Page 15 of Insurrection (Guard of Six #2)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

M adelaina walked right into a tribunal.

“Who was that man?”

The demand came from Ivor, standing in her father’s darkened apothecary shop. Madelaina gasped at the sight of him, shocked, and quickly shut the door.

“What are you doing here?” she said. “Quickly—come away from the window. Hurry! ”

She hurried them back into the living quarters, but he ignored her haste. “Answer me,” he said. “Who was the man you were speaking with? Your sister said he was a traveler.”

Madelaina’s surprise at seeing Ivor now turned to the shock of his question. “Did you not see him closely?” she asked. “He is—”

Ivor cut her off. “I could see a big man but little more than that,” he said. “Celyn says his name is d’Einen. Trevor or Trevyn or something like it. I do not remember. What were you speaking of?”

That brought Madelaina great confusion. Ivor was asking who Trevyn d’Einen was? A name he could not even remember? But if he knew the man, why didn’t he recognize the name?

“Trevyn d’Einen,” she clarified. “Ivor, he is—”

Ivor didn’t let her finish a second time. “You are not answering my question,” he said angrily. “Who is this stranger? What does he want from you?”

Stranger.

Ivor called Trevyn, a man who allegedly spied for him, a stranger.

No name recognition.

Nothing.

That threw Madelaina into a world of bewilderment. She didn’t understand any of it. But a few moments of puzzlement gave way to the realization that Ivor didn’t know whom she had been talking to. Not only did he not recognize the name, but he said he’d gotten a glimpse of a big man and made no mention or recognizing the features. He didn’t know him.

That could only mean one thing.

Trevyn, as he called himself, had been lying.

Realization hit her like a hammer. Her first reaction was to blurt out Trevyn’s lies and tell Ivor what had happened, but she stopped herself just in time. She didn’t want to see Trevyn hurt, which was exactly what Ivor would do—go after him and hurt him.

But then the speculation came.

Trevyn seemed to know an awful lot about Ivor. He knew about the politics and he knew the region. He knew everything. That could only mean one thing—that Trevyn was an English spy. Trailing him to The Narth had been her biggest clue, but, fool that she was, she’d let him convince her otherwise. He was part of the English contingent, an Englishman who spoke perfect Welsh. When she’d asked him what his business was at The Narth, he’d never given her a straight answer because he knew if he did, his lies would unravel.

He had to be a spy.

God, she felt stupid.

But she also felt strangely protective.

“He… he is a cousin to a smithy in town,” she said, lying as she went because she had to think of something quickly. “He came to town yesterday looking for something to ease a burn. His skin. Something for his skin, I think. I introduced him to my father because of it.”

She stammered through that explanation, praying that Ivor would believe her. She didn’t even believe it because, to her, she sounded like she was struggling her way through an excuse that hardly made any sense. She held her breath as Ivor mulled over her explanation.

“Then why did he come back?” he demanded. “What were you speaking of out there?”

She turned to look at the door as if she could see the street beyond and, consequently, Trevyn. “The salve my father gave him did not work well,” she said. “He came back to ask if there was something else.”

“Then you should have let him speak to your father,” he said. “The Bryn should know better than to allow his daughter to speak with strangers.”

“My father did not like the look of him,” she said, suddenly fearful that Ivor might ask The Bryn about this salve-needing cousin of the smithies. “You know my father thinks the smithies are a band of outlaws who charge people too much for their services. The fact that this man is a cousin to them has caused my father to think poorly of him. If you do not wish to see me in a world of trouble, you will not tell my father that he came back tonight. Promise me.”

Ivor waved her off. “You worry too much.”

“ Promise me .”

“I promise,” he said irritably. “But where is your father?”

“He is tending Old Adda.”

Ivor rolled his eyes. “Old Adda has been dying for the past ten years,” he said. But he sighed heavily—apparently close to believing what she had told him, because his anger seemed to ease. “You should not have spoken to him alone, you know.”

Madelaina nodded quickly. “I know,” she said. “But you know that Celyn does not speak to men at all, and most especially not strangers, so there was no one else. And you… When in the world did you get back to the village? You know there is a new army of English at The Narth. They arrived two days ago.”

She was trying to turn the subject away from her and away from Trevyn. Much to her relief, Ivor was easily manipulated this night. He was weary and perhaps not mentally able to do more verbal battle with her than he already had. He yawned and plopped himself down in the nearest chair.

“I heard about the arrival of Henry’s army,” he said. “Fud has been in town. He saw them.”

Madelaina moved toward him anxiously. “Then you should not be here,” she said. “They’ve not come to town yet, but it is only a matter of time. You must return to Pentwyn.”

He eyed her. “I was thinking you could come with me.”

The mood between them abruptly changed. It went from his anger and her pleading to his hopeful tone and her outrage with his rather improper question.

She scowled at him.

“I will not come with you,” she said. “What a terrible thing to ask, Ivor. Me? Return with you to a fortress full of men? You must think very little of me to ask such a thing.”

He was on his feet again, now apologetic. “I did not mean it the way it sounded,” he said. “I meant… I meant as my wife.”

Madelaina’s eyes widened. “Your wife ?” she said, incredulous. “Ivor, I will not have this conversation with you. And in front of Dai! What are you thinking?”

A faint knock on the shop door caught her attention as Ivor sank into his chair, sorry he’d even brought the subject up. As he hung his head, turning to the food that was on the table, Madelaina opened the door to the shop and walked through it, going to the front door. It was dark outside, so she couldn’t really see who it was, but she assumed it was her father, returning from Old Adda’s bedside, so she unbolted the door and opened it.

