A Thorn In The Rose: A War Of The Roses TL
- Thread starter VVD0D95
- Start date
Chapter 106: London
VVD0D95
Banned
Chapter 106: London
December, 1458
December, 1458
London towered before them. Walls, towers, and guards were all before them. Richard felt a vague sense of triumph and nervousness as he beheld the sight. The journey here had been long and stressful, but it had been worth it. They had finally come within a hair’s breadth of achieving something that his own father had long wanted.
The battle in the Midlands had been bloody and long. Richard had allowed some of Egremont’s men to flee so that they would spread word of what had happened. It was the chivalrous thing to do after all. And most of them wouldn’t know just what had happened anyway, so they would be able to sow some chaos and confusion amongst the court.
Judging by what he’d seen on the way here, not many of the city folk had decided to flee. Indeed, they had lined the roads leading to this place, cheering and shouting his praises. That had been a strange sight for him. especially given his reception the last time he had marched on London.
Richard shook his head and put that thought behind him. That had been then, this was now. Now was the time to move forward and venture into the unknown. He took a breath. Egremont was dead, his body was lying in a ditch somewhere next to Dacre’s and Clifford’s. They had fought well and at one point Richard had worried that they might win, but experience and smarts had won Richard the day.
The gate opened and a figure rode out. It was the Keeper of the City Keys. “Who comes?” The man asked.
“Richard, Duke of York.” Richard replied.
“Why?” The man asked.
“I have come to claim the city in the King’s name.” Richard said.
“Which King?” the man asked.
Richard smiled, the man was someone he’d known for a long time, just as his father had known the man’s father. “The one true King.” Richard replied.
The man nodded and pulled out a set of keys. They didn’t actually do anything, but they were ceremonial, dating from the time of Edward the Confessor, it seemed. The man rode forward slightly and extended his hand. Richard extended his and took the keys. He held them up for his men to see and said. “Thank you, I promise to take good care of them.”
The man nodded then turned around and rode back into the city.
Richard watched the man go, then urged his horse forward and began the journey into the city. The moment his horse entered the place he had to scrunch his nose up. It smelt disgusting. Shit and piss and all sorts of other foul substances were mixing together to produce a putrid odour. He’d have to sort that out once he sat the throne. He could not and would not have his capital smelling like this.
His capital. It was his. By rights it was his. The throne was his as well. Richard smiled at that thought and continued urging his horse forward. He looked right and left and saw a variety of people lining the streets. Some were cheering, others were just staring at him. He wondered what they made of all of this. It had been some time since he’d last ridden into London, and back then he’d gone as a prisoner. Now, he was entering as a conqueror.
A part of Richard knew that he should make a speech, any sort of speech, but really that had never been his thing. His thing was fighting and conquering and then ruling. He’d been good at that in Normandy after Bedford had died, and he’d done a decent job of it in his own lands. Giving speeches was not something he’d ever perfected, and it was not something he wanted to perfect. He’d given that role to Salisbury or to Warwick.
The procession turned right into the old Wharf, which led to a series of barges that would take them to the Palace. Richard dismounted when he got as close to the water as he could without alarming his horse. He turned around and saw Salisbury and Warwick with him. Salisbury’s son Thomas was leading the rest of the men via the long route to the Palace.
Richard walked forward and handed a bag of coins to the wharf master. The man then led him to one of the barges, Richard got on, and watched as Warwick and Salisbury got on. Once they were all on the thing, it took off. A slow and steady procession up the river toward the Palace, and toward the throne.
Richard didn’t say anything as the barge moved up the river. He didn’t feel the need to. They’d achieved everything they’d had to, up until now. And they’d said everything they needed to. There would be time for talking later. Much later. Now was the time to drink everything in and ensure they didn’t forget it.
“His Highness Prince Edward is on the barge behind us, Sire.” Warwick said then. “He’s with Lord Latimer.”
Richard nodded. They’d agreed to do it that way so as to ensure that anyone trying to target them couldn’t get easy pickings.
The journey didn’t take all that long, and soon enough Richard was getting off the barge and onto another horse. Before the horse could move though, a group of people were riding toward them, at their head was the Duke of Norfolk and Richard’s son in law, the Duke of Exeter.
“Lord York.” Norfolk said, bringing his horse to a stop.
“Lord Norfolk.” Richard replied.
“Welcome to the City of Westminster. I trust your journey was well?” Norfolk asked.
“It was.” Richard said.
“You will be delighted to know that Henry of Westminster and his family have left the city.” Norfolk said.
“Where have they gone to?” Richard asked. He’d hoped Henry would flee, but now that he’d received the news, he just knew that a war would break out.
“Cornwall it seems.” Norfolk said.
“And their court?” Richard asked.
“Gone as well.” Norfolk said.
“So, the palace?” Richard asked.
“Is yours…..Your Grace.” Norfolk replied smiling.
London has always been Yorkist. No wonder he was cheered into the city.And the bit about the one true King was very clever wordplay. 😉 I rather liked this understated sense of triumph. Looking forward to more!
Good for york! Though I'm certain that taking london will be the least of his difficulties...
Chapter 107: Frustration
VVD0D95
Banned
Chapter 107: Frustration
January, 1459
January, 1459
Edmund Beaufort, Duke of Somerset paced up and down the room. He was trying to keep his frustration in check, but was doing a poor job of managing. How they had come to this situation he didn’t know. They were supposed to be leaders, they were supposed to be fighting for the God given King, and yet here they were in bloody Truro, waiting for something, anything to give so that they could strike. It was annoying.
