A Thorn In The Rose: A War Of The Roses TL

[VVD0D95]

A Thorn In The Rose



Chapter 1: Castillon​

“We must move forward.” John Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury said.

Edmund Tudor, Earl of Richmond and brother to the King looked at Shrewsbury and said. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” Shrewsbury replied. “The longer we wait here, the longer the French have to consolidate their gains. We must move forward.”

“Despite the fact that they outnumber us and are likely to already be heavily fortified.” Edmund said. “Christ, Talbot, they will have twice as many guns as us if we go now.”

“So, what do you propose we do then, Richmond?” Shrewsbury demanded. Not for the first time Edmund found himself wondering why the King had given command to Shrewsbury and not to him. He may not be descended from Henry V but he was the King’s brother, and thus should by rights have been entitled to command.

“I say we wait for a little while. Your son is coming to join us with an extra two thousand men, I say we wait until he arrives and then we march forward.” Edmund said. “Furthermore, if we wait for your son, we will actually get the guns we need to neutralise the French guns.” Edmund had studied the campaigns of his cousin Somerset, and had noticed how the French had used guns to neutralise English archers, and he was beginning to think that perhaps they were over reliant on archers, they currently had roughly 200 in the force present here.

Shrewsbury laughed. “We wait, the French are going to fortify, we move out today and we can ensure that this doesn’t happen.”

Edmund looked at Shrewsbury and then looked around the tent, Kendal seemed like he agreed with Shrewsbury, but then Kendal had always been a weak man, Edmund’s brother Jasper looked nonplussed, and the others? Well, they didn’t seem worth considering. “Is that what your experience is telling you to do?” Edmund asked, wondering if taking the attack to Shrewsbury’s years was the right move.

“Yes.” Shrewsbury said.

Edmund sighed. “Fine, then I suppose I should get prepared.”

“Yes, you are commanding the vanguard after all.” Shrewsbury said.

Edmund nodded, stood up, and walked out of the tent, he was halfway to his own when Jasper caught up with him. “You’re not happy about this, are you?” His brother asked.

Edmund looked at his brother and laughed. “Of course, I’m not. This is going to be a bloody massacre.”

“So, why haven’t you said anything? You hardly protested back there!” Jasper said.

“What can I say?” Edmund asked. “The old goat has made up his mind, and to keep pushing for something he doesn’t want will only sow dissension. Things are already fucked as it is, we can’t let them get worse.”

“I don’t know why the King didn’t name you as commander.” Jasper grumbled.

Edmund put a hand on his brother’s shoulder and said. “Neither do I, but we cannot complain about that now, we’re going to have to get on with things.” His brother nodded and then walked passed Edmund to his own tent. Edmund took a deep breath, entered his own tent and barked out a few commands. His servants hurried to help him put his armour on and as they did so, he remembered the conversation that had seen him placed here.

“I’m sending you to Gascony.” The King said.

“Gascony?” Edmund asked. “But why, Sire?”

“Because until a son is born to me, you are effectively my heir.” The King said.

“But, Sire, I have no Royal Blood, how can I be your heir?” Edmund asked.

“You are to marry Margaret Beaufort, the eldest descendant of John of Gaunt’s third marriage, she is your claim to the throne.” The King replied.

“And Somerset and York are happy with this?” Edmund asked.

The King had laughed. “They do not matter; my council is already in agreement with me. You will go to Gascony, earn some note and then return and the marriage shall go ahead.”

Edmund didn’t think that the King had thought that through but he would not argue. He had learned early on that arguing with the King over something he considered a serious matter was pointless. He looked down as the servants finished buckling him into his armour. He nodded his thanks then walked out of the tent, his horse was brought out to him, he mounted it, then leaned down and took his helmet from his squire and put it on his head before taking his weapon from another squire. He nodded to the servants and then urged his horse forward.

As he waited, more men including his brother Jasper came, mounted on their own horses, the infantry slowly arrived as well. Edmund waited a moment longer and then turned his horse around and urged it onward. He would not give a speech, he had always found such things to be foolish, instead he would lead his men by example. He knew that victory here could put him into good standing at home, and given the tensions between York and Somerset that might be a good thing.

As they moved further away from the camp, Edmund could see what looked like the French camp, there was movement as far as he could tell. He raised his weapon into the air to symbolise that they would attack them in a fast ranging movement to catch the bastards off guard. He urged his horse forward, and the beast moved from a trot to a gallop. The others followed him at a similar pace, and as they did so, Edmund felt his heart race as it always did before he engaged in battle.

It was only as they got closer to the French camp that he realised they had been misled. The French hadn’t been retreating, instead they were in a very tight encampment, with ditches and stakes planted in a few places. Edmund barked out an order for his men to stop, and with great speed the whole thing stopped, just short of what looked like the first ditch. There was a pause as Edmund tried to think of what to do. He couldn’t see anyone near the front of the camp, had they fallen into a trap?

As he worried over what to do, something was wheeled out to the front of the camp. Jasper was the first to notice what it was. “Is that a cannon?”

“I…. I do not know.” Edmund replied, he couldn’t quite see from where he was, and to dismount now would be the height of idiocy.

He watched stupefied as the thing made a great whirring noise, as it released something he realised that it was indeed a cannon ball. He yelled in shock and horror, but could do nothing as the thing landed a few feet away from him and knocked out a few of his men. Deciding that they had to take out that damned cannon before anymore came out he barked out an order. “Men dismount, we’re going to hit them on foot.” He quickly jumped down from his horse and then advanced.

Slowly, Edmund made his way across the landscape, the Frenchmen didn’t fire again from their cannon, but they did start preparing to attack. At least he thought that was what they were doing from the words he heard barked out. When he got to the entrance to their encampment, there were men waiting for him. He said a prayer and then swung his weapon. Initially, he and his men did well. They overwhelmed the first line of defence, and the second, but when the third came they were beginning to sweat.

The French had packed them into a tight a space, and they themselves were lightly armoured, and thus better able to move, whilst Edmund and his men, who had been expecting traditional battle were encumbered with heavy armour. Edmund took a few blows, but they didn’t damage him too much. He knocked a few men out and allowed the press of things to carry him forward. He was more tired than anything else, and as the heat grew, he found himself wondering just where in God’s Good Earth, Shrewsbury was.

“Edmund!” A voice called out, Edmund turned to his right and saw Jasper fighting three men at once. Edmund tried to get to his brother’s side but couldn’t, his way was blocked. He swung and took out one man, but the others crowded around him. He swung and one got knocked back, he swung again and another got knocked, but more came to fill their spots. They swung their weapons and overwhelmed him.

“Edmund!” His brother cried, but Edmund couldn’t see him and could not reach him.

He was getting knocked from side to side now. His armour was weighing him down, making it difficult for him to move and for him to breathe. At some point, he heard a loud thud and couldn’t feel the weight of his weapon anymore. He tried to stay balanced, but eventually he was forced down. Edmund tried to get back up, but couldn’t. He found himself thinking of Jasper, he just hoped his brother was safe.

He felt someone rip off his helmet, he heard them laugh, and then he felt something solid push into him. He screamed, and then he grunted as more blows came. This was his end then, not as a glorious hero like Henry V or Edward the Black Prince, but as a man on his back in some shithole in France, bleeding and gasping for air, desperately wanting his mother.

 

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Chapter 2: A Descent Into Madness

August, 1453

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Margaret was undergoing morning sickness again, Henry knew because her Mistress of the Robes had told him so, when he’d gone to see her. Why he’d gone to see her he didn’t know, but upon realising that she was unwell he had thanked the Lord and hurried out of her apartments and toward his own. Margaret was pregnant after all, and though she looked as beautiful as the day they had married, Henry couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Margaret was pregnant, but he didn’t remember fucking her to make her so. Surely, given his lack of experience he would remember if he had done that? He remembered the first time he had slept with Margaret, it had been a messy experience, things had gone into places he didn’t know they were meant to. She had moaned and groaned, and at first he had thought that that might have been a good thing, but when he had mentioned it to Suffolk, the man had said that women weren’t supposed to make those noises, and so he had been horrified.

But, Margaret was pregnant, so that must have meant he had slept with her and done the deed. But he didn’t remember doing so, so did that mean she had raped him? He didn’t think so, it wasn’t possible for a woman to rape a man. That’s what the Cardinal had said when he had asked him once, especially after hearing about that case from Devonshire, about a boy who had been attacked by a woman. Henry blinked then as he heard a voice say his name.

“Sorry?” He said. “Could you repeat that?”

“Of course, Sire.” John Tiptoft, Earl of Worcester and Lord High Treasurer said. “I have examined the government’s tax accounts and I have to say the picture is bleak. We are roughly £9,000 short of being able to pay off our debts.”

“But then surely that is a good thing? Nine thousand is not too great a sum.” Henry said, thinking that he could willingly use the profits from the Duchy of Cornwall to pay off the debt.

“The £9,000 is simply the base amount, Sire. If we let it sit for much longer the amount will grow to the forecasted amount.” Tiptoft said. “And then there are all the salaries that need to be paid.”

“So, can we not simply increase taxes?” Henry asked. “Surely that will cover it.”

“Tax increases can help sort out the salary portion, but the rest of it needs to come from somewhere.” Tiptoft replied. “And I think I have a solution, though it may do more harm than good.”

“I will decide that.” Henry said.

“The Duke of York and the Earl of Salisbury both owe some £6,000 each to the treasury. If we seize their assets and then determine their value, we could be able to take what we need and use that to pay off the debt with interest.” Tiptoft said.

“So, why do we not do that then?” Henry asked.

“Because we do not have a legal basis for doing it, Sire.” Tiptoft said.

“What do you mean?” Henry asked, why would they need a legal basis for seizing the assets of subjects who had not paid their fair amount of tax.

John Kemp, Archbishop of York and Lord Chancellor spoke then. “Because part of the reason they owe that amount of money is due to shortfalls in payments from the government. York is still owed money for his service in France, Sire. If Your Grace were to seize his assets he could claim wrongful seizure due to payments owed and win back twice as much as he owes. Salisbury could do the same.”

Henry stared at Kemp. “So, because of some shortfall in payment and his own incompetence, York could potentially challenge any seizure we do, something we would only do to try and ensure that we do not have this debt hanging over us?”

“Yes, that is correct, Sire.” Kemp said.

Henry banged the table. “Is there no other way?”

“There is one possible solution to the problem, Sire.” Kemp said. “Your Grace could offer to sell Roxburgh and Berwick to the King of Scots, the total value of the two towns could be seen as enough to cover the expenses.”

Immediately, Henry felt something within him recoil. Sell off Roxburgh and Berwick, the two towns that were left from his ancestor’s conquest of Scotland? He didn’t want to be the man who did that. He had already lost so much of France; he didn’t want to sell off Scotland as well. He was about to open his mouth when his cousin, Edmund Beaufort, Duke of Somerset spoke.

“Why not simply charge York with treason and declare his estates forfeit.”

“What treason has been committed?” Tiptoft asked.

“He raised an army against the King, that is treason.” Somerset said.

“And that was resolved by him spending the latter part of last year under house arrest, before he paid a fine and swore an oath of allegiance.” Kemp said.

“So, he cannot be charged then. What of Salisbury? His feud with the Percies is disturbing the King’s peace.” Somerset pointed out.

“Yes, this is true.” Henry said, latching onto his cousin’s suggestion. “And Sir Jack Dee did say that Salisbury was planning on raiding Lord Egremont’s territory.”

“That could work, Sire.” Kemp said. “Though we would need to act quickly, and have definitive proof that Salisbury was going to do this.”

Henry nodded, and looked at Somerset. “You have friends in the north do you not, cousin?”

“I do, Sire.” Somerset said.

“Tell them to keep an eye on what Salisbury does, we want him caught.” Henry ordered.

“Of course, Sire.” Somerset replied.

Just as Henry was about to declare the meeting at an end-he had to go and pray after all-the doors opened, and a servant hurried in. The man bowed before Henry before handing a letter to Somerset. Somerset opened it and read it and then cursed.

“Somerset!” Henry said reprovingly.

“My apologies, Your Grace,” Somerset said bowing his head. “but a letter has just come from France, writ in the hand of Lord Lisle.”

Henry immediately perked up at that. News from France, either this was incredibly good news, or incredibly bad news. From the way Somerset refused to look at him, he got the feeling it was bad news. “Well, what is it?!” Henry demanded.

“Lord Lisle writes that after a long and hard fought battle, the army under his father, the Earl of Shrewsbury’s command was defeated and forced to retreat back to the ships they had brought with them.” Somerset said solemnly.

“They were defeated?” Henry asked, his mind racing. He had failed then, failed to keep something of his father’s legacy alive.

“Yes, Sire. Defeated. Gascony is lost.” Somerset said.

Henry felt something hit him, it felt like a hammer blow, but his arms started shaking. He looked at them and tried to stop them from doing so, but found that he couldn’t do much.

“There was something else, Sire.” Somerset added, softly.

“What?” Henry asked, staring at his shaking arms and wondering if he had been possessed.

“Lord Shrewsbury was amongst the casualties, as were Lords Richmond and Pembroke.” Somerset said.

Henry looked up at Somerset then, stared at him, willing himself to yell at the man, but seeing the haunted look in the man’s eyes, found himself unable to do anything. The shaking in his arms got worse, indeed it was spreading now. His legs were shaking, his body was shaking, everything was shaking.

