Morgan the Rogue Read online

  ‘I went for a walk to the river. It was pleasant there in the sun. I took my wimple off because it was so warm.’

  ‘Well, now you must put it on again, but first let me tidy your hair – and you should put on this clean gown. The tunic you are wearing has become stained; it has mud on the hem. It must have been muddy by the river.’

  ‘Mayhap. I did not notice.’

  Morwenna turned a deaf ear to the old woman’s scolding. Gwenny had been Maud Gethin’s nurse, coming with her from her home in the Marches. Maud’s grandmother had been an Englishwoman, something Hywell had resented. He had no love of the English, though he had loved his beautiful wife.

  Dressed in her second-best gown of white with a girdle of gold threads and hanging sleeves embroidered with gold beads, Morwenna went back down the spiral stone steps to the hall below. Her father and Owain Glyn Dwr were standing together by the raised dais at the far end, and as she hesitated to approach, her father called to her.

  ‘Come, Morwenna, there is no need to be shy. Glyn Dwr is waiting.’

  Morwenna felt the eyes of her kinsman on her as she walked slowly, gracefully, towards them, making a small but reverent curtsey as she had been taught. She smiled shyly at him as his eyes continued to study her before giving a nod of approval.

  ‘You have reason to be proud of your daughter, Hywell,’ he said in his deep, pleasant voice. He was a bearded man dressed in a long tunic similar to that her father wore but edged with heavy braid. At his waist he wore a belt and sheath of tooled leather, the handle of the dagger of carved bronze, but there was little else to show that he was possibly the wealthiest man in Wales. At least, the wealthiest Welshman in Wales, Morwenna corrected her thoughts. There were many English lords with vast revenues from Welsh estates – lands that brought in perhaps as much as three thousand gold nobles or more a year. These lands had been stolen long ago from their rightful owners and were a cause of festering resentment in the minds of those who believed themselves dispossessed. ‘You are comely, my lady. Your husband will be a fortunate man.’

  ‘Am I to be married soon, my lord?’ As a child Morwenna had called her kinsman Owain but she thought it might seem impertinent now that he was the true prince of Wales – at least he would be once his claim had been established.

  ‘The matter is under discussion,’ her father told her with a slight frown. The wench was perhaps over bold for want of a mother’s care, and he knew he had spoiled her for she reminded him of the woman he had loved too well. ‘I have asked Owain to arrange it and this he will do in the fullness of time.’

  ‘Morwenna is impatient to know her fate,’ Owain said and smiled. ‘We must forgive her. Nothing is certain yet but I believe I shall know soon. I have sent word to…’ He was interrupted by his steward who came hurrying up to him, whispering something close to his ear. ‘Ah, that is good news, Iolo. I thank you. Pray tell Morgan Gruffudd that I will speak to him privately and take him to my chamber.’

  ‘There is another young man with him – one Rhys Llewelyn of Powys. He is a second cousin of Morgan Gruffudd on his father’s side and has come to offer his services to you, my lord.

  ‘Then I shall see them together. Pray take them to my chamber and stay with them until I come.’ Owain frowned as his steward departed, then turned to Morwenna’s father. ‘A small matter I must attend without delay. I believe I may have news for you soon, Hywell.’

  He inclined his head to Morwenna and followed in the wake of his steward. Hywell looked at his daughter, eyes narrowed in thought.

  ‘You must not plague Owain, girl. The details of your marriage are of slight importance and he has weightier matters on his mind.’

  ‘Yes, Father.’ Morwenna gave him a dutiful look, knowing that he had gone to considerable trouble already on her behalf. ‘I am grateful that the lord Glyn Dwr has agreed to give my marriage some thought.’

  Her father gave her a suspicious glance, for she was not normally so meek. ‘You have not been listening at doors, daughter?’

  ‘No, Father,’ she denied, a faint flush in her cheeks. ‘At least, I heard very little for I turned away almost at once.’

  ‘Whatever you have heard is secret. Do you understand me, Morwenna?’

  ‘Yes, Father. I would never do anything to injure Owain. You must know that?’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ he agreed. ‘But a still tongue keeps a wise head in such times.’

  ‘I shall not forget.’

  ‘Go away and amuse yourself with your needlework,’ Hywell told her gruffly. ‘We shall not sup for some hours yet and I shall come for you myself when the hour is nigh. If there are strangers here it is best that you remain in your chamber until then.’

  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 mus
t 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, t
hough 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…’

  TWO

  Morwenna was nervous as she came down the stairs just behind her father that evening. He had come himself to fetch her as he had promised, looking at her in approval as he saw that she was wearing her best surcoat of cloth of gold over a tunic of white. Her dark blonde hair had been bound into thick plaits and wound each side of her head into circlets so that she could wear a small cap of gold mesh, with a veil hanging down her back. At her shoulder she had a pin of pearls and emeralds that he had given her as a keepsake after her mother died and was her only jewel of any note.

  ‘You look well, daughter,’ Hywell said and smiled at her. ‘Come, I shall make you known to Owain’s guests, and then you are invited to sit at his right hand for the evening. Is that not an honour for you?’

  ‘Yes, Father,’ she replied. ‘I am glad to have such favour shown me. It was kind of Owain to single me out for the honour.’

  ‘Well, I dare say it was yours by right as there are no other ladies here,’ her father told her gruffly. She must not be allowed to become swollen headed after all. ‘There are two young men at board with us tonight. Master Rhys Llewelyn and one of Owain’s kinsmen, though the relationship is more distant than our own – Morgan Gruffudd’s mother is a second cousin of Owain’s through her father’s side.’