Morgan the Rogue (38 page)

             
Besides, Maire had admitted that it was hidden – but where?  Morwenna had been through all her chests and coffers but could find no trace of it.  There must be a secret place somewhere.  All she had to do was find it.

             
She had thought there was plenty of time, but now she felt a sense of urgency.  If she could find the gold she could leave before Morgan returned to kill her.

*

'Will you not untie my hands so that I can eat?' Morgan asked as Jack brought him food.  'It is not fitting that I should be fed like a babe.'

             
'I have thought of that, my lord,' Jack said.  'See, I have brought more rope.  'I shall tie your ankles while you eat and then when we ride your hands will be bound again.'

             
Morgan grinned at him.  'Do your friends fear me so much, Jack Errin?  I am not a magician.  I cannot fly nor make myself invisible.  There are ten of you to stop me if I try to seize a horse and escape into the forest.'

             
'They have been ordered to deliver you safely to the prince,' Jack said and smiled slightly.  'I think they would rather do that than see you consumed by the fire, sir – as would I.'

             
'I am grateful for the prince's grace in sparing me that,' Morgan said.  'But freedom would be better, Jack.  Why do you not change sides?  All I ask is that you tie my hands less tightly next time.'

             
'Sir Philip would hang me!'

             
'But you need never return to that evil man.  Why should you when a better life could be yours?'

             
'You have a silver tongue, Morgan Gruffudd,' Jack said, tying the rope securely about his ankles before loosening his hands.  'I wish that it were as easy as you say – but even if you were free it would not be possible.  There are ten men here to stop you, and I would not be the cause of their deaths.'

             
'Even I could not kill ten men, nor do I wish to,' Morgan replied.  'I respect that they have their duty, as you have, Jack.  All I ask is that you tie me a little less tightly, for the ropes pain me.  If I were to slip away it would be when you were all sleeping and I would rather knock a man senseless than kill him needlessly.'

             
'Tell me nothing,' Jack said sharply.  'I cannot help you, my lord.  You know that I dare not.'

             
'Then I shall not ask again,' Morgan said and smiled.  'I merely thank you for your kindness.'

             
Jack shot a suspicious look at him as he gave him the bread, meat and water, which was the same fare as all the men shared and much better than he had been given in the cell of his prison.

             
Morgan's strength was returning with every hour they rode in the fresh air.  Away from the stench of the dungeons he felt able to breathe again.  He was close to his beloved mountains, riding, eating the kind of food he was used to, and gradually gaining in strength and hope.

             
Jack's resistance was weakening.  He sensed it though the man denied him.  It was only a question of biding his time.

*

'Is he not beautiful?' Alicia asked as she cradled the babe in her arms.  'He caused me some pain but I have forgotten it now.'

             
'He is very beautiful,' Rosamund said and touched the babe's forehead with her fingertips.  'I have been thinking, Alicia – in the spring when you are feeling better, would you like to visit your home?'

             
'Could we?'  Alicia's face lit up with excitement.  'I should like to show Elizabeth to my mother – and introduce my father to Thomas.  It is a long time since I saw them.'

             
'Then you must go when you are ready,' Rosamund said.  'I have been thinking of it for some time but waited until your babe was born.  The winter is on us now and you would find it too cold and difficult to travel for a while, but in the spring it will be much better for both you and the child.'

             
'But – will you not come with us?'

             
'No, I could not leave Caris,' Rosamund replied.  'My husband sent another letter only this morning demanding my return to him.  He says that Morgan Gruffudd is his prisoner…'  She caught her breath on a sob and Alicia reached for her hand.  'He demands my surrender in return for Morgan's life…'

             
'My lady!'  Alicia stared at her in dismay.  'Surely you will not give way to his demands?'

             
'No, for Morgan made me promise him before he left me.  He told me that if such an offer was ever made to me I must resist it.'

             
'And so you should, my lady,' Alicia said.  'If you must stay here then so shall I.'

             
'No, I pray you do not give up your pleasure,' Rosamund said.  'You and Thomas have my leave to go, though I shall always be happy to see you return.'

             
'Then we shall,' Alicia said and gripped her hand.  'If you wish us to go for a while we will, but we shall return to you.'

             
Rosamund smiled, touched the babe's face once more and left her to rest.  Going upstairs to her own solar, she found that Richard was arguing with his nurse about coming to find her.

             
'Mumma,' he said imperiously.  'Mumma pick up.'

             
'Yes, my darling,' she said and picked him up to kiss him.  He was growing into a sturdy lad, advanced for his age and clever, and he would make his father proud of him when he returned.  Pray God he did!  'Mumma is here now.  Shall we go to see Thomas and the horses?'

             
Richard clapped his hands in delight.  More than anything he loved to be taken up before Thomas on his horse and taken for a ride around the courtyard.  She would have liked to take him into the forest but dare not allow him to go beyond the castle walls.

             
She would not give in to save Morgan's life even though it was tearing her apart to refuse, but if it came to her son then she would have no choice.  She set the child on his feet, taking him down the stone stairs to the great hall, torn between pride in her son and the pain in her heart.

             
It was almost two weeks since she had dreamed of Morgan and she feared the worst.  She could no longer see his face when she closed her eyes and it frightened her.  She must not forget him.

