Rowan's Revenge

by June Francis

  After they had eaten their fill and drunk more mulled wine, Mrs Moore gave Cicely the task of showing Kate and Beth to a bedchamber on the ground floor. It was not very large and had only a couple of wooden pegs on the wall to hang their cloaks but a fire had been lit in a brazier, taking the chill from the room.

  ‘I hope you’ll be comfortable here and not have to leave too soon,’ said Cicely, who had her father’s fair hair and freckled face.

  Kate considered some of the places she had slept in during the past year and assured her that everything was fine. Clad in her shift, Kate slid between the cold sheets with a sigh.

  ‘Why do you sigh, Kate?’ asked Beth.

  Kate knew she could not tell her the truth, so instead said, ‘I was thinking that Master Milburn seems to have taken a fancy to you. What are your feelings towards him?’

  Beth said sleepily, ‘I like him very well and I am thinking that his daughter is of an age when she needs a mother.’

  ‘Owain tells me that Master Milburn is looking for a wife.’

  ‘Then he need look no further,’ said Beth with a chuckle.

  Kate smiled, hoping that Master Milburn would not delay in pressing his suit. Both were past the bloom of youth and had no time to waste. Also it meant that her mother would need not concern herself about what the Stanleys might think if she married Master Milburn and went to live in Yorkshire. Of course, Kate would miss her, but her mother’s happiness was what mattered. Still, she was perhaps thinking too far ahead. They had yet to face Sir Thomas. She turned onto her side and closed her eyes, hugging part of the pillow against her cheek and pretended it was Owain’s broad chest.

  ‘Wake up, Kate! Master ap Rowan and Diccon are leaving,’ cried Beth.

  Leaving? With her eyes still shut, Kate sat up and flung back the covers and slid out of bed. The wooden floor was cold. As she straightened up, she felt suddenly nauseous and had to force down the bile that rose in her throat. She sank onto the bed and took several deep breaths before repeating her question and asking for her clothes.

  ‘To Lathom and then to Merebury. Here, daughter. I’ll help you to dress…and do open your eyes. The wind has blown all the clouds away and it’s a lovely day.’

  ‘But they did not say they were going to Lathom today…and it’s freezing!’ said Kate, shivering as her mother enveloped her in her red kirtle.

  ‘Diccon is impatient to see what changes might have been made at Merebury and Master ap Rowan will not allow him to go alone. Perhaps he, too, wants to see how the land lies and what people are saying about us.’

  Kate gasped. ‘You should have woken me sooner.’

  ‘You were deep in sleep and looked so happy I didn’t like disturbing you. But then I thought you’d be angry if you didn’t have the chance to wave them off and wish them God speed.’ Beth thrust her daughter’s arms into her green woollen gown, the neck of which Kate had recently embroidered with leaves of yellow thread. She put on her shoes and, with her hair loose about her shoulders, hurried out of the bedchamber and along a stone flagged passage and into the hall.

  Owain was just about to leave when Kate called his name. He turned and she ran across the hall, her hair like a golden cloud about her pale face. He seized both her hands and for a moment neither of them spoke. Then she said crossly, ‘You would have gone without saying farewell.’

  ‘I knew you’d want to come and I thought you’d still be tired after yesterday’s journey.’ His eyes were concerned as he gazed down at her. ‘I will be back before you have chance to miss me. Make the most of your time here to rest and decide what to wear when you meet Sir Thomas.’

  ‘You will be on your guard?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Her brows puckered and her blue-green eyes were thoughtful. ‘You are not keeping another secret from me, are you, Owain?’

  He smiled faintly. ‘If I was, then it would only be because I value your safety. Now kiss me and I will see you on the morrow.’

  She wished she knew what he meant and still felt vexed with him. Even so she stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips against his, regardless of those watching. He returned her kiss and held her close before releasing her so abruptly that she had to reach out and cling to the doorpost to stop herself from falling. She looked up at her brother and thought she saw a suppressed excitement in his eyes. Then they were gone.