“Your Grace, are you okay?” Somerset asked, his eyes wide with alarm.

Henry tried to speak, but his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. It wouldn’t move, no noise would come out. He just kept shaking and shaking, and all he could think of was the fact he had sent Edmund and Jasper to their deaths.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 3: Egremont

August, 1453

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Thomas took the letter from one of his servants, opened it and then read aloud. “The King is a weak and pathetic man, who insults the honour of his father, the glorious King Henry of Agincourt. He is a man not fit to wear the Crown and as such he must be dealt with.” He paused, allowing the words he had said to wash over the men gathered before him, he could feel the thrum of anger.

He continued. “The Earl of Northumberland is a witless oaf, who knows not what he has and what he has not. He will suffer the consequences of his actions and all shall burn for them.”

Thomas finished reading the letter, but held it up high. “This letter was sent by the Earl of Salisbury. Do you think it is a righteous letter?”

“NO!” Came the response from his men.

“Do you think it is a fair letter?” He asked.

“NO!” Came the response.

“What shall we do about this letter?” Thomas demanded.

“Repay it with blood!” Someone shouted.

“Hoist Salisbury up by his pants and thrash him!” Another shouted.

Thomas smiled. “We shall do all that and more. We know where Salisbury and his treacherous family are, and we are to ride to deal with them.” A roar went up at that, Thomas felt his smile widen, he handed the letter back to the servant that had given him the letter and mounted his horse. He drew his sword and raised it high into the sky, before placing it back in its sheath on his back and then turned his horse around and urged it forward.

As they set off, Thomas felt his heart race. Finally, after months and months of talking and arguing, he was going to get the chance to deal with the Nevilles. They were all uptight little shits, if he were being honest, the Salisbury branch, the Westmoreland branch were okay. He couldn’t wait to rub the smug look off of Thomas Neville’s face as well, he might deliver the man’s head to his bride.

His father had been cautious and wary about responding to the letter, Thomas’ brother had as well, but Thomas had seen it for what it was, an opportunity to strike back at a foe that had been playing dirty for far too long. They had the chance to strike and they had to take it. If they didn’t, they were fools and would deserve what the Nevilles would bring on them.

“What is your plan of attack, my lord?” A voice asked, pulling him out of his musings.

Thomas turned slightly and saw his steward Sir Roger Widdrington looking at him expectantly. Widdrington came from a family of minor Northumbrian gentry and had served Thomas’ family for many years. He had fought at Shrewsbury and then against the French, indeed, some legends claimed he had fought at Agincourt and helped save the Duke of Gloucester. Needless to say, Thomas respected the man greatly.

“They will have fewer men than us, therefore, I think overwhelming them with sheer numbers should be the initial strategy.” Thomas said.

“They are also likely to be better armed than the infantry that you have brought with you, my lord.” Widdrington said.

“Perhaps, but greater numbers and their lack of preparedness will ensure a result in our favour.” Thomas said confidently.

He turned around then, not wanting to see if Widdrington agreed with him or not. They rode in silence for the remainder of the journey, Thomas’ thoughts being mainly on how to ensure that Salisbury and his son did not get away. He did not think Salisbury’s heir Warwick would be with them, that man was no doubt trying to argue his case at court over the Lordships of Glamorgan and some other backwards Welsh town. But getting Salisbury and his other son, would be a coup, of that Thomas was sure of.

He did not know why Salisbury had suddenly turned against them. Until about four years ago things had gone fine, indeed, they had worked together to ensure their preferred candidates were elected to Parliament from Cumberland and Northumberland, and yet now, something had shifted and the general feeling was one of anger. Was it the growing closeness of Thomas’ father with the Earl of Westmoreland that angered Salisbury or was it something else? His letter made Thomas think that Salisbury wanted York on the throne, but was he truly that foolish? York was not the greatest of men, and the King was still the King whatever his defects.

“I can see men up ahead, my lord!” Someone called out. Thomas raised himself up and peered out and yelled in delight.

“We fight!” He bellowed, drawing his sword, keeping one hand on the horse’s reins. His heart quickened as they got closer, there were perhaps three hundred people in Salisbury’s party, enough to put up a decent fight, but not enough to allow the man to get away.

When they were within range, Thomas bellowed out a warning. “Salisbury, you cur! Prepare to die!” That forced three men to turn around, they were still trying to draw their weapons when Thomas descended on them. His sword knocked one of the men out, the other two were dealt with by Widdrington and others.

The Salisbury men were turning around now, cognizant to the threat they were facing. Some of them were drawing swords, others were drawing cleavers and such weapons as to make them seem laughable. The speed with which Thomas and his men were coming toward them left them somewhat stunned. He tried to avoid killing where possible, but there were a few bastards who just wouldn’t go down. The first one he killed stared at him for a good minute before falling. That was something he wouldn’t forget.

Thomas pushed onward though, Widdrington at his side. He was desperate to find Salisbury and the man’s son. If he could find them, he could drag them back to Alnwick and get this over and done with. He moved from one side to the next, cutting down the enemy when they got to close, but otherwise trying to avoid them. He still couldn’t find Salisbury or his son and his frustration was starting to get the better of him.

After stopping his horse and assessing the scene before him he got the impression that he may well have made a mistake. Bodies were lying sprawled on the ground, mainly men wearing Salisbury’s livery, but there was no sign of Salisbury himself. Thomas sighed. He turned slightly in his saddle and found Widdrington at his side. “Where is he?” He called over the din.

“Gone most likely, my lord. He would have fled at the first sign of danger.” Widdrington said almost contemptuously.

Thomas sighed. “Tell the men to stop.” Widdrington nodded and barked out a series of commands, those nearby passed on the commands to their subordinates and eventually the fighting stopped.

Thomas looked around at the men and said. “Salisbury has fled like a coward. Let us leave his servants here as a reminder of what he is.” With that he turned his horse around and began the journey back to his estate.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 4: Somerset

September, 1453

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Edmund tried to hide his concern about the King, he kept his face expressionless and didn’t look anywhere other than at the table before him. The King had not spoken or moved in weeks, he had to be forced into changing and into bathing, otherwise he just remained where he was, silent and expressionless. It was quite terrifying if Edmund were being honest. He had heard stories of how the King’s French grandfather had gone through similar things before his death, but Edmund had never thought the King would suffer from it. Clearly, he had underestimated the toll being King was having on his cousin.

With everything that was going on in the Kingdom just now, the King’s incapacitation had come at exactly the wrong moment. Edmund now had to handle a dispute involving the fucking Neville family and the Percies, and he had to do so in such a manner that neither man suspected that something was wrong with the King. The King’s chair had been moved to the side, and Edmund was sat slightly to the right of where it would normally be, with Tiptoft and Kemp to his left, nobody was to his right due to the King not being present. He took a moment to get himself together and then he looked at the guards.

“Let them in.” He commanded.

The guards bowed, and moved to the doors, they were opened and two men walked in, one after the other. The first man to walk in was the father of the man Edmund hated with a passion. Richard Neville, Earl of Salisbury. Salisbury was Edmund’s cousin, but he was a rogue, an ambitious rogue who had exploited the King’s good will and tried to bleed him dry of it. His son was even worse, but the son was not here now. The next man who walked in, was tall with black hair, he was Thomas Percy, Lord Egremont, a man Edmund knew reasonably well, and respected.

The doors closed behind them.

They remained standing, and Edmund saw Salisbury looking to where the King’s chair would normally be, to prevent him getting any ideas, Edmund spoke. “Gentlemen, welcome.”

“You are here to answer a charge of the most serious nature, that of disturbing the King’s peace.” Edmund said, he looked then at Lord Chancellor Kemp.

Kemp looked at the two men and said. “In the middle of last month, whilst Lord Salisbury was riding back from the wedding of his son, Lord Thomas Neville, he engaged in a fight with Thomas Percy, Lord Egremont near Heworth Moor, Yorkshire. The fight resulted in roughly thirty people being killed. This fight is in violation of the King’s peace, therefore both men must answer for it.”

Edmund looked from Kemp to Salisbury and then to Egremont. Salisbury looked deeply annoyed whilst Egremont looked bemused. “Well, gentlemen, you’ve heard the statement, now your answers.”

Egremont went first. “My father, the Earl of Northumberland received a letter a few days before the fight, which was most inflammatory and an insult against the King and him.”

“This being the letter?” Edmund asked, picking up a piece of paper and reading the contents out loud.

“The King is a weak and pathetic man, who insults the honour of his father, the glorious King Henry of Agincourt. He is a man not fit to wear the Crown and as such he must be dealt with.” He looked up and saw Salisbury’s eyes widen, he continued. “The Earl of Northumberland is a witless oaf, who knows not what he has and what he has not. He will suffer the consequences of his actions and all shall burn for them.”

“Yes, that was the letter.” Egremont said. “When he received the letter he was furious, the King’s honour had been cast into doubt and he had been slandered. He wanted justice.”

“How did you know it had come from Lord Salisbury?” Edmund asked.

“The letter contained Salisbury’s signature and his seal.” Egremont replied.

“That’s not possible.” Salisbury said then.

Edmund looked at the man. “And why is that?”

“I would never write such an inflammatory letter, nor would I ever cast doubts on the King.” Salisbury said.

He spoke with what seemed like conviction, such that Edmund was tempted to believe him, but there was one thing that prevented him from doing so. He handed the letter to Salisbury and allowed him to read through it, when he was done, Edmund asked. “Is that your signature at the bottom of the paper?”

“Yes.” Salisbury murmured.

Edmund clapped his hands and a servant came forward with the envelope that had contained the letter, Edmund then handed it to Salisbury and asked him. “Is that your seal?”

“Yes.” Salisbury replied once more.

Edmund nodded. “So, if your signature and seal are affixed to this document, how can you claim that you did not write it?”

Salisbury stared at him. “Why would I write something so treasonable?!”

“You tell us.” Edmund replied.

“I would never do such a thing.” Salisbury replied.

“Then why are your signature and seal on the document?” Edmund asked.

“I….” Salisbury trailed off.

“Unless you were presented with something and did not bother to look at it, which raises questions about other things, Lord Salisbury.” Edmund said.

“What of Egremont though?” Salisbury demanded. “If he was concerned about what he had received, why didn’t he bring the matter to court?”

Edmund had to acknowledge that Salisbury made a valid point there. Egremont should’ve brought the letter to court immediately, not tried to start his own private war. He looked at Egremont and said. “Lord Egremont.”

Egremont looked like a child who had been caught trying to take his father’s explicit paintings for private use, his eyes were wide and his mouth was open. No words came out for the first few moments though, until he eventually said. “I was outraged, my lord. I read the letter and I immediately wanted to make Salisbury pay. I admit that that was not the right decision to make and I apologise for it.”

“You killed 20 of my men!” Salisbury barked.

Before Egremont could respond, Edmund held up a hand and said. “Gentlemen, thank you, I will ask that you wait outside whilst the council deliberates.” The two men reluctantly walked outside, and once the doors were shut, Edmund then turned to look at Tiptoft and Kemp and asked.

“Well, what do you think?”

“I think they should both be punished.” Tiptoft said. “Fine them an appropriate amount and dismiss the matter.”

“Do you think Salisbury wrote that letter?” Edmund asked.

“He may have done; he may not have done. Either way his signature and his seal are on the thing.” Tiptoft said. “And Egremont is guilty of breaking the King’s peace first.”

“Because he felt that he needed to reply.” Edmund pointed out.

“Yes, but he wouldn’t have felt like that if he were confident in central authority.” Tiptoft countered.

Edmund bristled even though he knew that Tiptoft spoke the truth. The King had not been good at keeping everything under control, and Edmund himself had been lax in ensuring that control had been maintained. “What do you suggest then?”

“Fine both of them.” Kemp said. “But fine Salisbury more than Egremont, under the law the fact that his signature is on that letter is enough to raise treason as an accusation. He should be happy with just the fine.”

“Fine.” Edmund said, he was reluctant to do this, but suspected it was a necessity. He gestured for the guards to let both men back in, Salisbury walked in first, his shoulders down, Egremont walked in next, looking confident.

“Gentlemen, thank you for your patience. We have reached a decision. Due to the nature of the letter and its contribution to what unfolded, Lord Salisbury we have decided that you will pay a fine of £500, whilst you Lord Egremont for violating the King’s peace first, will pay a fine of £400.”

Neither man protested, Salisbury inclined his head, whilst Egremont looked relieved.

“You may go.” Edmund said, both men nodded and walked out, Edmund watched them go and wondered whether this could last, or if someone would come and disrupt even this slight attempt at peace.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 5: Sandal

October, 1453

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The fine had kept him awake at night. Richard Neville, Earl of Salisbury was man enough to admit that. The fine was a quarter of his total income for this year, and as such would require him cutting back on something or the other. It was not a good thing for him, especially as the Crown still owed him roughly £3000 for his service as Warden of the West March. But Somerset had been clear, he had to pay otherwise he’d be facing another fine, which would no doubt mean he’d have to sell off some property, something he definitely didn’t want to do.

As such, Richard had decided to break with his principle and go and visit his brother in law, the Duke of York. The man was the King’s heir, but was also a hard and cold man, someone who rarely made friends and someone who Richard had never quite liked until recently. He could appreciate that York was direct and blunt, it made a change from the flowery nonsense of those at court. The man’s attempted insurrection hadn’t worked out last year, and York had had the sense to keep his head down after that, but this? This was too good an opportunity for him to miss.

