Morgan the Rogue (51 page)

             
'Forgive me, lady,' the soldier said, discomforted by her distress.  'We must obey our orders.'

             
'Morgan…' Rosamund rushed to him, her face drawn and pale, eyes wide with fear for him.  'Go quickly!  Escape now, while you can.  I was wrong…'

             
'Hush, my dear love,' he said and clasped her in his arms, kissing her hungrily.  'You know that you were always the wife of my heart and I would wed you if I could.  Forgive me if I ever caused you pain.  I must go with these gentlemen.  To resist would bring harm to you and my daughter and you might be arrested in my stead.  Take care of Morganna, my love, and be happy yourself.'

             
'Morgan…' Tears caught at her throat.  'You are not well…'

             
'I am well enough, fear not.  Go to Caris and wait there until you hear what has happened.'  He glanced at Morganna.  'Be happy, my child.  I loved you well, though I have not been a good father to you.  I beg you will forgive me for my neglect.'

             
'There is nothing to forgive, Father.  May God bless and keep you safe.'

             
'Then I am content.  I am ready, good sirs.  I go with you of my own free will.  We need wait no longer.'

             
The two women moved instinctively closer together as Morgan was escorted from the house, to where the horses were waiting.  Grooms had been dispatched to fetch his own horse and he was allowed to mount and ride with them, his hands unbound.

             
'He will escape,' Morganna said as Rosamund's arm drew her into a gentle embrace, giving her courage.  'He was worried for us, but when they are away from here he will give them the slip.'

             
'No, I do not think he means to run away,' Rosamund said and her lovely eyes were wet with tears.  'He is a man of honour and he has gone with them of his own will – but I do not understand why His Majesty has done this.  He swore to me that he would show clemency and there were three more days before Morgan must lay down his sword.'

             
'What can we do?' Morganna asked.  Desperation was in her face for she could not bear to see her father leave as a prisoner of his old enemy.  'Will they hang him as an example to the others?'

             
'I pray he will be given a fair trial,' Rosamund replied.  'We must travel to London, Morganna.  I shall go to the King and beg for his life, on my knees if need be.'

             
'No,' Morganna said, her expression thoughtful.  'You should not beg, Rosamund.  My father would be angry and humiliated if you did that.  I think we should go to Caris as he bid us.  We must wait there to hear his fate.  Whatever it may be we must face it as bravely as he would expect.'

             
Rosamund wanted to protest, her heart aching as she thought of Morgan broken and bent on the rack or condemned to the headsman's axe, but as she looked at the girl's pale face she knew that Morganna was right.  Morgan would not want her to beg for his life.  He would rather go proudly to his death.

             
'Perhaps you were right,' she said more in the hope of comforting her than any real belief.  'Perhaps he does mean to escape and come to Caris.  We shall go there and wait as he bid us…'

*

'This is where the orchids grow later in the year,' Rosamund said as they walked together by the lake.  Its waters were grey, a breeze rippling the surface; at its edge graceful willows dipped their heads, their grey green fronds stroking the banks.  'I have not been here for so long.'

             
'Is it too painful for you?' Morganna asked.  'You must think of Richard here.'

             
'Richard is never far from my thoughts, but they are mostly happy ones now.  As they are when I think of your father.  Those years were the happiest and the saddest of my life – just as Kestrel told me.'

             
'We have heard no word of my father in all these weeks.'  Morganna's voice throbbed with the emotion she kept inside.

             
They had heard that early in March more than six hundred Welsh nobles and rebel lords had taken an oath of loyalty to the King and been pardoned.  In various regions other similar courts had been held and men restored to their estates, but these men had not included Owain Glyn Dwr's closest friend and trusted lieutenant.  It was likely that an example was to be made of Morgan Gruffudd.

             
'If the King has him executed I shall go no more to Court,' Rosamund said, her eyes bright with unshed tears.  'It is too cruel.  I believed he would surrender in the end.'

             
'They came too soon.  It was not honourable,' Morganna said angrily.  'Father was not allowed to decide…'

             
It was the end of May now and they had almost given up hope of hearing that Morgan had escaped, their hopes dying as the days and weeks passed with no word of him.

             
Rosamund shivered as a cloud passed across the sun, blotting out its fragile warmth.  'We should go back to the castle.  I must write some letters, discover if there is any news…'  She broke off as she heard voices and then Jack Errin came running towards them and she clutched at Morganna's arm in sudden fright.  'Something has happened…What news, Master Errin?'

             
'William has sent word, my lady.  There is a great company arrived at Caris.  The King and his gentlemen await you there.'

             
Rosamund looked at Morganna, seeing her own fear reflected in the girl's eyes.  She reached out and took her hand, clasping it for a moment.

             
'Be brave, my love.  We shall have news now – for good or ill.'

             
'Yes…'  Tears hovered on Morganna's dark lashes but she blinked them away.  Her father would not want her to humble herself or shed tears for him before the King.  'At last we shall have news.'

             
The ride to Caris was tense, the thudding of the horses' hooves as they cut into the soft earth echoing the thundering of their hearts.  Neither Rosamund or Morganna dare think of what awaited them.  If the news was bad…but it could be no worse than this terrible waiting, for the fear came in the night, bringing dreams to tear and taunt them.

