Free Morgan the Rogue by Lynn Granville

to be because of the lord's absence.  It was clear that the people here were loyal to their lady, prepared to serve her in whatever way she asked, and he understood that such loyalty did not come lightly; it must be  earned.
                  'It shall be my pleasure,' he said and rose to his feet, taking up the lute he had brought with him to supper and walking from behind the board to stand before her.  'This is for you, lady – and for your friends.'
                  First of all he sang in English, a merry song of lovers playing a jest on each other, then another, sadder, tale of unrequited love and a lover left to pine for the lady who had left him for another.  After that he sang a Welsh song written by one of Wales's greatest poets Dafydd ap Gwilym, his rich deep voice portraying all the melancholy and despair of a people driven from their lands.
                  When he finished his song and went back to sit beside Rosamund, she was wiping a tear from her cheek.  Her eyes sought his and for a moment he imagined that she was trying to offer him an apology, as if she felt herself guilty for what had been done to his people so long ago, but in a moment the look was gone and he might have imagined it.
                  'You sing with great feeling, sir,' she said and rose to her feet, giving him her hand as he rose once more to take it, towering over her.  'I thank you and shall hope to hear more another night.  Forgive me now, I must leave for there is much to be done before we depart and I want to be on my way soon after dawn. Until I retire to my chamber the work cannot commence.'
                  He kissed her hand.
                  'God give you sweet rest, lady.'
                  'And you, sir.'
                  He watched as she walked from the hall, half expecting it to be the signal for the men to behave in a bawdy fashion or drink themselves into a stupor as so often happened when the ladies had left for the evening.
                  Instead, he saw that the servants set immediately to clearing the board of the food left strewn upon it, which was a signal for others to begin what was clearly the huge task of packing everything within the house.
                  'May I be of help?' Morgan asked William Baldry as he caught sight of the man scurrying about, ordering the stowing of various goods.  'I can help load the wagons if you like?'
                  'My lady has ordered all her possession stripped from this place,' William said.  'Most will be sent to her castle at Caris and she will take only clothing and personal items with her to meet….' He broke off abruptly.
                  'Lady Rosamund has told me something of her plans,' Morgan said.  'Tell me what I may do and I shall be glad to help.'
                  'We need all the hands we can get,' William said, pleased with the offer.  The Welshman was strong and with shoulders like his could carry as much as two others might.  'My lady's chairs, the stools and benches – all the boards and trestles must be loaded on the first carts.  The kitchen chattels may be left to others and will travel on another wagon – apart from those we shall need on our journey, which will go on the mules.  When that is done the women may need help with some of the hangings…'
                  Morgan set to work with a will, wondering as he lifted and carried various items what the lord would think should he return and find his castle stripped bare.  It was the custom to take the household goods from place to place, but not to strip everything as completely as had been ordered here.  The Lady Rosamund must be planning a long stay at her Welsh fortress…
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    Rosamund sent the baggage train on its separate way an hour or two after the small train crossed the border into Wales; two of her women, most of