The Unexpected Ally by Sarah Woodbury Page A

into Erik’s demise?” Owain said, coming back around to
their first topic of conversation. Hywel was seeing only now that
his father rarely forgot anything. Beneath his expansive gestures,
his hearty laugh, and his fearsome temper lay the mind that had
kept him on the throne of Gwynedd for the last ten years. Except
for Cadwaladr, until Rhun’s death, no lord had challenged his
fitness to stay there. Even more than a war, Hywel hoped this peace
conference would show Gwynedd’s doubting barons that the Owain
they’d followed all this time was back.
    “Yes.”
    King Owain nodded. “A good use of him, since
he is injured. I imagine if he didn’t have an investigation to
lead, he would be wanting to lead your teulu in this fight
against Madog.”
    “He most definitely would. In fact, he would
see it as his duty, and I would be hard pressed to dissuade
him.”
    “Then it is good that we take the time to
watch and wait. Madog isn’t going anywhere, and I intend to wrest
concessions from him at this conference that will leave no doubt as
to who got the better of the negotiations.” King Owain gave a sharp
nod. “I’m counting on you to stand with me in this.”
    “Of course, Father. I have no problem biding
my time and lulling Madog into a false sense of security.”
    Owain turned one more time to look at his
son. “Do not think that a decision to accept Abbot Rhys’s overtures
of peace is an indication that I feel Madog’s offense against you
is unimportant.”
    “I know that.” Hywel canted his head as he
studied his father. “I came here with you with fire in my heart
against Madog. But perhaps this fight isn’t in our best interests
any more than it is in Madog’s. While revenge would be sweet in the
short term, I can see the benefit of watching and waiting for the
right moment to strike.”
    King Owain guffawed. “You are learning, my
son.” Then he sobered. “And then we will strike.” Owain
clapped one fist into the palm of the other hand. “Never say that
Gwynedd doesn’t finish what it starts. I swear to you now that one
way or another, we will bring Madog to heel. He may not want to
fight me, but that does not mean his treachery will go
unanswered.”

Chapter Nine
    Gareth
     
    “W hat’s your
opinion of coincidences?” Conall climbed down the ladder and moved
to stand beside Gareth to look down with him at the coins as they
lay in the mud. “It seems strangely coincidental that Erik is
killed on the very day we arrive at St. Asaph.”
    Gareth scoffed. “They happen, but I don’t
trust them.”
    “Nor do I.” Conall gazed around the paddock,
his eyes searching. “If I had been more mindful of them in
Shrewsbury, I might not have been captured.” He glanced at Gareth
out of the corner of his eye. “But then, we would not have met, and
I am wondering more and more if what we might see as a chance
meeting was destined from the start.”
    Gareth grunted. “It is at times hard to
discern the difference between coincidence, chance, and
destiny.”
    Conall turned to look directly at Gareth. “I
attribute the fact that I live to your stubborn refusal to accept
coincidence. If I haven’t thanked you properly for my life, I
apologize. Words are inadequate to convey what I owe you.”
    Gareth made a dismissive motion with his
hand, but Conall wasn’t done.
    “If you need anything of me, you have only
to ask.”
    Gareth swallowed hard, realizing that
Conall’s reasons for staying in Wales might have more to do with
the life debt he felt he owed Gareth than curiosity or possible
diplomacy with Gwynedd. In retrospect, that Conall was too injured
for a sea journey was a rather feeble excuse for not returning to
Ireland. “I understand the debt you feel you owe me,” he found
himself saying, matching Conall’s grave tone, “and I understand why
you feel it, but I did my duty. Finding you in that mill was coincidental.”
    “You were at the mill because you believed
the villains had made