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She tapped Bleddyn on the shoulder, and when he turned and saw Catrin, he moved aside and silently let her through. Catrin slid past, looked across the small clearing, and came to a stumbling halt. Rhys was standing between two horses. Castan was waiting patiently to his right, and to his left, a tall, black stallion with a white star on his forehead stood nervously surveying the crowd.
“Seren,” she whispered brokenly.
Her horse turned, his ears twitching and his nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air. Rhys followed Seren’s gaze and saw her. Instantly, he let go of the rope attached to Seren’s bridle, and the horse trotted across the distance between them. All around her, the men backed up a few paces, leaving her standing alone as Seren buried his nose in her hair.
“Oh, Seren!” She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning her head against him. “How I have missed you.”
She heard the men’s astonished whispers behind her but did not look up until she sensed Rhys beside her. Wiping away her tears with the backs of her hands, she turned to face him. “How did you . . . ? Where did you find . . . ? How can I ever thank . . . ?” She managed a choked laugh. “I cannot seem to formulate a complete sentence.”
Rhys gave her an understanding smile. “I will answer all your questions in due time, but for now, you need only know that the Duke of Bedford was attempting to leave Wales with belongings that were not his own. We relieved him of your horse and sent everything else back to Beaumaris.”
Catrin clenched her fists as memories of Aldwin’s concerns regarding the nobleman’s visits to the castle stables filled her mind. “I did not trust him, but neither did I believe him willing to stoop to stealing my horse.”
“I fear there is more.” He ran his fingers through his hair and glanced at Seren grimly. “Seren has been injured.”
“Injured?” Shock left her trembling, and she placed a shaking hand on Seren’s neck. “How is he injured?”
“When Seren refused to obey the duke’s commands, the duke took a whip to him.”
“No. Please, no.” At Catrin’s horror-filled voice, Seren nickered softly.
Rhys took her arm. “You do not need to view the wounds if it is too difficult.”
“I must.” She swallowed hard. “Will you show me?”
He guided her to Seren’s right, where three long welts ran the length of the horse’s shoulder. “This shoulder received the worst of it,” he said, “but there’s an angry cut on his rump, and his hind legs have both been sliced.”
A large fly landed on the dried blood on Seren’s thigh, and he brushed it away with a flick of his tail.
Catrin covered her mouth to muffle her cry. “I should never have left him.”
“Catrin, this is not your doing. This is the work of a vicious, grasping man, and I swear that he will never go near you or Seren again.”
Catrin bit her lip. She wanted to believe him, but surely this last act had exposed the depth of the Duke of Bedford’s avarice and cruelty. Would he truly be content to walk away from the horse he had coveted, the woman who had spurned him, and the man who had bested him, with no thought of retribution? “But what if—?”
“Never again,” he said firmly.
She placed a gentle hand on Seren’s back, and he flinched. “I’m so terribly sorry, boy,” she said, her tears beginning anew.
Rhys ran his hand down the stallion’s neck. “He is strong. Give him a few days for the pain to subside and the wounds to heal. After that, he will be ready for one of your long rides together.”
She nodded numbly, and he gave her an encouraging smile.
“Come.” He handed her the rope attached to Seren’s bridle. “We shall take our horses inside. Enid is not a horsewoman, but she is skilled with healing. She’s already at work making a salve for Seren’s cuts and has promised to bring it to the stable when she has it ready.”
The men parted silently as Rhys and Catrin guided their horses toward the stable. Bleddyn met them at the doors. He was panting, a pail of water in his hand.
“Nerys told me where you’d left it,” he said, raising the bucket slightly. “I thought mayhap you’d want fresh water for tending to your stallion’s wounds.”
“It was good of you to go after it for me,” Catrin said, touched by his thoughtfulness.
He nodded absently, his gaze fastened on Seren once more. “I believe that’s the most magnificent stallion I’ve ever seen.”
Catrin could not help but smile at the wonder in his voice. “I feel likewise. And when he is well again, you shall see how he runs.”
“Believe me, lad”—Rhys was already leading Castan inside—“watching Catrin and Seren race the length of Newborough Beach is a sight to behold.”
Bleddyn’s face lit up. “So I imagine.”