Richard looked at the man, noted the beginnings of grey in his hair and smiled. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Your Highness.” He gave York the stylings of a Prince, something he was entitled to as the King’s heir. “I know that you are a busy man. I hope that the children and Cecily are well.” Richard had used his sister to get this meeting, plied her with sweet words and flatteries, the sorts of thing she had liked before, and thankfully it had worked.

“They are well, Cecily is looking forward to meeting you later. She and the younger children are currently visiting Kirkland Abbey.” York said.

“Of course, I look forward to meeting them.” Richard replied, he didn’t like young children, but if he had to deal with them to get York’s support, then so be it.

“So, what is it you wished to discuss?” York asked.

“I am sure you are aware of the little incident that occurred at Heworth Moor two months ago.” Richard said.

“I am.” York said.

“Given that you are very knowledgeable on the law, I wanted to get your thoughts on the outcome that the King’s council decided upon.” Richard said.

“Very well.” York replied.

Richard cleared his throat and continued. “After producing a letter that Egremont claims inspired the attack, the council led by Somerset ruled that both myself and Egremont were in violation of the King’s peace and thus ordered us to pay a fine. Egremont’s fine was set at £400 whilst mine was set at £500.”

“Okay, and this letter that was produced, what was in it?” York asked.

Richard took a breath; this was where things were going to get complicated. “Words that Egremont claimed I had written, in which I insulted and questioned the King’s manhood and also insulted Egremont’s father, Northumberland.”

“And did you?” York asked.

“Of course not.” Richard said. “For all his faults, the King is still the King.”

“So, what was it that convinced Somerset and the Council that you were guilty as charged?” York asked.

“The letter contained my signature and my seal.” Richard replied.

York raised an eyebrow. “And you are sure you did not write that letter?”

“I am positive, Your Highness.” Richard said. “I would never write such a thing.”

“And would you ever fix your signature and seal to something without reading it first?” York asked.

“Of course not, my father taught me better than that.” Richard bristled.

“Then I think it is quite obvious that you were allowed to take the fall and that someone has forged your seal and knows your signature well enough to do something like this.” York said.

“Agreed.” Richard replied, he had thought something similar as well. “I’ve ordered an examination of everyone within the household.”

“Good.” York said. “But there’s something about this that doesn’t sit right with me.”

“And what is that?” Richard asked.

“You said that Somerset led the council?” York asked.

“Yes.” Richard replied getting an inkling of where York was going with this.

“Was the King present at this meeting at all?” York asked.

“No.” Richard replied. “I had found that most odd, given the importance that Somerset seemed to attach to this meeting.” Indeed, the letter that had been sent out summoning him to attend court had made it seem as if this was the highlight of the King’s court until the Queen gave birth.

York looked as if he were considering something revelatory, his eyes were wide and his expression considerate. Eventually, he spoke and his words were measured. “Then the judgement issued by Somerset and the Council is invalid. Given the seriousness with which it was judged, the King should have been present to deliver the verdict and to hear your reasons. That he was not there suggests something is wrong in the heart of court.”

“What do you suggest?” Richard asked, he already had a few ideas for solutions.

“That when Parliament meets next month we work together to produce a petition that demands an investigation into the way the King’s council has been run since August. This is not the only strange judgement to have been produced since then.” York answered.

“Agreed.” Richard said. His Westmoreland nephew had won a case against some minor tenant after going to the King’s council, Richard had been told by friends at court that Westmoreland should never have won that case, given the lack of evidence to support his claim. “But Somerset and the Queen will have their supporters multiplied through the buying of votes in the recent election.” The government’s supporters in the Commons was large, and most of the Lords would not turn against the King openly, if he attended.

“Then we are going to have to find out what is happening and if they have nothing to hide they should not be afraid to be open and honest about what is happening.” York said. “The fact that you are also Warden of the West March and have been fined without the King being there for the judgement is also questionable. An office holder of the Crown cannot be fined without the King being present for the judgement. That has been the case since the time of King Henry Fitzempress.”

Richard nodded, happy that he and York were on the same page. “So, we shall work together next month?”

“Yes.” York agreed. “I shall instruct my supporters amongst the Commons to work with your supporters. We shall provide a united front and see what is going on.”

Satisfied, Richard smiled and said. “Good, it is nice to know we are on the same page.”

York rose, thus prompting Richard to also rise, and as they both pushed their chairs back, there was a knock on the door. “Enter.” York called out, the doors opened and a young man with dark brown hair entered the room, he bowed before York and then handed him a letter.

York read it and scowled. He looked at Richard and said. “The Queen has given birth to a boy.”

Richard swallowed, their plan for Parliament just got a lot harder.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 6: York

October, 1453

​

The hour was late, the evening banquet to celebrate his brother in law’s arrival and the agreement of their alliance had finished only a few hours ago, and after that Richard had come to visit his wife to spend the evening with her. Now, huddled together in the great bed, he found his mind whirring. Salisbury’s treatment by Somerset and the Royal Council was appalling, the man had given his life to the Crown’s service and now because he had reacted when Egremont had attacked him, he had been fined. Richard did not believe for a moment that his brother in law had written that letter, he was far too smart to have done so, which could only mean someone in his own household wanted Salisbury and Egremont at blows.

The reason for why was obvious. Destabilising England after the loss of Gascony could benefit the French and prevent any coordinated attempt to regain lost territories. It could also benefit the Scots, as King James wanted to regain Roxburgh and Berwick and keeping the two families tasked with defending the borders, at war with one another would be a great benefit to him. But the question was how, how had Salisbury allowed himself to be tricked like this. Richard didn’t know and that concerned him.

He was less concerned about the fact that Salisbury had finally broken his silence and come to meet him. After Richard’s attempted rising had floundered last year, his old friends had abandoned him and left him alone and isolated. Salisbury’s arrival at Sandal clearly showed that that was changing. If he could push that on and achieve something at Parliament next month, more of them would come, and perhaps then he would be able to deal with Somerset once and for all.

“What are you thinking about so loudly?” His wife asked, he looked down at her and saw that her head was resting on his arm, and that her eyes were closed.

“I am just trying to think of how to ensure what happened to your brother works to our advantage.” Richard replied.

“And how do you plan on doing that?” Cecily asked.

“We are going to work together in Parliament next month.” Richard said, the elections had been held earlier this month, and the results had been favourable. “He has twenty MPs, I have thirty, then Berkeley, Kent and others have a combined total of thirty MPs. That brings us to eighty MPs.”

“How many do Northumberland and Somerset have?” Cecily asked.

“Together? Fifty.” Richard said. “But if Somerset is in charge of the Royal Council as Salisbury’s account seems to suggest, then they will have roughly one hundred MPs on their side, and more willing to side with them.”

Cecily opened her eyes then and sat up. She looked at him and asked. “How are you going to get around that then?”

Richard frowned. “That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. I think the best approach would be to immediately introduce a Bill of Enquiry into the Lords when it first sits. That way we can get the issue of Salisbury’s fine discussed and out in the open. As Warden of the West March he shouldn’t have been fined without the King being present. If there is something wrong with the King, then the Royal Council should have informed Salisbury of that due to his role as Warden. If there is nothing wrong with him, then Somerset acted without the right authority, unless the King gave him the power to do so. But Salisbury showed me the writ which contained his fine, the Royal Seal is not affixed, only Somerset and other members of the Council.”

Cecily frowned as well. “So, what do you think that means?”

Richard sighed. “I don’t know. I think there is something terribly wrong going on at court. Either the King is ill and the court is trying to hide it, which is wrong, or Somerset has taken Suffolk’s role and is now trying to remove power from the Crown, which is also wrong.”

“But how are you going to prove either? A Bill of Enquiry won’t be enough to get Somerset to admit to anything, will it?” Cecily asked.

York took a moment to consider that, his wife was right in the loosest sense. A Bill of Enquiry was enough to get a debate on the procedure used to fine Salisbury, but it wouldn’t necessarily force Somerset to disclose what was wrong with the King. But there was a gap there. “The King will need to be present for the State Opening of Parliament, as will the Queen. If neither of them are there it will raise questions. The Queen less so, due to having just given birth, but the King? The King must be there for this Parliament to have any semblance of legitimacy.”

“And if he is not there, then Somerset as the leader of the Royal Council will have to let the Marshal and other prominent peers know.” Cecily said. Richard smiled, his wife continued to amaze him with her knowledge of the finite.

“Yes.” Richard said. “So, we will have to wait and see what Somerset decides to do. I have already had Tyrell draft a series of letters to Norfolk, Exeter and a few others pointing out the oddities in how Salisbury’s fine was handed out. The letters will be sent out tomorrow. So, with any luck they will have time to familiarise themselves with what has happened and how it can be addressed.”

“Norfolk’s support will be crucial to ensuring a fair discussion is had.” Cecily pointed out. “You’ve always said he held great sway at court, even if he disagreed with some of the things the King’s uncles did.”

“Yes.” Richard said.

Cecily yawned then and laid back down on the pillow. “How much longer do you want to stay at Sandal for?”

At that moment, Richard felt slightly guilty, he had all but forced his wife and their youngest children to leave Fotheringhay to come northwards so that they could be close at hand should something happen with Salisbury, after all, he had had a feeling something like this would happen for some time. His wife no doubt wanted to return either to Fotheringhay where their second son Edmund and their daughters were, or to Ludlow where Edward, their eldest son was.

“We shall be heading out in a few days’ time, Cecily.” Richard said.

“Good, I think it would do Edward good to move away from Ludlow for a time and come with us to Fotheringhay.” Cecily said.

Richard raised an eyebrow. “Why do you say so?”

“Because he is not focusing enough on his studies. His tutor says he prefers to spend time in the practice yard with the wooden swords you gave him last Christmas. I think if he comes with us to Fotheringhay, being with Edmund will be a good thing for him. You know they complement one another.”

Richard sighed, his wife was right. Edward, his eldest son was a boy who liked to be rough and to tumble about, he liked fighting and riding. Edmund, their second son preferred to read and to write things. Both boys together though complemented one another, they encouraged one another in the aspects that they were lacking in alone. Given the situation at court that might arise, it couldn’t hurt to have them together.

“Very well.” He said. “I’ll send word to Edward’s tutor; the boy will meet us on the road to Fotheringhay.”

Cecily smiled, but said nothing, Richard kissed his wife’s forehead, then turned to his right and blew out the candle and leaned back against the pillow and closed his eyes.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 7: State Opening

November, 1453

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Margaret was worried. No, she was terrified. In a few moments, they would have to leave the sanctuary of the Royal Apartments and head out to the Painted Chamber to officially open Parliament. Why was she worried? Because she didn’t know whether her husband, the King, would be in a fit state to do his duty. Ever since they had received word of the fall of Gascony and the death of his brothers, the King had been incapacitated. No doctor and no cure had been able to break through his dull silence. He would just sit there, unblinking, and unmoving. The sight had distressed her so much she had had to enter confinement early. The King hadn’t even come when she’d given birth to their son.

Margaret had tried to convince Somerset to either postpone the State Opening or to approach it in a different manner, but for once her friend had refused to agree to her will. He had told her that the King had to attend the State Opening otherwise the Parliament would not be considered legitimate. He had also told her that people needed to see the King, otherwise rumours would get out. She understood both points, but had pointed out that if the King were completely incapacitated and had to be held to walk, then rumours would get out anyway, and they were all sunk for that would mean a Protectorship was needed, which would go to that devil’s child York.

Margaret laid a hand on her dress and flattened it out, it was a blue dress, with red lace topping the collar. It looked beautiful, and was one of the cheaper dresses she owned, given the economic situation it didn’t feel right to wear something more exuberant than this. The doors to the King’s chambers opened, and her husband walked out accompanied by two Sergeant at Arms. The King was dressed in the red of the House of Lancaster, his crown atop his head. He smiled weakly at her.

Margaret returned his smile, they had been married for almost a decade now, and in that time, Margaret had come to an understanding of her husband, at least she thought so. He didn’t like to be touched, he was shy and he was scared. Having been King since he was a child, he didn’t know who was loyal for him and who was loyal because of the Crown he wore. It had taken him time to trust her and they had just reached a breakthrough when Gascony had fallen. For that she hated her cousin and she hated her father and she hated France, they had stopped her husband from trusting her.

She blinked in shock when she felt him take her hand in his. She looked at him then and saw that the weak smile had been replaced by a cheeky grin, the one that he reserved just for her. She said nothing though for the doors to the central hall that led to the Painted Chamber had been opened. A train of servants hurried to fix their cloaks to them, whilst Margaret took her crown and put it atop her head, the moment that was done she took Henry’s hand in hers again. Her husband coughed then he started to move.

They walked passed the doors and out into the corridor, Henry’s hand was gripped firmly in hers, which was reassuring. As they got to about halfway toward the Painted Chamber, with the eyes of the Lords and Gentry upon them, she heard her husband whisper. “Fear not, my dear, I shall address these rascals as though they were those seeking judgement.” She turned to him, eyes wide, she had never heard her husband speak like that, she hadn’t heard him speak in months, when she looked at him though, he was looking straight ahead.

Margaret had to do the same, to prevent herself from tripping over. Just hearing her husband speak was something though. Did this mean that he had overcome whatever ailment had struck him low? She desperately hoped so. They entered the Painted Chamber, with Lords lined up on both sides, she looked up and saw scenes from the Bible and from classical stories painted across the chamber. There was Alexander defeating the Persians, and there was the return of God’s Chosen People to the Holy Land after their years in exile.

