Morgan the Rogue (8 page)

             
'You have all that you want?' she asked as he took his place beside her.  'I trust that my people have attended to your comfort?'

             
'Indeed, my lady, I could want for no more than I have been offered.'

             
'That is well,' she said and smiled at him so sweetly that Morgan's head span.  She was even lovelier this evening than he had thought her – and there was a subtle change in her manner.  It was as if she had sloughed off the sadness that had hung over her, her eyes seeming brighter somehow.  'I believe my steward has asked if you will accompany me tomorrow, but you have not given him an answer.'

             
'I wished to know where you were going, lady.'

             
'And this matters to you?  I thought you sought service wherever you could find it?'

             
'I had thought to seek my fortune in England, but it is no matter.  If you wish it, I shall go with you.'  He hardly knew why he was so easily persuaded, yet there was something between them – a thin invisible thread that seemed somehow to have entangled itself about his heart.

             
Her eyes deepened, mysterious and compelling, holding him.

             
'Then you shall accompany us.  I go to meet my King, sir.'

             
'King Richard?'

             
'There is no other.'

             
Morgan inclined his head, amused by the note of pride.  'I am sure you are right, my lady.  At the moment Richard is truly king of England.'

             
'And shall be if his loyal subjects can do aught to prevent the usurper gaining his evil way.'

             
'You are very loyal, I see,' Morgan murmured.  'I am honoured to offer my services to you – and your king, lady.'  And now his words carried the ring of truth, for he admired her loyalty and her determination to do what she thought right despite danger to herself.

             
To be taken to the King of England was an unexpected bonus!  He could never have hoped for such a thing, and hid his excitement with difficulty.  Surely he would learn all he needed from such a source?

             
'Thank you, Morgan,' Rosamund replied and lifted her cup to toast him.  'Eat and drink your fill this night, for we leave tomorrow after dawn.'

             
'Where is His Majesty to be found?'

             
'I am told that he is on his way to Conway,' Rosamund said.  'We shall hope to be there almost as soon as he is, for his journey from the coast is longer than ours.'

             
'But the King may ride faster, for we shall have much baggage.'

             
'That can follow as it will,' Rosamund said.  'Indeed, I am sending most of it to my castle near Ruthin for the moment.  It may be that I shall hold that place for the King.'

             
'And will your husband join you there?'

             
'That is for him to decide,' she said.  'He may have other plans.'

             
Morgan's eyes narrowed as he looked at her, reading her discomfort and her anger – anger directed not against him but another.

'Do you think he means to join Henry Bolingbroke?'

             
'Perhaps.'  Rosamund flushed as she met his direct gaze.  He read her mind too easily for comfort!  'I pray that I am wrong, and that he will not betray Richard…'

             
'But you think it likely?'  Morgan saw the answer in her eyes.  'Nay, it is not necessary for you to say it, my lady.  These are troublesome times.  It may be that men will change sides more than once.'

             
'Some men will choose only their own side,' she replied.  'But I owe loyalty to King Richard and so I have decided to go to him.  I have men he may need in my service, and others at Ruthin that will remain loyal to me.'

             
'You are certain of them?'

             
'I believe so.  They were always loyal to my mother and would defend me against all comers.'

             
'Then perhaps you should go there at once, lady.  In times like these it is sometimes wiser not to be seen to take sides.'

             
'Those are the words I would expect of a coward, sir,' she said scornfully, her eyes flashing with anger.  'Since I know you are not, you must have thought to protect me and I shall forgive you – pray do not repeat them.'

             
'Your forgiveness,' Morgan said, the corners of his mouth twitching as he fought to control his silent laughter.  The wench had more spirit than many a man!  'I shall of course accompany you wherever you choose to go.'

             
Rosamund saw the twitch and suspected that he was laughing at her.  A part of her was angry with him for daring to be amused, but something inside her was responding to him.

             
'Will you not sing for us?' she asked.  'I am of a mind to be merry this evening, for I have my friends about me…'

             
Morgan had noticed a happy, carefree atmosphere in the hall, judging it to be because of the lord's absence.  It was clear that the people here were loyal to their lady, prepared to serve her in whatever way she asked, and he understood that such loyalty did not come lightly; it must be  earned.

             
'It shall be my pleasure,' he said and rose to his feet, taking up the lute he had brought with him to supper and walking from behind the board to stand before her.  'This is for you, lady – and for your friends.'

             
First of all he sang in English, a merry song of lovers playing a jest on each other, then another, sadder, tale of unrequited love and a lover left to pine for the lady who had left him for another.  After that he sang a Welsh song written by one of Wales's greatest poets Dafydd ap Gwilym, his rich deep voice portraying all the melancholy and despair of a people driven from their lands.

             
When he finished his song and went back to sit beside Rosamund, she was wiping a tear from her cheek.  Her eyes sought his and for a moment he imagined that she was trying to offer him an apology, as if she felt herself guilty for what had been done to his people so long ago, but in a moment the look was gone and he might have imagined it.

