Authors: Lynn Granville
Morwenna bent her head in submission. She disliked being ordered to remain in her chamber, which, though well appointed with colourful hangings and everything needed for her comfort, was small, round and airless with no more than an arrow slit for a window. There was surely no harm in her walking in the gardens alone? And yet her father was looking stern and though usually indulgent towards her, he could also show anger. This time she judged it wise to obey without argument.
As she walked towards the spiral staircase leading to her solar, she heard the sound of a man's laughter and halted, her foot on the bottom step. Even as she hesitated three men emerged from her kinsman's private chamber. One of them was Owain himself, the other two strangers. Yet she had recognised one of them instantly. It was the man she had seen naked on the banks of the River Dee an hour or so earlier.
Pray God he would not recognise her! Morwenna ducked her head, her cheeks scarlet as she hurried up the stone steps to her chamber, anxious now to hide herself away. How unfortunate that the man should have come here! Yet she ought to have guessed that travellers might be heading towards the manor of Owain Glyn Dwr for it was the only house of note in the area.
Hospitality was always offered to travellers if they came in peace and friendship. Wales was a land of dark forests and treacherous mountains that made travelling difficult for anyone unused to the terrain, but a warm welcome was usually to be found in the castles built in the Marches and elsewhere by the Norman overlords. Owain Glyn Dwr's house was not a castle but it was still a large and comfortable manor. Where else would strangers find a bed for the night?
Morwenna wished desperately that she had never walked to the river that morning. If her father learned that she had been so brazen as to stare at a naked man…a shiver ran through her as she imagined his anger.
She could only pray that the stranger did not know her.
*
'Who was that young woman?' Morgan asked of his mother's kinsman. He had caught sight of Morwenna's flushed face before she fled to safety, sensing her embarrassment. 'Your daughter, mayhap?'
'My daughter is at Sycharth,' Owain replied, eyes narrowed as he looked at the younger man. 'The girl is the daughter of a distant cousin of mine. Hywell Gethin of Bala. Why do you ask?'
'No particular reason,' Morgan lied smoothly. It would do no good to tell tales of the girl and might bring her harm. 'She hath a sweet face, no more.'
'Morwenna's mother was a beauty. I believe the girl will be the same in a few years. Her father came to me in the matter of her marriage. He wants to wed her to someone within my household if it can be arranged. She has a small estate at Oswestry as her dower. It came to Hywell through his wife and he does not care to live there.'
Morgan nodded, made thoughtful by a certain look in the other man's eyes. Was this the reason he had been summoned? He hoped not, for though the girl was comely he had expected more. A small manor so close to the English border would not satisfy his needs or ambitions. However, his fears were put to rest in the next moment for Owain was speaking again.
'I am always glad of another sword arm,' he told Rhys Llewelyn. 'If you wish for service here, sir, I shall put you under the guidance of my best captain. You will be trained with my men-at-arms and must swear fealty to my service and my cause.'
'I accept gladly, my lord,' Rhys grinned at Morgan. 'It was I who insisted that my cousin let me travel with him, for I am but a third son and my father has little need of me at home. When his estate is divided between us there will be hardly enough for a man to exist, and I must win myself a living elsewhere.'
'Then make yourself free of my estate,' Owain told him. 'Go now with my steward Iolo and he will give you food and show you where you may rest. I would speak to Morgan alone for a little, but he will join you shortly.'
'Thank you, my lord,' Rhys inclined his head and went off to follow in the wake of the steward.
'That was generous of you, Owain,' Morgan said as he looked at the older man. 'When I told Rhys I was coming here he begged me to let him accompany me and place his services at your command. Mayhap I should have refused and sent for him later if you agreed - but we have been good friends.'
'Can you trust him?' Owain asked, eyes narrowed, intent. 'I need all the men I can gather about me, but I must be able to trust them.'
'He has never let me down,' Morgan said. 'If I thought he would betray you, my lord, I would slit his throat myself.'
Owain nodded, a wintry smile on his lips. 'Brave words, Morgan. If you always remember that your first duty is to me then we shall deal well together. I sent for you because I have work for you, not because your mother begged me to help you. If you would earn your place in my household you must show yourself willing to serve in whatever way I ask of you.'
'I swear that on all I hold dear, my lord!'
'According to Maire that is not much,' Owain said wryly. 'But I have heard other things of you, things that please me more, and I believe you may do me a service that may not be done by another.'
Morgan was intrigued. 'Anything you ask – my life if you require it.'
'It might be that your life became forfeit if the true purpose of your mission was known,' Owain said grimly. 'I have kept your friend here, Morgan, but to serve me you must leave me for a while.'
'Leave you – I do not understand?'
'Listen well, Morgan, for I shall tell you of things you must swear to keep secret even if they try to tear the heart from your body.'
'I so swear, my lord. I shall die before I betray you – but I have heard whispers of your plans in the mountains. The songs of the secret places tell many stories that make me long to prove myself in your service.'