The lords had their heads bowed, as Margaret looked to her right, she saw the Duke of York with his head bowed, she bit back a snort. He must hate that. York did not like her husband, she knew, but he would do what was necessary to keep up appearances, and for that she hated him. She wanted him gone, for he was the greatest threat to her husband and to their son that yet existed.

She turned away from him then as they approached the thrones. The King’s throne was a large golden seat, embroidered with jewellery from across the world, the star in all of this was a great big diamond that had been a gift from a King of India, it was placed in the top of the throne. Margaret’s own throne was also made from gold, but was smaller and less majestic than her husband’s as was only fitting, for she was a Queen by marriage not in her own right.

The servants hurried to help lift their cloaks, and when that was done, Margaret let go her husband’s hand and took her seat, as did the King. Once they were both seated, the Lords took their seats, whilst the Gentry remained standing. A sign of the social order.

The King cleared his throat Margaret looked at him, shocked that this was actually happening. Had God answered her prayers?

He didn’t read from a piece of paper, she imagined he wouldn’t have done so anyway, even if he had not suffered from the illness. Her husband did not like reading from a document, he saw it as dishonest.

“My lords and gentlemen, welcome to a new session of Parliament. We meet at a time of great distress for the Kingdom. Gascony has gone, whilst Calais remains. The sacrifices of many young and old men have been laid before us all before. In this session of Parliament, I ask that we consider how to move forward in a concise manner. Those who must face judgement for their actions are to face judgement. Those who must be rewarded are to be rewarded. It is important more now than ever that we come together.”

Margaret got the feeling that her husband was speaking to both her and York when he finished off. “We cannot afford division, the time for petty grievances must be put aside.”

There was a brief pause and then the Duke of Norfolk stood up and shouted. “God Save the King!”

The cry was taken up by countless other peers and the Gentry, Margaret noticed that even York was shouting the chant, which she knew wasn’t genuine. The old bastard wanted her husband’s throne.

The Archbishop of Canterbury came forward then to say a prayer, and then when he was done, her husband stood as did she. They walked out of the Painted Chamber and made their way back to the Royal Apartments.

As they walked, her husband spoke again. “I want to go to Windsor.”

“Your Grace?” Margaret asked, not sure if she’d heard him properly.

“I want to go to Windsor, and get away from this viper’s den.” Henry said.

“Of course, do you want me to speak to the Lord Chamberlain to arrange the visit?” Margaret asked.

“No need, I have already sent instructions.” Henry said.

Margaret was surprised at this; how had she not been told about this? Usually anything that happened in their household, above the stairs, was something she was told about. Especially since the King’s illness. But now, it seemed that that had changed.

Another thing that had changed it seemed, was that instead of taking the normal route to their apartments, they were taking a detour. It took her a moment to realise where they were going, it was when they passed a statue of the King’s father, dressed in his armour, that she realised they were at the nursery.

The guards there bowed as they walked in. Still wearing their cloaks and formal wear from the opening, they entered the Royal Nursery and Margaret watched as her husband moved to where their son was sleeping.

She watched as he looked at the boy and then turned back to her and asked. “This is our son?”

“Yes.” Margaret said.

“What is his name?” Henry asked.

“Edward.” Margaret replied.

“A strong name, a good name.” Henry said.

“Yes.” Margaret replied, smiling as her husband looked back at their son, she tried to ignore the fact that his left hand had started shaking.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 8: March

November, 1453

​

Edward stifled a yawn. These lessons were always so boring. A constant stream of words being said at him, not to him, but at him. At least this time he had Edmund and their friends to ease some of the boredom. At Ludlow, it had just been him. Ludlow was not a nice place, it was dark, damp and intimidating. The people there rarely smiled and his tutor there was a cold hard man who did things that he didn’t like. The man who was tutoring them whilst they were in London was far kinder. Dr Michael Weymss, a kind man, with short brown hair and a small beard, he talked in a kindly manner, but even he couldn’t make this interesting.

Edward took a sip of wine, and scrunched up his nose at the bitter taste, the wine here was not as good as the wine at Fotheringhay. Ah, Fotheringhay, the true home of their family. Not Ludlow, not Sandal Castle, not Wigmore and certainly not this manor house that was three streets away from Westminster. No, Fotheringhay reminded Edward of being a young boy-he was still young but he wasn’t a boy anymore, Father had said that-and being able to run around and get muddy, whilst Mother watched on with a wry smile on her face.

Now, Edward was mainly kept at Ludlow, with strict instructions from father to be good at his studies and learn how to fight. But his studies were boring, he knew everything there was to know already, and he was good at fighting, but that was only done for two hours a day, not the five that Edward III-his ancestor and namesake-had spent during his youth. Edward had read that in a book once, or been told it by his cousin, Lord Warwick.

“Lord Edward, are you with us?” He heard Dr Weymss ask.

Edward blinked, and saw that not only was the Dr looking at him, so too were his brother and their friends. “Sorry, Dr, could you repeat the question?” Edward asked, putting on his biggest smile. That usually worked to win people over.

The Dr didn’t smile, instead he asked. “What do you make of King Edward I’s strategy in Scotland? What it effective or not?”

For a moment, Edward panicked, he didn’t know which strategy Dr Weymss was referring to, if he gave the wrong answer, the Dr would tell father and then he’d get caned, and he didn’t want to get caned. He took a breath, and out the corner of his eye, saw Edmund push a piece of paper toward him. Doing that trick he had learned from cousin Thomas, he kept one eye focused on the Dr, whilst out the corner of his other eye he looked down at the paper. He could just about make out what Edmund had written, using that and what he himself already knew he replied.

“I think his strategy at the beginning was good. Getting the Scottish Lords to invite him into decide the matter of the succession was good, and naming Balliol was good, but I think he went too far.” Edward said.

“And why do you think that?” Dr Weymss asked.

Edward smiled again, he was confident now, he knew how to answer this. “I think that King Edward should have allowed John Balliol to hang himself, metaphorically speaking. The man was weak, he was far too reliant on the Comyns and as such would have at one point driven the other nobles away from him. The Bruces were on English soil for most of Balliol’s short reign, had King Edward waited, he could have used them to his advantage, and then left them be.”

“You do not think that Bruce would have caused trouble?” Dr Weymss asked.

Edward shook his head. “No, what we know now is not what King Edward could’ve known then. Bruce was in England, Balliol was content to see his English lands go, that is what he should have used.”

Admittedly, Edward was taking this bit of advice from something he’d overheard his father say to his cousin Warwick about France, but still if it applied in France, surely it would apply in Scotland also?

“And what would you have done with someone such as William Wallace?” Dr Weymss asked.

“There would have been no William Wallace, if I had had my way.” Edward replied, that provoked a laugh from some of the boys in the room.

Dr Weymss smiled, but pressed on. “And if you were King Edward I, with all the knowledge he had at the time?”

“I would have tried to buy him off.” Edward said.

“Truly?” Dr Weymss asked, his eyes wide.

“Yes.” Edward said. “Everyone likes money, and in Scotland I am sure they would like some more of it.” That drew more laughter.

“And if he refused your money?” Weymss asked.

“Then he is a fool of no use to anyone.” Edward said.

“And?” Weymss prompted.

“I would have him killed.” Edward said.

The Doctor nodded and then said. “And there you see is the main issue at the heart of King Edward’s war in Scotland. He needed to assert his authority but he also needed to keep the peace. Men such as Wallace made that difficult, for they showed an alternative to the Scottish people if not the Scottish nobles.”

“But it was Robert the Bruce and not William Wallace who commanded Scotland during their decade long resurgence.” Edward pointed out, something father had told him when he had asked about it once.

“Indeed, but it was Wallace who laid the groundwork for Bruce. Without Wallace, there is no Bruce.” Weymss said.

Edward frowned at that, he didn’t agree with the statement but he couldn’t quite say why.

“But what about King Edward?” Edward’s cousin Ralph Hastings asked. “He was a great personality and a great King, didn’t he have support in Scotland?”

Weymss nodded. “He did, but he died before he could truly utilise it.”

Edward snorted. “How convenient for Scotland.”

Weymss grinned. “Precisely.”

“Dr?” Edward asked confused.

“Scotland needed King Edward to die to be able to maintain its fight for survival, King Edward was succeeded by a man who was not perhaps up to the task of what his father had started, had he been, then this conversation would be quite different.” The Doctor said. Before Edward could ask any more questions, the Doctor had walked to the door and opened it. “That is all for today, be sure to read through the books I have told you about.”

Edward got up and walked out of the room, followed by Edmund, then Ralph and then the others. As they walked away and toward their side of the manor, Edward spoke. “I don’t understand what he meant by that last bit.”

Henry Ratcliffe spoke then. “I think it has something to do with King Edward II’s character, Ned.”

Edward mused on that and then said. “I just hope we don’t have to go over this period again. It’s so boring.”

“You didn’t hear him say what books we head to read did you?” Edmund asked.

Edward looked at his younger brother, Edmund was slightly chubby, his skin was puffy at least. Edward shook his head. “No, but I assume you did.”

Edmund snorted. “Of course.”

“And?” Edward asked.

Edmund grinned. “I’ll only tell you if you can catch me.” With that his younger brother sprinted off into the distance. Edward grinned, waited a moment and then started running after his brother.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 9: Debating The Great Seward

December, 1453

​

Edmund took his seat in the Queen’s Chamber, or as it was now becoming known, the White Chamber, where the Lords met for Parliament. It had been a rough few days, his son Thomas was unwell, and his wife was not happy at all. It seemed Eleanor had grown tired of him being away from their estates for so long and she wanted more commitment from him. He had tried to explain to her that as the King’s leading minister such a commitment was beyond him right now, at least until he had neutralised York, but his wife had not agreed, and so they were not together, not as a united front anyway. She remained in his estates in the south, with the children, and he remained in London, in an apartment in the Palace that the King had granted him.

At least the King and Queen were at Windsor with the Prince of Wales. That meant there was one less thing to distract Edmund from his duty. The Queen had become even more beautiful since giving birth and Edmund had to remind himself of the vow he had sworn on the King’s wedding day, so as not to compromise himself. Their departure to Windsor had given Edmund the excuse he had needed to delay the debate he knew York so desperately wanted to have about Salisbury and Egremont.

He had placed a debate on a finance bill before the Lords which had passed overwhelmingly, then had another bill put before the Lords regarding road building which had taken three weeks to resolve, given that the roads would cross through several of the Lords’ territories, including York’s. He had watched with some delight as York had grown increasingly frustrated with the slowness of that debate. Eventually, late in the evening a week ago, the bill had passed. Now, they would debate the matter York had waited for.

Edmund turned to his right, nodded to the Lord Chancellor and then faced forwards as the Lord Chancellor spoke. “My lords, there will be silence in the House.” As always silence fell, Kemp was very good at that. “The matter to be discussed today in what is the final session before the Christmas recess is the issue of the Earl of Salisbury and Lord Egremont’s fines. Speaking on the issue first is the submitter, Richard, Duke of York.”

After the birth of the Prince of Wales, and his recognition as heir-at least amongst the court party, York had strangely been absent during that service-York had lost his title as a Highness and was now simply a Lord. From the expression on his face, York did not seem to like that. He rose and nodded to Kemp. “Thank you, Lord Chancellor. The concern I have is simple, Lord Salisbury and Lord Egremont were involved in a scuffle that saw thirty people killed, they were both fined, but Egremont was the one who started the scuffle, and yet he was fined less than Lord Salisbury was, and finally, as Lord Salisbury is Warden of the West March he should only have been fined in the presence of His Grace the King, yet, the King was not there. I wish to know how such a fine can stand.” York sat down.

“Lord Somerset.” Kemp said.

Edmund stood up, he had been preparing for this conversation on his way over here, and he was sure he had it all down. “Thank you, Lord Chancellor.” He cleared his throat. “I understand why Lord York might be confused as to the situation, he has not attended court or council for some time.” He saw York bristle and fought back a smile. “At the time in question, the King had taken ill and had asked me to head the council meeting to discuss the matter. Subsequently, in my role as head of the council, I took a decision I thought was fair.” Edmund sat back down.

York then stood up. “Do you have any proof that the King did as you say he did?”

Edmund was surprised by this, he had thought York could exercise more control over his emotions, but clearly he had been wrong. Others clearly felt the same, Edmund could see Salisbury staring at York in shock. Thankfully, Edmund had brought the letter that the King had written confirming his order, he stood up and pulled it out of his pocket. “Yes, I have the letter here.” He handed it to a servant who handed it to Kemp.

“Well?” York demanded staring at Kemp.

Kemp frowned at York. “The letter contains the King’s seal and signature. Either choose a new line of query or move on, Lord York.”

York bristled, and Edmund smiled. Slowly, York spoke. “Very well, you were acting as the King’s voice that is fine, but can you explain to the House then why you fined Lord Salisbury more than Lord Egremont, when it was Lord Egremont who initiated the attack?”

People started muttering at that, and Edmund could see the Earl of Northumberland shifting uncomfortably to his left. He cleared his throat and calmly responded. “Lord Egremont was responding to what he felt was a treasonable offense by Lord Salisbury, Lord Salisbury’s seal and signature were on a letter that insulted the King, Lord Egremont was acting as any good subject would to defend the King’s honour.”

