Page 67

Sleep did not come easily for Rhiannon, and when it did come, it was filled with disjointed dreams. Scenes from her time at the river with Leif blended with scenes from the banquet with Cadwgan. Echoes of Leif’s request for her help contrasted with Cadwgan’s silent disregard. By the time morning light seeped through her bedchamber’s shutters, overwhelming dread over her forthcoming marriage had her rising early to avoid a continuation of the nightmares.

Wishing that she could take her heartache and concerns to the seashore, Rhiannon dressed quickly and made her way to the stable. Heledd would be almost impossible to find in a castle this large, but Dai would likely be with the horses. If she could not draw healing from listening to the waves, she would do it through the steadying presence of an old friend.

The castle was quiet. Rhiannon’s slippered feet made barely a sound as she followed the dimly lit passage to the tower. Descending the spiral staircase, she entered the inner courtyard. The gray light of early morning painted the ground with shadows. Somewhere beyond the walls, a cockerel crowed. The door to the south tower opened, and a maid exited carrying a bucket. She started toward the well in the outer courtyard. Rhiannon waited until she disappeared before cutting across the inner courtyard in her wake.

The smell of baking bread filled the air, and a thin spiral of smoke rose from the stone oven near the kitchen. Two guards exited the guardhouse and headed toward the castle gate, and a stableboy ran the short distance between the stable and the smithy. The familiar ringing of metal on metal was absent, but the blacksmith was undoubtedly stoking the fire.

Drawing her shawl more tightly around her shoulders, Rhiannon crossed to the stable, opened the door, and slipped inside. She pulled the door closed behind her. A candle burned on a shelf nearby, augmenting the pale light coming in through the shuttered windows. The air, warmer than it had been outside, smelled of hay and animals. An occasional nicker and the shuffle of horses’ hooves echoed through the vast space.

A young man, his hair disheveled and his face pockmarked, came out of the nearest stall, carrying a pitchfork. Upon catching sight of Rhiannon, he bowed. “Mornin’, miss,” he said. “Can I ’elp you?”

“Is Dai in the stable this morning?” Rhiannon asked.

“Yes, miss. ’E’s takin’ care of Prince Cadell’s ’orse in the far corner.” He shifted anxiously. “Shall I get ’im fer you?”

“Thank you, but there’s no need.” She smiled. “I do not wish to interrupt your work. Now that I know where to look, I shall find him without difficulty.”

The young man transferred his pitchfork to the other hand and bowed again. “Very good, miss.”

Grateful that her eyes had adjusted to the dim light, she followed the narrow walkway between the horses’ stalls toward the faint, melodious whistle coming from the other side of the stable.

“I believe you whistled that very same song at the start of every day at Bryn Eithin,” she said as she approached an open stall.

Dai’s head popped up from behind an enormous black stallion, and she saw his teeth flash in a crooked smile.

“Well, now. There’s no use changin’ a good thing, is there?”

Rhiannon laughed. Coming to the stable had been a good idea. Already, she felt the comfort that came from being with someone who cared about her.

“Not at all. Although, I seem to remember Heledd complaining that your selection of songs was rather limited.”

“The ’orses like the ones I know just fine. Besides, when am I supposed to learn new ones?”

It was true. Dai had no opportunity to listen to the minstrels perform in the castle. And he likely had little free time to go into the tref.

“You’re kept busy here, then?”

“Aye. Too busy. Especially when there’s important visitors.”

It was the opening she’d needed. Heledd had told her that Dai had seen the men who had fled the castle wearing Cadwaladr’s tabards. It was possible that he could provide her with the type of information Leif was seeking. “Was it bad the night Prince Anarawd died?” she asked.

He stilled. “What has Heledd told you?”

“Only that you were the one who saw the men leave the castle.”

“I helped them escape,” he said bitterly.

Rhiannon reached out to touch his arm. “Dai, you were doing your job. And doing it well, I might add.”

The stallion snorted, and Dai ran a calloused hand along his shoulder. “I should’ve known they were up to no good,” he said. “They demanded the ’orses be readied right away and cared little about the disturbance they caused.”

“They caused a disturbance?”

“Any time someone comes into the stable shoutin’ orders, it unsettles the ’orses. Doin’ it in the middle of the night only makes it worse.”

Rhiannon frowned. Dai’s description of the men’s getaway made no sense whatsoever. Surely the men guilty of Anarawd’s murder would wish to slip out of the castle with as little noise or fuss as possible. Indeed, had stealth been their aim, they would have had saddled horses waiting for them outside the gates.

“Did you recognize them?” she asked.