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

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 20: Buckingham

August, 1454

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Paris was grand, bigger and somewhat cleaner than London, it still held all the old allure that Humphrey had come to associate with it when he had been a young man. Though now as an old man, Humphrey was able and willing to see the blind spots he had ignored before. There were children running around naked, there were whores on almost every street. There were things within the city that would not be tolerated in London. It seemed King Charles ran a loose city, but perhaps that could be to their advantage.

After all, the reality was clear, with the loss of Gascony, any hope that they had had for restoring King Henry’s claim to France had gone. Now they could only play as somewhat equals, but also as hopefuls. They needed France to want peace with them. Which was why Humphrey had been sent, he presumed. He knew how to be diplomatic when he wanted to be. And being a cousin to the King gave him a footing that others may not have had.

He stood up when the door opened. He bowed his head at the figure who walked in. “Your Grace.” Humphrey said.

“Lord Buckingham, please sit down.” Charles, King of France said.

Humphrey sat back down and looked at the King of France. Charles looked frail, his skin was stuck to his body, his eyes looked hollow. He did not look like that defiant conqueror who had entered Paris all those years ago. He looked more like a ghost.

“How have you found your stay in Paris so far?” the King asked.

Humphrey smiled. “Good, it has been a good stay.”

The King smiled. “Good, I am happy to hear that.” A pause and then. “Now, let us get down to discussing why you are here. Gascony has gone, we hold it firmly. Calais remains in your possession and as such, is English.”

“Sire?” Humphrey asked, wondering if he had heard that correctly.

The King laughed. “Oh do not look so concerned, Lord Buckingham. I do not want to play a ruse on you, or your King. I recognise the situation. Calais is highly defended and is impregnable. I do not want to shed more French blood trying to take it. You can keep it.”

Humphrey nodded, that was good, but he also knew that there would be something added onto this. “And what would Your Grace like in return?”

The King smiled, but this time he looked like a fox that had broken into the farm. “Trade to resume between our two Kingdoms. Tariff rate set at 6% not the current twenty and for King Henry to promise not to get involved in a war against France for the next twenty years.”

Humphrey took a breath. The resumption of trade was good, the Duke of York had said he wanted that to be achieved, but the reduction of tariffs to such a low amount was something that might not go over well. But then, he could always argue it would benefit both Kingdoms, after all they were so close to one another, ensuring there was more profit to be made would be a good thing. York would be able to see that surely? The clause not to get involved in a war against France reeked of a triumphalist power, which Humphrey had to admit made sense. France had kicked them out of Gascony after all.

He took a breath and then said. “Six percent for the tariffs and resumption of trade is too low, Sire. King Henry is willing to offer the reduction of tariffs to ten percent.”

“Done.” King Charles said, which surprised Humphrey and immediately made him wonder if the King had some other motive he was hiding.

“As to the war clause, King Henry has proposed that both Kingdoms agree not to go to war with one another for twenty years. Be that solely against one another or in alliance with others.” Humphrey said.

The King of France laughed again. “So, my nephew has learned something then.”

Humphrey said nothing, though internally he bristled at the King’s implication. King Henry was a good man, a kind man, and a far better King than Charles could ever hope to be. A moment passed, and then another, and then the King said. “Very well, I shall agree to those terms.”

Relieved, Humphrey smiled. “That is good to know, Sire.”

“I shall have my chief lawyers draw up the agreement and then we shall both sign them. I trust you have been entrusted with that power.” The King said.

“I have, Sire.” Humphrey replied.

“Good.” The King said. A pause and then. “Now, answer me honestly, how is my nephew doing? I have heard a great many things from sources near and wide.”

Humphrey hesitated here, lying to a King was a crime against God, but telling the King of France that his nephew was currently lying comatose in Westminster was a betrayal, one that Humphrey would never recover from. He took a breath then said. “He is well, Sire, and sends his regards. He regrets not being able to come himself, but matters within England have kept him.”

King Charles smiled again and this time there was no malice within the smile. “Very well, when you see him next, give him my regards also.”

“I will, Sire.” Humphrey replied.

King Charles rose then, prompting Humphrey to stand. He nodded to Humphrey then walked out. Humphrey remained standing for a moment longer and then took a deep breath and sat down. He rubbed at his eyes and knew then that he would need to draft a full and concise letter to York explaining what had happened and why. He would also need to be prepared for either York or Somerset’s wrath upon his return.

Humphrey looked up to the ceiling and mouthed a silent prayer to the Almighty, asking that the King return to sanity before too long. If he didn’t, Humphrey feared what would happen to his beautiful England.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 21: Ludlow

September, 1454

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Edward moved forwards, ignoring his brother’s pleas for them to stop. Ludlow was dark at the best of times, but right now with winter approaching? It was getting terrifyingly dark. Edward didn’t care though, he knew this castle like the back of his hand. Every bit of it. That was what happened when you spent most of your time in an old fortress like this whilst your family spent time in the luxury of Fotheringhay Castle.

Edward had thought they would be sent back to Fotheringhay by Father after he had told them it was for their own good, Fotheringhay was where their father had based himself for the past few years but no. He and Edmund were sent back to Ludlow, and Edward was tasked with ensuring his brother knew everything about the place. Why, Edward didn’t know, but father had asked him to do this, and so he would.

He stopped walking when they got to a portrait. He moved the torch over the portrait and smiled. The figure looking back at him was tall, with dark brown hair and a glower on his face. He turned slightly as he heard his brother come up beside him. “Who is that?” Edmund asked, sounding slightly out of breath. Edward felt a tinge of guilt at that, he was taller than his brother and could walker quicker, and Edmund wasn’t the fittest anyway.

“Roger Mortimer, our great-grandfather.” Edward answered.

“He looks young.” Edmund commented. “How old was he when he died?”

“Twenty-four.” Edward replied. “He died fighting the Irish.”

“Why was he fighting the Irish?” Edmund asked.

“Because they had been causing trouble for King Richard, and as Earl of Ulster and the King’s main representative in Ireland it was his duty to tackle those issues.” Edward answered, remembering his lessons.

“Clearly, he didn’t do very well then if he died.” Edmund said.

Edward laughed. “If you believe one account, sure.”

“And if you don’t?” Edmund asked looking right at him.

Edward grinned. “If you don’t believe that account then you’re paying attention.”

Edward turned and walked away from their great-grandfather’s portrait. He maintained a healthy stride, knowing his brother’s curiosity would get the better of him. As he got about half way to the next portrait which was along this wall, his brother called out. “What do you mean?”

Edward stopped, turned around and smiled at his brother. “What I mean is that Roger Mortimer was a capable warrior, and a smart man. He died in a battle he should have won. That can only mean one thing.”

His smile deepened as he and his brother said the same thing. “He was betrayed.”

“But by who?” Edmund asked.

Edward shone the torch on his brother and saw that Edmund wasn’t panting anymore, instead his eyes were shining brightly, as they were wont to do when he was intrigued by something. That was good as far as Edward was concerned, for it meant his brother was finally overcoming his worries about being far away from their family. “Now that is a very good question. Nobody knows for sure, but there are records in Ludlow that suggest one of his Irish allies betrayed him.”

“Oh?” Edmund replied. “Why would they do that?”

Here, Edward had to remember something that their father had told him once when he had been very young and had asked the man about Ireland. In as serious a voice as he could, he replied. “Because Ireland had always been chaotic and that was the way the Irish liked it. Mortimer was coming close to bringing Ireland under control. That was something nobody, not even those most loyal to the Crown could allow.”

“So, they betrayed him and allowed him to be killed by rebels?” Edmund asked.

“It would seem so.” Edward replied.

“That doesn’t seem very fair.” Edmund said.

Edward nodded. “Indeed not.” He turned around and continued walking. Edmund following him. Edward had to admit, he preferred these sorts of occasions where it was just him and Edmund, together, able to talk and not worry about being proper. When the whole family was together, they had to be on their best behaviour or risk being beaten by their father. Mother usually said nothing, but she frowned a lot when he said something inappropriate. It was frustrating.