“If he felt the insult was genuine, why did he not bring it to the King’s council?” York demanded.

York spoke truly, Egremont had acted impulsively there, so Edmund changed the topic slightly. “What do you mean if he thought the insult genuine? Did you not hear me, Lord York? The letter contained Salisbury’s seal and signature. Of course, it was genuine.”

“And yet Lord Salisbury said before the Council that he would never write a letter such as that.” York pointed out.

“Then with the greatest of respect to Lord Salisbury, he must pay greater attention to what is put in front of him.” Edmund said. There was some laughter at that, and Salisbury blushed, though he looked as if he wanted to hit Edmund.

“And you think that letter was genuine, do you truly think so?” York demanded. “If so, why did you not immediately place Lord Salisbury under arrest?”

Edmund had no answer to that, York was right, he should have had Salisbury arrested if he had thought the intention was genuine. He looked at Kemp but the other man said nothing and gave no indication of having a possible solution, so Edmund was left to think on his feet. He cleared his throat again and answered. “Lord Salisbury gave a suitable explanation as to what may have happened, he agreed to pay the fine and I believed that to be the end of the matter.”

York didn’t let go though, instead he asked. “Was there any hint of uncertainty within the Council that this issue was not what it seemed?”

Edmund didn’t look at Kemp, he knew how to answer that. “Not at all, the Council was united in its decision.”

York’s brow furrowed and he looked as if he was going to say something more, but instead he sat back down. Edmund sat back down as well, and heard Kemp say. “Is there anything else that anyone wishes to raise on this matter?” When nobody spoke, Kemp continued. “Then let us turn to the issue of Scotland.”

Edmund looked across the room to York who was in deep conversation with Salisbury, his brow furrowed, he looked at Kemp and then looked down at his hands and smiled. He’d won this battle, for now.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 10: Longward Go

December, 1453

​

Henry much preferred Windsor to Westminster. Windsor was quieter, a better place for reflection and far less hectic. Westminster brimmed with so much activity it was suffocating. Henry knew that it was the official seat of court, and was where Parliament was held, but he wished it wasn’t. He wished he could reside in Windsor completely and allow London to rot, that city had never done anything for him beyond scare him and give him nightmares. He smiled as he saw two children of members of the court playing in the snow outside, children benefitted from being away from London as well, his friend Henry had told him that once, long ago. Henry was dead now though, just like Edmund and Jasper, another cross for him to bear.

The door opened behind him, forcing him to turn around. He smiled as he saw his wife, Margaret, standing there, looking resplendent in red and gold. “Ma Chérie.” He said.

“Your Grace.” Margaret replied smiling, she came over to stand beside him and together they turned back to look outside.

“I prefer it here.” He said then. Wanting to get it out there before he lost his confidence, he had already felt some shakes coming back this morning.

“To London?” Margaret asked.

“Yes.” Henry replied. “Does that make me a bad person?”

“Henri…” Margaret said, he turned to face her and saw that she had raised an eyebrow in question, he took her hands in his then, that made him feel safer, like she was anchoring him to reality.

“I do not like Westminster.” Henry said. “It is a snake’s den filled with corruption and sin. Windsor is pure.”

“Henri,” Margaret said again. “The court follows the King, wherever you are, is where the court is. You could call Parliament to meet here next year.”

Henry shook his head. “That would bring a den of thieves to Windsor, and I do not want that.”

“Then Westminster must remain where Parliament is called, my dear.” Margaret said. “And you know what Somerset said, the King has to attend the first session after Christmas to ensure the Parliament has legitimacy.”

Henry snorted. “Somerset is just saying that because he knows it’s easier to control me in London.” He was convinced that Somerset was angling to be named in the line of succession, after all there were questions over whether Henry’s grandfather’s decision to remove the Beauforts from the line of succession was truly legal. Somerset didn’t like York, and despite her protestations, Henry knew Margaret didn’t like York either.

“I don’t think that’s the case.” Margaret replied. “I think he genuinely feels that it would be better to ensure that disruptors do not get too much sway over Parliament. You know what he said about the Salisbury incident.”

Henry sighed. Salisbury, the man was Henry’s cousin, but he had never quite understood the man. He seemed far too distant from what Henry had been raised to see as what a man should be, same with York. They were too hard and cold, it frightened him. But this issue with Egremont had been out of Salisbury’s control, as Kemp had explained it to him. “He should never have held the meeting to decide this in the first place.”

“But, Henri, you knew he needed to. The matter would have gotten worse the longer he kept it to one side.” Margaret said.

“And you think it hasn’t gotten worse now?” Henry demanded. “I read the report from Parliament, Somerset only just managed to beat York in the rhetoric debate. But according to Sir Jack Dee, York and Salisbury have won over Norfolk and have also gotten compliments from Lord Berkeley and the Earl of Devon. That’s two of the great peers of the realm supporting them. Somerset cannot bring such heft to the table.”

Henry wasn’t sure what he was saying exactly, he was repeating what Dee had told him, but the words didn’t quite make sense.

Margaret looked surprised. “Do you truly think Devon will stay with York for the whole session of this Parliament, my dear?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Henry demanded.

“York’s been meeting with the Bonvilles in secret, the same people who Devon is waging a legal battle against. Once that gets out there, Devon will abandon York faster than you can say the Lord’s Prayer.” Margaret replied.

Henry frowned at his wife’s joke, but he got the point. “So, there is no point in worrying?” He didn’t want there to be trouble in Parliament, York had already caused trouble a few years ago, during the whole incident with Jack Cade-an incident that still gave Henry nightmares-and his attempted insurrection at Dartford had convinced Henry that either his cousin needed to be pacified or he needed to be removed. If York wasn’t going to keep Devon as an ally, then he wouldn’t be able to do another Dartford, and given what had happened before Parliament had gone into recess, he imagined that would be a good thing.

Margaret raised his hands to her lips and kissed them. “I promise you, Henri, there is nothing to worry about.”

Henry nodded, then sighed. “I’ve been thinking about Edmund.” He thought about Edmund and Jasper almost every day, they were dead because of him, because he was not a warrior and had had to send them away to fight a battle he should’ve fought. Had he been there and been half the man his father was, they’d still hold Gascony. “I think it’s time I chose another groom for Margaret Beaufort.”

Beaufort was wealthy, Henry’s cousin, John had gained a lot of wealth through service to both Henry and Henry’s grandfather, whilst Beaufort’s mother had inherited a lot of land through suitable marriages, making her a very attractive bride. Henry had arranged for the girl to marry Edmund when she came of age, to give Edmund more land and also to give him a claim to the throne should something happen to Henry and should York not be in favour, but now Edmund was dead and so the issue needed resolving.

“Who would you choose?” Margaret asked.

Henry looked outside, knowing his wife wouldn’t like who he had to say. “Edward of March.”

“York’s son?” Margaret asked. Henry nodded. “But why? York’s son is already going to inherit York’s wealth, why would you give him Beaufort as well?”

“As a sign of trust. York thinks that he is outside our council, that his voice has not been heard. That makes him susceptible to voices that would corrode trust. I think giving him an heiress like Beaufort would be a sign that that is not the case.” Henry said.

“Or it could encourage him toward views that are not savoury. Give him Beaufort and you give him more land and money, more men. Who knows what he might do with that.” Margaret said.

“You do not trust him?” Henry asked, more in search of confirmation than as a genuine question.

“Not at all. I think what he did at Dartford was treason and he should have been executed not simply placed under house arrest.” Margaret said.

“So, who would you marry Beaufort to?” Henry asked.

“To her cousin, Somerset’s son, the Earl of Dorset. Reward someone who has served you loyally, and give his son the riches that he was denied.” Margaret said.

Henry looked at Margaret then, truly looked at her, the rumours he had heard the servants whispering about when they thought he couldn’t hear played in his head then. Was there anything between her and Somerset, was that why she wanted him rewarded? Was his son even his? Henry took a deep breath, he didn’t want to think about that, he knew Margaret, he loved her, she wouldn’t do something like that, would she?

“I will think about it.” Was all he said, he didn’t want her to know the trials going on in his mind.

“Henry, are you quite well?” Margaret asked.

Henry looked at her in question then looked down and saw that his hands were shaking. “I….” He trailed off unsure of how to answer.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 11: Punishment

January, 1454

​

“This isn’t fair.” Thomas Percy, Lord Egremont complained, he knew he sounded like a child, but the point stood. He was being punished for something that wasn’t his fault.

“It might not be fair, but it is the right action.” His father, Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland said. “You violated the King’s peace and were fined, but the heat from that action is still being felt.”

“Somerset said that it was settled, and Salisbury has paid the fine as have I!” Thomas protested, indeed, he’d had to cut back on some of his household in order to be able to afford the fine, so to be told that he still needed to pay his dues for it was angering.

“Thomas, I have made up my mind.” His father said. “Your actions have caused a disruption within the court and within Parliament, even if the matter is declared settled. It is too dangerous for you to be in London right now.”

That made Thomas pause, it was not like his father to exaggerate such things, and so, if he thought there was a danger to Thomas, then there likely was. That made him take a breath and forced him to ask. “What have you heard?”

It wasn’t his father, but his brother, Henry Lord Ponyings who spoke then. “Salisbury and York are trying to cause more mayhem. It seems Salisbury has been convinced by York that he was wronged and that you are the one who wronged him.”

“I didn’t do anything other than react.” Thomas protested.

“Yes, but in reacting you’ve planted a seed of doubt in Salisbury’s mind.” His brother explained.

“What do you mean?” Thomas asked uncertainly.

“How did you know he was going to be where he was, how did you know how many men he would have? All those things are things that Salisbury will be thinking about now. He let the attack go in Council because he was outmatched and without allies, but in Parliament? If we are not careful, he will seek justice.” His brother said.

“How?” Thomas asked.

“Either through Parliament by finding out some strange dealing you have made, or through the streets. His men are patrolling the streets around York and Salisbury manor, and I have seen a few in the street where the King’s servants keep their homes.” His brother answered.

“So, either he fabricates something or he murders me?” Thomas asked.

“Yes.” Their father answered. “Hence why you must go back north, you are safe there. Here, not so much.”

As much as he hated to admit it, his father and brother were right. If he stayed here, with York and Salisbury sniffing blood, he would not make it till Easter, and if he were being quite honest he didn’t want to stay here anyway. He despised London. “What are you going to tell the King?”

“The King hasn’t returned from Windsor.” Father said.

“What?!” Thomas exclaimed. “But Parliament meets again in a week.”

“Indeed, Somerset is beside himself with concern.” Father replied. “But you are going to be gone before then, and if Somerset or the King asks, then I shall tell them you had urgent business to attend to in the north.”

Thomas nodded. “And when I am there, what do you want me to do?”

“Make good with your wife, and have children.” His father said. “You are not a child anymore, Thomas, you must sire heirs and keep the line going.”

Thomas sighed, he hated his wife. She was cold, frigid and the worst of any sort of person you could find in the north. But he could not set her aside, doing so would alienate some of the more powerful tenants that his father had. So, he merely nodded and said. “Yes, father.”

His father nodded and then turned his attention to another matter. “We will of course need to talk about how we are going to keep our influence strong at court and how we are going to prevent York from expanding beyond what he has now.”

“You think York wants more influence?” Thomas asked, having met York a few times now, he was convinced the man wanted the throne, not influence.

“I think York wants Somerset gone, and that is dangerous to us because of his alliance with Salisbury.” Father said. “Therefore, we’re going to need to ensure the King does not feel pressured into appointing York to any position.”

“But as the second in line to the throne isn’t it his right?” Thomas’ brother Henry asked.

“Under normal circumstances, yes.” Father said.

“But?” Thomas asked guessing his father had another plan brewing.

“But, these are far from normal circumstances. York’s actions are Dartford are still remembered by the court and by the King and Queen, and if we can just put enough pressure to make York do something foolish then we can discredit him and Salisbury in one fell swoop.” Father said.

“But what would we do that would do that?” Thomas asked. York was not a hot headed young man, and neither was Salisbury, the usual provocations would not work on them.

His father smiled then. “We play on Salisbury’s son’s fears about Somerset.”

“You mean the dispute in Wales?” Thomas asked.

“Yes.” Father replied.

“How?” Thomas asked. “We have no influence there.”

“No, but the Duke of Buckingham does, and he has shown a desire to get involved on our side. He knows who to influence to cause trouble for the Earl of Warwick, and he also knows how to ensure that this does not get back to him or us.” Father said.

“So, trouble is caused for Warwick, he acts out, his father and York then have to come and cover for him?” Thomas asked. “I presume then that the King will have no choice but to act then? Especially if Warwick or Salisbury act first in this regard.”

“Exactly.” Father said.

Thomas wasn’t sure he agreed with his father, it seemed that too much hinged on certain people acting in a certain manner. Warwick was hot-headed, and he was sure Salisbury loved his son, but would they both really act in such a manner that it would discredit them and York enough in the eyes of the King? He wasn’t sure. “And do you think this will work?” He eventually asked.

“We can only wait and see.” Father said. That made Thomas think his father had other plans, but he knew he likely wouldn’t get an answer as to what those were, so he merely nodded and said.

“Very well.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 12: Warwick

February, 1454

​

“We cannot simply allow Northumberland and his get, to get away with what they did.” Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick said. “We all know that that letter was forged by someone inside your household father, the time has come to resolve the matter.”