  ‘So that’s how the land lies,’ said Mistress Moore. ‘The sooner Master ap Rowan has Sir Thomas’s permission to marry you, mistress, the better, I say.’

  Kate was tempted to say that they were already wed, but decided she had kept her mouth shut this long, what did a few more days matter.

  After breaking her fast, Kate wanted to talk to her mother about the gown she was to wear when they met Sir Thomas, but she could not find Beth in the house and soon discovered Master Milburn was nowhere to be found either. When they did reappear, it was obvious they had eyes only for each other and whilst Kate did not begrudge them their delight in having discovered love in the autumn of their days, she would have enjoyed her mother’s company. She could not wait for that day to be over so as to be reunited with Owain once more.

  The next day Kate woke to find the bedchamber empty. She rose and felt that same nausea she had experienced yesterday, but this time she was unable to control the sickness and barely had time to drag out the chamber pot and vomit into it. Afterwards she lay on the bed, feeling a little better and with the realisation dawning on her that the reason for her sickness could be that she was with child. Her monthly courses were late. If that was so, then she had a surprise up her sleeve when she and Owain met with Sir Thomas. She could not wait to tell her secret to her husband.

  Chapter Fifteen

  After a late breakfast Kate kept Mistress Moore and Cicely company whilst she waited impatiently for the return of Owain and Diccon. But noon came and still they had not arrived. Her mother and Nat told her not to fret, saying that Owain could have been delayed at Lathom. He encouraged her to go for a walk with Cicely. Kate took up his suggestion and wrapping up warmly, she and the girl walked along the waterfront, watching the ferry plying its way across the river to the priory on the other side. There were other ships and small boats to watch and Kate could not help remembering shipboard life with Owain. She prayed that he and Diccon would be at the hall when she returned.

  But they weren’t and still Master Milburn and her mother seemed not to be concerned, saying that a horse could have thrown a shoe and delayed them. That evening Kate attempted to keep her anxiety at bay by teaching Cicely how to play chess, but it was soon obvious that the girl was more interested in Diccon, asking Kate whether he was betrothed yet or not.

  The next day Kate rose early, leaving her mother sleeping. She managed to reach the privy before being sick. An hour later, she felt better but ate little, still concerned about Owain and Diccon.

  Later that morning, Mistress Moore’s son arrived from his manor at Bankhall to the north of Liverpool. He had news of the dispute over the salvage rights, saying that Sir Thomas had settled the matter.

  Nat asked him if he had heard anything of Owain ap Rowan. ‘Aye! He was in disagreement with the local prior at Burscough over the will of Lady Catherine. Rumour has it she died on pilgrimage and left all her property to her companion, a Mistress Kate Fletcher. Apparently there are two wills and the abbot says that the one Master ap Rowan gave to Sir Thomas Stanley must be a forgery and that the Lady promised her property to his priory so prayers could be said in perpetuity for her soul.’

  Kate, who had been listening in anger to the conversation between the two men, sprang to her feet. ‘That’s not true! If she had meant to leave money to the church, it would have been the one at Merebury.’

  Master Moore looked at her in surprise. ‘It’s said that the prior had the will from the hand of the rector of Walton church.’

  ‘Who is a Molyneux! You must know as well as I do that they and the Stanleys are always trying to score off each other,�
� snapped Kate. ‘He has betrayed Lady Catherine’s wishes. Perhaps because she confided in him that I was a Stanley.’

  ‘These are only rumours and no doubt Sir Thomas will see that justice is done now he has finished with the other matter,’ said Nat, soothingly.

  Master Moore agreed and, placing a hand on his kinsman’s shoulder, said, ‘Now I need to talk business with you, Nat.’

  Kate left them to it but she was not satisfied.

