A Thorn In The Rose: A War Of The Roses TL
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I fear who York will be soon forced by his enemies (Somerset and Marguerite) to rebel as his relationship with Henry VI will be totally brokenOh, that's true
VVD0D95
Banned
Margaret might be a bit busy with repairing things with Henry, but Somerset? Oh most definitely
Heh, I was expecting Margaret to order York's detainment/execution or something in this chapter.
Chapter 56: Buckingham Soiree
VVD0D95
Banned
Chapter 56: Buckingham Soiree
August, 1456
August, 1456
“What is our financial position?” The King asked.
The question was so sudden that Humphrey was caught off guard, the King had not asked him something like this before. He had to do some quick calculations to remember the rough figures that Norfolk had given him before he replied. “We are stronger than we were this time last year, Sire.”
“And our debts?” The King asked.
“We have just one outstanding debt to the Milanese and then we are sorted.” Humphrey said, that was the debt that was eating up much of his and Norfolk’s time as they tried to decide where the money was going to come from.
The King nodded. “Use the money from the revenues of the Duchy of Lancaster to pay off the Milanese.”
Humphrey frowned, that Duchy had helped pay for the roads that had been built and for the new fortresses along the border with Scotland, and still it had more money than most other Duchies did. “Are you sure, Sire?” Humphrey asked, he didn’t want to do something that the King would later regret.
“Yes.” The King said. “We do not want this debt growing, we know what the Milanese are like.”
Humphrey nodded. “Very well, Sire, I shall inform Norfolk of this decision.”
“Good.” The King said. “And once that debt is paid, we shall be clear.”
“We shall, Sire.” Humphrey said, not wanting to mention the mountain of money that was owed to York for his services rendered in Normandy over the years.
“Good.” The King said, his face becoming somewhat serene before it changed and a line of worry crossed his face. “Tell me something, Humphrey.”
“Sire?” Humphrey replied wondering what the King wanted to know.
“What do you make of York?” The King asked.
Humphrey shifted slightly, this was a question he had been dreading. York, the man was many things, not one of them could be adequately surmised in just a few words, and yet judging by the look of expectation on the King’s face, that was what he was meant to do. He cleared his throat and then said. “I think that the Duke of York is a good man, a hard worker who is loyal.” That was about as neat a summary he could offer, without darkening the edges.
“And do you think he is capable of recommending a doctor who would sabotage the birth of a Princess?” The King asked.
Humphrey was surprised by this question, he had heard rumours that something had happened involving the Doctor responsible for overseeing the Queen’s final labour, but he didn’t know what to say in response to this. He didn’t think York would do something as foolish as recommend a doctor who would harm the pregnancy, but, clearly if the King was asking him this, someone must have put the idea in his head. Carefully, he said. “I do not think he would, Sire.”
“Then how do you explain him recommending the doctor who he dismissed for irregularities during the last pregnancy of his wife?” The King demanded.
The King’s eyes were wide and challenging, demanding Humphrey say anything, anything at all that might challenge his preconceived notions. Humphrey took a breath and then said. “I think that the Duke of York may have realised his dismissal of the Doctor was done in grief and after calming down and overcoming grief may have realised that the Doctor was the best in his field.”
“How do you know that?” The King demanded.
Humphrey shifted again, wondering if the King had forgotten the checks that he had ordered into the man before allowing him to come to aid the Queen. He cleared his throat and then said. “I spoke with York before Her Grace went into labour, and spoke with others who had worked with the Doctor, Sire. I presented my findings to you about them.”
The King’s eyes widened then as if he was remembering a long forgotten conversation. The man took a deep shuddering breath then said. “Of course.”
Humphrey nodded and then tentatively asked. “Who suggested York did this deliberately, Sire?”
“Somerset.” The King said. “Why?”
Of course, it was that snake. Humphrey thought, Somerset hated York that much Humphrey knew and if it were he who had been spreading all sorts of aspersions on York’s character then that did not surprise him. Of course, the King and the Queen both trusted Somerset, so he needed to say this next thing very carefully. “I would take a bit of caution before believing everything Lord Somerset says, Sire.”
“You think he is trying to undermine York?” The King asked.