His father, the Earl of Salisbury nodded, but didn’t say anything, Richard knew his father was still trying to figure out who had sent that letter, and how they had managed to get it out without him knowing. Such a thing was no doubt embarrassing, but that couldn’t stop them from dealing with the Percies, that family was a threat to everything they had worked so hard for.

It was the Duke of York, Richard’s uncle who spoke. “Lord Egremont has been sent northwards, clearly the methods you chose to try and gather information scared him.”

Richard snorted. “Then he is a coward.”

“Did you actually intend to use the street to bring justice on Egremont?” York asked him.

Richard didn’t reply immediately, he had thought about it, had even discussed it with the Captain of his Household Guard, but had decided against it. But he hadn’t told his father or York about his thoughts on the matter, so was somewhat surprised that York knew about it. “I considered it.” He said simply. “And I may have instructed one or two of my men to let it slip in the ale houses where I knew Egremont and Northumberland’s men would hear it.”

“That was foolish of you.” Father said then.

“Why?” Richard asked. “Surely it was the right decision, let them think we’re doing something we were never going to do, so that they would do something first and give us cause to act.”

“It was foolish because it gave Northumberland a reason to send his son home. Somerset asked Northumberland where his son was during the last meeting of Parliament, and he told him he had sent the lad back home, Somerset understood what he meant by that. And you can be sure that Somerset has told the King.” Father replied.

“So, what?” Richard asked.

“So, what?” Father exclaimed looking at him in shock. “Do you not understand what this means? What message this sends to the King?”

“It shows him that we are taking action into our own hands unless he acts first. If he is half the man his father was he will take that message on and act. Isn’t that what you wanted, father?” Richard asked.

“Not like this.” Father said.

“Then like what?” Richard demanded.

“Through legal discussion communicated through the proper channels in Parliament. The King would have to have listened to our complaints in Parliament eventually.” Father said.

“Why?” Richard demanded. “What have you found?”

“Northumberland has been writing to Westmoreland, they’ve been discussing their grievances against us, and Northumberland has been encouraging Westmoreland to pursue his claims against me.” Father said.

“How do you know this?” Richard asked.

“I have a friend in Northumberland’s household.” York said then. “A man who worked for your grandfather and then went to Northumberland when the old man died.”

Richard found himself intrigued at that, York clearly had more insight than he had previously given him credit for. “And does this friend of yours have proof of this?”

“Yes.” York replied confidently.

“So, what do we do now?” Richard asked.

“Now, we must put pressure on Somerset and other members of the Court faction, we must ensure that the King knows that we are loyal to him but that we are not willing to let Somerset and his favourites disrupt things.” Father said.

“And how are we going to do that?” Richard asked.

“Well, first you are going to have to agree to secede your claim to Glamorgan.” York said.

Richard looked at York and wondered if the other man had gone mad. “You want me to do what?”

“You will need to secede your claim to Glamorgan to Somerset.” York repeated.

“Why?” Richard asked. “The Lordship is part of my wife’s inheritance.”

“It may be, but doing so will show the King that you are willing to work for the greater good. It will stop the chaos that has been present in Wales for the past year, and it will allow us to show the Court just what Somerset is.” York answered.

“What do you mean?” Richard asked.

“Somerset has made it clear throughout the case with you that he wishes to take a more active role as Lord of Glamorgan, if you secede your claim to him and he takes up that post, then we can see how he actually does as Lord of the area. If he is as bad as a Lord as he is as a Royal Councillor, then you can claim that you are the only one fit for the Lordship. The King will have no choice but to agree, and Somerset will be on the way to being discredited.” York said.

“Seems like an awful lot to do, to just discredit someone who has already been discredited enough.” Richard said.

“We have not forgotten his handling of France or anything else, but the King must be convinced.” Father said. “Convince the King of this and Somerset will never come back into favour.”

“How can you be so sure?” Richard asked.

Here, it was York who answered. “A member of the King’s council has told me that Somerset and the King are seeing eye to eye a lot less, especially as it appears that the King wishes to betroth his cousin Margaret Beaufort to my son, Edward.”

Richard’s eyes widened. “He wants to do that?”

“Yes.” York said.

“You don’t sound too happy about that.” Richard said.

“I am not, I think it is a dangerous move and may send the wrong sign, especially as the King’s moods are changeable. It would be better if the King betrothed Beaufort to Edmund.” York said.

“Will you tell him that when he suggests the betrothal to you?” Richard asked.

“If he does.” York answered. “He may change his mind and betroth the girl to Henry Beaufort.”

“We can’t have that.” Richard said. “Such a move would give the Beauforts even more power than they already have.”

“I know.” York said.

Richard sighed. “So, more waiting.”

His father laughed. “Do not look so despondent, Richard, good things come to those who wait.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 13: Margaret

March, 1454

​

Margaret felt a buzz of excitement ripple through her. Her elder sister Agnes and her husband David had come to visit them at Blestoe Manor today. Agnes was Margaret’s favourite sibling; she was about six years older than Margaret and had gotten married last year. Agnes was considerate, thoughtful and always asked Margaret how she was and listened when Margaret replied, something that neither their mother nor their other siblings did.

Agnes was tall with darkish hair and blue eyes, she was a beauty, Margaret had heard their mother describe her as such, whilst their mother usually described Margaret as plain and sometimes when she’d been in her cups, as a horse. Agnes had never said such things to her and for that Margaret was grateful.

“What’s it like being married?” Margaret asked her sister then.

Agnes looked slightly surprised, her eyes widened a fraction before returning to normal. “It’s nice. David is nice and the estate is nice.”

“You do not miss home?” Margaret asked, whether she wanted her sister to give her an answer in the affirmative or not, she didn’t really know.

Agnes took her hand then and said. “I miss you, Margaret, that’s what I miss. You mentioned that you were worried in your last letter, why?”

Margaret shifted, she wished now that she hadn’t written that last sentence, she didn’t want Agnes to worry, because when Agnes worried she and Mother fought. “I…I didn’t mean to.”

“Margaret.” Agnes said sternly. “Why are you worried?”

Margaret looked down at their hands and whispered. “Mother wants to marry me off to someone.”

“Who?” Agnes asked, which forced Margaret to look at her.

“Edward March, the Duke of York’s son.” Margaret replied.

Agnes raised an eyebrow at her. “And this is not agreeable with you?”

“I…” Margaret stuttered. “I do not know. I was supposed to marry Edmund Tudor, but he died in France, and now Mother wants me to marry someone whose father is hostile to uncle Edmund and to the King.

“What do you mean?” Agnes asked.

“I overheard Mother and Lionel arguing about it. Lionel thinks the Duke of York is against the King and wants the throne.” Margaret said. “I don’t want to marry the son of a traitor!”

Agnes pulled Margaret into her then so that her head was resting on her elder sister’s chest, she felt Agnes stroke her hair then. “Margaret, you shouldn’t pay too much attention to what Lionel says. He’s an oaf and not a particularly smart one either. Mother knows what she’s doing, she wouldn’t want you to marry someone whose father was on the outs with the King.”

“But why does she want me to marry someone now?!” Margaret asked into her sister’s chest. “I don’t want to marry anyone just now.”

“Because that is what is needed to maintain our family’s position in the Kingdom.” Agnes said. “You are a wealthy girl, Margaret, and in order to ensure our family’s stability, you need to make a good marriage.”

“Even though I am not even twelve yet?” Margaret asked. “I cannot marry anyone before then.”

Agnes kissed the top of her head. “I know dear one, but Mother will arrange it so that you only marry March after you have turned twelve. And then there will be no consummation until you are ready in another two or so years.”

Margaret raised her head from her sister’s chest and looked at her, eyes wide with fright. “Consummation?!”

“Yes.” Agnes said. “Such a thing will be necessary to ensure that March’s father cannot then have the marriage annulled.”

Margaret had heard horror stories about consummation, it sounded disgusting. “Does it hurt?” She asked her sister then.

Agnes laughed. “It will at first, but after that, if your March knows what he is doing it will be fine.”

Margaret blushed. “Mother says that it will always hurt.”

Agnes frowned. “Mother is not always right you know.”

Margaret gasped, shocked, Agnes had never said that before. “Really?” Margaret asked.

Agnes laughed. “Really.”

“But then why does she act as if she always is?” Margaret asked.

“Because that is what Mothers do. They act as if they know everything and then act disappointed when you do not do what they want you to do.” Agnes replied.

“That sounds exhausting.” Margaret commented.

“It must be.” Agnes said.

“So, why does she continue to do it?” Margaret asked. “Surely it would be better for her to admit she does not know everything or that not everything she says is right?”

Agnes laughed. “She could, but then there would be no fun for her.”

Margaret raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Mothers do well when they know that they can get you to change what you’re doing by acting disappointed and by pointing out they know everything. If they stop doing that, then what are they left with? The knowledge that they are only like the rest of us, mere mortals.” Agnes said.

Margaret laughed. “You don’t like Mother, do you?” Something had clearly happened between Agnes and Mother, otherwise she doubted Agnes would be saying these things.

Agnes sighed. “It’s not that I don’t like Mother, dear one, it’s more that I find some of what she does to be questionable, things that I once thought she could do no wrong in, I now think she does wrong in. Naturally that does not sit well with her.”

“Why?” Margaret asked.

“Because no Mother likes being told that she has done something wrong.” Agnes said.

“But…she says that we should always take criticism when it is warranted.” Margaret pointed out.

“Sometimes people say things and do not always heed them, Margaret.” Agnes said.

“But why?” Margaret asked confused.

“Because people are complicated and the way they teach us is not the way life is.” Agnes replied.

“That sounds horrible.” Margaret said. She could not imagine the knots people got themselves into trying to act one way whilst telling their children to act another way.

“It is.” Agnes agreed. “The sooner you realise that and chart your own course, the better.” Agnes said.

“Is that what you are doing?” Margaret asked her sister.

“Yes.” Agnes said.

“Then I will do it as well.” Margaret said grinning as Agnes laughed.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 14: Glamorgan

March, 1454

​

“Thank you all for coming.” The King said, looking more confident than Edmund had seen him for some time. Edmund, Duke of Somerset looked around the small room that adjoined the King’s chamber, and noted that the Duke of Buckingham was the only person here who had no stake in what was likely to be discussed. Edmund did, Warwick did, and as consequence so did York. But York was here as a neutral advisor, supposedly.

“The dispute between Edmund and Richard has caused much trouble on the Marches.” The King said. “Richard has decided that he has a solution for this issue.” The King looked expectantly at Warwick and Edmund found himself wondering what game Warwick was playing.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Warwick said. “Having considered the situation and in a desire to bring back some semblance of unity on the Marches, I have spoken with Your Grace’s Attorney General, and have agreed to secede my claim to the Lordship of Glamorgan to Lord Somerset.”

Edmund was surprised. He had thought that this would be about their dispute in the Midlands itself, not about the Marches. Edmund had long given up trying to get Glamorgan for his wife, but if Warwick was offering it, and offering it freely, then perhaps he should consider it. Though he was, of course, suspicious. “In return for what?” He found himself asking.

Warwick feigned insult. “Do you doubt my intentions, Lord Somerset?”

Edmund was in no mood to play about though. “Forgive me for not immediately jumping for joy when considering what you have just proposed. We both know that you would not have come to this decision without wanting or expecting something.”

Warwick shook his head. “You misunderstand me, Lord Somerset, and for that I can understand. I have not been the easiest of people to be around. But trust me, I wish only to end this feud between us, and you had mentioned before that you desired the Lordship of Glamorgan.”

I want the whole damned inheritance. Edmund thought to himself, he didn’t like how Warwick’s wife had gotten the whole thing despite being from the second marriage of her father, it was simply not right. “And you do not want anything in return?” Edmund asked cautiously.

“Nothing.” Warwick replied smiling.

Edmund looked at Warwick, truly looked at him, trying to see if there was any hint of a lie in the man’s face. He could find none. He looked at the King then and asked. “Your Grace is happy with this?”

The King nodded. “I am.”

Edmund took a breath, he still didn’t know whether to trust Warwick or not, but if the King was happy with it, then he had no real grounds to object. “Then I am happy.”

“Excellent.” The King replied, he clapped his hands and two servants appeared, they were carrying two pieces of paper. “Now, if you would affix your signatures to this document.”

Edmund looked at the paper that been placed in between him and Warwick, then at the King. He got the feeling that the King had already planned this, and that he and Warwick were merely here for show. If that was the case, then the King had clearly learned a thing or two. A quill was handed to each of them, and Edmund gestured for Warwick to go first. The man scribbled his signature in the appropriate place before pushing the document toward Edmund. Edmund took the paper and wrote out his signature slowly and properly as his father had taught him to, then when that was done he leant back in his chair.

The King smiled at both of them. “Now, there is this second document for us all to sign, to show that we were all present when this agreement was made.” A servant put the document before Warwick who signed it, then before Edmund who signed it, then Buckingham, then York and then finally the King. Once the King had signed it, he took a device from his right-hand side and pressed it onto the paper. “Good now it is officially recognised that Lord Somerset is Lord of Glamorgan.”

Edmund was still struck by how quickly this had happened, he glanced over at Warwick who had no expression on his face, then at York who looked as though he’d just been hit by something. Edmund was about to comment on that when the King spoke once more. “Now, gentlemen, that is all, you are free to go, apart from you Edmund, I’d like you to stay.” The others got up, bowed then walked out, Edmund remained seated.