  A grim-faced Owain swept out of the judgement hall. When it came to money and possessions there were those in the church who would deny truth. He and the lawyer had been arguing his and Kate’s case all yesterday and most of today in the church court. The Bishop had ruled that no decision could be made on Kate’s claim to Merebury until Sir Thomas produced the will he had sent to him or the King regained his wits. In the meantime, perhaps, she should be brought before the court to answer the rumours that had been rife in the area since she and her family had disappeared with the Lady Catherine after Sir Roger Miles’s mysterious death. This was what Owain had feared and he knew he had to speak to Sir Thomas immediately. As for Diccon, he had his orders to keep well out of sight. Besides, he had another task to perform.

  Unfortunately, when Owain arrived at Lathom, it was to be informed that Sir Thomas had received a message that required his instant departure. It occurred to Owain that the message might not be genuine. Worried about Kate’s safety, he decided to return to Liverpool. He hurried to the stables but, no sooner had he stepped inside the building, than he felt a blow to the back of his head. He staggered and his hand went to his sword, but, before he could use it, he was hit again and slumped to the ground.

  Kate could stay in bed no longer. She’d had such a nightmare that she had woken in terror in the wee small hours and been unable to get back to sleep. With the dawn she decided she must do something. Yesterday had dragged by as she had waited for Owain’s return, but he had not come. She feared for his safety and would not wait any longer. Especially when she had such good news to tell him.

  Suddenly the dogs began to bark and Kate’s heart lifted. Perhaps Owain and Diccon had returned at last and her nightmare had been just a result of her overwrought state. She hurried to the window to see two monks inside the courtyard. Their horses were in a lather and she could see blood where one had spurred the poor animal. That rider was a tall man and of stocky build and bellowed for a stable boy. He pushed back his hood and she could see his profile clearly and recognised him as one of the monks from Burscough Priory. Her heart began to beat with heavy strokes, setting her a-tremble. Had they come for her?

  Suddenly Kate heard Mrs Moore’s voice and realised she must have come out of the house. Kate heard her name mentioned and was filled with trepidation. The next moment the old woman invited the monks into the house.

  Kate delayed no longer, but dressed swiftly, fighting against the now familiar nausea. She tied up her hair in a linen veil and then pulled on a hat and fastened her cloak before easing her hands into soft leather gloves. Beth murmured in her sleep and Kate hesitated. Should she delay and wake her mother? She was certain that Master Milburn would see that no harm came to her. She decided she could delay no longer. She would make for Merebury and hope to find Owain and Diccon there.

  Having made her decision, Kate climbed out of the window. Hugging the wall of the building she made her way to the stables, glad that the day was dry, cold and crisp. The stable lad looked at her in surprise and asked was there aught he could do for her.

  She shook her head and saddled up the only decent horse left in the stable. She told him that she was off to Knowsley to speak to her kinsman and led the horse to the mounting block. Her heart was thumping in her chest. She heard her name being called as she mounted. Without delay she dug her heels into the horse’s flanks and urged it towards the gateway. She was aware of a sense of urgency and could only hope that nothing evil had befallen Owain and Diccon.

  It was past noon by the time Kate passed through the forest of Ince Blundell, and she had covered half the distance to Merebury. Clear skies had given way to clouds that had swiftly blanketed out the sun. She thought that before the day was out, it would be snow. She was hungry and thirsty, but dared not stop. That sense of urgency was still with her and she knew that she must put more miles behind her before she dared consider resting and seeking succour.

  Owain attempted to ease the agonising cramp in his calf, but he was bound with leather straps by his hands and his feet in a space smaller than that of the average-size coffin. He was unable to stretch out fully. When he had first gained consciousness it was with a splitting headache, and the Comte’s voice had been coming at him from a distance, demanding to know where the chest of money was that Richard Fletcher had stolen and hidden. Owain did not remember giving him an answer, but had drifted in and out of consciousness. There had been one terrifying moment, on waking, when he had wondered whether he had revealed Kate’s whereabouts because there had been no voice demanding answers from him. Now he was fully awake and it was pitch dark. Perhaps the Comte had finished with him and buried him alive. Then as the minutes ticked by and he could still breathe, Owain realised that what lay beneath him was stone. Perhaps he was in a sarcophagus, and, knowing it would be impossible for him to kick off the lid, he almost despaired. Then by dint of searching with his fingertips and tongue he discovered that there were gaps between the stones and he could smell vegetation. Which meant two things: he was not going to suffocate, but that air was icy cold, so, unless he could get out of his prison soon, he would freeze to death.