Humphrey was slightly surprised that the King had that much lucidity about this issue to know that. He had always thought the King was either naïve to the quarrels going on in his realm or chose not to deal with them. But clearly he had been wrong. “Yes, Sire, I do.”
The King sighed and for the first time looked as though the weight of the world was pressing down on him, his shoulders sagged and his brow was lined. “What do I do with him?”
“Sire?” Humphrey asked wondering if the King was asking him or merely speaking out loud.
The King looked at him and said. “What do I do with Somerset? He has been loyal but he is causing problems. More problems than he is solving.”
Something Norfolk had said to him about keeping the peace flitted into his head then. “You could send him to Wales, Sire. Or keep him in London but not on the council.”
“Edmund would not accept being sent to Wales, and it would interfere with what his son and Warwick are doing there. But keeping him in London and not on the Council could serve.” The King said.
“Then do that, Sire. Keep him close, but not so close that York can mutter about it.” Humphrey said, wondering if he was taking the right route or not.
The King took a deep breath and then said. “I shall do as you suggest, Humphrey.” Humphrey nodded, satisfied that the King was listening, but also knowing he would need to be prepared if something went wrong.
So do I! I hope he can hold the country together... Although with Somerset, Margaret, Warwick and York around, I have my doubts...
York what has done? He is the victim here... Hopefully Henry can keep England united but he need to put clearly York over Somerset for getting that result
Oh this is promising... Hopefully Somerset dosen't find a way to weasel his way back into Henry's affections.. Excellent chapter!
Is not like he has much choice in that matter...There is his planned assassination of an Earl
Glad you liked it
Chapter 57: Kill Dare
VVD0D95
Banned
Chapter 57: Kill Dare
September, 1456
September, 1456
It had taken months, but they’d finally managed to get to this point. Thomas FitzGerald, Earl of Kildare and trusted confidant to the Duke of York was sat inside a rather large tent, awaiting the Earl of Ormond so that they might discuss bringing an end their feud. The Duke of York was visiting his estates in Ulster, and Ormond had refused to come to Dublin, so instead they’d chosen a midway point. The Forest of Dempsey, which straddled their two Earldoms and was protected by hills on either side. The perfect place for a secure meeting for or someone to wait in ambush if they were so inclined.
Thomas pushed that thought to one side, and looked up as the tent flap opened. “He’s here, my lord.” Thomas’ cousin William said.
“Show him in.” Thomas commanded, standing up.
William nodded and disappeared, a few moments later, William reappeared and announced. “His Lordship the Earl of Ormond.” William then stepped to one side and allowed James Butler, Earl of Ormond and a prominent supporter of the Duke of Somerset to enter. Butler was tall and fair, he was handsome of that there was no doubt, and he was arrogant. The way his shoulders bunched together suggested as much.
“James.” Thomas said extending a hand as Butler came to stand before him.
“Thomas.” Butler replied taking his hand and shaking it.
Thomas watched as the servants brought a chair and placed it behind Butler. “Please, have a seat.” Thomas said. Butler obliged and sat down. “Wine?” Thomas asked.
“Please.” Butler answered, Thomas looked at William who nodded and muttered something to one of the servants. A few moments passed and then a table was brought and placed before them with two cups of wine placed on it shortly after.
A beat passed, Thomas watched as Butler picked up the cup, smelt it and then drank. Thomas placed his lips to his own cup, and had a small sip. He bit back a wince. He disliked wine. Always had. Thomas put his cup back down on the table and waited for Butler to finish drinking, once the man was done, he spoke. “Thank you for coming, James, I know that things are getting quite busy in your Earldom, what with the clan raids and all.” Raids which York had authorised to force Butler to come here.
“It is nothing, you said you wished to discuss something, so here I am.” Butler answered.
At least he’s gotten right to the point. Thomas thought to himself, that was good, it would enable them to get this over with sooner. “Very well, I want to discuss ending the feud between your family and mine.”
Butler leaned forward. “I am listening.”
Thomas nodded and continued. “I know that fault lies on both sides, but on my part I wish to apologise for the conduct of various members of my family. We crossed a line and I acknowledge that.” He didn’t think what his uncle John had done was wrong per say, but he knew that those were the words that he had to say.