He stopped when he got to another portrait. This time the man before them looked like a bit of a worm, with long dark blonde hair, and weak green eyes. “Who is this?” Edmund asked.

“This?” Edward replied. “This is our grandfather, Richard, Earl of Cambridge.”

Edmund gasped. “That’s our grandfather?”

“Indeed it is.” Edward answered.

“He looks nothing like father though!” Edmund said.

“Certainly not in how he holds himself.” Edward agreed, the Earl of Cambridge looked weak, he looked like a man who would faint at the first sign of blood. The complete opposite to how their father was. Perhaps that was why their father never spoke about him.

“Wasn’t he executed?” Edmund asked.

“He was, yes. For conspiring to depose King Henry the Brave.” Edward replied.

“So, why is there a portrait of him?” Edmund asked.

“Because father wanted to honour his memory.” Edward said.

“But he never talks about him. He always talks about mother’s father, but never his own. Isn’t that a bit odd?” Edmund asked.

“Yes.” Edward agreed. “But I suppose speaking about his own father must be quite painful for him, considering how the man died.”

“That’s true.” Edmund said. “So, what do you think?”

“What do you mean?” Edward asked, he turned and saw Edmund looking at him expectantly.

“Which one of us will end up looking like him?” Edmund replied.

Edward laughed. “Neither of us, I hope. I don’t want to look like that.”

Edmund laughed as well. “Same.”

Both of them turned at the sound of footsteps. “Come on, we’d best get out of here before someone finds us.” Edward said, taking his brother’s hand and running along, his brother’s words echoing in his head. He had been honest; he didn’t think either he or Edmund would end up looking that weak.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 22: She Wolf

October, 1454

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Henry flitted between seeming like he was returning to conscious and being firmly rooted in oblivion. Margaret had given up knowing which one he was in on any given day, and contented herself with looking after their son. Edward had started walking, or more likely tottering around the Palace, smiling and burbling away. He was a delightful child, and Margaret loved him fiercely. She was worried about York being Lord Protector, but also knew until Henry showed some sign of recovery, there wasn’t really anything she could do. And there wasn’t really anything she wanted to do. Her son was her main priority now.

Of course, that didn’t mean that if Edmund Beaufort, Duke of Somerset asked to meet with her, that she would say no. She was not naïve. She knew keeping Somerset onside was important. Especially if York showed his true colours. Somerset was 49 years old, his hair was starting to grey, but he still looked incredibly handsome. Margaret remembered the first time she had met him in England, she had been fifteen, shy and terrified. Edmund had showed her kindness, and for the first time that she could remember she had felt something for a man. Nothing had come of it of course, she was not a fool, but still.

“What is it you wanted to discuss?” Margaret asked then to stop herself from wandering.

“The Council, Your Grace.” Edmund replied. “You had said you wanted to be kept in the know.”

“Of course, go on.” Margaret said.

“Buckingham returned from France with a decent Treaty.” Edmund said.

“What was included in it?” Margaret asked.

“A return to trade between England and France, with tariffs set at ten percent. Neither side will engage in war with the other for twenty years, and England keeps Calais in perpetuity.” Edmund said.

“That is good.” Margaret said, she knew her uncle, and knew that he wouldn’t have given something like this to them without much consideration. She just wondered if he would want something else, much further down the line.

“It is.” Edmund said, unconvincingly.

“You do not sound too pleased with it.” Margaret pointed out.

Edmund shook his head. “It’s not that. It’s more to do with what this means for York.”

“What do you mean?” Margaret asked.

“Well this treaty was his idea. Oh, I know His Grace wanted peace, but York was the one who actually came up with the proposals. Now that King Charles has agreed to them; York has struck a victory.” Edmund said.

Margaret immediately got the gist of what the man was saying. “That makes it harder to discredit him. He’s got a win now, so Parliament will be far more likely to agree with whatever it is he wants to do next.”

“Exactly.” Edmund said. “Which means that my influence in Council will go down.”

Is that truly such a bad thing? Margaret found herself wondering. Edmund was loyal yes, and she was fond of him as was Henry, but, if she thought objectively about his record, it wasn’t very good. France, then the chaos in England afterwards, then the whole business with Suffolk. Nothing really seemed to go his way. Perhaps him losing influence would be a good thing for them all. Of course, she couldn’t really say that out loud, so instead she said. “You need not worry though Edmund, York may have gotten this victory, but it is your proposal that the Council adopted for the road workings.”

In order to reduce the chaos and banditry that had plagued England for some time now, Edmund had proposed a series of interlinking roads, built on top of or replacing the old roads, that would make it far easier for government officials, sheriffs and Earls and lords to address the concerns of the people and prevent bandits from making away with the spoils of their sinful actions through the bog and marsh of the country.

The proposal had been well received by everyone and they had gotten Parliament to vote the money necessary for the project. Development was already starting. Edmund gave her a tired smile. “I know, Your Grace, but I still can’t help but feel anxious. York does not like me, and I know he is waiting for the right moment to remove me.”

“He can’t do that, can he?” Margaret asked.

“He can. As Lord Protector, he has the authority to remove whoever he wishes from the Council.” Edmund said, the man paused and then added. “He can also decide whether to break betrothals or not.”

Margaret caught onto what Edmund was suggesting and said. “He can’t do that, not without invoking Henry’s ire.” She knew that Henry was currently not in a fit state to do anything, but surely even York would feel uncomfortable about meddling in the direct affairs of the Royal Family? “You and Lady Margaret are members of the Royal Family, York is Lord Protector yes, but only the King as head of the family can decide anything on that matter.”

Edmund shook his head. “We are only unofficial members of the Royal Family, Your Grace. There is a way to change that though.”

“How?” Margaret asked.

“When His Grace recovers, he would need to issue a Statute that declares the statute of Henry IV’s reign overturned, this would then leave the Act of Parliament and the Papal declaration that legitimised my father and his siblings, thus confirming our places in the line of succession behind His Highness the Prince of Wales.” Edmund said.

Margaret shifted slightly. “Such a thing would not be controversial?”

“Coming from His Grace it would not be, Your Grace. There would be those like York and Salisbury who would grumble, but Kemp has assured me that such a statute would be perfectly legal, given the ambiguities that surround Henry IV’s statute.” Edmund said.

Margaret nodded. “I shall be sure to inform the King.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Edmund replied. He rose then, bowing then departing, leaving Margaret alone for a moment.

Just when she thought that the man would not come, the door opened and he appeared before her. Sir Jack Dee bowed and then said. “It is done, Your Grace.”

Margaret looked at the man, he looked as if he’d just been to some sort of fight. His eyes were black, and his skin caked in dirt. “They will arrive at the appointed hour?”

“They will, Your Grace.” Dee replied. “And they know not to wear anything that can identify them.”

“Good.” Margaret said. “Thank you.”

Dee bowed. “Of course, Your Grace.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 23: Egremont’s Grief

November, 1454

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Thomas looked to his right and smiled at his wife. Ever since the birth of their daughter things between him and Anne had markedly improved. Whilst Thomas had initially wanted a son, holding their daughter, Eleanor, in his hands had changed his perspective completely. She was perfect. He didn’t know how else to describe her, and knowing that Anne had given birth to her, made Thomas appreciate her all the more. He had started talking to her, getting to know her in a way he should have done from the beginning. He hoped it wasn’t too late to keep things in a positive way.

Thomas faced forwards as the servants put out the flagons of wine and one of them poured a cup for him. He thanked the boy and then grabbed the cup and stood up. The hall fell silent. His retainers and friends were all watching him. “Sirs and ladies, thank you all for coming. We are here today to celebrate the birth of our daughter Eleanor. She gives us great joy, and we wish to celebrate that with you.”

