each man, woman and child—had a value. In Wales, a man paid galanas —compensation—to the family of the one he’d killed.
    “ We are Welsh, not Norman!” Gwen said.
    “ Lord Cadfael feels that he must make an example of Meilyr, lest others equally lose their way.” Gruffydd touched one finger to Gwen’s shoulder and then dropped his hand. “We live in difficult times, Gwen. The old ways are no longer sufficient.”
    “ How can you say that?”
    “ You have until the day after tomorrow. Meilyr will stand before Cadfael then and receive his sentence.”
    As Gruffydd departed, Gwen sagged to her knees on the cold stone of the floor. She had two days.

Chapter Four
     
    G wen understood that it was often difficult for men to admit they were wrong, especially to a woman, so she didn’t follow Gruffydd when he left the pantry or press him further. She had never thought him an ignorant man, nor one who would willfully hang a man out of convenience. But it seemed he intended to do so this time. At least Cadfael had allowed him to search for evidence of a different killer.
    Gwen didn’t really know how to proceed, but she decided that her first task was to question those who knew Collen, under the principle that his death was not a random act of a complete stranger. Gwen didn’t have any idea how she would know when she learned something that would help her, but she didn’t know where else to start. She had to hope that she would recognize a clue when she saw it.
    Collen had traveled Wales with a small cart, which he’d parked in a lean-to attached to the stable. Either he or his servant, Ifan, who traveled with him, always guarded it. Ifan had come to Collen at the age of eight. He was eighteen now, and after ten years of working with Collen, was more like a son than a servant. His presence allowed Collen to work his deals without leaving his possessions unprotected. Ifan always slept in, on, or near the cart. In fact, when Gwen thought about it, she realized that the only time she’d seen him leave it was to use the latrine.
    As she expected, this morning he sat where he always did: on a short stool, whittling a piece of wood with a small knife. His hands were encased in thick gloves, as were those of every other man in the castle on this winter day.
    Gwen came to a halt in front of him. Now that she was here, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She managed to speak around it. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
    Ifan looked up at her, ducked his head once, and went back to his whittling, whistling tunelessly through his teeth. Even with only the brief glance, Gwen couldn’t miss the dirty tracks of tears on his cheeks. Not long ago, he’d been weeping.
    Gwen pursed her lips, feeling intensely uncomfortable, but she felt she must continue what she’d started. “Where were you last night?” Gwen tried to keep the question casual, hoping to deceive Ifan into thinking that