Owain nodded, brow furrowed in thought. 'The mountains whisper of many things. They whisper to me that Morgan Gruffudd is no friend to the English. They whisper of Welsh gold that goes astray on its journey to English lords and finds its way into the coffers of Welsh churches to pay for the relief of the poor…'
Morgan's teeth gleamed white as he grinned his appreciation of Owain's choice of words. 'As you say, my lord, the mountains whisper of many things but it is best not to believe all they say – or wiser to ignore the words of the bards, for truth to tell they sometimes say too much.'
'Wiser perhaps,' Owain replied. 'But a man who has the slyness of a fox could be of much use to me. There is talk of rebellion; you may have heard that Henry of Bolingbroke has roused his followers to rebel against Richard?' Morgan nodded but said nothing. 'There will be bloody war between Richard and Henry. It matters not which of them wins; we must be prepared to take our chance when the moment is right. For the time being I need a man…young, charming of manner and bold…a man who may travel wherever he pleases for no other reason than his own pleasure. A man whose mother has despaired of him, and whose kinsman sent him out to earn his living unaided. A man who could gather information and bring it back to me…'
'Where must this man travel, my lord?'
'To Shrewsbury and the length of the Marches, even to Chester or London if need be,' Owain replied. 'I need to learn the mood of the English. Will they accept Henry as their king with open arms, or are there some who might become a thorn in his side? We could not hope to drive out the English entirely alone. We shall need to make alliances and I would learn what I can of those who might take our side once the fight begins. For that I need someone with a steady head and a brave heart. Here in Wales I have other spies who may bring me news of the feeling in Wales, but already I believe that the time that is sung of in the mountains is near.'
'It is what I have heard,' Morgan said, a gleam of excitement in his brilliant blue eyes. 'And if this man could sing songs that might please the English, might he not earn a few coins along his way – a reason to travel where the fancy took him?'
'I have heard that you have a pleasant singing voice, Morgan.'
'It is said by some that I might follow the paths taken by Iolo Goch and Dafydd ap Gwilym if I so chose,' Morgan said, his eyes dancing with mischief now. 'Cast out by my family, who knows what I might do in the next few months?'
'I see we understand each other,' Owain replied and smiled. 'I believe we shall deal well together – and now to the matter of the girl you saw earlier. Hywell has asked me to arrange her marriage. It would please me if you were to take her to wife, Morgan – set the seal on our relationship. Her manor is small and of little interest, but I shall give her a wedding gift of two hundred gold nobles, with which a larger manor near to Sycharth might be purchased. For a man bound to me by both blood ties and service would be needed and required often in my household.'
Morgan was silent for a moment, considering. He had always thought to love the woman he married, and as yet had never met any woman that had touched his heart. But when Owain asked such a thing it was not lightly to be dismissed and a refusal might cause a breach between them.
He nodded his head, understanding the bond he was required to seal by marriage. 'The girl is comely enough,' he said. 'I believe the matter is a simple one and may be arranged – perhaps when I return from my travels?'
'That is my own thought exactly,' Owain said giving him a look of approval. 'The girl shall go with me to Sycharth and be told only that the matter of her marriage is being attended. If you are of the same mind when you return the wedding shall take place with my blessing.'
'Then all is settled between us,' Morgan said and clasped the hand he was offered firmly. 'What would you wish me to tell Rhys? He will ask why I leave so suddenly, and I must offer him an excuse he will believe.'
'You will allow him to think that we quarrelled after he left us, because I believed Maire's stories of your drunkenness and wild behaviour. Tell him that I insisted you should show willingness to reform and that you refused to serve me under my terms. It is a story that some will believe and may assist you in your dealings with the English. They are an arrogant race and may treat you with disdain, but you must hold your temper and say nothing of what passes between us. As yet they know little of Owain Glyn Dwr, but that may soon change.'
'Yes, that is my hope and wish,' Morgan said. 'Shall you be ready when I return?'
'We must see what Bolingbroke's rebellion brings forth,' Owain replied. 'We have waited centuries for our chance, Morgan, and the timing must be right. It would be foolish to strike too soon as others have before us, for unless we can gather enough support we shall fail. This time I truly believe we shall fulfil the prophecy that the men of Wales shall take back all that is truly theirs – once more to be called rightfully Britons and masters of this island that was stolen from us first by the Romans and then the Saxon hordes. And finally our Norman overlords, the ancestors of those who rule us now.'
'I pray for it,' Morgan said fervently. 'And now I must take my leave of you – for it would not look right if I were to tarry. I am known for my temper and my impulsive ways. I shall seek out Rhys and tell him I am leaving at once.'
'Nay, nay, Morgan,' Owain said and smiled at his impatience. He liked this eager young man and had instantly trusted him, though the friend he had brought with him was a different matter. There was something in Rhys Llewelyn's eyes that told Owain he would bear watching. 'Stay and rest this night. I shall show my displeasure towards you at supper and you will drink too heavily at table, behaving badly as you go off to find yourself a corner to sleep in the stables. There you shall be met by my steward Iolo, who will give you food for the first part of your journey and money - for I believe the English gold did not find its way into your pockets?'
'To steal for myself would make me a thief,' Morgan said. 'To steal for others…' He threw back his head and laughed. 'I am not sure what that makes me. Will they sing of me as a fool or a hero when I am gone, Owain?'
'If they sing of you at all, you will have done all that a man can,' Owain said. 'To be remembered is all that a man can ask of himself or others…'