“To Eleanor!” Thomas’ brother George cried.

“To Eleanor!” Thomas agreed, he raised his cup and then lifted it to his lips and drank heartily from it.

He sat back down, the conversations continued, Thomas turned to Anne and asked her. “How are you feeling?” His wife had been feeling quite tired after the birth, which was understandable the women around her were to be believed.

“Good, I think I should make it through the feast.” Anne replied.

Thomas smiled. “Good, I am glad.”

“And you?” Anne asked.

“Me?” Thomas replied. “I am as fit as an ox.” To show her, he raised his arm and bent it, showing off the muscle through his shirt. Anne laughed.

“Oh, will you stop doing that Thomas, you’re not a child anymore.” His younger brother Ralph said.

Thomas turned to his left and grinned at Ralph. “Why are you so irritable, Ralph?”

“Because his woman refused to come today.” George, their other brother said.

“Woman?” Thomas asked, looking at Ralph. “You’ve got a woman?”

“I don’t.” Ralph replied.

“He does.” George said, waggling his brows. “A knight’s daughter from the village.”

Intrigued, Thomas looked at George and asked. “What’s her name?”

“Katherine, I think? Or is it Winnie? Ralph?” George replied.

“Her name is Katherine.” Ralph said through gritted teeth. “And that’s not why I’m like this.”

Taking pity on his brother, Thomas asked. “So, why are you so irritable?”

“Well, you read the letter our father sent, didn’t you?” Ralph snapped. “You know why.”

Thomas sighed. The letter his brother was referring to had come earlier today, writ in their father’s hand to tell them that due to Lord Protector’s decision, they were no longer to patrol the Eastern March in his name, instead the Earl of Warwick would do the deed. Such a loss of influence was hard to swallow, but there was little they could actually do. Their father was required in London as a member of the King’s Council, and if the Lord Protector was changing things up, then so be it. Plus, it wasn’t like the Scots were actually doing anything on the border either. “Well, I can see why the Lord Protector named Warwick. We’ve seen nary a hide or whisper of the Scots for years now.”

“Still, giving it to Warwick is outright favouritism. I thought York would be different.” Ralph said.

“York is tied to the Nevilles, through marriage and through alliance in the Council. I don’t think he could have given it to anyone else.” Thomas replied.

“So, what are we going to do?” Ralph asked.

“Nothing.” Thomas answered.

“Nothing?” Ralph replied.

“Yes.” Thomas said. “We’ve been given our orders and we’re going to stick to them.”

Ralph frowned at that, but before he could say anything, a servant whispered in Thomas’ ear. “My lord, there’s an emergency in the granary.”

Thomas turned around and looked at the servant, he was an old man who’d served their family for a long time. Alfred, his name was. “What is it?” Thomas asked.

“Fire.” Alfred said simply.

Thomas’ eyes widened. “Fire?” He asked.

“Yes, my lord. My son Donald noticed it as he was walking back into the castle.” Alfred replied.

Thomas nodded, looked at his brothers and then said. “Right, we’ll be right there. Ralph, George with me.” He got up and pushed his chair back, as he made to leave, he looked at Anne and told her. “If you see Richard, tell him to come to the Granary.”

“Yes, my lord.” Anne replied.

Thomas nodded and then walked out of the great hall, his brothers behind him. Alfred was to his side. His mind was racing, what could have started the fire? Had some idiot left a torch too close to packets of food again, or was it deliberate? He had been hearing murmurings of some bandits nearby, and had been meaning to go and see where those fools were. But he had not had the time, what with organising this feast, and also needing to train his men, and handle the accounts of the village. Perhaps he was paying the price for that now.

They left the great hall, turned a corner and ventured out into the courtyard, where as Alfred had said, the granary was on fire. Thomas sniffed the air and could tell that whatever had started the fire, it was not natural. Someone had done this deliberately. “Alfred, tell the guards and those servants who are free to get some water, we’re going to need to put this out.”

“Yes, my lord.” Alfred replied, Thomas turned and watched the man hurry away.

Thomas then looked at George and Ralph. “Come with me.”

Thomas set off then, not toward the granary, but to its left. “Where are we going?” George asked.

“To find who set this fire.” Thomas replied.

“You don’t think it was a natural one?” George asked.

Thomas stopped for a moment, turned saw that Alfred had returned with several soldiers, all of them carrying buckets of water. Alfred caught his eye and he nodded. The man then barked out an order and he and the soldiers moved to the granary. He then looked back at his brothers and said. “No, I do not.” With that he turned back around and hurried onward. He had a suspicion that whoever had set this fire would still be here. They’d no doubt want to admire their handiwork, especially if they were bandits.

As they got close to the iron gates that signalled the back entrance to the castle, Thomas saw three men leaning against stone pillars. “Who are you?” Thomas called.

One of the men, looked at Thomas and replied. “We’ve been waiting for you, Egremont.”

“Who are you?” Thomas asked, he saw the man who had replied move away from the pillars and move toward him, his companions doing the same. The two men on either side of the speaker had swords at their sides. Thomas didn’t have anything, he looked behind him, Ralph shook his head.

Shit.

Thomas thought to himself, they’d come without their weapons.

“We’ve come to deliver a message to you Egremont.” The speaker said, his voice sounded strange like a mix between English and Scots, was he from here?

“And what message is that?” Thomas asked, getting a clearer look at the man and seeing that he had auburn hair and a dark beard.

The man smiled. “That our lord remembers.”

“Your lord?” Thomas asked, but before he could get a response, the speaker’s two companions had moved quick as anything to attack Thomas’ brothers. Thomas could do nothing as George and Ralph tried to fight off their attacks with their hands. George was the first to go down, the speaker’s companion buried his sword in George’s stomach.

Ralph put up a bit more of a fight, managing to punch his assailant, and give him a bloody lip. Thomas watched this happen and then his wits returned to him. “HELP!” He yelled. “Help!” He hoped somebody would hear him, they needed help.

The speaker laughed and advanced on Thomas, he punched Thomas in the stomach forcing him to his knees. The speaker leant in close and whispered. “Now you’re going to watch your brother die.” The speaker punched him again, forcing him to the ground. He then felt a hand grab his hair and yank his head up.

Thomas watched horrified as the speaker’s two companions drew daggers and one after the other started going after Ralph. His brother yelled and resisted, but it was helpless, by the fourth strike of the knife, he was dead. All Thomas could do was watch and kick himself for not bringing his sword with him. His brother’s body hit the ground and the speaker laughed before letting go of Thomas. For good measure the man gave him a kick and then as far as Thomas could tell, they were gone.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 24: A Rumble In Yorktown

November, 1454

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Richard was just finishing writing out a speech that he wanted to give to the City on the morrow when there was a knock on the door. “Enter.” He called, putting the paper to one side. The hour was late, judging by the darkness outside, so whoever it was who wanted to speak with him clearly had something important to say. Cecily had already gone to sleep so it couldn’t be her.

The door opened and in walked a tall man with a slight limp. Sir Leonard Hastings, who served as steward of Richard’s household. The man bowed before him and then said. “A letter arrived for you just now, Your Highness.”

“Give it here then.” Richard commanded. Leonard rose, and handed him the letter. Richard opened it and read through it.

Your Highness,

There has been an attack on Egremont and his family. Bandits or assassins set fire to the granary and killed two of Egremont’s brothers, a third was badly injured and is near death.

I am doing all I can to find out who is behind this attack.

W.

Richard put the letter down and cursed. An attack on Egremont, now? Two of Northumberland’s sons dead? This was not good. He looked at Leonard and said. “Get Salisbury, tell him its urgent.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Leonard said, bowing once before departing once more.

