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She eyed the soldiers somewhat warily for a moment, just as they were eyeing her. Each one was so uncertain of the other, the English in enemy lands and the Welsh facing men who were bent on conquest. But Chrystobel pushed her natural fear aside because it was a standoff at the moment. They were wasting precious time.

“What do you know about this madness of my husband killing my father?” she demanded. “Who would spread such lies?”

An older soldier stepped forward. “I do not know, my lady,” he replied. “We have been here all night. We’ve not heard anything about it.”

Chrystobel gathered her skirts. “Then I am going to find my father,” she said. “You will remain here and guard my sister.”

An older soldier shook his head. “We were instructed to watch over you and your sister, Lady de Poyer,” he said. “If you are going to find your father, then I will escort you.”

Chrystobel frowned. “I do not believe that is necessary.”

The soldier wouldn’t budge. “It is the lord’s orders, my lady.”

Chrystobel eyed the man. She knew why Keller had given the orders and she was frankly thankful for the protection. If she thought about it, she knew the man was correct in not letting her out alone. Gryffyn was about somewhere and she did not want to be caught without protection from his violent tendencies. Therefore, she asked the obvious question.

“Has my brother been located yet?” she inquired.

The soldier shook his head. “Not to my knowledge, my lady.”

With that confirmation, Chrystobel was convinced that it would be wise to take an escort with her. Although she rightly feared English soldiers, she knew Keller would not have assigned untrustworthy men to watch over her. Gesturing for the soldier to follow her, she descended the stairs to the entry level below.

It was dark and cold on this level, but bits of morning sun struggled through the gloom, streaming through cracks in the entry door to create a brilliant smattering of light against the entry floor. It was surprisingly clear of servants. She didn’t hear a soul stirring but she paid it little mind. Chrystobel lifted the iron latch on the heavy oak panel and pulled open the door.

It was cold and bright in the ward beyond. There were many strange soldiers moving about, English soldiers, and she pulled her robe more tightly about her body as she descended the stone steps that led down to the ward. It was muddy and slippery, and there were big puddles of water at the base of the keep from where the overnight dew had collected on the structure and then trickled down the stone.

Once on the floor of the bailey, she tried not to slip in the mud as she made her way towards the great hall. She could see servants milling about over by the kitchen and off to her right, she could see that the stable servants were busy feeding the horses. She could smell the barley dust in the cold morning air. Everything seemed busy and normal enough, certainly not the chaos that the serving woman had indicated. With the English soldier trailing after her, she drew close to the great hall and nearly ran straight into William as he exited.

William was just leaving the hall after having had Trevyn’s body removed. Startled at the unexpected sight of Lady de Poyer, he put out a hand to stop her forward progression.

“My lady,” he greeted, his voice calm and even in spite of his surprise. “Where are you going on this fine day?”

Chrystobel gazed steadily at the big blond knight. “I am looking for my father,” she said. “Have you seen him?”

William hesitated. “Aye, I have seen him,” he replied. “Where is your husband? When last we spoke, he intended to seek you out.”

Chrystobel shrugged, feeling impatient. “I have not seen him,” she said. “Where is my father?”

William didn’t want to tell her what he knew. That was Keller’s privilege. Therefore, he did the only thing he could do, he stalled.

“It is possible that I saw him with your husband,” he said. Well, it wasn’t much of a lie. He had seen Keller and Trevyn together as Keller knelt over the old man’s corpse. That was technically seeing them together, wasn’t it? “Wait here in the sunshine and I will find your husband and send him to you.”

He seemed terribly polite for a man who had been mildly rude to her most of the night. She would have wondered about his sudden change in behavior if she hadn’t been so preoccupied with finding her father.

“I will come with you,” she said. “I do not….”

William cut her off, holding up his hands to prevent her from following him as he began to move away. He had no idea where he could find Keller and he didn’t want the woman trailing after him, so he began heading in the direction of the gatehouse of Nether.

“Nay, Lady de Poyer,” he said, very nearly insisting. “Remain here so that I may find you easily. I do not know where your husband is and I do not wish to drag you all over the grounds, so stay here and I will return as quickly as I can.”

He passed a glance at the soldier standing behind her as if to silently emphasize that the man keep her in that particular location. The soldier received the silent message clearly, going so far as to nod as William headed off towards the gatehouse. Chrystobel watched him go with her hands on her hips, wondering why the man was nearly running away from her. Now his odd behavior was causing her to notice. Watching him race off, she finally shook her head.

“Why would he want me to stand here in the cold?” she wondered, mostly to herself. “I can just as easily wait for him in the hall. It would not be too far for him to go in order to find me.”

Since the soldier escorting her had been in the keep all night, he had no idea what had transpired in the great hall or what lay in store for them. When Chrystobel moved to the massive entry door that led into the great hall, he simply followed. He didn’t want to stand out in the cold, either, and he doubted he could have persuaded the lady to remain out in the cold light of day. Trailing after her, he passed through the door just behind her, listening to her gasp the moment she entered the hall.

There was a big puddle of blood on the floor near the feasting table. Even though the hall was dark, without a fire in the hearth or anything to light the dimness of the room, she could still see the blood at the end of the long table. Frightened, Chrystobel ran towards it, standing over the puddle and trying not to become ill at the sight of it.

“What happened here?” she demanded to anyone who could answer her. With no reply, she began looking around frantically. “What happened? Who was injured here?”