“I’m afraid I have something that belongs to you.”

The man she knew as Trevyn was standing in the doorway, his eyes glittering at her and a smile lurking on his lips as he pointed to the black dog at his side. Grasping the mutt by the neck, he pushed into the apothecary shop, pulling the dog with him.

“I was down to the smithy stalls when I realized he was following me,” he said. “Would you mind tying him up so he will not follow me? I would hate for him to become lost or injured. It is dark out tonight.”

Madelaina didn’t even know what to say at the sight of him. She was stunned, actually. Stunned speechless. All she could think of was Ivor in the room next door and this man… this spy … standing in front of her.

“I… I can keep him with me,” she managed to stammer. “I did not realize he was gone.”

Trevyn grinned, looking damn sexy in the dim light. “He has a special talent for finding me,” he said. “I must smell good. Do I smell good?”

“I would not know.”

The words didn’t come from Madelaina, but from someone else standing in the doorway to the living quarters. Both Madelaina and her visitor turned to see Ivor as he came out into the apothecary shop, his dark gaze riveted to Trevyn.

In fact, Trevyn seemed quite surprised to see him.

“My apologies,” he said to Madelaina. “I did not know you had a guest. I should not have entered, but I wanted to make sure the dog was remanded to your custody.”

“You were not interrupting,” Madelaina said. She was caught in a horrifically tense situation so she did the only thing she could do. She made introductions, as if nothing was amiss.

“Trevyn, this is Ivor ap Yestin,” she said. “Ivor, this is Trevyn. D’Einen is the last name, I believe. He is a cousin to one of the smithies, though quite honestly, I do not know which one. I never asked.”

Trevyn had a look on his face that suggested he was bewildered, quite briefly, but immediately he realized the gravity of the situation. To his credit, he didn’t falter in words or action.

“The smithy named Jonas,” he said, throwing his thumb in the direction of the road heading south. “He is a cousin on my mother’s side.”

Ivor’s face was like stone. “How is your burn?”

Madelaina spoke to Trevyn. “I told him you came here for salve for your burn,” she said. “And you came back again because you needed something else. I am sorry I could not be of much help tonight. You must return tomorrow and ask my father, as I told you.”

Things were happening very quickly, and the situation could deteriorate in the blink of an eye, but Trevyn didn’t appear nervous or edgy in the least. If anything, he seemed to relax, because he smiled weakly at Ivor.

“I am not a smithy by trade,” he said, rubbing a spot on his palm, perhaps a spot that had been burned. “I am a man who raises and sells horses, but I should have known better than to touch a hot hammer. My mother used to put butter on burns to ease them, but I thought The Bryn would have something else. I am sorry I came so late. I truly did not mean to interrupt anything.”

Ivor was looking him over quite closely. “Where are you from?”

“Dovey Valley.”

Ivor’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Then you are far from home.”

“I was seeing a man about a horse down in Chepstow. I am on my way home now.”

“Did you buy the horse?”

Trevyn shook his head. “I did not,” he said. Then he tilted his head in the direction of The Narth. “But I am certain the English have all manner of good horses. I should just steal one of theirs.”

Ivor stared at him a moment before the corners of his mouth twitched. “You are a brave man.”

“Or a stupid one.”

Suddenly, Dai was in their midst. He went straight for Trevyn, shoving the top of a short blade into his back and ordering him to raise his arms. Trevyn did, without hesitation, and Dai searched him for a weapon. All he came up with was a small dagger and a purse with some coin.

“He’s not armed,” Dai said to Ivor. “Put your arms down, man.”

Trevyn complied, but he seemed distinctly displeased with what had just happened. “You could have asked me if I was carrying a weapon,” he said to Dai. “I would have told you.”

Dai sheathed his short sword. “We can never be too careful, big man,” he said. “Ivor is a prince and I protect him.”

Trevyn had been friendly with Ivor, but he was distinctly less friendly with Dai. “Then he should leave the village, because The Narth is crawling with English,” he said. “It is not safe for him here.”

“What do you know about the English at The Narth?” Ivor asked.

Trevyn tore his gaze away from Dai. “Only what I’ve seen and heard,” he said. “And I’ve heard about you, too.”

Ivor nodded faintly. “Then you know what happened here not long ago.”

“I know.”

“Who is your allegiance to?”

“Llewelyn.”

“Have you been to battle with him?”

“If he calls for men, I answer if I can.”

“You have the look of a warrior.”

“Mayhap in my youth I was passionate enough,” Trevyn said. “But these days are devoted to horses. Better money in it.”

Madelaina, who had been watching the exchange with great trepidation, thought she needed to move the men along. She wasn’t sure when her father would be home and didn’t want him walking in on this little scene. So far, Ivor only thought Trevyn was a customer of her father’s potions, but any further conversation might change that opinion.

She had to get Trevyn out of there.

“Ivor,” she said, “there is food waiting for you and Dai, so do not let Celyn’s efforts go to waste. Go eat. Trevyn, we will bid you a good evening. Thank you for bringing Arthur back to me.”

Trevyn took his cue.

“Thank you for your assistance,” he told her as he headed for the door, pausing before he opened it to look at Ivor. “It has been an honor to meet you, great lord. You stand for the strength of Wales. You live with dignity. I shall not forget this day when I met a prince of our people.”

With that, he was through the door and out into the night. Madelaina quickly closed the door and bolted it, still holding on to her dog as she herded Ivor and Dai back into the kitchen, where the cooling food was waiting for them.

God, what a night, she thought. She’d never been so shaken in her entire life. But she was also thinking something else.

Trevyn, who are you?