Richard turned back to the letter and cursed again. Northumberland would no doubt have received a letter from Egremont explaining what had happened, and he just knew that the man would put the blame on Salisbury and Warwick. He wouldn’t be far wrong to, given that Egremont had attacked Salisbury months ago. No doubt, Northumberland and his sons would think Salisbury was trying to get revenge. Richard wasn’t sure what he thought on the matter. Salisbury wasn’t a complete fool, he wouldn’t have done something quite so blatant, his son might have though. Warwick was impulsive.

The door opened, and Salisbury walked in. The man inclined his head and remained standing. “You wanted to see me, Dickon?” The use of his childhood name suggested to Richard that Salisbury thought this was a friendly discussion.

“Read this.” Richard commanded, handing the letter over to Salisbury.

He watched as Salisbury read the letter and saw his jaw drop. Salisbury handed the letter back to him and then asked. “You can’t think I had anything to do with this, can you Dickon?”

Richard said nothing for a moment, merely looked at Salisbury, and then he asked. “Did you ever consider getting revenge on Egremont?”

“No.” Salisbury answered. Richard raised an eyebrow and Salisbury sighed. “Well, yes, briefly, after the initial attack, when my emotions were high. But after I calmed down? No. I knew such a thing was foolish and the matter was cleared up.”

“But you can see why Northumberland and Egremont will think it was you?” Richard asked.

“Yes, of course I can, I’m not an idiot, Dickon.” Salisbury replied. “But I can assure you and them that I had nothing to do with it.”

“And Warwick?” Richard asked.

Salisbury frowned. “Dickon, he had nothing to do with this either.”

“You are absolutely sure of that?” Richard asked.

“Yes. I would know if he had.” Salisbury replied.

Richard wasn’t convinced of that, he doubted Salisbury knew everything that Warwick got up to, but he was too tired to raise that objection. Instead, he simply asked. “And both of you can confirm your purchases and payments for the last few months, and would be willing to share that with the council?”

“Yes.” Salisbury replied. “Dickon, truly, we had nothing to do with this.”

“Then who did?” Richard asked.

“Someone who clearly wants there to be tension and maybe even war between my family and Northumberland.” Salisbury replied. “Or someone who wants to discredit you.”

“Somerset?” Richard asked.

“It would make sense, wouldn’t it?” Salisbury replied. “The man is terrified of your influence in the Council and wants you removed. What better way to do that then to put you in a difficult position?”

“True enough, but does he have the funds for it?” Richard asked. “To carry out this sort of attack requires a lot of planning and money. Neither of which Somerset is known for.”

“And I suppose the area where the attack happened it outside his area of influence.” Salisbury conceded.

“But he could have had help.” Richard countered.

“Westmoreland and his brothers?” Salisbury asked.

“Yes.” Richard said. “We both know those men have wanted to cause some chaos for you for some time. This would be the perfect time to do it.”

Salisbury sighed. “You’re right. So, what are you going to do?”

“You and Warwick will answer questions before the Council in the next week or so, your financial records will be analysed, and your servants questioned. Then a judgement will be found and the matter will be declared closed.” Richard said.

“Very well.” Salisbury said. “I will ask my son to move back to Warwick Manor for the time being.”

“No, don’t do that. Doing that would suggest that he has something to hide.” Richard said. “Plus it will ensure that Northumberland holds off on retaliation.”

“Very well.” Salisbury replied. The man then took a deep breath. “I am sorry that you are getting involved in this feud, Dickon.”

Richard shrugged. “Nothing to it. This must be ended, and had things been more efficient beforehand there would be no feud.” He would need to speak with the King when the man recovered, some things needed to permanently change.

“Anything else?” Salisbury asked.

“Do not go anywhere for the next few weeks.” Richard said.

“Of course.” Salisbury replied, he bowed and then turned and walked out.

Richard sighed. The weeks ahead had just gotten more difficult, and he had so been looking forward to retiring to Ludlow for Christmas. With luck, all of this would be resolved before then, and peace could return to the Kingdom. For some reason, he doubted that though.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 25: Controlled Opposition

December, 1454

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Richard Neville, Earl of Salisbury took a breath to calm his nerves. He was at a small table with his son, whilst his fellow councillors were sat opposite him on a longer table. Well, all of his fellow councillors bar the Earl of Northumberland who had begged off, citing that the issue was too close to him. Richard had taken that as a good sign, for it meant Somerset could now not realistically be the only hostile councillor to him.

Lord Chancellor Kemp, the presiding officer spoke. “Richard Neville, Earl of Salisbury and Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, you are here today to answer questions pertaining to the suspicion of your involvement in the murders of Ralph, George and Richard Percy in November of this year. We are going to be examining your financial records as well as your movements over the past few months. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Richard and his son answered together.

“Good.” Kemp said. “Let us begin.”

The Earl of Worcester as Lord High Treasurer clapped his hands and Richard watched as a servant brought out two large books, the man placed the books in front of Worcester and then moved to the corner of the room. Worcester opened the bigger of the books, which belonged to Richard and started flicking through the pages. When he stopped, he looked at Richard and asked. “On the 12th of August, you spent £250 on accessories, what were those accessories?”

Richard had to cast his mind back, in August he and Alice had been preparing to host a few people at Middleham and Alice had pointed out that they lacked a few things. The list had come to ten items, each one costing £25. The dinner had been a success and he’d not thought anything of the purchase since then. But now, hearing the thing listed as accessories made him curse. He cleared his throat and replied. “Ten items that were needed for a dinner my wife and I were hosting in Middleham.”

“And the cost of these items came to £250?” Worcester asked.

“Yes.” Richard replied.

“Why are they listed as accessories?” Worcester asked.

“Because that is what they were.” Richard responded. “Accessories to ensure that the dinner went off well.”

“Some very expensive accessories.” Worcester commented, but he asked no more questions on that matter, indeed, he didn’t even bother looking through the rest of Richard’s accounting book. He pushed it to one side and picked up the slightly smaller of the two books, this one was Richard’s son’s book. Worcester flicked through it, then stopped.

“In June of this year, did you buy a manor named Sheen for £230?” Worcester asked.

“I did yes.” Richard’s son answered.

“And were you aware that the manor was in a street opposite a property owned by the Earl of Northumberland?” Worcester asked.

“Not before I made the purchase no.” Richard’s son replied. Richard had wondered at that. His son was usually very good at doing his due diligence, but on this occasion, had suffered.

“And knowing that Northumberland owned property near you didn’t not make you anxious?” Worcester asked.

“No, I had no reason to feel anxious.” Warwick replied.

“Very well.” Worcester said, he fell quiet.

Kemp spoke then. “Where were you both in late October?”

“I was here, my lord.” Richard answered. “I was helping His Highness the Duke of York plan for a meeting with the City.”

“I was in Warwick Castle, with my wife.” Warwick answered.

“And neither of you have at any time had any dealings with men from the borders?” Kemp asked.

“No. Not since we were both appointed to the Royal Council.” Richard replied answering for both his son and himself.

“Who carries out your duties?” Kemp asked.

“Lieutenants, their names were provided to the Council beforehand.” Richard said.

“Indeed, they were.” Kemp said. “Lord Buckingham, could you tell us what they told you?”

“Certainly.” Buckingham replied. “Both sets of lieutenants answered that their duties were simple. They patrolled the border, they kept the peasantry in line and they were paid a decent salary. They had not seen any Scots crossing over for some months now and as such were content to continue in their role.”

“Lazy bastards.” Somerset muttered.

“And there is no mention of them ever meeting with people from Dunbar?” Kemp asked.

“Dunbar?” Richard asked then, what did Dunbar have to do with this?

“Oh yes, were you not informed?” Kemp replied. “We were able to capture one of the men responsible for the attack of Lord Egremont and his brothers. He came from Dunbar.”

“Then no, none of my men nor I or my son have had dealings with anyone from Dunbar.” Richard answered.

“His men agree with him.” Buckingham said.

“And have either of you ever harboured feelings of ill will toward Northumberland or his son?” Somerset asked then.

“No.” Richard replied.