             
'Oh, Morgan.  Morgan my love,' she whispered.  'I love you so.  Come back to me – alive or dead, come to me.  Let me see your beloved face again…'

*

Morgan could feel the blood returning to his fingers.  Jack Errin had tied the rope much more loosely this time, and he knew that with a little work he could manage to free his hands – but not yet.  He knew that Jack was trusting him to keep his promise and escape without killing his friends, and he intended to keep his word if he could.

             
The best time would be in the evening when they stopped to rest and sleep.  The men would eat and some of them would drink.  He had heard them laughing amongst themselves as they got nearer to the Castle of Conway.  They felt that their task was almost over and that soon they would be released from the burden of delivering their prisoner safely.

             
It had taken several days of gentle persuasion to get Jack to tie the ropes sufficiently loosely for Morgan to work his hands free, but he knew that once they lay down that night he would manage it.

             
His opportunity was coming.  He could feel it, could almost hear Kestrel telling him to be alert, to seize his opportunity when it came.

             
It came sooner than he had thought.  The officer in charge decided to make camp earlier that night.  They had but one more day's journey, and he was close to his home village.  He rode off as soon as the men had set up camp and returned two hours later with a sack of ale and one of wine slung over his saddle.  Morgan watched as the others gathered round, jesting and laughing about their celebration on their last night of freedom.

             
One of them brought a cup of wine to him, grinning at him in a way that was not unfriendly.

             
'Drink this, Morgan Gruffudd.  I know not what awaits you at Conway, but at least you can enjoy your last night before we get there.'

             
'I thank you for your kindness, soldier.'

             
'You Welsh are fools,' the man said.  'You can rebel as often as you like, but we shall beat you in the end.  Why not surrender to Prince Henry?  He is different from his father and a good man to serve.'

             
'I shall think about it,' Morgan said, giving him the empty wine cup.  'Give me another cup of this and who knows what I might decide.'

             
The man grinned and went off to fetch it.  He watched as Morgan drank it all and then retied his hands, leaving them even more loosely bound than Jack had been doing these past few days, then he went off to fetch a blanket and flung it over him.

             
''Tis cold enough to freeze a man's parts to ice,' he said, 'sleep well, Morgan Gruffudd.' 

Was it carelessness or something more? Morgan wondered but gave no sign that he had noticed.

             
'And you, friend.'

             
Morgan settled down, grateful for the blanket that hid his hands as he worked at the knots.  They fell open almost at once, but he left them loosely about his wrists as he made fists of them, letting the blood flow freely.  All the men were drinking deeply and he could hear their laughter everywhere around him.

             
Was this part of some plan?  He wondered, frowning as he saw that Jack Errin was in charge of the horses that night.  It was the soldiers' practice to tether them all to a line to make it more difficult for them to be stolen.  Morgan debated whether to try stealing a horse or simply slip away into the darkness.  If he took a horse it would mean a greater risk of waking the men, even though they were drinking freely – but perhaps one or two were not.

             
It might be that some of them were hoping he might make the attempt to escape – or was he reading too much into a situation that seemed to have been made easy for him?

             
'Goodnight, Morgan.' Jack Errin's voice said softly.  'Speak kindly of me to Lady Rosamund.'

             
Morgan smiled to himself in the darkness.  He waited until the singing and the laughter had stopped, until nothing could be heard other than snoring, and then he shook the blanket off, sitting up carefully, his breathing shallow as he waited for the shout that would betray him.  It did not come even as he got to his feet and began to walk carefully through the camp, stepping over one of the sleeping men.

             
He reached the horses, saw that the last one had been left loosely tied and hesitated.  No, it would be foolish to risk disturbing the men.  He was at home in the mountains and he knew where he could find shelter and a horse soon enough.

             
He glanced round the camp, saw that all the men slept, then he slipped away into the darkness.  After he had gone, one man lifted his head and smiled as he saw the discarded blanket.  He would wait until the hue and cry died down, and then he would go to Caris Castle…

*

Morwenna threw the contents of the oak hutch to the floor of Maire's chamber, emptying it so that she could drag it free of the wall.  She had searched every chest and coffer in Maire's chamber without finding the gold so it must be hidden in a cavity somewhere.  The hutch had been too heavy to move but now she could just manage it.  She was tapping the wall with a heavy wooden mallet that she used in her stillroom when the door opened and Rhys walked in.

             
He stared at her in silence for a moment, then asked, 'What are you doing?'

             
'I saw a rat,' she said.  'I wanted to kill it in case it bites Morganna.'

             
Rhys's eyes narrowed, intent on her face.  'You are lying,' he said.  'You emptied the hutch to make it lighter so that you could move it.  You would not go to so much trouble for a rat.  You would have called the servants to search for it.  What are you looking for, Morwenna?'  He smiled oddly.  'Did Maire hide her gold?  She was sly enough to have done it to spite us.'

             
'She knew nothing of you.'  Morwenna was angry at having been caught searching.  Rhys would never give her a moment's peace now.  'I told you, it was a rat.'

             
'I do not believe you,' he said.  'I knew you were searching for something.  I have heard you moving about in here at night.  Why didn't you ask me to help you?  Two of us would have had more chance of finding it.'  His lips curled back in a sneer.  'But you don't trust me, do you, Morwenna?  You planned to take the gold and leave before Morgan comes here.'