A Thorn In The Rose: A War Of The Roses TL
- Thread starter VVD0D95
- Start date
I am only for him living cuz I like Margaret Beaufort. If she’s taken out of the picture then Edmund can die, lol.
Aw! Cute! I like this Margaret - she seems far more human than she's usually portrayed!
True. I also absolute love her and is likely who being married later and to York’s second son has made a lot of good to her. Here she has no reason for becoming the person who she was in OTL
*le gasp* How dare. Edmund is a precious peanut and must be protected!
Eh, he’s only got my seal of approval (a begrudging one at that) until Margaret is out of the picture and what not.
Quantum Immortal
Banned
Wow man you are a hardcore Lancastrian! Could call you Clifford the Big RedKing
You mean the cause of England?
Wow man you are a hardcore Lancastrian! Could call you Clifford the Big RedKing
, the whole Red in RedKing was actually in reference to the Lancasters!Quantum Immortal
Banned
That's what I'm saying, and Clifford was one of the most hardcore Lancastrians, so you're double Lancastrian
Oh I see. Clifford seems to have died for the Lancastrian, so definitely hardcore.That's what I'm saying, and Clifford was one of the most hardcore Lancastrians, so you're double Lancastrian
Chapter 135: I Vow To Thee My King
VVD0D95
Banned
Chapter 135: I Vow To Thee My King
June, 1461
June, 1461
His leg was killing him. The lumps were growing by the day. Soon enough they would have to amputate the whole thing, and then what would he be? A crippled one legged King? He wouldn’t survive. His son and his courtiers would see to that.
How had it come to this?
How had he gone from being the man who had reclaimed France for the Valois, to being a crippled man unable to walk or even stand up?
God had played him a cruel hand. A very cruel hand.
He supposed it was because of his relationship with Louis, his eldest son. They’d been very close when Louis had been a boy, but as he’d grown into adulthood, something had changed. His son had stopped being the boy and had become a man.
“Sire?” A voice said distantly.
“What is it?” Charles asked, not bothering to look up.
“Sir Jean is here; he wishes to speak with you.” The voice said.
Jean, the son of the Duke of Alencon, a man who was rotting in a cell. Charles supposed he should listen to the man. “Send him in.” Charles commanded.
“Sire.” The voice replied. Charles heard footsteps, and then a moment later, another voice, deeper spoke.
“Sire.”
“What is it?” Charles asked.
“I have come from Calais, Sire.” The voice said.
“Calais?” Charles asked. Louis was laying siege to Calais, why was this man here then?
“Yes, Sire.” The voice said.
“And? What word from the Dauphin?” Charles asked. Had his son succeeded in taking the city? Had the English been driven from France at last?
“There has been an incident.” The voice replied.
“An incident?” Charles asked. “What sort of incident?” What did that mean? Why were these words so vague? He wanted answers, dammit!
“The English had a special type of gun that allowed them to fire at long range, with greater accuracy than anything we’ve ever seen before.” The voice said.
“And?” Charles asked. What did this have to do with anything?
“They used these guns during the siege. As a last resort, it seems, after refusing the offer that His Royal Highness the Dauphin made them.” The voice said.
“He made them an offer?” Charles asked. What sort of offer would his son have made?
“If they surrendered the garrison, their families could return to England, and those who were citizens of the city could decide who to swear allegiance to.” The voice said.
A decent offer, considering. Charles took a breath, perhaps all was not lost for his son. “And then what happened?”
“The English refused and used their guns.” The voice said.
Something settled in Charles’ stomach. It was not a good feeling; it was not a pleasant feeling. He suspected something had gone wrong. “And what happened?” He demanded.
“Chaos, Sire.” The voice said, changing ever so slightly. “Absolute chaos. Our army was torn to shreds as our senior commanders were slain.”
“How?” Charles demanded, how was it possible for these guns to do such damage?
“The guns worked as they were meant to.” The voice said.
“And my son? What happened to my son?!” Charles demanded.
“His Royal Highness was slain, he died bravely, Sire.” The voice said.
His son was dead. Louis was dead. “Calais is lost then?” Charles asked, his voice breaking.
“Sire.” The voice replied.
“And my son?” Charles asked.
“His body is being brought home, Sire.” The voice replied.
“Good.” Charles said. His son was dead. His pride and joy. Gone. God had taken everything from him.
Interesting! Without L’aragne, France will likely be much less centralized and their monarchy much weaker. All around good news for the English once they sort themselves out