“Even when his son attacked you and murdered your men?” Somerset asked, eyebrows raised.

“No.” Richard said.

“Warwick?” Somerset asked.

Richard took a breath waiting for what his son would say and praying that his son would give the answer they had practised. “No.” Warwick answered, Richard exhaled.

“Would anyone in your family ever seek justice on your behalf?” Somerset asked.

“No, my family know the law and they know what my will is.” Richard answered.

Somerset went to ask another question, but Kemp interrupted him. “Very well, thank you. We’ve heard all we needed to from yourselves.”

Salisbury looked at York, and York shook his head, clearly they were not free to go just yet. He took a breath and sat there waiting. Kemp, Somerset, Buckingham and Worcester were all writing things down on the paper before them. He placed a hand on his son’s arm to stop him from fidgeting and together they waited.

Richard watched as the men then handed their papers to York to read through, line by line, no doubt looking for anything that he might need to object to. When he found nothing, he put the papers down and looked at Richard and Warwick and said. “The council has cleared you of any involvement in this plot. You are free to go.”

Richard exhaled, stood up, nodded to the council then walked with his son and left the chamber. The moment they were outside, he slumped against the wall. He would need to find out what his arsehole of a nephew had done now. For it was him who had done this, Richard was convinced of it.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 26: Warwick’s Departure

December, 1454

​

The room was well lit which was a good thing considering the darkness outside. The Duke of York looked tired, Richard’s father the Earl of Salisbury also looked tired. This was most definitely not an old man’s game anymore, and yet, as far as Richard could tell, only old men were running the show. Perhaps that was why England was where she was now. Cast out of France, with nary a friend in the world, using old tools that had been proven redundant again and again. If he had his way, Richard would change the whole system. Kick out all the old ministers and bring in some youth.

But, he was not the Lord Protector, and he was not his father. He was just a young man who had risen quickly because of his talent and his connections. And now, it seemed that all of that was about to get him sent away. Richard looked at York and asked. “What happens now? The Council has declared my father and I innocent of any involvement in the assault on Egremont and his family. So, what happens now?”

“Now, you’re going to have to move to Warwick Castle.” York said.

“Warwick Castle?” Richard replied shocked, that had not been the answer he had expected. “Why?”

“Because you are too much of a dangerous issue to be kept in London now.” York answered.

“I am?” Warwick asked. “How?”

“You own a manor that is opposite a street owned by Northumberland, your men were recently in a dispute with Northumberland’s men, and you yourself have a quarrel going on with the Duke of Somerset.” York said. “Even if the whole issue with Egremont had not happened, I would be suggesting you leave for Warwick now.”

“So, you want me to leave London, because of something that is beyond my control?” Richard asked.

“Attacking Northumberland’s men is not beyond your control; you are the one that controls your men.” York said.

“That was something that Northumberland’s men started.” Richard said. “My men were responding to that.”

“And yet you could have ordered them to stop.” York said.

Richard opened his mouth to retort, when his father spoke. “Richard, enough, you are going to retire to Warwick Castle until all of this ends and then when it is right for you to come back you will.”

“And when will that be?” Richard asked.

“In a few months’ time.” York answered.

“What do you want me to do until then?” Richard asked.

“Spend time with your wife.” York said simply. “Sire a son, secure your inheritance.”

The way York said that last bit made Richard asked. “Has Somerset said something?” He wouldn’t put it past that ingrate to try and get more than he had been given from the inheritance that was rightfully Richard’s wife’s.

“No, but he has sent his eldest son and heir to Glamorgan and the reports state that the boy is quite popular there.” York said. “Therefore, you need to have a son or at least another daughter to secure your wife’s inheritance before long.”

Richard sighed. “Fine, I will do that.”

“Good.” York said.

“What will you both be doing whilst I am away?” Richard asked.

“We’re going to try and ensure that things don’t get any more out of hand. Northumberland will be returning to London in the new year and as such the council will be more balanced once he returns.” York said. “At present, it is weighed in our favour, his return will bring balance, and thus perhaps bring deadlock.”

Richard raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to let that happen?”

“We’re going to wait and see what happens.” York replied.

“At the moment, with me, you and father on the council plus Worcester when needs be, we’ve gotten the road network done, and we’ve also gotten the sewage system sorted out. I go, Worcester will remain but Buckingham will turn back to Somerset in the interests of fairness, Kemp will do what the Queen tells him to, which will be to support Somerset, add in Northumberland and you’re outvoted on the council.” Richard said. “You can’t expect them to keep to your agenda, Your Highness.”

Father spoke then. “They will if they know what’s good for them.”

Richard snorted. “Do you think Somerset knows what’s good for him? The man has been pushing for more power since the disaster in France.”

“I know.” York said then, his tone was soft, but the way in which he said it made Richard think that that conversation was over. “You are to return to Warwick Castle on the morrow, take your household with you, lock up Sheen Manor and then stay in Warwick until we tell you it is okay to return.”

Richard bowed his head. “Yes, Your Highness.”

York nodded and then said. “Dismissed.”

Richard rose, bowed to York and then walked out of the room. He walked down the dimly lit corridor, taking a right turn and then a left turn, acknowledging the guards as he went. York was right, he had to get out of here before things spiralled out of control. Northumberland’s men fighting his own men had been a mistake. He should have ignored Ponyings’ jibes, but he hadn’t been able to. There was something deeply annoying about that man.

Richard took another turn and stopped. He hid behind a corner and listened as the two men he’d seen spoke.

“We can’t keep meeting like this.”

“Of course we can, nobody suspects anything.”

“What will we do if they do though?”

“We’ll tell them they’re wrong.”

“Will it be enough?”

“Yes. Now come with me, I’ve waited long enough.”

Richard listened as the two men’s footsteps disappeared into the distance, then looked around the corner. Those two men had been standing in front of a tapestry depicting King Edward I slaying the Welsh Dragon of rebellion. Had that been done deliberately? Or was it chance. And who were those two men and what were they plotting? His mind raced as he hurried down the corridor and made his way back to his Manor.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 27: A Girl Without Hope

January, 1455

​

Margaret smoothed out the creases in her dress, and checked her hair. Mother had told her again and again that it was important that she looked presentable. Mother had been going on and on about this day for some time now. Her uncle, the Duke of Somerset had come from London to visit them, and according to Mother he was going to inspect her to see if she was good enough to be betrothed to his son and Margaret’s cousin Henry. Margaret had expected this to happen for some time now, but she hadn’t thought it would be so soon.

She was only eleven after all. Nowhere near old enough for a proper betrothal, at least she didn’t think so. Still, she knew her duty and would do it to the best of her ability. A servant opened the door and announced. “His Lordship the Duke of Somerset.” Margaret straightened as a man strode into the room. He was tall, with darkish hair, and lines under his face. He walked confidently, and there was something about him, a confidence that suggested he knew where he was and why he was. Margaret was intrigued by it. When he stopped before her, she curtseyed.

“Lord Somerset.” She said.

“Niece.” The Duke said. “You look well.”

“Thank you, Lord Somerset, you do as well.” Margaret replied remembering her courtesies.

The Duke turned to the servant and said. “Close the door will you.” The servant did as he was bid and shut the door, leaving Margaret, her mother and the Duke alone. Margaret’s step-father and step-brother were away, as Mother had instructed. The Duke looked at Mother then and asked. “Where’s that boor you married?”

“He had to go on some business to do with the estate, my Lord Somerset. He sends his apologies.” Mother lied.

The Duke laughed. “Very well, I’ll make this simple. The King decreed that your daughter was to be betrothed to my Henry, I am here to see if that is agreeable to you all.”

“It is, very much so, my Lord Somerset.” Mother said.

The Duke nodded. “Good, and what of you, girl?”

Margaret looked at the Duke and swallowed, she suddenly felt as though her tongue had left her. She knew what she had to say, Mother had been quite insistent on getting her to practice the words, but for some reason, right now they had deserted her. She swallowed again and then said. “I am very happy to hear this, and would very much like to proceed, my Lord Somerset.”

