Morgan the Rogue (35 page)

             
Maire did not answer, keeping her eyes closed as the girl looked at her for a moment longer and then began to move about the room.  Opening her eyes when she thought it was safe, Maire watched as Morwenna went to the counter and took out the small bag of gold that was hidden there.

             
So it was accepted that she was dying.  Morwenna was taking the gold to make certain of it now.  In the darkness the sick woman smiled.  She was not such a fool as to leave all her money where it could be so easily found.  What she had was for Morgan's daughter and she would tell Gwenny where it could be found.  Gwenny loved Morganna as she did and would make sure the money came to the girl one day.

             
She closed her eyes again as Morwenna left the room, feeling no pleasure in the discovery of her daughter-in-law's betrayal.  She had suspected it would happen when her time was near, but she had hoped she was wrong.  It saddened her that the girl was so bitter for she had hoped that Morgan's wife would love him.

             
Perhaps his woman loved him.  Maire hoped that he would find some happiness in life.  What little she had known had come from him as a child and from his daughter.

             
She gasped as she felt the pain in her chest.  It seemed to spread down her arm and then up into her head, so terrible the agony that she thought she would burst.  The last few days the pain had got so much worse and she prayed for death every night.

             
The door was opening again.  Morwenna had returned, this time with a candle.  Maire watched as she searched the counter once more.  Clearly she had expected to find more.

             
'What are you doing?'

             
Morwenna turned, her face a ghastly yellow in the candleglow.  It was clear that she was angry.

             
'Where have you hidden it?' she demanded.

             
Maire did not pretend to misunderstand.  She pushed herself up against the pillows, ignoring the pain that was threatening to overcome her as she looked directly at Morwenna.

             
'You have your portion.  The rest is for someone else.'

             
'You old witch!  Morwenna muttered, moving closer to the bed.  'Why should he have anything?  He cares nothing for you.  I have nursed and cared for you like a daughter these past months.'

             
'And I am not ungrateful.  There are twenty gold nobles in the bag you took, Morwenna.'

             
'There were two hundred or more,' Morwenna said.  'I have seen them and I want them.  Tell me where you have hidden the gold!'

             
'You may search where you will.  I cannot stop you.'

             
'Tell me!'  Morwenna grabbed her by her thin shoulders, shaking her back and forwards like a piece of rag.  'I want that money, you old witch.  It belongs to me.'

             
Maire felt the pain sharpen and consume her.  She choked as the blood welled up from her chest into her mouth and some of it gushed out as she fought for breath, staining the tunic of the woman shaking her.  Then, as Morwenna gave a cry of horror and let her go abruptly, she fell back against the pillows, her mouth open and her eyes staring.

             
'Maire…' Morwenna whispered in her fear as she realised what she had done.  'Maire…forgive me.  I did not mean…'

             
She turned away from the bed just as the door opened and someone entered.  The shame and horror of her crime was on her face as the other woman came to the bed.  Gwenny looked down at the dead woman and then at Morwenna.

             
'What did you do to her?'

             
'Nothing.  I heard her cry out in pain and I came to see what was happening.  She died as I bent over her.'

             
Gwenny knew instinctively that she was lying but did not dare to accuse her.  Morwenna was mistress here and could dismiss her as she pleased.  If that happened the child would suffer.  Her face showed no emotion as she bent over Maire and closed her eyes.

             
'I shall see to her,' she said without looking at her mistress.  'She was a good woman and things must be done properly.'

             
Morwenna did not answer.  Gwenny heard the door close behind her as she went out.  Her expression was grim as she fetched water to wash Maire's body.  She knew what she had heard and what she had seen, and she was certain that Morwenna had hastened her mother-in-law's death, though she had not heard clearly enough through the heavy door to know why they had quarrelled.

             
'May God forgive you, Morwenna,' Gwenny muttered.  She would hold her tongue outside this room, at least for the time being – but if her mistress ever harmed the child she would speak out.  'If you harm my darling, I'll see that Morgan Gruffudd knows exactly what you are…'

             
Alone in her chamber, Morwenna fell to her knees and clasped her hands in prayer.

             
'Forgive me,' she whispered, consumed with guilt.  'I did not mean to kill her.'

             
Yet she had known how ill Maire was.  Her rage at discovering how little gold was in the bag had consumed her, driving all else from her mind.  The money would have enabled her to go anywhere, but without it she must rely on Rhys.  She doubted that he would share his reward with her.  He would keep the English gold to himself to make sure she could not leave him.

             
Morwenna scowled as she realised that Maire had died without confessing her secret: unless she had told Gwenny?  But no, she had intended the money for her son.

             
Morwenna knew a moment of fear as she wondered what Gwenny had seen.  Did she suspect Morwenna of hastening Maire's death – and did she know why?

             
Morwenna's only chance of gaining her freedom was to search for the gold.  When Maire was buried she would go through her things.  It must be somewhere in her chamber.

*

It was early the next morning when Morgan arrived.  He knew as soon as he walked into the house that he was too late.  One of the serving wenches came to greet him and he saw that she had been crying.

             
'You come too late, sir,' the girl said.  'Your mother died last night.'