             
The castle was reached.  The horses clattered over the wooden drawbridge into the cobbled courtyard.   Above them the sky had turned leaden as if a storm threatened, and Morganna shivered in the sudden chill as her eyes turned towards the forbidding stone walls of the fortress.  What news awaited them within?

Servants hurried to help them dismount.  Everywhere was in a bustle, a hive of activity as the castle was prepared for its unexpected visitors.

             
'Give me your hand, Morganna,' Rosamund said.  'We shall go in together.  Whatever the news you have me beside you.'

             
Morganna took the hand she offered but said nothing.  She had the strangest feeling.  It was something to do with the peculiar looks she had noticed amongst the servants…as if they were excited but trying not to show it.  Yet they did not seem afraid or distressed.  What was happening?  She sensed something hidden yet dare not put a name to it lest she was wrong, but her heart was pounding, beating wildly against her ribs as she walked into the echoing hall and saw a crowd of men gathered at the far end.  Smokey torches flared in their sconces and a huge fire was burning in the hearth, sending out a shower of sparks as the great log flamed.

             
'Lady Rosamund,' a man said, coming forward, hands outstretched in welcome.  He was resplendent in blue and silver, regal and commanding – yet his smile as he greeted Rosamund was warm.  'Forgive us for descending on you with no warning.'

             
''Tis no matter,' Rosamund said and curtsied, her head bent respectfully.  'You are welcome to Caris, Your Majesty.  But I beg you to tell me without delay – what news of Morgan Gruffudd?'

             
'Morgan Gruffudd…'  The King seemed to deliberate, a sly mocking curve to his mouth.  'I am not sure I know that name…'

             
Morganna was searching the faces of the other men.  She might be dreaming…but no, there he was, dressed as finely as any other of that company.  He had seen her and was coming forward to greet them.  Her heart beat wildly and she looked at Rosamund, saw her turn pale as she caught sight of him too.

             
'You must not tease my lady, Sire,' Morgan said and smiled as he moved to catch Rosamund as she swayed, supporting her until the faintness passed.  'She has been in some distress these past weeks.'

             
'Morgan…'  Rosamund gave a sob of relief.  'You are alive…here…I do not understand.'

             
'Hush, my love,' he said and placed a finger to her lips.  'You told me the King would treat fairly with me and so he has.  I was not asked to surrender, merely to promise friendship.  That I promised right willingly, and was offered service, for which I am grateful.'

             
'But there was no word.  We thought…'

             
'For that you must blame me, Lady Rosamund,' the King told her.  'We wanted to surprise you – and your lord took some time to decide.'

             
'No more than a few days, Sire – which we spent in debate if you recall.'

             
'And since then we have been caught up with matters of State.  I trust Lady Rosamund will forgive us the small deceit?'

             
She could do no more than curtsey and kiss the hand he offered.  'I thank you for your generosity, Sire.'

             
He nodded, looking mighty pleased with himself.  'We have settled things between us and the past is forgot.  Let us think now of happier times.  I hope to see you and Sir Morgan at my court soon – and Sir Morgan's daughter.  Where is she?  May I meet her?'  He glanced about him.  'Come hither, lady.  I would see your face.'

             
'Sir Morgan?'  Rosamund looked at him as Morganna was brought forward to make her curtsey to the King.  'Morgan…'

             
'His Majesty was pleased to honour me.  He said a worthy opponent was worth a few honours.  My estates in Wales are all restored to me – but I fear new duties will keep us often in London once we are wed.  I hope you will not mind that, Rosamund?'

             
His eyes dwelt on her face.  'You know that I shall not.  To be your wife and live with you in peace…'

             
He smiled, touching her cheek lightly with his fingertips before his eyes moved to Morganna.  She was smiling up at the King as he raised her and he was reminded of Kestrel's words.

             
'Her blood shall mingle with that of Kings
…'

             
For a moment he knew fear for her, a premonition of pain and hurt in the future.  She would never be wife to this king and no good could come of the only alliance that might be offered in marriage's stead.  He regretted that he had brought Morganna to the notice of royalty, but then he relaxed, laughing inwardly.  Kestrel's riddles were never that simple.  He was letting his imagination run away with him.

             
'What worries you, my lord?' Rosamund asked, recalling his thoughts.  'There is something on your mind.'

             
'It was nothing, a mere foolishness,' he said and smiled down at her.  'How soon can we be married, my love?'

             
'As soon as it may be arranged.  You know it is all I want of life.'

             
'We must be grateful that His Majesty has been gracious.'

             
'Indeed…'  A little smile hovered on his mouth.  'It was in my mind to surrender the day the King's men came for me.  If they had not brought me to him I should have gone to the court with the others to lay down my sword.'

             
'Did you tell him that?'

             
Rosamund looked at him curiously, seeing the hint of wicked glee in his eyes and the pride that had been so sadly missing in the days before he was brought to the King.  This was the man she had first met, bold and daring and filled with an inner joy that seemed to shine out of him.

             
'Only after we had settled our differences, which we did after some lengthy discussion on all manner of subjects.  This king has a vision, Rosamund, and thus is a man I can serve.'

             
'And Owain?'

             
'Owain will never surrender,' Morgan said.  'I have told His Majesty that nothing I can do will change that.  The revolt is over, though a few hotheads may make trouble from time to time – but there is no need for further discontent.  I have talked to Henry.  He is a fair man and I believe the whole country will prosper for as long as he rules.  His vision of the future is one I share.'