“Edmund, stop doing that and sit down.” The King said tiredly.
Edmund did as he was bid and sat down, in a hardbacked chair.
“What news?” The King demanded.
“York has had a coronation.” Edmund said, his friends at court had told him that. He had been impressed by how quickly York had moved. He’d issued a manifesto and then had a coronation all within a month.
“Who crowned him?” The King asked, his voice sounding choked.
“The Archbishop of York, the Archbishop of Canterbury refused to do the deed.” Edmund said, at least one member of the Clergy still had morals, others had all willingly attended the coronation.
The King nodded. “And what is the mood within London?”
“Most people seem worried, and upset. They fear that York will bring war upon them. The merchants are already pulling their stock out of the city.” Edmund said. The last bit was true, the merchants were taking flight because of the rumours he had put about. But the other things weren’t true.
“How much support do we still have in the City?” The King asked.
Very little. Edmund thought, but out loud he said. “Enough to cause York serious problems.”
“Then get in touch with our friends there and see to it that they do their duty.” The King commanded.
“Yes, Sire.” Edmund replied, that was going to be incredibly difficult, but the King had asked him to do it, and so he would.
The King then changed topic. “What about the rest of the Kingdom? How has everyone responded to York’s manifesto?”
The King had taken that document surprisingly well, given what it claimed about him. Madness, incest, and other such accusations had been levied at him by York and Salisbury and Warwick. And there was even a claim that the Prince of Wales was a bastard, sired by Edmund. That was all frankly ridiculous. Edmund had had an affair with the King’s Mother, once, but he’d learned his lesson after that.
“Northumberland managed to flee for the north before York’s forces got into London.” Viscount Lisle said. “He is raising men as we speak.”
“How many?” The King asked.
“I think he has around five hundred men raised so far, with the capacity to raise more. Combined with the men left from Lord Egremont’s attempted fight with York, that would take numbers close to eight hundred.” Lisle said.
“We’d need to find a way to combine that with the men that Lord Devon and Lord Oxford are raising.” Edmund pointed out. “Warwick controls the Midlands, or he will if he wins in his fight against Buckingham and Shrewsbury. Salisbury will no doubt be sent out to fight Northumberland in the north.”
“So, what do you suggest?” The King asked looking at him then.
“I suggest going right for London.” Edmund said.
“London?” The King replied sounding surprised.
“London.” Edmund confirmed. “York will be expecting us to try and link up with Your Grace’s allies. He will not be expecting a direct attack on London.”
“We have only five hundred men here.” Lisle protested. “We will get slaughtered if we try and go for London now.”
“Not if The King sends word to Devon and Oxford and asks them to bring their men with us on the way to London.” Edmund said.
“How many men would that give us?” The King asked.
“Roughly 2000, Sire.” Edmund said, doing the calculations in his head.
“And how many men does York have?” The King asked.
“On his own? Around six hundred, if Salisbury and Warwick do not march northwards, then he’d have around three thousand.” Edmund replied.
“And you think they will be sent northwards?” The King asked.
“Yes, York knows he needs Salisbury and Warwick strong in their power bases, if he wants to exert control over the Kingdom. He cannot afford to have Northumberland or Buckingham and Shrewsbury roaming around, free to do as they like.” Edmund said.
“But will he send them away if our support in London is as high as you say?” The King asked.
Edmund hesitated for a moment, fearing that he’d been caught in his lie. But then, he took a deep breath and replied. “York knows he can bring London to heel on his own. But he cannot control the north or the Midlands without Warwick and Salisbury.”
The King seemed satisfied with this answer, for he nodded and then said. “I want you to go and raise your men.”
“Sire?” Edmund replied surprised. He had not thought the King would send him away so soon.
“We need more men. You can raise at least five hundred men at a quick go. I want you to do that.” The King commanded.
Edmund bowed his head, recognising the sense in what the King said. “Of course, Sire.”
He was about to rise when the King spoke once more. “Another thing.”
“Sire?” Edmund replied looking at the King wondering what new thing the King would demand of him.
“When we have retaken London, your son’s marriage to Elizabeth of York shall go ahead.” The King said.
“Sire?!” Edmund protested. He did not want his son married to the daughter of a traitor and usurper.
The King held up a hand then. “She will be given all of York’s land.”
Edmund opened his mouth and then shut it. At a stroke his son would become the richest man in the land after the King. That was…. that was something.
“I…. I thank you, Sire.” Edmund said then.
Being crowned by the wrong Archbishop is bad for legitimacy.
Also isn't Canterbury York's brother in law's brother so brother? OTL he was a Yorkist by this time-has his dismissal as chancellor been butterflied?
Also isn't Canterbury York's brother in law's brother so brother? OTL he was a Yorkist by this time-has his dismissal as chancellor been butterflied?
Oh Edmund. Don't lie to your King. He can't fight properly if he doesn't know the extent of the opposition... This isn't going to end well...
The Archbishop of York is indeer the Duke of York's brother in law, as is Canterbury.
York's sister is married to Henry Bourchier, OTL Earl of Essex, who is Canterbury's brother, making Canterbury York's brother by marriage (I think that's the correct term?).
VVD0D95
Banned
Putting it that Bourchier had a crisis of conscience, such blatant usupration as York did, without consulting Parliament etc would likely go against the man's conscience.
VVD0D95
Banned
That's going to be something that is going to cause all sorts of issues going forward.