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“I see.” In actuality, she did not, but it seemed an appropriate response. Particularly as all her energies were directed toward calming the nausea currently threatening to overcome her.

Their horses entered the outer courtyard with a clatter of hooves. Two stableboys came running out of the stable to greet them. Hywel dismounted, handed off his reins to one of the boys, and turned to assist Rhiannon. When her feet were on the ground once more, he stepped away.

“I likely shared more than I should,” he said. “But you are strong, Rhiannon. Stronger than Gwenllian, I think. You must know that violence and death are integrally woven into our history and will undoubtedly follow us into the future. I would wish to lessen it. Indeed, when I am king, I will make every effort to lessen it, but the very nature of men makes it seem an almost impossible task.”

“Not impossible.” Rhiannon refused to believe it. “Surely there is more goodness and truth in the world than there is evil and lies.”

“I would like to think so.” He looked toward the south tower, where Deheubarth’s royal family resided. “And though it may take effort, those things are most certainly worth seeking out.”

Chapter 27

Leif waited until the old groom disappeared over the rise before emerging from the trees. Rhiannon and Hywel were long gone, probably within the castle by now. Watching her ride away had been harder than it should have been. He clenched his fists. She was to marry Cadwgan, and no matter how much he wished it otherwise, there was nothing he could do to prevent it.

“Well?” Knud approached, drawing their horses behind him. “She did not bring guards with her, which I consider a hopeful sign. What did she say?”

“He’s not worthy of her.”

Knud gave him a perplexed look. “Who is not worthy of whom?”

“Cadwgan,” Leif said, unfurling his fingers only to clench them again. “Owain Gwynedd intends to announce Cadwgan’s betrothal to Rhiannon upon their return to Ongullsey.”

“Then I am very sorry for her.” When Leif made no response, Knud fixed him with a penetrating look. “Tell me you have not developed feelings for that young lady.”

Leif reached for the reins of his mount. “Come. We must quit this place.”

Knud refused to relinquish them. “Tell me,” he demanded.

“There is nothing to say. We spoke only a few minutes. I asked her to search for any information that might help shed light upon who murdered Anarawd, but she had made no commitment to do so before you issued your warning call.” He shrugged. “You saw her leave with Hywel. She will be with Cadwgan later. It is unlikely that she will make contact with me again.”

“I agree. It seems improbable.” He continued to keep a tight grasp on the reins. “Now back to the other matter. The one you are so pointedly ignoring.”

Leif grunted irritably. “There are definite disadvantages to having you with me.”

“I daresay.” Knud was completely unperturbed. “But as my whistle likely saved your life and Rhiannon’s reputation, I do have my uses.”

Leif sighed. There was no fight left in him. “Very well. I have never before experienced the sense of awareness I feel when I am with Rhiannon. When she looks at me, I have an unaccountable desire to stand a little taller, to strive to be more noble, more loyal, more true.”

“That answers my question well enough,” he said, his expression uncommonly serious. “But surely you are not—”

Leif raised his hand to stop him before he continued. “You have nothing to fear. Not only does she despise all Vikings, but she is to marry the man who wishes me dead.”

Knud nodded. “I am glad you remain rational enough to see the impossibility of the situation.”

“That is the best counsel you can offer?”

“I did not realize that you wished for my guidance.” Finally relinquishing Leif’s reins, Knud mounted his horse and waited for Leif to do the same. “My advice is simple,” he said, wheeling his horse around. “Ride away. And as soon as we reach the coast, sail away. If you are fortunate, your good sense will return by the time we arrive in Dyflin.”

As much as he wished it otherwise, Leif knew that Knud’s recommendation would never work. If the last two years had proven anything, it was that he could not simply forget Rhiannon.

He looked up at the seemingly impenetrable castle walls, the first whisper of defeat entering his heart. Were the secrets held within not for him and Knud to uncover after all? He pushed the discouraging thought away.

“We shall stay in the tref one more day,” he said. “If we learn nothing new by sunset on the morrow, we shall return to Dyflin, and Cadwaladr shall be required to face the consequences of whatever occurred at Dinefwr Castle on his own.”

Rhiannon sat on the edge of her bed, the open wooden jewelry box on her knee. Three items lay within. Each of them had been her mother’s and carried with them treasured memories. In her hand, she held a fourth piece. The only one that was hers alone. The only one that spoke to her soul. Closing her eyes, a vision of Leif’s face as he’d pressed the pendant into her hands appeared. Insisting that he take it back had proven futile. But what was she to do with it? There was no doubt that Cadwgan would recognize the stunning pendant should he see it, and the last thing she wished to do was rouse the ire of a man who had so violently sought vengeance upon another. No matter its beauty, it would have to remain hidden.

With shaking hands, Rhiannon slipped the chain over her head. The silver wave lay against her blue gown, glistening in the candlelight. She brushed it with her fingertips, and then she lifted it, tucking it beneath the layers of fabric at her neck. She felt the chain slide against her skin, the pendant cold against her chest. Taking an unsteady breath, she took the brooch from the jewelry box and pinned it to the front of her gown. Tonight, she would have the strength of the sea and the love of her mother with her. She prayed it would be enough.

A knock sounded at the door. With a start, she closed the lid on the jewelry box and slid it beneath the blanket on the bed. “Come in,” she called.