The King looked at him and smiled, but didn’t mention what had just transpired instead he said. “I have reached a decision on who I want Margaret to marry.”

Edmund leaned forward then, Margaret was his niece, but she was also very wealthy thanks to what her father, Edmund’s brother had managed to garner through investments and land purchases. “Sire?” Edmund replied hoping to keep his voice neutral.

The King nodded. “I had originally considered marrying her to Edward, Earl of March, York’s son, but then decided against that. York is wealth enough as it is. And that would be no way to reward someone who has been as loyal to me as you have.”

Edmund raised an eyebrow, he got the feeling that the King was going to tell him what he had hoped for but he wasn’t sure. “Sire?”

“I have decided that Margaret will marry your son Henry, and that this marriage shall take place when the girl turns fourteen.” The King said. “Does that suit you?”

“It does, Sire. Thank you, Sire.” Edmund replied, with Henry marrying Margaret, they’d get her lands and become much wealthier, alongside the money from Glamorgan they’d be able to compete with York for influence in Parliament without having to rely on the Crown’s favour. Of course, they’d need to wait two years, but Edmund could do that. He would just need to neutralise York somehow.

The King smiled. “Good, that is all I wanted to hear. You are free to go.” Edmund rose, bowed, then straightened and walked out of the room. The moment he was out he punched the air in celebration. Finally, after all those years of hard work he was getting the rewards he had so long desired. He would need to ensure Warwick, Salisbury and York didn’t undo that.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 15: Fight Or Die

April, 1454

​

The doors opened and York strode in confidently. Lord Westmoreland had always told him to walk into a building or a room with confidence. He was a descendant of Edward III in the male line, a Prince of the Blood, the people he met owed their position to his family. Of course, having confidence when speaking to mere nobles was one thing, having it when walking into a room to speak with the King was another matter entirely.

The King was sat reading through a piece of paper, he put the paper down when he heard Richard’s footsteps, the man smiled at him, Richard inclined his head then noted that the Queen was sat next to the King. She was staring at him intently, and Richard felt something settle in his stomach. With the Queen here, Richard wasn’t sure if their discussion would go well. Richard stopped before the two of them and bowed. “Your Graces.” He said.

“Ah, Richard, please have a seat.” The King said. Richard did as he was bid, noting the red cushion that was on his chair. He sat down and shifted slightly to get comfortable. As he did that, the King spoke. “Margaret is going to remain with us for this discussion.” The King made it sound like a request but Richard knew it was a demand, so he merely nodded.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Your Grace.” Richard said.

“Not at all.” The King replied. “You are a member of the Royal Council after all, it would be foolish of me not to hear what you had to say.”

Richard nodded, the appointment of himself and Salisbury to the King’s council had only happened at the end of last month. It seemed that Somerset’s agreeing to take the Lordship of Glamorgan had allowed the King to room he needed to invite members of the Country party into government. Richard wasn’t going to complain; it had gotten him a seat at the table after all. “Thank you, Your Grace. The issue I wished to discuss with you, is France, or more specifically, what are Your Grace’s plans for France.”

“What about France?” The King asked.

Richard saw that the Queen was looking at him with her eyes narrowed, he ignored her and focused on the King. “Well, mainly if Your Grace intends to renew the war with France. Gascony may have fallen, but we still have some support within the region.” He knew this due to the letters he had received from nobles who were opposed to the new regime that Charles of France had imposed on them. Their letters were filled with pleas asking him to return, he was sure the King got similar letters.

“Not enough to make the war sustainable.” The King replied. “We both know that the moment we get there any nobles who might be wanting us back now, will side with Charles. We are nothing more than a tool for to bait him with, and I will not allow English soldiers to be used as bait.”

Richard could understand the King’s point, but he had one of his own. “So, are we to just accept that years of fighting, 116 years of fighting to be exact, has been for nothing. That Lords Richmond and Pembroke died for nothing?”

The King’s face fell at the mention of his brothers, and Richard hoped it would have the desired effect, but instead the King said. “I will not dishonour my brothers’ memories by sending more men to die there.”

Richard took a breath, he didn’t want to snap at the King, he knew that doing so would leave the King ill-disposed toward him. Instead he calmly replied. “Surely it would be to honour their memories and their sacrifice that Your Grace would keep the fighting going. The Gascon nobles might be using us as bait, or they might genuinely want us to return, Sire. Gascony has been in English hands since the time of King Henry Fitzempress, I do not think that they would forget the allegiance they owe to Your Grace so quickly.”

“They forgot that allegiance when the Black Prince started taxing them after Bretigny, they did when Richard II sent our ancestor the Duke of Lancaster to reside there. And they did when Charles of France started offering to lower their taxes. They are a fickle people, and they are not worth shedding English blood over.” The King replied.

“So, the war has ended then?” Richard asked, he tried to keep the disappointment from his tone, but he knew he had failed.

“The war has ended.” The King said. “You need not sound so glum, Lord York. I would have thought you would be happy about such a decision, given how much it cost you personally.”

Richard shifted slightly, the King was right on that front, he had lost several close friends (servants really) during his years in Normandy fighting the French, and had lost a good friend during Somerset’s campaign in Gascony all those years ago. Plus, he had paid most of his men out of his own income rather than from the Crown and had nearly gone into debt because of it. But still, the point remained. “To ensure the liberty of Your Grace’s claim to the French throne, any sacrifice is worth it.”

“Even that of your own sons’?” The King asked.

“Sire?” Richard asked unsure of what the King was getting at.

“Would you sacrifice your own sons if it meant getting me on the throne of France?” The King asked.

Richard paused, he loved his sons fiercely, and he didn’t want them to die, but his principles dictated he answer truthfully. “If that is what it cost, then I would gladly allow them to sacrifice themselves for Your Grace.”

“Then that is all the more reason to not get involved again.” The King said. “No more innocent young Englishmen will die in France.”

“So, what will Your Grace do?” Richard asked.

“I will rebuild England; I will stabilise our financial situation and then I will consolidate in Ireland.” The King answered.

“Ireland?” Richard asked surprised.

“Yes, Ireland must be brought under our control. I have plans for how to make that happen.” The King said. Richard wanted to ask the King what these plans were, and how they differed to France, but before he could the King continued. “Charles of France has sent a missive requesting peace talks.”

Richard raised an eyebrow at that. “He has everything he could want, why does he want to talk about it. Unless it is to further humiliate you, Your Grace.” He didn’t trust that French Prince who dared call himself a King.

“He wishes to get an agreement about the end of the war. In return for my recognising his conquests, he will leave Calais be and we shall keep it in perpetuity.” The King said.

That seemed oddly benevolent of the French King, which made Richard think he wanted something more, or would want something more. Still, for the time being it would suffice. “And are you going to agree to it, Your Grace?”

The King placed a hand on the table, and Richard noticed that the hand was shaking as the King replied. “I am and I want you to be my representative at these talks.”

Slightly taken aback, Richard didn’t say anything for a moment, but then he said. “I would be honoured, Sire.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 16: A Bit Of Blood

April, 1454

​

“So, I heard Lord Worcester talking to the Lord Chancellor yesterday.” Henry said smiling.

“Oh, what were they talking about?” Margaret asked, wondering if Henry was about to ruin their lunch with discussions of politics.

“They were talking about why Lord Warwick always has a long face.” Henry said.

“Oh?” Margaret replied, wondering where this was going.

“And they said it was because he spent so much time riding his horse that he’d become more horse than man.” Henry replied giggling.

Margaret laughed alongside her husband, she felt happy. Things between her and Henry were improving, he talked to her more, and was far more willing to let her touch him now than he had ever been. He was a devoted father and would often spend time playing with their son before he went off to council to work or attended sittings of Parliament. As she put a hand to her stomach, she knew he’d be delighted when she finally got around to telling him that she was with child. She’d missed the last two months of her bleed, and had spoken with the Doctor who had confirmed her suspicions. She just needed to find the right time to tell him.

“How long have you been waiting to tell me that joke?” She asked.

Henry grinned. “Since last night.”

“Well it is a good one.” Margaret conceded. “Warwick certainly does have a long face.”

“I think he needs to relax more, indeed, his whole family does.” Henry said.

“Why do you say so?” Margaret asked.

“They all seem so highly strung. It’s as if they’re expecting something terrible to happen at any moment.” Henry said.

“Did you know that before you named them to the council?” Margaret asked. She still wasn’t sure what she made of Henry naming the Earl of Salisbury and the Earl of Warwick to the Royal Council. He had said that he needed to show he was willing to go for reconciliation, but she worried it looked more like he was giving into their demands. Edmund had certainly thought so.

“No, Salisbury might be my cousin, but I’ve never really interacted with him on a regular basis until now.” Henry said, and the way he said that made Margaret think he didn’t quite like what he had found.

“And what do you make of him?” She asked to prompt him into speaking his true thoughts.

“Salisbury is capable, very capable, but he changes his mind too easily.” Henry replied. “For instance when we were discussing how to improve the network of roads throughout the Kingdom, he initially wanted two big roads to pass through his lands, to improve trade there, but when he learned that would deprive his son of trade he changed his mind.”

“A good father then?” Margaret proposed.

“He changed his mind three minutes before we were due to issue the statute.” Henry said. “William Turnball was not impressed.”

“I can imagine.” Margaret replied smiling slightly, Turnball was the Recorder of Statutes, whose job it was to write down everything that was discussed in Council and then take from there what was to be a Royal Declaration so that it could be sent to every parish in the Kingdom. Any last-minute changes never went down well with him.

“Then there’s Warwick.” Henry said. “The man is ambitious; I’ve already been approached by him asking to be named Lord Chancellor in place of Kemp.”

Margaret raised an eyebrow. “How much of the law does he know?”

“Enough to make his request credible.” Henry said.

“But….” Margaret prompted looking at Henry and wondering what it was her husband wasn’t telling her.

“But, I can’t have a Neville in that position. Not when I was going to give it to Edmund.” Henry replied.

“You’re going to replace Kemp?” Margaret asked surprised. Kemp was capable and competent, and whilst she would not object to having Somerset in such a prestigious role, replacing Kemp was something she’d not expected.

“Kemp has asked for permission to retire back to his Diocese. He is ill.” Henry said.

“Ah.” Margaret replied. “So, Somerset makes sense then.”

“Agreed.” Henry said.

Margaret was about to say something else when she felt something hot and wet trickle down her leg. She shifted slightly feeling slightly sick. She shifted again and then, put her hand down to feel her leg. She lifted her hand back and looked at it. It was sticky and red. She swallowed. “Margaret what is that on your hand?” Henry asked.

Margaret took a breath then replied. “Blood, Henry.”

She saw her husband’s eyes widen. “Guard!” A tall man appeared then. “Get the Doctor!” Henry ordered, the guard bowed and then disappeared. Her husband looked at her. “Are you well?”

Margaret went to reply, but felt something more pour down her leg. “I…. I…don’t know.” Henry got up then and walked over to her, he moved the chair so that she was facing him, her legs were pressing against him. He knelt and lifted her skirts and gasped.

“Margaret you’re really sticky. What happened?”

Margaret swallowed and then whispered. “I was with child.”

Henry’s eyes widened again. “You were?”

“Yes, I’d missed my time of the month for two months, I was waiting for the right time to tell you.” Margaret replied.

Her husband went to reply but then she watched as he fell over and started shaking. First his hands, then his legs, then his whole body.

“Henry?!” Margaret exclaimed. He didn’t reply. She saw his eyes roll into the back of his head as the shaking got worse. “Henry!” She screamed. The guards rushed in then, but there was nothing they could do. Her pain was forgotten as she watched her husband thrash around like a mad person, the guards managed to restrain him slightly, but he was still moving about.

The doctor appeared at that moment. “Your Grace?” He asked looking at her.

“See to the King!” She commanded. The doctor nodded and then gasped as he saw how bad Henry was.

“Put him on the bed.” He ordered the guards, they looked at her and she nodded, she stood up then and walked with them, her own pain forgotten.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 17: A New Dawn

May, 1454

​

Richard Neville, Earl of Salisbury walked into the Council Chamber accompanied by his son the Earl of Warwick and sat down at the end of the table. Archbishop Kemp was sat at the top, to the right of the throne where the King would normally sit, Somerset was to his left, whilst Buckingham sat opposite Somerset, Worcester sat to Buckingham’s right. Richard took the seat opposite the throne, whilst Warwick sat to Somerset’s left.

“What’s the meaning of this meeting?” Richard asked. “We weren’t supposed to meet for another two days.”

Archbishop Kemp who looked as though he’d run through Southwark, spoke. “There has been a situation with His Grace the King.”

“A situation?” Richard asked. “What sort of situation?”

“Dr Maddison will explain.” Kemp said, a door opened then and a medium sized man with blonde hair entered the room. “Dr Maddison.” Kemp said.

Maddison nodded and spoke. “His Grace the King suffered a shock late last month upon learning that Her Grace the Queen had suffered a miscarriage. Consequently, his body shut down and he is now unresponsive.”

“What do you mean unresponsive?” Richard demanded. He had heard of something similar happening to the King’s grandfather, King Charles the Mad years ago, but he had never heard or seen this happen to the King’s mother.

“He does not answer when someone speaks to him, he does not respond when something is dropped near him. He does not respond at all.” The Doctor replied.