The Duke looked at her for a moment, something changing in his facial expression and then he snorted. “Margaret, leave us.” Margaret was confused, did the Duke want her to leave? She was about to go, when the Duke put a hand on her shoulder and turned to look at her mother. “Margaret, I said to go.”

Mother looked shocked, her mouth opened wide, but she hurriedly curtseyed, walked to the door, opened it and walked out. The moment the door closed behind her, the Duke turned back to face Margaret and said. “Now, I’m going to ask you again, and I expect an honest answer, girl. What do you think of this betrothal?”

Margaret shifted from foot to foot. She didn’t know what to say. The only answers she could give the Duke were answers that Mother had had her repeat until she knew them by memory. But they were not honest answers. What did she think of this betrothal? She didn’t know. She took a breath and decided to go with that. “I do not know, Lord Somerset.”

“Good.” Her uncle answered. “You have not met my son, nor have you corresponded with him. How could you know what to think?”

“You are not disappointed with me?” Margaret asked.

Her uncle was clearly surprised at the question. “Disappointed? Why would I be disappointed with you, girl?”

“Because I did not tell you that I was exhilarated at the thought of the betrothal? Mother said I had to say that, otherwise you would be disappointed.” Margaret answered.

Her uncle sighed. “What has that woman been filling your head with?” He reached into his pocket and took something out. He stuck his hand out as if offering the thing to her, hesitantly Margaret reached out and took the thing. She looked at it and saw that it was a small drawing. “Do you know who that is?”

Margaret looked at the drawing, the figure had dark hair, and seemed to be smiling, but Margaret couldn’t quite tell. She looked up at the Duke and shook her head. “No, my lord, I do not.”

“That is your father.” The Duke said. “I drew this for him when we were children. I was close to your father, and I promised him I would look after you. I have not done a very good job of that so far, but I wish to make amends.”

Margaret nodded, not quite sure of where the Duke was going with this. “If you like, I can take you into my household as a ward, so that you can get to know your extended family, especially Henry. Would you like that?” The Duke asked.

Margaret thought about what the Duke had just said. Whilst she would miss her mother if she accepted, she would not miss being stuck here. She was growing tired of being here and having to listen to her step-father’s cutting remarks about her. She looked at her uncle and said. “I would very much like that.”

The Duke smiled. “Good, then I shall speak with your mother and arrange everything. You need not worry, Margaret, everything will be fine for you now.”

Margaret smiled back at him. “Thank you, Lord Somerset.”

The Duke laughed. “Please, do not be so formal with me, Margaret, I am your uncle, you can call me that.”

Margaret hesitated and then said. “Thank you…. uncle.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 28: Buckingham’s Concern

January, 1455

​

“The rivalries within the Council cannot be allowed to spread throughout the Kingdom.” Humphrey said as he and the Archbishop of Canterbury and Lord Chancellor walked through the gardens of the Palace of Westminster.

“I agree with you, Lord Buckingham, but those who have rivalries on the Council are men who are influential throughout the Kingdom. Men such as Salisbury and Northumberland who dominate the north, or York and Somerset who dominate the Marches and the Midlands. They are not men who can be persuaded to easily give up their grudges.” Lord Chancellor Archbishop Kemp said.

“Then we are going to be at a crossroads until some sort of solution is found.” Humphrey said. “And I do not think a crossroads is a good thing.” He knew his history; he knew the last time they’d been at a crossroads there had been a war and King Edward II had been deposed and then murdered.

“What would you suggest?” The Lord Chancellor asked.

Humphrey sighed. “The only thing I can think of is some sort of reconciliation day, where all sides agree to put aside their grievances and work together for the common good. But such an initiative would require the King’s blessing.” And the King was currently no better than a ghost, if Humphrey’s spies within the Royal household were correct.

“We could always give them a common enemy.” Kemp argued.

“Who?” Humphrey asked. “France has not antagonised us; Burgundy has no reason to. Ireland is quiet.”

“Scotland.” Kemp said. “I have had word that King James intends to recapture certain forts and lands that are still in our hands.”

“Has he not been planning on doing that for some time though?” Humphrey asked. If he remembered correctly, King James had been wanting to recapture Roxburgh for at least two years, though something or the other always arose to stop him.

“Yes, but this time I believe the situation has evolved.” Kemp answered.

“Evolved? How?” Humphrey asked.

“He has finally managed to bring the Douglases under control and has now rallied the remaining Scottish opposition under his banner. I believe he will now try to take back some of the land we hold as a sign of strength and to unite his people behind him.” Kemp said.

Humphrey sighed. Kemp was speaking sense, if King James had half the sense that their reports indicated he had, then he would most definitely be pursuing such a strategy. And truth be told so would Humphrey if he were in the man’s position. “So, we inform them of this and then what? Hope that Northumberland and Salisbury put their differences aside long enough to command the army in response?”

“We exaggerate the threat.” Kemp said. “Salisbury and Northumberland barely check the news coming from the borders anymore, and they are more likely to believe you due to your reputation.”

“How much exaggeration am I to put into this threat?” Humphrey asked feeling slightly ill at ease about this.

“Claim that King James is preparing on relaunching his ancestor’s claim to Northumbria if you must, my lord, but they must be made to see the seriousness of the problem.” The Lord Chancellor said.

Humphrey grunted, he doubted that anyone would believe him if he said that King James wanted Northumbria, no Scottish King had tried to claim it since King Alexander II, and that too had required King John to be at war with his barons. “Very well.” He said, a silence fell between the Lord Chancellor and Humphrey then, the two of them just walking and admiring the view.

Humphrey did have to admit that the Palace gardens were much more beautiful than he remembered. There were a lot of things growing here that he hadn’t seen before. He made a note to show his wife the gardens when she came to visit. He knew she would definitely like them. He stopped walking when the Lord Chancellor did and noticed that the man was grimacing. “Are you quite well, Lord Chancellor?” Humphrey asked.

The Lord Chancellor sighed. “I keep getting pains in my chest. I have spoken with the Doctor and he is not sure what the matter could be.”

“Do you want to sit down?” Humphrey asked, nodding to the benches that were close by.

The Lord Chancellor shook his head and then turned around when he heard someone call his name. Humphrey turned around as well and found himself looking at Leonard Hastings, a servant of the Duke of York’s. “My lords, forgive the interruption, but His Highness the Duke of York has requested your presence in the Council Chamber.”

Humphrey shared a look with Kemp before walking passed Hastings and back into the Palace. He briefly found himself wondering what could have happened to prompt the Lord Protector to summon them back to the Chamber. Had the King recovered? Had France broken the treaty? So many things were running through his head as he walked through the hallways and up the stairs to the Council Chamber, not all of them good thoughts.

When he and Kemp eventually got to the Council Chamber, they found York glaring at Somerset. “Your Highness?” Kemp said, getting York’s attention.

“Ah Lord Chancellor, Lord Buckingham, good you are both here.” York said. “I want your advice on something.”

“Certainly, Your Highness.” Humphrey said cautiously.

“Lord Somerset here has just informed me that he intends for his son Henry to marry Margaret Beaufort. He claims that His Grace the King approved of the marriage, but has nothing to support this claim. He did not come to the Council beforehand to seek approval for the marriage and as such I believe he has broken the law. He claims otherwise. Who is right?” York asked.

Humphrey shared a look with Kemp, this was dangerous ground to tread on. But the law was clear. The Lord Protector got the final say on betrothals when the King was incapacitated. Therefore, it was with great reluctance that Humphrey said. “You, Your Highness.”

“Lord Buckingham is correct.” Kemp said.

