When he entered the queen's service, he'd yearned to ask her about Becket, but he never dared, and only once had she made mention of the tragic feud that brought such grief to both her husband and his archbishop, remarking cryptically that she'd have given a great deal to witness the first meeting between Henry and Becket in the afterlife. Justin had been shocked enough to blurt out, "In Heaven?" for he'd taken it for granted that King Henry would have to endure centuries in Purgatory to repent his earthly sins. Eleanor had looked at him and laughed, reading his thoughts with her usual ease. "Actually," she'd murmured, "I was envisioning them both in Hell," and then laughed again at the stunned expression on his face.
Llewelyn's sarcasm had brought that memory back, and much to his own surprise, Justin found himself telling the Welshman about the queen's sardonic comment. He could not say what prompted him to do so, for he took very seriously his responsibilities as the queen's man, and not the least of them was utter discretion. But Llewelyn did not seem startled by Eleanor's acerbic opinion of the archbishop. "We have a saying in Welsh," he said with a grin, "Po agosaf i' r eglwys, pellaf o baradwys. Nearest to church, furthest from God."
Justin sensed that here was another who did not venerate St Thomas and stifled an urge to defend the martyred archbishop. Instead, he indulged his curiosity and asked Llewelyn if it were true that he'd begun his rebellion against Davydd at the green age of fourteen.
"That is not as remarkable as it sounds. In Wales, a youth reaches his legal majority at fourteen rather than England's twenty-one." Justin caught the glint of laughter in the Welshman's eyes even before Llewelyn added blandly, "We must mature faster than you English do."
"I am sure the Welsh have manifold virtues," Justin said amiably. "It is very mature, for certes, to choose a rendezvous that is right under Davydd's nose."
"I was looking out for your best interests." Llewelyn tried and almost succeeded in sounding reproachful. "It is well known that the English get lost with alarming ease, mayhap because they are so often venturing into lands not theirs." He did not wait for Justin's retort, glancing around the silent churchyard as if to acknowledge this was neither the ideal place nor the time for verbal jousting. "Why did you ask to meet me, Iestyn?"
"Whilst I was in Chester, I was able to unearth enough evidence to connect Thomas de Caldecott to the robbery and killings. Regrettably he got himself murdered ere I could confirm the identity of his ally."
"Very unsporting of him," Llewelyn agreed. "You never did answer my question: who you think killed him. I'd naturally suspect my uncle Davydd, but even he would not have made such a bloody botch of it. What about this ally? Who do you suspect? The Lady Emma?"
Justin could not conceal his surprise. "What… you have second sight?"
"So I was right?" Llewelyn sounded surprised, too, "I suppose twenty years of marriage to Davydd could drive any woman to lunacy. But what sort of proof do you have?"
"Enough to fit into a thimble with space to spare," Justin admitted and explained why he harbored suspicions of Emma, concluding with his futile hunt in Chester for Oliver and Molly's "phantom." Llewelyn listened without interruption, his expression intent. Justin was coming to respect the Welshman's intellect, and he was gratified that Llewelyn seemed to take his conjecturing seriously.
"I see what you mean about the thimble," Llewelyn said, after a reflective silence. "But if there is not enough to convict the lady, there is enough to justify further investigation. Why are you telling me all this, though? Mind you, I appreciate your generosity. I am just curious about what prompted it."
"My queen's interest is in recovering the ransom. There'll come a time when she seeks to punish the offenders, but not yet. If I cannot find proof of Davydd's treachery, or if evil befalls me here in Wales, it will be up to you to disprove Davydd's accusations. I want to make sure that you have the weapons you'll need to do it. And remember… if I die and you let Davydd win, I'll be haunting you until you take your last breath,"
The curve of Llewelyn's mouth hinted at a suppressed smile. "I could become right fond of you, English," he said, "at least until the ransom is found!"
~*~
Justin had never seen Rhun look so cheerful. He'd lost that invalid's pallor, the spring was back in his step, and his smile was not far from the surface. He was feeling well enough to earn his keep and was working in the stables now. He'd always had a way with horses, he confided, but he'd never been given the opportunity at Rhuddlan. Justin had come to talk to the boy about returning to Davydd's service. He was beginning to suspect, though, that Rhun had other ideas.
"If you want to come back to Rhuddlan," he said, "we think it can be done. I must stay out of it, for Davydd would deny you just to spite me. I have talked to the Lady Angharad, and she is willing to approach the Lady Emma on your behalf."
Rhun was already shaking his head. "I thank you for your kindness, but I have no wish to serve Lord Davydd again. Master Sion's brother has said he thinks I have the makings of a good groom. And…" He paused, lowering his voice conspiratorially although none were within earshot. "I do not think Lord Davydd will rule Gwynedd much longer. God willing, Lord Llewelyn will prevail and the Welsh will rejoice."
Justin agreed with him that Davydd was living on borrowed time and probably knew it, which accounted for his fear-driven rages. His treachery Justin was inclined to attribute to Davydd's deceitful nature, remembering that Davydd had originally obtained power by ambushing his brother Hywel. The Welsh, he decided, could give Cain and Abel lessons in fraternal rivalry. But then, so could King Richard and his jealousy-ridden brother John.
"Master de Quincy…" Some of Rhun's newfound confidence was ebbing away. "I have not returned to the ambush site. I did not want to see where the others died. A few days past, one of the grooms asked me where it had happened, and I told him as best I could, He came back later and was sorely vexed with me, saying I'd misspoke, that the ambush had taken place several miles down the road. He talked about the burned hay-wains being near a copse of alder trees, but that is not how I remember it. In my mind's eye, I see a bend in the road and them waiting for us as we made the turn. Now my memory could be faulty, I suppose…"
"I suppose it could," Justin agreed. But he did not believe that, and neither did Rhun.
~*~
Justin returned to Rhuddlan, planning to set out at first light to search for the hidden wool. He understood now why all previous searches had been in vain. Davydd's men had scoured the area where the burned wagons had been found, as had Llewelyn's men and Justin himself. But the ambush had actually occurred miles down the road, where the wool was likely concealed, and the bodies of the men were then loaded into the empty wagons and driven to the spot where they were burned. He was guessing that Rhun had told him first out of a sense of gratitude. The lad had other loyalties, though. Could he find the wool ere Rhun confided in Sion's brother and word was passed on to Llewelyn ab Iorwerth?
His plans were disrupted, though, almost as soon as he'd ridden into the castle bailey. He was leading his stallion into the stables when Sion slipped in after him with news that changed everything. The Lady Emma was intending to visit the holy well of St Gwenfrewi at Treffynnon, Sion reported, a journey that struck him as suspicious for several reasons. Gwenfrewi, the patron saint of virgins, was much revered by the faithful and the healing power of her holy well was so renowned that King Richard himself had made a pilgrimage there before setting out on his ill-fated crusade. It was close by Basingwerk and Justin had found time on each of his abbey stays to pay his respects to the little Welsh saint who'd died in defense of her chastity so many centuries ago. He saw nothing odd, therefore, in Emma's pilgrimage to such a celebrated shrine, but Sion quickly enlightened him.