The Unlikely Spy by Sarah Woodbury Page A

Iolo so far, but when
after another pause he didn’t have another question on the tip of
his tongue, Gareth said, “You had hopes of something different from
Gryff at one time?”
    “I brought him into my business after a
chance meeting on the road. He was looking for a trade, and I had
need of an apprentice. One thing led to another. I took him on
permanently.”
    “When did he and Madlen marry?” Gareth
said.
    At first Gareth wasn’t sure Iolo had heard
the question, since he didn’t respond right away, but then he said,
“They weren’t together long, a few months only.”
    “Please describe exactly how you and Gryff
met,” Gareth said.
    “My cart was stuck in the mud,” Iolo said.
“Gryff helped me to become unstuck, stayed around to help that day
and the next, and then stayed permanently. His circumstances had
taken a turn for the worse after he’d had a falling out in his
previous situation.”
    It was a common story, even up to the part
where Iolo and Gryff had met by chance. Two strangers could strike
up a friendship or form a business relationship if they journeyed
together. A trader such as Iolo, who might return to his home
village once every few months, would have long experience turning
strangers into friends, and for Madlen to marry Gryff made sense,
since they were together all day every day.
    “I see,” Gareth said. “When did you last see
Gryff?”
    “Last night before I retired,” Iolo said
promptly. “We had a great deal to do and a short amount of time to
do it in. As you can see, Madlen and I are run off our feet. Gryff
was supposed to have arranged the fabrics last night, not to
mention that he should have slept in the stall to guard it.” Iolo
put out a hand to Gareth. “Not that I am in any way criticizing the
watchfulness of your men, my lord. But a man has to protect what
little he owns.”
    “We understand,” Rhun said. “What happened
next?”
    “I went to the latrine and returned to find
him gone. I didn’t see Gryff again.”
    “When did you arrive in Aberystwyth?” Rhun
said.
    “We’ve been in the area for two weeks. We
arrived in Aberystwyth three days ago to set up the stall.” Iolo
leaned forward, looking at Rhun. “My lord—all these questions—what
is this really about?”
    “As I said,” Prince Rhun said, “we have
questions about how Gryff came to be in the millpond. That is
all.”
    Iolo glanced at Gareth before looking back
to the prince. It occurred to Gareth all of a sudden that Iolo had
been speaking so openly to Rhun not out of respect but because he
thought him a soft touch. Iolo seemed more wary of Gareth, never
mind that so far they had no indication he’d done anything
wrong.
    “We are simply making inquiries. Thank you
for your time,” Gareth said.
    “Please let me know when the body is set to
be buried and where.” Iolo gestured to where Madlen sat sobbing.
“Madlen is suffering in this matter.”
    “That reminds me—” Gareth had been saving
the questioning of Madlen until the end, “—we need Madlen to return
Gryff’s purse to us, or at least allow us to view its
contents.”
    Madlen’s sobs ceased in mid-breath, proving
that she’d been listening to every word that had passed between her
uncle and Gareth and Rhun.
    Iolo said, “What?”
    “Before Madlen arrived at the chapel where
Gryff’s body lay,” Gareth said, “Gryff had a small purse at his
waist. After she left, it was gone.”
    Iolo’s cheeks grew ruddy, his initial
surprise turning to anger. He glared at his niece. “Is this
true?”
    Madlen gaped at the men, all of whom were
looking at her. Tears were still wet on her cheeks but no new ones
fell. Her hand went to her heart, and her breathing quickened. “I
don’t-I don’t know—”
    Rhun made a gesture to indicate that he
would like to come around the table and enter the tent. “If I
may?”
    Iolo shrugged. “Of course, my lord.” His
voice was calm again, and Gareth might have thought him