  He spent the next hour struggling against his bonds and trying to figure out where he could be. He could only pray that Diccon was still free and Kate was safe in Liverpool. He did not want to believe that he could have betrayed her to the Comte whilst half-conscious. His eyes had now become accustomed to his surroundings and it seemed to him that it was lighter. In truth, it was a strange white light coming through the cracks, but it revealed to him that he was lying between what looked to be large chunks of limestone.

  He was reminded of an allée couverte built by the Celts in Brittany. Taking note of the way his prison was constructed, he decided that most likely the stone overhead could be moved. Immediately he set about trying to shift it; no mean task in such a cramped space, but at least he would get warm in the attempt and he just might succeed. He also decided to shout for help every now and then, in the hope of attracting the attention of a shepherd or Diccon.

  The first flakes of snow began to fall as Kate reached the outskirts of the market town of Ormskirk, but she knew that she dared not stop if she was to reach Merebury before nightfall. Skirting the town, she rode on. She felt exhausted and the horse was tiring and could only plod along now. She came to a crossroads and took the left fork. Already the snow was beginning to blanket the fields and woods. It altered the familiar outline of the land and she knew that, if she wandered off the path in the dying light of day, she could lose her life.

  Suddenly she thought she saw a light. It disappeared only to reappear. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck. Perhaps it was a will’ o’ the wisp. Then she realised the light came from a lantern on a stick and was being carried by a dark hooded figure. Now where could he be going at this time of day?

  Kate slid from the horse, only to collapse in the snow as her legs gave way. For a moment she lay there, her whole body aching with exhaustion. She did not want to move, but knew she had to for Owain and their child’s sake. Forcing herself to her feet, she took hold of the reins and stumbled forward, needing to get her limbs moving. She was determined to see where the hooded figure was going, sensing he was up to no good.

  Her feet sank into the snow, but at least she made no sound as she moved stealthily in the wake of the lantern bearer. Within moments she realised he was heading in the direction of the limestone quarry that lay in the vicinity of the place where Richard Fletcher had fallen to his death. Only for an instant did she question the wisdom
of her actions in following him. Even so, she continued to dog his footsteps. Snowflakes clung to her eyelashes and she had to keep wiping them away. Then, praise be, the snow began to ease off and suddenly it stopped altogether. With the remaining light in the sky reflecting on the snowy ground, it was enough for her to see where she was going. Cautiously she rounded a rocky outcrop only to be seized and whirled round. The lantern was held aloft and its light shone on her face, almost blinding her.

  ‘Mam’selle Fletcher,’ said the Comte, staring down at her in astonishment. ‘Eet must be sorcery which brings you here.’

  As Kate looked up into that hawk-like profile, she fought down her fear. Her instincts had been right when she had followed him, but she did not underestimate the danger to herself. She must keep calm. ‘I have no truck with the devil. I answer to a higher power. M’sieur le Comte, you should fear for your soul this night.’

  His face twisted in an ugly scowl. ‘You would threaten me, mam’ selle?’ he sneered, and bringing up his hand, he would have hit her if she had not lashed out at him with both hands.

  Thrown off balance, he staggered back and dropped the lantern in the snow. She lunged for the stick and seized it at the same time as he did. They struggled for it, Kate’s desperation making her strength almost equal to his, but eventually he managed to wrench it from her hands. As he lifted it to whack her with it, she ducked and caught him in the midriff with her head. He gasped, but dropped the stick and put both his arms round her.