A Dishonorable Knight - By Morrison, Michelle Page 0,68
die for him without some assurances that Wales will benefit."
Lord Stanley nodded slowly and seemed to be considering something weighty. Finally he dropped his hands from his mouth as he sat forward. "You may rest assured that Wales will benefit should it support the true king."
When he seemed to have nothing else to say, Morgan looked at the men around the room and then said, "My Lord Stanley, surely you must realize that we cannot convince the farmers and shepherds with such a simple answer. Nay, even I in my conviction that Henry Tudor is the rightful king remember all too clearly how assurances can lose their priority once a goal such as the throne has been reached."
Lord Stanley clenched his teeth tightly. "Are you implying that I will not keep my word or that my stepson will so quickly forget the very people who helped him gain his birthright?"
In a calm, even voice that Gareth remembered so clearly from evening stories in front of the fire, Morgan replied, "Lord Stanley, if you will reflect on my words, I'm sure you will see I meant no disrespect. No one in all of Britain dare doubt your sincerity and no one here dare doubt your stepson's appreciation. Rather, we all know that running a kingdom is a terrific responsibility that requires a king's constant vigilance. In light of that, it would be perfectly understandable for King Henry to be overwhelmed by his responsibilities and be forced to relegate the task of appointing Welsh officers to the future, rather than trying to do everything at once." Gareth had been the subject of his father's rational logic too many times while growing up not to see that Lord Stanley was doomed. "All I ask you to understand is that the Welsh people are not as patient as their rightful sovereign is and they may misinterpret advance planning as forgetfulness. If His Majesty could see fit to perhaps deliver his assurances of change personally, he will be amazed at the number of men who will pour from the mountains of Wales to carry him to England."
Lord Stanley was visibly torn. "Perhaps he could send letters to you local lords and inform you of his plans for Wales."
Morgan smiled warmly. "That would be excellent. In the same missive with his instructions for our troops, of course."
Lord Stanley paused. "Of course."
Gareth breathed a sigh of relief, glad that he was not in Lord Stanley's shoes. Morgan always had a way of making you agree to things as if they had been your idea in the first place. With that the meeting was quickly concluded and the men stood to leave, some pausing to speak to Lord Stanley, others milling about uncertainly. Gareth wondered if they were still unconvinced of Stanley's promises, but he had no idea what had occurred before his arrival. His thoughts were interrupted by Morgan. "We thought you were dead or taken, son. 'Tis good to see you here and unharmed. Did you run into trouble?"
"Almost. We were accosted by a troop of English soldiers who were asking about Aberystwyth. We had to detour to make it look like we were heading to Cardiff."
"Why Cardiff?" Bryant asked.
Gareth smiled, remembering Elena's performance. "Elena told the soldiers we were traveling to Cardiff to visit her family."
"Quick thinking," Morgan mused.
"Did Bryant tell you how she escaped the convent to warn us of that Godless abbess?"
Morgan nodded. "A brave lass," he said with a knowing smile.
"He's on watch--Richard's men have been thick as flies around town trying to find out our meeting spot," Bryant answered.
Gareth looked at the fifteen or twenty men in the small room. "Isn't it going to look a little suspicious if these men leave a weaver's shop all at once?"
"Some of the men will exit out the back," Morgan explained as Bryant was called away by one of the other men. "When the men leave here, they'll go in ones and twos, many with packages of cloth to make it appear as if it is business as usual." Morgan laughed. "I think Samuel was anxious to have the meeting here so he could force us to buy fabric!"
"That reminds me. Do you have any money with you I could borrow?"
"Borrow? You needn't borrow money from me. You've never taken a dime for your work at Eyri Keep. You'll take what I have as little enough payment. But how does Samuel's textiles remind you of money?"