Daughter of Time (Prequel to The After Cilmeri Series)

Daughter of Time (Chapter Fourteen)

Llywelyn

"You seem inordinately pleased with yourself this morning," Goronwy said sourly as we met over my desk the next morning. He'd spent the previous evening going through the castle accounts with Castell y Bere's steward. Goronwy had trained this man well, but sometimes two heads were better than one.

I smiled at Goronwy. "I am."

I'd just left Meg sleeping in our bed and was looking forward to breakfast with her later. I'd been reluctant to leave her warmth and the inviting curve of her hip, outlined under the blanket, but the duties of the day called. I found myself changed, in no more time than it took to turn a page in a book. Finally being acknowledged the Prince of Wales in the eyes of King Henry was like the closing of one chapter, and Meg's coming into my life the beginning of another.

Goronwy rolled his eyes. He was slumped in his chair, his hair mussed, having run his hands through it time and again as he wrestled with the numbers on the pages. A scholar Goronwy was not, but of all my advisors, I most trusted him.

"We've lost a dozen men to death and injury," he said, "we've progressed only a few days from Cricieth in nearly two weeks, and are no closer to deterring Clare's despoiling of your land."

"It's winter," I said. "Clare couldn't have laid more than a few stones this week. The intrigue we've uncovered is more important; not only is Dafydd ricocheting around my lands wreaking havoc, but he's in league with Owain of Powys, whose father claims loyalty to me. We must determine if Dafydd's disloyalty has spread further than this."

"To Powys, then, as we initially planned?"

"To Powys. We will summon Gruffydd to us at Brecon," I said. "He must account for his son's actions, even if he doesn't countenance them."

"And the boy, Humphrey?"

"We will escort him to his grandfather's lands, or allow his grandfather to come get him. That is one young man I hate to let go, for he could become a great enemy some day. It's my hope that our treatment of him will outweigh that danger, at least for now."

"And ransom?"

"As I told the boy—no ransom," I said. "I prefer that the senior Bohun is beholden to us."

"He would prefer to pay ransom, I'm sure," Goronwy said. "He will hate that you return Humphrey for free."

"I look forward to greeting him in what was once his own hall," I said. Then I stood abruptly, shut the door to the office, and pulled up a chair next to Goronwy, whose eyes turned wary. "I have something to tell you, old friend."

He straightened, the gloom in his face lifting with the intensity in my voice. "What is it?"

"It's about Meg," I said.

Goronwy lifted his brows. He may not like numbers, but he was good with people. She'd impressed him on this journey, and he adored Anna, who'd attached herself to him whenever he was available. If I was going to tell anyone who they were, it was he.

"What do you make of her strangeness?" I said, by way of easing into the truth.

"We should simply call her Morgane and be done with it," he said.

That made me sit up. "What makes you say that?"

"She comes from a faraway land, she's a healer, and she's bewitched the Prince of Wales. She even sings of apples."

I laughed. "Everyone knows that song. No, the truth is strange enough without bringing Arthur into it." I stopped.

"What is it, my lord?"