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“Dai saw the murderers?”

“He did. He was in the stable when they ran in demanding their horses.”

“And was he also there when Cadwaladr arrived?”

“Aye. He was the one to help Cadwaladr into his saddle.” Heledd gave a troubled sigh. “The thought that he assisted in the nobleman’s escape has not sat well with him.”

“But Dai did not know,” Rhiannon said. “He was simply fulfilling his duty.”

“So I’ve told him. Time and time again. No one believed Cadwaladr would order his men to do such a thing.”

Unbidden, Leif’s voice echoed through her mind. He claims he has been accused of a murder that he did not commit.

“Is it possible that he did not?”

Heledd stared at her. “There is no mistaking that the deadly weapon found with Prince Anarawd was Cadwaladr’s. And no mistaking that the coat of arms Dai saw on the tunics worn by the escaping men was also his.”

“Of course.” The evidence was clear. Too clear, in fact.

For the first time, Rhiannon allowed the seed of doubt Leif had planted to send out a tentative root. If Cadwaladr had wished to benefit from murdering Anarawd, surely he would have used a knife that did not immediately implicate him. And would he not have required his men to use stealth when leaving the castle rather than have them arrive at the stables and demand mounts?

“I saw one of the Vikings who sacked Bryn Eithin last week,” she said.

If Heledd had been surprised by her previous question, she was stunned by this apparent change in subject and news. “Where was he?”

“At the marketplace in Aberffraw and later on the beach.”

“Did he threaten you?”

Rhiannon thought back on her brief interaction with Leif. Her first response to his presence had been terror. She had been badly shaken by the memories that surfaced at his unexpected appearance. But the dread had dissipated by the time they had parted on the beach. Indeed, when she thought on him now, she felt no fear. Confusion and caution, most certainly. But not fear. “No. He begged my forgiveness.”

It appeared that she had shocked Heledd into silence. She gave the older lady a concerned look. “I offered him nothing more than a moment of my time. He was not the one who killed Father or Meurig. Neither did he injure Dai. Nevertheless, he appeared to own some portion of the blame and felt the weight of guilt.”

“And so he should.” Heledd had found her voice, and it rang with accusation. “Those heathens killed two good men, ransacked your home, and almost took the life of my husband. Even your betrothal to Cadwgan ap Gronw was ruined by their actions.”

Rhiannon looked away. “Cadwgan has renewed his offer of marriage. The king will make an official announcement of our betrothal when we return to Ynys Môn.”

Heledd gasped and clapped her hands. “That is wonderful news.”

“Yes.” It was. Truly. So why did the very thought of it make her feel ill?

“You are not happy?”

She should have known Heledd would sense her disquiet. They had been apart for two years, but they had been together for sixteen.

“I should be happy. There is nothing . . .” Rhiannon clasped her hands together tightly and began again. “There is no reason I should not be.”

“And yet?”

Rhiannon swallowed hard. “And yet, the thought of marrying Cadwgan, of living in Dyffryn Clwyd, away from everyone I know and love, away from the ocean . . . it fills me with dread.”

“Rhiannon.” Heledd’s eyes were now filled with concern. “It is normal for a new bride to feel anxious about the future.”

“I understand that,” Rhiannon said. “Gwenllian’s nervousness on the eve of her wedding had her fluttering around like a caged butterfly.”

“And you do not feel thus?”

“No.” She took a deep breath. “Tell me this: if Dai had told you that upon your marriage you would move far from everything and everyone familiar, would it have affected your outlook as your wedding drew near?”