“I thought so.” York said. The man then clapped his hands and called out. “Guards, take Lord Somerset to the Tower.” Humphrey watched shocked as two guards walked in and grabbed Somerset by the arms and hauled him out of the room. He had a feeling this wasn’t going to end well at all.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 29: A Queen In Doubt

January, 1455

​

“His Highness the Duke of York, Your Grace.” The guard announced.

“Show him in.” Margaret commanded. She didn’t like that York was known as Highness again, it didn’t sit well with her, for reasons she couldn’t quite understand.

The doors opened, and York strode in confidently, he bowed before her. “Your Grace.”

“Sit.” Margaret commanded. York did as he was bid, looking just below her eyes as was proper.

“I heard something interesting just now, and wanted you to confirm it for me, Richard.” Margaret said.

“Your Grace?” York replied.

“I heard you had the Duke of Somerset imprisoned. Is that true?” Margaret asked. Lord Chancellor Kemp had sent a servant to tell her almost as soon as the incident had happened. Margaret had been beside herself with anger at that.

“Yes.” York replied without blinking.

Immediately, anger bubbled up inside of her, she fought to keep it down though and instead asked. “Why?”

“Because he decided to arrange a betrothal between his son and Lady Margaret Beaufort, without seeking the consent of the council or myself.” York replied.

“The King had previously told him he wished for that marriage to go ahead.” Margaret pointed out.

York shifted slightly. “Somerset mentioned the same, but given the King’s illness, and given the powers that have been invested in me by the council, Somerset should still have come to me about it before he decided to go ahead, Your Grace.”

The anger threatened to simmer to the surface so Margaret looked away from York and instead looked at the bookshelf to her left. “Was it truly necessary to throw him in the Tower though? Could he not have paid a fine?” She had been given to understand that was how things got resolved here. If someone married another person without Royal Consent they paid a fine and the matter was forgiven. Somerset hadn’t even married the girl to his son.

“A message needed to be sent, Your Grace.” York replied.

“A message?” Margaret asked confused.

“Yes, Your Grace. I am Lord Protector and until such a time that the King has recovered, I am acting in his name. Somerset would not dare arrange a betrothal without getting the King’s consent before it, therefore he must do the same here. I believe that putting him in the Tower will ensure that message gets through to him.” York said.

“And if it doesn’t?” Margaret asked. She knew Edmund, knew that he was unlikely to take kindly to this treatment.

“Then he will remain there until it does.” York said simply.

“And when it does, what then? Will you allow that betrothal to go through?” Margaret asked.

“I would see no reason not to let it go through, Your Grace.” York said.

Now that surprised her. Edmund had been convinced York would try and arrange a marriage between the Beaufort girl and one of his own sons. But here he was saying he’d let Beaufort marry Edmund’s son. She’d need to go and tell Edmund that, get him to see sense. “How long do you intend to keep Edmund in the Tower for?”

“As long as is necessary.” York replied.

Margaret took a breath and looked at the man, he seemed sincere, there didn’t seem to be a bone of malice within him. Therefore, despite her better judgement, Margaret said. “Very well, thank you for explaining this to me.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” York said.

“You may go.” Margaret said. York rose, bowed and then straightened up and walked out of the room.

“Guard.” Margaret called, the guard appeared. “Get Sir Jack Dee for me.”

“There is no need, Your Grace, I am here.” A silvery voice said from the door. Margaret looked passed the guard and almost jumped out of her chair when she saw Dee standing there. The man wore a cloak and had the most ridiculous beard on his face.

“May I enter, Your Grace?” Dee asked from the door.

“Yes.” Margaret replied. Dee strode in and bowed before her. “I have just spoken to York.” Margaret explained. “He has imprisoned Somerset in the Tower.”

“My mice saw them dragging him to the Tower, Your Grace.” Dee said. “He had a bloody lip.”

Margaret nodded, she had not thought that Edmund would take it lightly. “York says he will let Edmund go when Edmund realises that he must view York as the King’s representative and thus come to him with the betrothal plan before he finalises it.”

“That is just a pretext, Your Grace.” Dee said.

“A pretext?” Margaret asked.

“Yes, York doesn’t want Somerset to view him merely as the King’s representative, York wants to be viewed as the King. He wants to stamp his authority on proceedings and to ensure his hold over affairs is complete by the time the King recovers.” Dee said.

Margaret frowned. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes.” Dee replied. “My mice have overheard York and Salisbury talking about building up their forces to deal with Somerset and Northumberland. Warwick was sent by York back to the Midlands to build up an army.”

“An army?!” Margaret exclaimed.

“Yes, Your Grace. York wants to assume complete control and the only way he can do that is by having numerical superiority to his enemies.” Dee said.

“But why?” Margaret asked. “There has been no cause for him to do this.”

“I believe that Salisbury has been whispering to him. Telling him that his family will only be secure if he acts to take the throne. The old issues that plagued the reign of King Henry IV have returned, Your Grace.” Dee said.

“So, how do we deal with this?” Margaret asked.

“You must bring more supporters of Somerset onto the Council.” Dee replied. “Men like Shrewsbury and Devon, men who will stand for Your Grace’s interest and ensure His Highness the Prince of Wales has a Kingdom to inherit.”

“Such appointments need York’s approval though.” Margaret pointed out. “He is the Lord Protector.”

Dee smiled a terrifying smile then. “Fear not, Your Grace. I have a plan to ensure he has no choice but to ensure that this happens.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 30: Sister

February, 1455

​

Cecily walked arm in arm with her brother, Richard, Earl of Salisbury, down the hallway of his stately manor house, well their family’s stately manor house, it had once belonged to their father, but now belonged to him. As they walked, she asked him. “Did you have a hand in Dickon arresting Somerset?” When her husband had come back from that Council meeting to tell her what he’d done she’d worried. Worried that the Queen would now have an excuse to target him, but the Queen had done nothing, yet.

“No. That was all Dickon’s idea.” Richard replied. “I think he was glad to finally have an excuse to throw Somerset in prison.”

“And do you think it will stick?” Cecily asked. She was aware of what Somerset was like, having met him a few times before. He was spiteful, ambitious and greedy, he would never let this go if he were let out.

“I think so. Somerset is refusing to pay the fine. Until he pays the fine he can’t be let out.” Richard replied.

“And has he gotten any support from the Council?” Cecily asked.

“No.” Richard replied. “Indeed, it appears even Northumberland has abandoned him. His obstinacy is costing him allies.”

Cecily breathed a sigh of relief, if even Northumberland wasn’t sticking by Somerset then things must have changed. “That is good.”

“Indeed, though I am concerned about what Dickon does actually intend to do with Margaret Beaufort.” Richard said.

“What do you mean?” Cecily asked, her husband hadn’t mentioned the Beaufort girl to her at all, which was odd, if he had any plans for her. Usually he discussed such plans in detail with her before acting on them, he had when he’d agreed to marry their Anne to that brute Exeter.

“He mentioned offhand the other day that Margaret would make a good bride for your Edmund, and that he might just push it through now.” Richard said.

“Oh, yes.” Cecily replied, Richard had mentioned that to her a while back, she had assumed that that would be his final decision, Edward was going to inherit everything else after all. She saw her brother frowning though and thus asked. “Is that the wrong decision?”

“I don’t think it’s the wrong decision, it’s smart, but I do think Dickon should wait until the King has recovered before he makes any actual moves to get the girl. Otherwise it will look bad.” Richard answered.

Cecily sighed. She could understand where her brother was coming from, but at the same time, if the King recovered there was nothing to say that he wouldn’t just go ahead with the betrothal between Henry Beaufort and Margaret Beaufort, to appease his cousin. She didn’t bother saying that though because she knew her brother knew that. Instead, she changed the topic. “Does Somerset have many followers left?”

“Yes.” Richard said. “Surprisingly he does.”

“Who?” Cecily asked.

“Our nephew.” Richard replied.

“Ralph?” Cecily exclaimed. “I thought he had gone mad.”

“So had I.” Richard replied. “But it seems that was all an act.”

