Child of the Phoenix

eyes grew still on Eleyne’s face. ‘You love a king, cariad, remember that. Your future is in Scotland with him, not with your milksop earl.’

Eleyne was too shocked to speak immediately: ‘So, it was you who started these evil rumours!’ Her eyes flashed with anger. ‘How dare you! And you are wrong. What you are saying is wicked, evil! It is John I love. John!’ The forest was silent as the two women faced each other, save for the distant ringing call of a blackbird hidden in the thicket.

‘So.’ Rhonwen raised an eyebrow. ‘You really believe that? Oh, how he’s got you tamed! I can see the jesses around your ankles.’ She stood up restlessly. ‘He’s not man enough to have got you with child yet, I see.’

Eleyne coloured violently. ‘That’s a vicious thing to say… and not true. I was pregnant, I think. Only I lost it before it was real, and that was my fault. I love John. He is kind and good and caring, and he is my man. I want no other.’ She too stood up. ‘I want no more of this gossip. I understand why you are bitter and unhappy but it’s all your fault. How could you kill Cenydd? He was a good man. I thought you loved him.’

‘I did love him, after a fashion.’ Rhonwen was defiant. ‘I did not mean to kill him. He was useful.’ She grimaced. ‘I had never killed a man before. Now I have killed three people.’

Eleyne closed her eyes. The unease she had felt from the first moment Rhonwen had begun to speak deepened into horror. She looked at Rhonwen for some sign of sorrow or remorse. She saw neither.

‘You are in a state of mortal sin,’ she whispered.

‘Sin?’ Rhonwen gave a bitter laugh. ‘Maybe. For Cenydd I shall have to pay, one day. For the other two, no. They were robbers, nobodies. Cutting Madoc’s throat was no harder than wringing the neck of a chicken. I’ll not burn in your Christian priests’ hell for them.’

‘Oh, Rhonwen.’ Eleyne was despairing.

‘You’re shocked. Now our roles are reversed, cariad. Suddenly you’re the dutiful lady and I’m the rebel, in my stolen monk’s cloak and my threadbare shoes.’ She stood very close to Eleyne. ‘I was like a mother to you, you will not forsake me now. You will find a way to go to the king and obtain my pardon. Your English earl does not have to know.’

‘Of course he has to know. I won’t deceive him.’

Rhonwen narrowed her eyes. ‘Are you saying you won’t help me?’

‘Of course not! I will help you in every way I can.’

‘As long as you don’t have to go to the king.’

‘I will try to persuade John – ’

‘No, cariad, your earl will not lift a finger for me. He would have me arrested, so I would have to disappear into the forest forever. You would never see me again.’

Eleyne frowned, but not with the fear Rhonwen had hoped to see. She had changed, had learned to live without her. ‘You’ll never find me,’ she repeated, ‘never.’

‘Then how will I reach you?’

‘You won’t. When you have the pardon I will reach you. The people of the greenwood have their methods.’ The mocking smile deepened. ‘But don’t leave it too long, cariad. I need that pardon.’

XIII

Robin threw back his head and laughed. ‘So, your nurse is a forest outlaw, with a string of murders behind her! Does this explain why my lady countess is such a spirited rebel?’

‘It’s not funny, Robin. I have to find a way to help her.’ Eleyne had reined in her horse beside him, a pretty merlin on her wrist.

‘You have offered her money?’

‘Of course.’

His eyes were shrewd in the bright spring sunlight. Their attendants had drawn back and they could talk alone. ‘Am I right in thinking you don’t necessarily want her back?’

‘She frightened me.’ Eleyne sighed. ‘But I want what is best for her. And I want what is best for my husband.’

‘He loathes her of course. He has spoken to me about her. You know he thinks she is dead. It might be best if he went on thinking that.’ He wrinkled his brow thoughtfully. ‘Of course, you could always do both. Promise her you will speak to the king when you see him, on condition that she goes as far away as possible, and in the meantime give her enough money to live comfortably in London or Winchester or somewhere far away, under an assumed name.’

Eleyne stroked the soft russet breast feathers of the bird on her wrist as it settled trustingly against her. ‘It might work.’

‘It will work, if you are firm enough. Then you can forget her. John wants to go back to Chester. She won’t dare follow you there.’ He gazed up at the trees, their leaves dappled by the sunlight against a sky of purest sapphire. ‘You know,’ he went on, ‘I almost envy her her life in the forest. At this time of year it must be glorious to acknowledge no master, to lie where you please, to eat the king’s deer till you are too fat to move.’

‘I don’t think so. She is afraid, and the nights must be cold and wet and lonely.’

‘Don’t you believe it. She will have found herself a man by now.’ He gathered up his reins. ‘Come on, we have a long way to go.’

XIV

‘So you are going to send me away.’ Rhonwen clutched the bag of coins Eleyne had pressed into her hand.

‘Only until I can see the king and speak to him about you. You can’t come back with me, you must see that.’

‘Oh yes, I see that.’ Rhonwen’s voice was bitter. ‘You dare not upset your husband. You dare not ask him a favour or beg for your old nurse.’

‘It’s not that I don’t dare, Rhonwen.’ Eleyne tried to keep the impatience out of her voice. ‘It’s that there is no point. He will not relent, and I do not wish to have him upset. He has not been well.’

‘Again.’ Rhonwen threw the money on the ground beside her. ‘So you will not be leaving after all?’

‘We are, we leave at first light. That is why I wanted to see you, to say goodbye and to promise that I will do my best. There is enough money here to last you a long time. It will buy you a roof and food and a servant wherever you want to go. When you have found somewhere to live, write to me with your address. You must choose another name, a name only you and I will know.’

Rhonwen looked down at the heavy bundle of coins near her feet. ‘What name shall I choose, cariad?’ she asked with an enigmatic smile.

Eleyne breathed a sigh of relief. ‘We shall call you Susanna. And you shall be a poet and a scholar, writing to me of matters of deep philosophy and wit. From time to time, when we are at the court in Westminster or Winchester or wherever it is that you are living, I shall call on you privately and buy your books for enormous sums of gold.’

‘So you don’t envisage the king giving me a pardon very soon,’ Rhonwen said drily.

‘I will try.’ Eleyne kissed her. ‘I promise.’

‘But still the earl stands between me and my freedom.’ Rhonwen hesitated, then almost sadly she put her hand into her scrip and pulled out a small linen pouch. ‘To show I am more forgiving than he, I have gathered some herbs in the forest for him, to stop his weakness returning. Infuse these and make him drink them.’

Eleyne took the pouch and clutched Rhonwen’s hand with a sudden rush of gratitude. ‘I have missed you so much while he has been ill. It was always your medicines which helped him. Thank you.’

Rhonwen raised an eyebrow.

‘So, you have missed me? I was beginning to wonder whether I should do better to forget you. No, don’t swear your undying love. I know you love me, but you have grown up now. You have changed, moved on. You don’t want