The Renegade Merchant
to
Gareth. “Then perhaps you can help me, my lord. We’ve found another
body.”

Chapter Four
    Gareth
     
    “ T he error would be in the use of the
word ‘another’,” Gareth said as he and Gwen hustled after Cedric,
who, while slightly shorter than Gareth, had even longer legs.
Cedric’s rapid pace had Gareth regretting his winter cloak, which
he’d put on before leaving the monastery, but now at nearly noon
was causing him to sweat. They were past St. Dafydd’s Day, and the
sun gave more warmth and rose higher into the sky with every day
that passed. After an unusually cold winter, Gareth had feared that
spring would come late. But during the journey here from Aber,
spring had moved into full bloom, with green fields, flowers, and
rich pastures for the sheep. “We haven’t found the first body
yet—if there even is one.”
    “This man was strangled, if that helps.”
Cedric spoke from just ahead of Gareth, having apparently overheard
his comment since Gareth had been speaking English to Gwen out of
politeness. Speaking Welsh would have been easier, but he’d
traveled enough and had been on the receiving end of others
resorting to their native language in his presence as a way to
exclude him, that he wasn’t going to do the same to Cedric without
real cause. “There is no blood on him.”
    They’d left the alley and followed the
street that ran all around the town along the inside of the
palisade. Shrewsbury was canted at a northeasterly angle and
surrounded on three sides by the Severn River, which made it
resemble the shape of a flagon with a wide base and a narrow top.
The castle was located in the neck and guarded the entire city
behind it as it sat to the southwest in the protective curve of the
river. While the city was well over a half-mile wide from bank to
bank at its widest point, the land between the bends in the Severn
at its narrowest, where the castle sat, was only three hundred
yards wide.
    Stone gatehouses, made of the same red
sandstone used to build Shrewsbury Castle and Abbey, guarded
bridges across the Severn in case an enemy tried to cross the river
in force. Gareth could count on one hand the number of stone
fortresses that had been built by Welsh kings, but the English were
replacing more and more of their formerly wooden forts with stone
ones. From what he understood, however, Shrewsbury Castle had been
built in stone from the start—and had been one of the first stone
castles in England.
    For visitors, the city could be entered and
exited by three gates: the Welsh gate, which faced northwest across
the Severn and connected with a road that led west into Wales; the
English gate, which lay on the opposite side of the town and also
guarded a bridge across the Severn; and the northeastern gate by
the castle, which was the only access to the town by land.
    Residents of Shrewsbury could also enter and
leave the town by a southern gate, which opened onto the fields
that lay between the town and the curve of the river. Additionally,
many homes and establishments that abutted the city’s protective
palisade had private gates in them, which gave their owners
immediate access to the river. Although these created giant holes
in the town’s defenses, none of these exits allowed access to any
land beyond the river, unless someone chose to boat or swim across
it.
    “You have seen the body yourself, Cedric?”
Gareth said.
    Cedric nodded, even as he loped along at an
even faster pace. “His neck is purpled, but it doesn’t look to me
as if a man’s hands did it. I couldn’t see any bruising from
fingerprints. If I had to guess, I’d say the killer used rope or a
fishing line to do his work.”
    Gareth pressed his lips together, hiding a
smile. Cedric was very earnest in his manner, and the words had
spilled out of him in a rush, as if he’d been waiting for Gareth to
ask him about the condition of the body. If John Fletcher wasn’t
careful, he would find himself usurped by the younger
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