Chapter 76: Birmingham: Clown's Fool
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Chapter 76: Birmingham: Clown’s Fool
May, 1457
May, 1457
“Where in the name of Saint Edward is Paston?” Henry muttered to himself. He looked out of the window onto the courtyard and grumbled to himself. It had been roughly an hour and a half since Paston had been sent out to deliver a message to York. He should have been back by now.
Henry turned around and looked at Buckingham. “Has any word come?” He demanded.
“No, Sire.” Buckingham replied shaking his head.
“Saint Edward’s Ghost!” Henry cursed, using the curse Cardinal Beaufort had taught him many years ago. “Where in the name of the Holy Spirit is he?”
He turned back around and looked out the window. He could see Lord Birmingham’s son playing with two or three of his friends, or were they his siblings? Henry didn’t know, and he didn’t care. Birmingham was a nice man, but this was something else. He wanted out of here as soon as possible.
“Sire.” Someone said.
Henry whirled around and found Somerset standing there, a strange expression on his face. Henry fought back disappointment and anger. Why was Somerset always hovering over him? “What?!” He demanded.
“Is it possible that York has done something to Paston?” Somerset asked tentatively.
Henry frowned. “Why would York do something to Paston?” Somerset seemed oddly keen to paint York as a villain, had he always been like that? Henry didn’t know, but it was beginning to grate at him.
“Any number of reasons, Sire.” Somerset said.
Henry felt his frown deepen. “What are you suggesting?”
Somerset raised his hands. “I am suggesting nothing, Sire. Merely proposing.”
“What is the difference?” Henry asked, he hated these games. He always had.
Somerset said nothing for a moment, but a wry smile came over him, that smile made Henry want to punch him. Instead, he took a breath and waited, the man would reveal what he meant, he always did, in the end. Eventually the answer came. “I am proposing that York might have done something to Paston to get a message across, any message, so that he can make his point.”
“And what point would that be?” Henry demanded.
Before Somerset could answer, there was a knock on the door. “Come.” Henry commanded, the door opened and in walked a guard, dressed in the Royal Livery.
The guard bowed and then said. “Sire, Sir William Paston is here.”
Henry nodded. “Show him in.” He noticed Somerset’s face change then. It went from confident to confused, why would he look confused?
A moment later, Paston entered, and his appearance shocked Henry. The man was covered in mud and blood. He had cuts all over and he was bleeding profusely. Paston bowed. And nearly fainted, Somerset had to rush to help him stand up.
“What happened to you?” Henry demanded, his heart racing, had York done this?”
Paston blinked at him as if not quite knowing who he was looking at. His words were slurred. “I gave the message to York…. he refused to go to where Your Grace wanted him to go…. said I would tell Your Grace about where he wanted to go…. I was attacked.”
“Attacked?” Henry asked. “Attacked by who?”
Paston swayed slightly. “I… I… I don’t know, they wore red with….l….lions.”
“Red with lions?” Henry asked.
Paston nodded and then lurched forward. He only just managed to stop himself falling over but blood landed near Henry. He closed his eyes and said. “Take him to see the doctor.” Two guards appeared and escorted Paston out of the room.
The door shut behind them. Henry looked at Norfolk, the man was Earl Marshal and responsible for these sorts of things. “Who has a red sigil with lions?”
Norfolk thought for a moment and then said. “Acton.”
“Acton?” Henry asked, he’d never heard of the man before.
“Yes, Sire, they were granted the right to bear a crest during the reign of Your Grace’s grandfather’s reign.” Norfolk answered.
“Why would they attack Paston?” Henry asked.
Nobody said anything, which surprised Henry, he would’ve thought Somerset would be right there to provide some form of answer. Instead he remained silent. Eventually, Henry asked. “Where do the Actons have land?”
“Yorkshire and the Midlands, Sire.” Norfolk answered.
“Yorkshire?” Henry asked. A thought came to him then. “Could they be working for Salisbury?”
“It is certainly possible, Sire.” Norfolk said. “The Actons own part of their land due to service done for him.”
Henry looked at Buckingham then and asked. “Would Salisbury have reason to prevent a peaceful discussion happening here?”
Buckingham looked slightly taken aback by that question, and hesitated in his response. When he did reply, his words were muddled. “I do not know, Sire. Perhaps…. but perhaps not. Salisbury does not strike me as the sort to take such rash action.”
“Oh come now, Humphrey!” Somerset said. “We all know that this is something that Salisbury has wanted to do for a long time.”
“We don’t know that.” Buckingham replied.
“Yes. We do.” Somerset countered.
Henry sighed. His head was starting to hurt and listening to these conversations wasn’t doing him any good. “There is no point in going backwards and forwards about this. I want Salisbury and Acton summoned here to talk.”
“Sire?” Buckingham asked sounding surprised.
“I need to know what they did.” Henry said.
“And if they refuse to come?” Buckingham asked.
“Then they are traitors and should be dealt with accordingly.” Somerset said heatedly.
Henry glared at Somerset and then looked at Buckingham and said. “Then we shall handle them accordingly.”
“Who should be sent, Sire?” Buckingham asked.
Henry took a breath and then thought about it. Paston had been attacked, he was a neutral spectator, a lawyer. Would York and Salisbury dare attack one of his own retainers or someone attached to the family? He didn’t know, but he supposed the only way to find that out was to take the risk, therefore, looking at Somerset he said. “Send Edmund’s son and namesake.”
Somerset’s eyes widened. “Sire?” He asked.
“You have nothing to fear, I will let you go and tell your son, yourself.” Henry said, turning back to look outside the window, indicating that this conversation was done. Paston’s figure was etched into his mind.
