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The door opened, and Heledd appeared. “I hope you don’t mind me stopping by, Miss Rhiannon. I know you’re expected in the great hall within the hour, but I’m only now leaving my responsibilities with the linens.” Her smile was hesitant. “Unless you’ve employed the services of a castle maid, I wondered if you’d like me to dress your hair before you go down to eat.”

Rhiannon rose to her feet. Closing the distance between them, she put her arms around the kindly older lady. “Bless you, Heledd. I should have known you would think to come, particularly when I have been missing my mother more than usual.” She pulled back. “If your fingers still contain the magic they held years ago, I would be most grateful to have you take care of my tangled mane.”

Heledd laughed softly. “With no sea breezes here to snarl your hair, I believe I can manage.”

Rhiannon stepped toward the chair, pausing when she realized that Heledd had yet to move. She turned. Heledd stood staring at her, her face ashen.

“Heledd? Are you well?”

“Your . . . your brooch. I did not expect . . . Forgive me, it’s simply . . .”

Rhiannon smiled. “It is well, Heledd. My mother’s jewelry box and pieces have been returned.”

“How is it possible?” Heledd’s shock mirrored the feelings Rhiannon had experienced only hours before.

“The Viking I told you of—the one at the market in Aberffraw—he had it delivered to me.”

Heledd placed her workworn hands upon her cheeks. “Is there more to this tale, or is it truly one of God’s miracles?”

“I think it fair to claim both,” Rhiannon said. Reaching for one of Heledd’s hands, she drew her to the bed. “Sit here.” She pulled the box out from under the blanket and handed it to her. “I shall tell you what I can.”

Heledd listened while Rhiannon told of her unexpected meeting with Leif in the outer courtyard the day before and of the jewelry box delivery today. Omitting all mention of the pendant Leif had given her, she recounted her decision to meet him at the river.

“What were you thinking, Miss Rhiannon?” Heledd said. “With no escort, anything could have happened to you.”

“I acted impulsively. I grant you, it was foolish, but Leif had done nothing to earn my distrust.”

“He killed your father!” Heledd gasped.

Rhiannon stiffened. “Leif has no blood on his hands.”

“How can you say such a thing?”

“The Vikings who killed my father and Meurig and wounded Dai may have arrived on the same boat as Leif, but they are very different men. Leif has begged my forgiveness for an act over which he had little control.” She looked away as the memory of Leif’s pleas on the beach echoed through her mind. “He claims to have discovered Christianity, and I . . . I am inclined to believe him.”

Heledd stared at her in stunned silence. Rhiannon met her look, knowing that without hearing from Leif himself, Heledd’s attitude toward the Norseman was unlikely to soften.

“Why is he here?”

“Cadwaladr is in Ireland. He maintains that he is innocent of Anarawd’s murder. Leif has come to uncover the truth.”

“What right does a Viking have to determine such things? There is proof enough of Cadwaladr’s guilt,” Heledd said. “His knife and tabards have been found.”

“Leif is inclined to believe someone else made it appear that Cadwaladr committed the crime.” For the first time since the conversation began, Rhiannon saw a hint of uncertainty in Heledd. She pressed her slim advantage. “You know Prince Cadell well. Did he wish to rule Deheubarth enough to kill his brother?”

“Prince Cadell had no desire to rule,” Heledd said firmly. “He has always been the quieter of the brothers, glad to have Anarawd be in the position of leadership. Indeed, I have never seen him look so lost as he has this past fortnight.”

“What of William Montgomery. I heard tell he was here the night of the murder.”

“He was here, but he was in his cups that night and was assisted to his chamber in a drunken stupor whilst Prince Anarawd was yet in the great hall.”

“Could he have killed the prince in his drunkenness?”

Heledd shrugged. “I daresay such a thing is possible when in that state, but to have two men leave wearing Cadwaladr’s tabards at just the right time would have been beyond him.”

“What of Hywel?” Rhiannon despised herself for asking, but in fairness, she must.

“He, Cadwgan, and Cadwaladr all appeared in great spirits that night. They left the great hall with Prince Anarawd and each retired to their respective chambers.”