“I thank you for that acknowledgement.” Butler said. “And I also recognise that my own family have strayed into error on occasion.”
Thomas repressed a snort, Butler’s brother and cousins had burned parts of the southern farmlands on Thomas’ estates, he could hardly consider an error. “Thank you.” Thomas said.
“SO, are we just going to be exchanging pleasantries or actually doing something substantive about this?” Butler asked.
Thomas bit back the retort that was at the tip of his tongue, he knew he needed to play nice, so as not to arouse Butler’s suspicion. “I propose we sign an agreement, which will stipulate that we end all hostilities between our two families for a period of five years. We shall return to fair trade and acknowledgement of Dublin’s control over us. Should either of us break the terms of this agreement we shall face judgement from Dublin.”
Butler’s eyes widened slightly and his tone was suspicious when he asked. “Is this what York has proposed?”
No. “Yes.” Thomas lied.
Butler leaned back in his chair and snorted. “Very well, I shall agree to this. But there’s something else I want.”
Thomas refused to roll his eyes, of course Butler would want something more. “And what is that?”
“Your daughter’s hand in marriage for my brother.” Butler said.
Thomas wanted to swear, his daughter Eleanor had only just turned ten, she was far too young to marry someone such as Butler’s brother, but he supposed the marriage need not go through given what was about to happen to Butler. “Very well, I agree.”
Butler smiled. “Excellent.” The man extended his hand and Thomas extended his and they shook there and then.
“Would you care to stay for a while?” Thomas asked, after they’d removed their hands from one another’s grasp.
Butler shook his head. “I cannot, I have a young wife waiting for me.”
“Ah, of course.” Thomas said. “Then I shall not keep you.” Butler stood up, prompting Thomas to do the same, they walked to the tent’s entrance, shook hands and then Butler departed. Thomas stood there, watching the man mount his horse and then disappear accompanied by his guard, and then he walked back inside.
After what seemed like an age, the tent opened again and William walked in. “He’s gone.”
“Good.” Thomas said, rising. “I want this tent brought down and I want the men ready to ride.”
“My lord.” William replied, bowing once before turning and leaving the tent. Thomas stood where he was for a moment and then followed his cousin out. He was greeted by the sight of his cousin barking orders, servants hurried past him to dismantle the tent, and Thomas walked to where his horse had been kept. The animal was munching on some grass and raised its head at his approach.
Thomas whistled and one of the servants appeared to hold the horse’s reins. Thomas then got onto the saddle and nodded his thanks to the servant. He then moved the horse forward so that it was in the centre of the camp. As loudly as he could he said. “We shall ride for nearest hill. Those dismantling the tent, burn what is left of it, and meet us there.” With that he urged his horse forward and rode, a few moments passed and then he heard other horses’ hooves indicating his men had followed.
They continued to ride for perhaps twenty minutes until he held up a hand and stopped the procession. They had come to the nearest hill’s base. They would wait here until one of Leinster’s men appeared to give them the news. If all went well, then that should be soon enough. Butler would fall and everything would begin to be put into place.
Butler was arrogant, his brother was empty headed. The dynasty would fall and everything would improve, rather drastically, that was a good thing as far as Thomas was concerned, especially if the Duke of York gave him the Earldom of Ormond, which would enable him to build the block linking Kildare with Desmond. A solid block in the south and then they could work their way through the rest of Ireland.
“My lord?” Someone’s voice interrupted his musings.
Thomas blinked and saw William standing before him. “What is it?”
“A messenger from Leinster, my lord.” William replied.
“Show him here.” Thomas commanded, William bowed and hurried away, appearing a few moments later with a short red headed man who bowed and then in the thick Gaelic said.
“It is done, Ormond is dead as are his guards.”
“Nobody was left alive?” Thomas replied in slightly accented Gaelic.
“No one.” The man said.
“Good.” Thomas replied. The man bowed and then turned and walked away. Thomas watched him go before looking at his men and saying. “We ride for Kildare.”
Now that Henry VI seems to recover his wits, the Irish decide to lose their marbles.