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Page 152
jest. . . . And now she is dead, poor foolish woman."
"And just as well, too," Simon retorted in a hard voice. "You are a fool if you waste any grief over her. She knew what Madog intended, and if she really thought you a witch, it was her right to accuse you"
"Do not be silly, Simon," Rhiannon said softly and sadly. "How could a nobody like Mallt find the courage to accuse Prince Llewelyn's daughter of being a witch? It cannot be unknown that the same kind of rumors were afoot about my motherand Llewelyn lay with her notwithstanding. I am a favorite, too. . . ."
"Mallt was a mean, vicious bitch, and the world is none the worse for her loss," Simon said comfortingly, but his voice was absent. He had found Madog's trail.
The question occupying his mind while he comforted Rhiannon was whether it was worth pursuing Madog. Simon was not sure he could catch up to him if he carried Rhiannon, and he would not consider leaving her alone even for a minute, much less for the time it would take to pursue Madog and drag him back. Nor could Rhiannon come with him under her own power. He knew that feeling was returning to her hands and feet because he had noticed she was moving her arms and legs uneasily as she sought to relieve the pain of the blood returning. Still, it would be some time before she could walk.
Rhiannon realized what must be going through Simon's mind. "Go after him," she urged, "not for me, but because a man who would murder his own partner in crime is an evil thing. Poor Mallt. I am not afraid to stay here. Leave me your knife. I will soon be able to use it."
"Oh, no! You will not go out from under my eye until I have you back safe under your father's."
"You will not tell him! No, Simon! No!"
Simon swung her up into his arms. "What do you mean 'no'? Do you think I intend to allow Madog to get

 
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