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“I will personally hold you accountable for that promise, Glyn,” Rhys said, wanting nothing more than to reach over the table and strangle his brother. “Catrin’s safety depends upon it.”
Glyn swallowed hard, and Rhys hoped his steely tone had communicated just how serious this was.
“I understand, Marshal.”
Catrin gave Rhys’s fingers a gentle squeeze. “I thank you, Glyn. And perhaps you or Marshal Gwilym would be good enough to explain the part I would play in this venture.”
Glyn looked at Gwilym, who immediately stepped in. “Are you acquainted with Henry ‘Hotspur’ Percy?”
“I have never met the man, but I have heard of him. He’s well-known for his military and diplomatic efforts under King Richard.”
“He is indeed. But when Henry Bolingbroke challenged Richard for the crown, Hotspur—as he is known—opted to place his support behind him. It was a bold move that has paid handsomely. In exchange for his allegiance, the newly crowned Henry IV lavishly rewarded Hotspur with lands and offices. One of the offices that Hotspur currently holds is High Sheriff of Flintshire.”
Catrin’s eyes widened. “My mother’s family is from Flint.”
“So I was told. And your father is a well-respected English nobleman, whose name would grant you an audience with Hotspur.”
“Are you quite mad?” Rhys exploded. “Who knows how Hotspur would react to her arrival?”
“Hotspur is a diplomat,” Gwilym said. “And he wishes to be the one man who Henry looks to in all important matters of state. If he believes Henry’s decision to outlaw the Tudor brothers was influenced by the Duke of Bedford, Hotspur will do all he can to discredit him. He may even go as far as to persuade Henry to act in a way that is counter to the duke’s request.
“Catrin could act as our liaison, taking our demands to Henry via Hotspur while remaining protected by her family connections.”
“’Tis too dangerous,” Rhys said.
“Surely taking a message to Hotspur is far less dangerous than attempting to overtake Conwy Castle,” Catrin said.
“If Gwilym and I were in the castle, we would be powerless to protect you.” That truth alone would be torturous enough to keep him from ever sleeping again.
“She would have an escort of trusted men,” Gwilym said. “Mayhap Maredudd could go with her.”
“Maredudd is on Anglesey,” Rhys pointed out with as much calm as he could muster.
“I sent word to him from Conwy, telling him he was needed here.”
“Truly, Gwilym.” Rhys clenched his fists. “Who is in charge here?”
Gwilym gave him a stony glare. “If I did not abide by or have respect for the answer to that question, the suggestions I have offered for removing our names from a death warrant would have already been implemented.”
Rhys released a deep breath. His emotions were getting the best of him. He was giving more thought to Catrin facing Hotspur than to all his men taking on Conwy Castle’s guards. “My apologies. I know better.”
Gwilym gave a resentful grunt. “So I should hope.”
Rhys tried to focus on the immediate crisis rather than those that might never arise. If they did not clear their names, he and Gwilym would hang from the gallows or spend the rest of their lives in hiding. But with no existing leverage to use against Henry, they would have to devise something of their own—something of sufficient worth to counterbalance allowing two of the English king’s greatest enemies to go free. Surely it would have to be something as significant as a castle.
“What time will the English guards leave for mass?” he asked.
The corners of Gwilym’s mouth quirked upward. “The service begins at noon.”
Rhys nodded. “Then we’d best discuss how much damage a group of novice carpenters could accomplish while they are gone.”
Chapter 31
Rhys sat astride Castan, waiting and watching. From his position at the edge of the woodland, he could clearly see Conwy’s town wall, and at this early hour on a Sunday, the north gate was quiet. It was a day of rest for the merchants, and most of the townspeople would be preparing for mass.
At his right, Gwilym shifted in his saddle. “Do you see any sign of Glyn or Elis?”
Rhys shook his head. Upon their arrival at the outskirts of town, Glyn had left the group of forty Welshmen in the woods and had gone to find his brother and the other carpenters who had agreed to help the warriors get into the castle. He had been absent for over an hour, and Rhys could feel his tension rising.