Richard’s eyes widened, this was definitely like what had happened to the King’s grandfather. His son, Warwick spoke then. “So, the King cannot run government?”

Dr Maddison shook his head. “No, my lord, and it would not be advisable to rely on him to do so.”

“How long will he be like this?” Worcester asked.

Maddison looked at Worcester and sighed. “I do not know, my lord. It could be anywhere from a few days to a week to a month, to a year.”

“A year?!” Richard exclaimed.

“Yes, my lord.” Maddison said. “Nothing is quite known about the King’s illness, therefore we can only guess.”

“Thank you, Dr.” Kemp said waving a hand dismissing the man. The Doctor walked out and left them all there staring at one another.

“We must have a regency.” Buckingham said then. “We cannot allow the Kingdom to remain stuttering onward. Parliament will need to be informed.”

“A collective regency?” Worcester asked. “Like what happened whenever King Henry’s father was out of the Kingdom with his brothers?”

“That would be disastrous.” Richard’s son said. “Those types of regencies don’t work well.”

“So, what do you propose?” Somerset asked sounding quite annoyed.

“York must be Lord Protector.” Richard said.

“York?” Somerset asked. “He’s heading to France.”

“Then he must be asked back. The senior member of the Royal Family is usually named Lord Protector if the King experiences incapacitation, as the Prince of Wales is an infant, then the Duke of York as next in line to the throne must be declared Lord Protector.” Richard argued.

Somerset looked as though he wanted to argue that point but before he could, Buckingham spoke. “You are right of course, Lord Salisbury, but we must hold a vote to confirm the matter.”

“A vote?” Somerset asked, his voice dripping with disdain. “What are we? Athens?”

“Lord Buckingham is right, Edmund.” Kemp replied, Richard noted the man was frowning at Somerset. “The Statute of Edward I highlights how this procedure is supposed to go.”

“Fine.” Somerset replied curtly.

Kemp spoke then. “All those in favour of appointing His Highness Richard Duke of York as Lord Protector raise your hands.”

Richard noted how Kemp had used the styling of a Prince for York, as he raised his hand, he wondered what that meant, given York had lost the styling when the Prince of Wales had been born. He looked around the room and saw that his son Warwick had raised his hand, as had Buckingham and Worcester, Kemp remained neutral but Somerset had not raised his hand.

“The motion carries. His Highness the Duke of York is confirmed as Lord Protector.” Kemp said. “I shall write a letter to him today to advise him of the situation and advise him to return.”

Somerset pushed his chair back and stood up. “Is there anything else?”

“No.” Kemp replied.

“Good.” Somerset said curtly, the man walked out of the room then, leaving Richard and the others to stare after him.

Kemp sighed and pushed his chair back and walked out after Somerset, leaving Richard with his son, Buckingham and Worcester. “I had best get to ensuring the Treasury knows what to expect.” Worcester said then, getting up and walking away.

Buckingham spoke then. “You two must be careful.”

“My lord?” Richard asked.

“Somerset wants to be Lord Protector that is why he’s acting the way he is. And now that York is in charge, you two are going to get prominent positions in Council, that will irritate the situation even more.” Buckingham said.

“Somerset couldn’t become Lord Protector.” Warwick said.

“He could if one discounted Henry IV’s dubious decision about the Beauforts place in the succession.” Richard answered.

“Exactly.” Buckingham replied. “So, be careful.”

“We will.” Richard said.

“Good.” Buckingham replied, as he too got up, leaving Richard and his son alone.

His son looked at him then and asked. “What are we going to do?”

Richard smiled. “We’re going to do what we Nevilles are famous for. Adapt and survive.”

“And Somerset?” His son asked.

“We’re going to find a way to remove him before he tries to remove us.” Richard answered. “And we’re going to get you Glamorgan back.”

His son breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.”

Richard smiled and stood up. “Come, we’ve got a lot of planning to do.” He walked out of the room, accompanied by his son, his mind racing. York was now Lord Protector, and that meant he was more powerful than he’d ever been before. Hopefully that would keep the Kingdom from descending into anarchy. He just needed Somerset dealt with. Perhaps it was time to bring up some old rumours.

 

[VVD0D95]

A little taste of something big to come.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 18: Mistress of Albion

June, 1454

​

Cecily blinked and turned over, her husband was not in the bed with her. She sat up and saw him staring out of the window. “What is it?” She asked.

“I’m thinking.” Richard replied, his back was as straight as an arrow, she could see the tension in his shoulders. She got up and padded over to him, wrapping her arms around him she asked.

“What about?”

“About the great weight that has been put on my shoulders.” Richard answered.

Ah. Cecily thought to herself. Her husband had returned from Dover after a messenger had been sent from London, informing him of the King’s ill health and the news that he was now Lord Protector. He had been sworn in, in front of the Royal Council and Parliament today, in a grand ceremony involving the Archbishops of Canterbury and York and members of the Royal Council. Even the Queen had been there. It was quite the weight to put on one’s shoulders, especially someone such as Richard who never truly rested when he had a job to do.

“How do you feel about it?” She asked. Her husband had wanted to be the King’s chief minister for most of his life, but Cecily imagined he had never quite thought it would come about to this.

“I don’t know.” Richard answered, and she could tell from the way his chest rose and fell that he was telling the truth.

“You could see it as a great honour, or as a great curse.” Cecily said. “An honour in that the Council sees you as worthy of carrying the mantle of government and therefore trusts you to ensure the smooth running of it.”

“And a great curse in that it has now painted a large target on my back where anyone with an issue with the government will try and hold me to account for it. Even if I had nothing to do with the measure that they are unhappy with.” Richard said.

“And of course, Somerset will be more dangerous now than ever.” Cecily pointed out. Her cousin had always had lofty ambitions, and her mother had often told her about how the man’s father had been the same. The difference was Somerset’s father had been highly capable, Somerset? Not so much. And that made him even more dangerous.

Richard sighed, the action causing her arms to rise with his chest. “I know.” He said. “But I can’t act against him just yet.”

“So, you do plan on acting against him?” Cecily asked. She had never been quite sure where her husband stood on the matter. Sometimes like when they had been in Rouen, he had gone on long rants against Somerset and the man’s brother. Accusing them of incompetence and frivolity that could be ill afforded during a war. On other occasions, he had been the perfect gentleman toward the man. And given that she knew her husband hated lying about anything, there must have been some truth toward his latter actions.

“I am.” Richard answered, he turned around then and took her hands in his. “I cannot allow him to remain at large. He is a danger to order and balance. The King wanted to restore order to England, and Somerset will not allow that to happen. He cannot. He has far too many people depending on him. He needs access to Royal Patronage to ensure that happens, which means a much more corrupt government and I cannot allow that.”

“How are you going to ensure he is dealt with?” Cecily asked. She knew how her brother the Earl of Salisbury would deal with Somerset in Richard’s shoes, but Richard was not her brother.

“I will find something anything that can be used to show irregularities with his conduct. Kemp is a stickler for following the rules as is Buckingham. Salisbury and Warwick are already on my side, so once I have found that irregularity, I need only convince Kemp and Buckingham and then he is done for.” Richard answered.

“What about Worcester?” Cecily asked. The Lord High Treasurer was a clever man, if somewhat all over the place.

“Worcester will do whatever keeps him in his position. He is a lazy man that one.” Richard said dismissively.

“Very well.” Cecily replied, she led her husband back to the bed and as they both sat atop it she asked. “Who are you going to be sending to France?” Her husband had insisted on following the King’s policy on securing peace with King Charles, even if he personally disagreed with it.

“Buckingham.” Richard answered immediately.

“Buckingham?” Cecily asked.

“Yes. He is an experienced diplomat who knows how Charles operates. He will be able to say the right words that get us a favourable agreement.” Richard said.

“And what do you consider to be a favourable agreement?” Cecily queried.

“French recognition of our right to Calais and a marriage between the Prince of Wales and a French Princess.” Richard said.

“Do you think Charles will agree to those terms?” Cecily asked.

“If he has any sense in that head of his, he will.” Richard replied. “He cannot keep us out in the dark and hope to deal with his son.”

Cecily nodded in agreement. “And what about our own Edward? You had sought a marriage for him before.” Indeed, at one point her husband had wanted one of Charles’ daughters for their son, though the negotiations had floundered when Normandy had been lost.

“I will wait and see how things go with Charles first, I do not want to simply negotiate two marriages when either one could fail.” Richard said.

“Of course.” Cecily agreed. “And you wouldn’t want the Queen to have a reason to see you in a worse light than she already does.”

Richard laughed at that. “This is very true.”

Cecily moved back on the bed and beckoned her husband toward her. “Now, enough of this discussion, let’s resume what we were doing before.”

Richard grinned at her. “It would be my pleasure.” She laughed as he started kissing her neck, all thoughts of Somerset, the Queen and everything else, forgotten for the time being.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 19: Sheen

June, 1454

​

“So, why exactly are you looking to sell this place?” Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick asked.

The man standing opposite him with the large belly and slightly balding complexion was called Thomas Charteris, the man came from an old family and had made a fortune as a merchant, but now wanted to move away from London, why Richard didn’t know. The man smiled. “Because there is no one in my family to inherit this property when I die. My sisters are dead, their children died in France, my brothers died without issue. I have no cousins. I wish for it to go to someone who will make use of it.”

“And you think that will be me?” Richard asked.

“Yes, you are a member of the King’s council, my Lord, and your father and I have known one another for many years.” Charteris answered.

“Very well.” Richard said. “I have had a look at the rooms and at the grounds, they are exactly what I am looking for.” Indeed, there was a lot more room here than there was at Warwick Place, that old manor house that had been in his wife’s family for three centuries. The thing was falling down and needed a lot of repair work. Given his position in the Royal Council it was not a suitable place for him to stay when he was in London.

“Good.” Charteris said. “There are a few things I need to tell you about this place before we agree to a price.”

Curious, Richard nodded and said. “Go on.”

“The Priory that is opposite the manor likes to come and visit on the Holy Days, during such a time I have developed a tradition of feeding them for roughly two days. When that is done, they will say a prayer for me at the Priory. Then there are the Poor Fellows who live two houses down. They usually call on a Friday, you can turn them away if you want, but I find it more convenient to pay them a small fee so that they can keep an eye on the goings on of the street and the one over.” Charteris said.

“You run quite the network then.” Richard said.

“Oh yes, the street over is Northumberland territory, or it used to be. Therefore, it pays to know what they are doing.” Charteris said.

Richard was surprised by that; he had not thought Northumberland could exert that kind of influence here. Nonetheless, he was grateful for the information. “Thank you for letting me know, I shall maintain those traditions.”

Charteris smiled. “Good. Now, let us move onto the price, unless you have other questions?”

Richard shook his head. “No questions.”

“Very well, I am willing to take a flat fee of £230 for the manor.” Charteris said.

Richard kept his surprise to himself, that was much lower than he had been expecting, especially given the manor’s prime location in the City. Still, he would take it. “Done.”

Charteris smiled. “Excellent, I will have my lawyer draw up the contract and have it sent to you. You can take up occupancy next month.”

“Perfect.” Richard replied, smiling. He rose as did Charteris, the two of them shook hands, then Richard left the room and walked out of the manor. It was quiet on the street. There was not a soul present. That didn’t surprise him, it was early in the morning after all. The captain of his household guard appeared then bringing with him Richard’s horse. Richard nodded to the man and then mounted his horse. Once the captain had done the same they rode off.

As they moved through the street and onto the main road, Richard found himself wondering why Northumberland had influence in the street over from where the new manor was. Was it possible that this street dated to the time of Northumberland’s grandfather and his influence with Richard II? It was possible, but Richard would have known if that was the case. He had studied London’s history quite thoroughly as a young man, and this had never come up.

Maybe Charteris was just saying that to show he was a friend of Richard’s father. Though that was another thing, Richard could not remember his father ever mentioning Charteris, at least not directly, though maybe there had been mention of merchants and Richard had not paid attention. He sighed, he really should’ve paid more attention to those sorts of lessons when he had been younger. Now it was too late to ask for them to be given to him again.

As they got onto the road where Warwick Place was he saw a little boy hunched over a fire. The boy looked filthy, and Richard took pity on him, he reached into the bag of coins he kept on his belt and chucked the boy a silver. The boy took it and smiled, which made Richard feel better. He stopped his horse when they got into the Manor’s courtyard. He dismounted and walked into the manor, then walked up the stairs, taking a right at the end of the stairs, before turning left and opening the door.

His wife, Anne, was sat reading a book. Richard looked at her for a moment, she was beautiful, with raven hair and doe eyes. She was the picture of beauty. He cleared his throat and she stopped reading looking up at him she asked. “How did it go?”

“I agreed to buy it.” Richard said.

“That’s excellent news, how much for?” Anne asked.

“£230.” Richard answered.

“Only?” Anne exclaimed.

“Yes.” Richard said. Anne smiled, got up and kissed him. Richard smiled. “What was that for?”

Anne grinned. “Can I not kiss my husband to thank him for doing something for the family?”

Richard laughed, then turned serious. “Oh, you can kiss me.”

Anne started fiddling with his shirt. “I’d like to do more than that though.”

Richard smiled. “As would I.” He bent down and lifted Anne up, causing her to giggle, he then walked out of the room and toward their shared bedchamber. When they got there, he placed her on the bed and said. “Now, let’s see how we can thank one another.”