             
'You sing with great feeling, sir,' she said and rose to her feet, giving him her hand as he rose once more to take it, towering over her.  'I thank you and shall hope to hear more another night.  Forgive me now, I must leave for there is much to be done before we depart and I want to be on my way soon after dawn. Until I retire to my chamber the work cannot commence.'

             
He kissed her hand.

             
'God give you sweet rest, lady.'

             
'And you, sir.'

             
He watched as she walked from the hall, half expecting it to be the signal for the men to behave in a bawdy fashion or drink themselves into a stupor as so often happened when the ladies had left for the evening.

             
Instead, he saw that the servants set immediately to clearing the board of the food left strewn upon it, which was a signal for others to begin what was clearly the huge task of packing everything within the house.

             
'May I be of help?' Morgan asked William Baldry as he caught sight of the man scurrying about, ordering the stowing of various goods.  'I can help load the wagons if you like?'

             
'My lady has ordered all her possession stripped from this place,' William said.  'Most will be sent to her castle at Caris and she will take only clothing and personal items with her to meet….' He broke off abruptly.

             
'Lady Rosamund has told me something of her plans,' Morgan said.  'Tell me what I may do and I shall be glad to help.'

             
'We need all the hands we can get,' William said, pleased with the offer.  The Welshman was strong and with shoulders like his could carry as much as two others might.  'My lady's chairs, the stools and benches – all the boards and trestles must be loaded on the first carts.  The kitchen chattels may be left to others and will travel on another wagon – apart from those we shall need on our journey, which will go on the mules.  When that is done the women may need help with some of the hangings…'

             
Morgan set to work with a will, wondering as he lifted and carried various items what the lord would think should he return and find his castle stripped bare.  It was the custom to take the household goods from place to place, but not to strip everything as completely as had been ordered here.  The Lady Rosamund must be planning a long stay at her Welsh fortress…

*

Rosamund sent the baggage train on its separate way an hour or two after the small train crossed the border into Wales; two of her women, most of the servants and three of her men-at-arms went with it.  After some lengthy discussion, William was persuaded to go with the party bound for Caris.

             
'You will need me,' he had argued.  'Someone must care for your comfort on the journey.'

             
'I have my women to do that,' Rosamund told him, but only you can set Caris in order for our coming, my good William.  I shall be well protected on my journey, and when I reach the King I shall be given all the comfort I need.'

             
'Indeed, I know His Majesty regards you highly,' William replied, glancing darkly at the Welshman who was to accompany his mistress. 'And you have others to guard you – but take care, my lady.  I pray you, do not be too trusting.'

             
'I thank you for your care of me, but someone must watch over my possessions, for all I can now claim to be mine is in those carts.  When Philip learns what I have done, he will seize everything else of value.'

             
William inclined his head, for he knew she spoke truly.  Her act of defiance would cost her dearly for in law her husband owned all the lands she had brought to him on her wedding, save only Caris, which she held through her mother and had been reserved to her by royal decree.  Its revenues were some fifty or sixty gold nobles a year, little enough to feed and equip her household, and not a hundredth of what she left behind.

             
So they parted, William looking back anxiously until the two trains  were too far apart to see anything more.  Their horses went at a good canter, Morgan at Lady Rosamund's side, Alicia and an older woman he judged to be Rosamund's nurse riding pillion behind grooms. Behind them came the men-at-arms, and at the rear the pack horses with their baggage and the servants.

             
'I fear Master Baldry does not trust me, my lady.' Morgan spoke after they had ridden for some time in silence.

             
'William worries too much,' Rosamund replied with a smile of affection for her steward.  'He is almost like a father to me, and indeed has stood in my father's stead many times since he died.'

             
'I have been told something of this,' Morgan replied for he had not wasted his time while he loaded furniture the previous night.  Servants loved to gossip, and he had encouraged them to talk of the lady they clearly loved, which they were very willing to do.  'I understand that Sir Harald died soon after you were wed, and that your mother died when you were a child.'

             
'Yes, that is true,' she said and shivered as they approached the forest.  'I hate your Welsh forests, sir.  They are dark and cold, and I fear there may be wolves lurking in their depths.'

             
He sensed that she wished to change the subject and smiled at her.

             
'I believe any forest, Welsh or English, may be dark and chilly at times,' he replied.  'As for wolves – some say that they have seen them lurking deep in the forests, but I believe they have been hunted to extinction in most cases.  Where once they roamed in packs and were a danger to the unwary, now there is likely to be no more than one or two if any, and they would probably fear you more than you fear them.  We may see a polecat but they are no danger to a party such as ours. Besides, I promise to fight them for you if they attack.'

             
She pulled a face at his teasing.

             
'Still I hate the forest.'

             
She could not explain that she still recalled the tales of evil spirits and strange beasts that lurked in the forest, which had been told to her by her nurse, to keep her from straying, for this man would think her foolish.  And for some reason, which she could not explain even to herself, she wanted him to think well of her.