Page 65 of The Cornish Princess
With Ia’s youngest on her hip, her mother patted her daughter on the shoulder, and said, “There, there.”
Unfortunately, Gwendolyn had no words to console the poor woman, and neither did she dare elaborate further when Ia was already so distraught.
Offering thanks for her time, Gwendolyn and Málik left her to be consoled by her mother, and Gwendolyn took the opportunity on the way home to tell Málik about her suspicions. With her cheeks burning hot, she reminded him about the spew on his tunic, and explained that she’d eaten prunes from Mester Ciarán’s bowl.
“Interesting,” he said.
“Don’t you think so?”
“Indeed.”
Ia’s father’sfarm was only a stone’s throw from her uncle’s village.
They’d been gone so short a time that Gwendolyn was surprised to return and discover a pyre already aflame, with Owen’s body atop it. As casually as though he were a rack of lamb, they’d tossed him onto the bier, and then stood watching as he burned. He was surrounded by strangers who would shed no tears for him and Gwendolyn forced herself to stand and watch as well—a final gesture of respect.
Beside her, Málik kept her company.
After a while, he said, “Gwendolyn.” And, far from loathing the way it sounded, Gwendolyn was moved by the way her name sounded upon his lips… breathless, like a whisper.
“Yes?”
“Those prunes must have been costly, don’t you think?”
Gwendolyn nodded.Indeed.Particularly at this time of the year when they must be imported. In fact, they were so costly that she saw none on the table at Prince Loc’s welcome feast, despite that she knew her father meant to impress.
“Moreover,” he said, perhaps wondering aloud, “only ask yourself… why would someone bother using a hammer if the method of death was poison?”
Gwendolyn blinked.
Of course she had wondered. Many times. It was part of the reason she had embarked upon this investigation, but when Málik posed the question, the answer seemed as clear as the nose on her face.
They’d used the hammer to deflect suspicion—for the same reason they’d moved the body… and for the same reason they’d cleaned Bryok’s house.
Whoever killed Bryok wasn’t a stranger.
It was someone who’d known him well enough to offer an extravagant gift of imported prunes. Someone who known him well enough to worry his death would reflect upon him poorly.
Findthatman, Málik suggested, and therein discover his motive.
ChapterTwenty-Six
If only to see if the woman’s story would change, Gwendolyn returned to the farm a few days later. Ia had been weeping since Gwendolyn gave her the awful news. So, it seemed she must have truly believed Bryok would join her in Chysauster.
Curious about Bryok’s relationship with the Mester Alderman, Gwendolyn inquired further, wondering if Alderman Eirwyn ever called upon their home, or whether he and Bryok might be acquainted more intimately than their positions should allow.
He did not, she said, although sometimes Alderman Aelwin attended her husband at home. “Aelwin?” Gwendolyn asked with surprise, remembering that not once, but twice he’d denied any fellowship with Bryok. And yet, it could be that while it was not precisely unlawful to befriend another alderman, alliances between her father’s councilmen were not encouraged.
Moreover, the aldermen were commonly at odds, currying favor at all times. And if Gwendolyn recalled correctly, both Bryok and Aelwin were foremost in the line of succession for the position of Mester Alderman after Eirwyn retired or died. However, as First Alderman, Bryok had the advantage. Jealousy made for strange fellows.
Indeed, if Alderman Aelwin was jealous of Bryok, perhaps he’d meant to remove his rival, and the prunes were Aelwin’s, meant for Bryok.
To that end, Alderman Aelwin had also seemed overly intrigued about the reason Bryok wished to employ the cook’s house. Perhaps he was the one who’d sent Bryok to inquire, if only to deflect suspicion from himself.
Gwendolyn had so many questions to put forth upon her return, but though there was little to be accomplished from so far away, she was in little hurry to face the journey home, nor the changes to come—changes to her life, that would be enforced the moment she returned.
The only reason she’d escaped—and make no mistake, it was an escape—was because of her own expediency and her mother’s ignorance in Gwendolyn’s day-to-day activities. However, Queen Eseld would not allow Gwendolyn another reprieve. Therefore, against her better judgment, she lingered in Chysauster, poring over the clues in her mind, telling herself that what was done was done. The First Alderman was already dead. There was nothing she could do to change that. And neither had she any evidence, except her own suspicions and a handful of poisoned prunes she intended to show her father, though alone they proved little.
Moreover, if Gwendolyn’s suspicions were true, there was no one left but Aelwin to inherit Eirwyn’s position, and therefore no one else should be in immediate danger, except for perhaps Eirwyn, although Aelwin would be a fool to murder two aldermen in so short a time.