             
'I am sorry I was not sooner,' Morgan replied and crossed himself.  'God rest her soul.  It is good that she no longer suffers.'  His eyes closed for a moment and then he looked at the girl.  'Where is she, Annis?'

             
'She lies in her chamber,' the wench replied.  'Your lady has sent for the priest to bless her but she is to be buried here at Gruffudd.  It was her wish.'

             
'I know of a quiet spot by the stream where she would wish to lie, Annis.  I shall bury her myself later.  Now I shall go up to see her, but if the priest comes warn me before you bring him up.  It is best I am not seen here – for all our sakes.'

             
'Yes, my lord.  I shall keep a watch for him and let you know.'

             
Morgan nodded.  He was conscious of a sense of loss as he walked up the twisting stair to his mother's solar.  Maire had possessed a sharp tongue but he had respected and loved her in his way.  He regretted that he had not arrived in time to tell her so before she died, but he had been forced to hide in the mountains for two days.  The English were everywhere and he knew it was for him they searched.  He and his band of brothers had caused them too much trouble these past years.

             
Maire's body had been washed and dressed in a simple white tunic.  She lay with her hands crossed, a look of peace on her face.  He went to the bed and bent to kiss her forehead.  For some minutes he stood in silence by her bed, his head bent in prayer.

             
'Rest in peace, Lady of Gruffudd,' he said at last.  'Forgive me for not being here.  I loved you well though I may never have told you.  I pray that you knew what was in my heart.'

             
'She did not want you to come, my lord.'

             
Morgan turned and frowned as he saw Gwenny in the doorway.

             
'Why do you say that?  I do not think she hated me.'

             
'She loved you truly, sir.  She would not have you sent for, because she believed there was danger here for you.  It was Morwenna who sent for you.'

             
'You suspect her of something, Gwenny.  I can see it in your face.'

             
'I think she has been meeting Rhys Llewelyn – but do not tell her that I said so or she will dismiss me.  I must take care of Morganna…'

             
'Does she ill treat my daughter?'

             
'I – I take care of the child, my lord.  While I am here no harm shall come to her, I promise you.'

             
Morgan nodded, eyes narrowed.  'I shall speak to her before I leave…'  He broke off as the door opened and Annis looked at him from the threshold.  He sensed that she was anxious.  'Has the priest arrived?'

             
'Yes, my lord.  I came to tell you – but he told me he saw English soldiers in the village and he heard that they were coming here…'

             
'For me.'  Morgan swore softly.  'Then they knew I was coming here.  They have been warned.  Where is my wife?'

             
'She saw you arriving and slipped out the back way, 'Gwenny told him.  'That is why I came to warn you.'

             
'I must go, for I bring danger to you all.  You will see my mother decently buried, Gwenny?'

             
'It shall be done as she would have wished it, my lord.'

             
'Yes, I believe I can trust you.  Take good care of my daughter, Gwenny – and you, Annis, watch over Gwenny and do as she bids you.  Remember both of you that Morwenna is not to be trusted.  I shall return when I can.'

             
He ran down the stairs and left the house.  A servant had his horse ready and Morgan thanked him as he hastily mounted.  It seemed that Maire's servants were loyal even if his wife had betrayed him.

             
He was riding hard when he saw the soldiers coming towards him.  There were at least twenty of them, mounted on swift horses and unburdened with heavy armour, clearly ready to give chase.  It seemed that they were learning a little about fighting the Welsh, who were masters of the art of surprise attack and the ability to disappear just as swiftly.

             
He would do his best to outrun the English soldiers!  If he could just reach the forest he might be able to give them the slip.  Once there he knew the secret ways, places where a man might hide safely until dark.  He bent over his horse, urging it on.  He had to escape for he knew his fate if they should take him.

             
His horse was fast, flying over the soft earth as if on wings, its hooves seeming barely to cut the mossy ground.  He could see the dark line of the forest just ahead of him.  The men behind were catching him but he was still ahead.  With luck he could disappear into the vastness of the forest before they caught up to him.

             
He was beginning to feel more confident when five archers leapt to their feet.  They had been hidden in the first line of trees and he had not seen them until now.  He pulled frantically on the reins, causing his horse to rear up as he tried to change direction.  A hail of arrows let fly, piercing the soft underbelly of his mount.  Its screams were terrible to hear as it went crashing down, trapping Morgan beneath its writhing body.  He was aware of pain as something struck his head and then everything went black and he was no longer conscious as the English surrounded him.

             
Morgan knew nothing as the soldiers hauled the dead horse off of him, lifting him clear.

             
'Is he dead?' one of them asked of his companions. 'Sir Philip wanted him taken alive.'

             
'He's out of his senses but still breathing,' their leader said.  'We'll carry him on a litter.  Treat him with care.  Sir Philip would have him fully conscious of what he plans for him.'

             
'It would be kinder to kill him now,' another soldier muttered beneath his breath but said nothing aloud.  He remembered Morgan as the man who had saved Lady Rosamund's life and had always respected him.  'God help him, for I fear none else can.'

*

Rosamund woke with a start.  She had been resting on her bed and must have fallen asleep, but her dream was so terrible that it had left her trembling and afraid.