“An act?” Cecily murmured, she did not think their nephew capable of it. He had always been a kind child, sweet as well, but then when his father had died, and his mother had whispered that poison in his ear, he had changed. He had become vindictive and hateful.

“Yes, I think he wanted us to lower our guard. Now he’s reached an agreement with Somerset, my men in his household reported that this agreement includes a marriage between Westmoreland himself and Somerset’s daughter Mary.” Richard said.

“In return for what?” Cecily asked.

“In return for any armed assistance that they can provide should a struggle break out.” Richard said softly.

“A struggle?” Cecily said.

“A struggle.” Richard confirmed.

“Why does Somerset imagine there is going to be a struggle?” Cecily asked. “Richard has never given any indication that he wants to use arms to achieve his aims.”

“Dartford.” Richard countered.

“That was a thing of last resort.” Cecily said. It was true, Richard had not wanted to raise arms against the King but he had felt he had had no choice to do so. The King had failed to listen to every single one of his complaints.

“Somerset has been using that as a reason to gather support, armed support. Westmoreland might not be rich in money, but he still has a lot of men. Enough to form a significant army.” Richard said.

“And do you think it will come to that?” Cecily asked. “And have you told Richard?”

“Yes I have, and I do not know. My hope is that it does not come to that. But knowing Somerset and knowing the King, I fear that it will.” Richard replied.

“So, what are you going to do?” Cecily asked. Her brother always had a plan, even when he claimed he didn’t.

“I am going to send word to Warwick Castle and inform my son that the time has come for him to start preparing.” Richard said.

“To raise men?” Cecily asked.

“Yes.” Her brother answered.

“Won’t that just raise suspicions amongst Somerset’s supporters and the Queen?” The Queen who already hated them.

“It might, but we must prepare.” Richard said. “I’ve already had word that Northumberland has asked his sons to prepare as well.”

“For what?” Cecily asked. “I thought you said Northumberland had abandoned Somerset?”

“He has, but just because he has doesn’t mean that he won’t take the opportunity for conflict to get his own back for what he perceives we have done.” Richard answered.

Cecily sighed. “You men are just idiots. Why can’t all of this be forgiven and why can’t you all move on?”

Richard laughed. “Because we do not have a strong monarch to whip us all into line.”

Cecily raised an eyebrow at her brother. “Is that what it takes?”

“Yes.” Richard answered. “A strong monarch who scares his nobles ensures stability in the Kingdom. A weak King breeds disorder.”

“So, what is my husband then?” Cecily asked.

“He could be a strong King if he wanted to.” Richard answered.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 31: Bedford

March, 1455

​

“Your Grace.” Jacquetta said curtseying.

“Jacquetta, please rise.” The Queen said.

The Queen moved to one of the chairs near the window, Jacquetta took the chair opposite her. She waited until the Queen had sat down before sitting down herself. A moment passed, then the Queen spoke. “Have you heard the news?”

“Your Grace?” Jacquetta asked unsure of which piece of news the Queen was referring to.

“The Duke of York has betrothed his son, Edmund, to Margaret Beaufort, thus ensuring that at a stroke his family grows in power.” The Queen answered.

Ah. Jacquetta thought to herself. She had known York for a few years now, having first met him when their husbands were both serving in Normandy. She had never liked him, finding him far too upright and uptight. But this, this was something else. “I had not heard, Your Grace. How do you feel about it?” Jacquetta asked.

The Queen didn’t reply immediately though her brow furrowed, which Jacquetta knew meant she wasn’t happy. “I think that York’s reasoning is not wrong. He needs to secure an inheritance for his younger sons, but after having had Somerset imprisoned for trying to do the same thing, it does ring a bit hollow to me.”

“Could Your Grace not veto it?” Jacquetta asked. “After all, Lady Margaret is a member of the King’s extended family.”

The Queen shook her head. “No, York is the only one with that power as Lord Protector, and the King is not well enough to do anything about it. Besides, even if he were I do not think it would be a wise idea to veto this betrothal.”

“Why do you say so, Your Grace?” Jacquetta asked though she had an idea as to why.

The Queen took a deep breath and replied. “Because York is powerful and because he has been nothing but loyal. I might disagree with some of the things he has done, but he has worked hard to restore order to the Kingdom.”

Jacquetta opened her mouth to point out that York had no doubt had a hand in Salisbury’s letter, her husband was convinced of it, but closed it and decided to change tack. “I can see Your Grace’s point. Still, that cannot be a good thing to think of. York enriching his family at the cost of those who have served the Crown without ever getting ideas into their heads.”

Jacquetta knew she was playing a very dangerous game here, by mentioning York’s attempted uprising at Dartford, and referencing the Cade Rebellion but she needed to know where the Queen stood on that end. Especially, if as Richard had told her, Salisbury and Warwick were preparing for war. The Queen sighed once more. “You are right, but there is very little I can actually do. Somerset rots in the Tower, Northumberland spends more time worrying about the Scots, Buckingham is a neutral arbiter and Kemp has now retired to his diocese.”

“The Archbishop is old though, Your Grace. Surely, Your Grace has an idea of who to replace him with.” Jacquetta replied.

“I did.” The Queen said. “But the moment The Archbishop retired, York announced Salisbury as Lord Chancellor. And because Worcester is going away travelling, he’s also named The Duke of Norfolk as Lord High Treasurer.”

“Norfolk?” Jacquetta exclaimed. She had met the man a few times, he was wild and uncontrollable, what was York thinking by appointing him?

“Indeed, that was what I had thought, but it seems that most of the Treasurer’s duties are being held by York or one of his deputies. Sir Leonard Hastings. Norfolk is only symbolic.” The Queen said.

“Ah.” Jacquetta replied. She knew that something would need to change to ensure that the Queen’s position was secure. Somerset might be an idiot, but she did not think his son was. Henry Beaufort had the makings of a great man, of that Jacquetta was sure.

“But enough about that. Tell me, how have you all been? I have missed you at court.” The Queen said.

“We have been well, thank you, Your Grace.” Jacquetta said. “Elizabeth, my eldest daughter has just given birth to a son. A healthy boy named Henry, after His Grace the King.”

The Queen smiled. “I had heard yes, I had been meaning to send my congratulations, but with everything going on at court.”

“I understand, Your Grace.” Jacquetta replied.

“And what of your other children?” The Queen asked.

“Well, my husband and I are currently looking for a husband for our daughter Anne.” Jacquetta said, letting a possible suggestion hang in the air.

“And, have you found anyone?” The Queen asked.

“Unfortunately, not yet. It seems things have become very quiet.” Jacquetta replied.

The Queen frowned. “That is no good at all. Do you want some assistance?”

You’ve got a candidate I want. Jacquetta thought to herself, however she replied. “If that would not strain Your Grace’s time?”

The Queen smiled. “Not at all, I would be delighted to help.”

Good, maybe then I can move you toward Somerset’s brood. Jacquetta thought to herself. “Thank you, Your Grace.” Jacquetta replied smiling.

There was a knock on the door then. “Enter.” The Queen commanded. The door opened and a servant hurried in, he bent down low and whispered in the Queen’s ear. The Queen turned to look at the servant and asked. “Are you sure.”

“Completely, Your Grace. The man the Lord Chamberlain sent was most insistent that I tell you at once.” The servant replied.

The Queen grinned. “Excellent, thank you. Here.” The woman reached into a bag at her side and pulled out two gold coins. “Take this.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” The servant replied, bowing before scampering away.

The Queen turned back to her then and said. “I must apologise, Jacquetta, but I must leave for London at once.”

“Your Grace?” Jacquetta asked alarmed.

“It appears His Grace the King has recovered.” The Queen said.

Jacquetta smiled. “That is wonderful news, Your Grace.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 32: A Return To Sanity

March, 1455

​

The sun hit him in the face. Henry tried desperately to prevent it from doing so, but no matter how slight his movements-and they were slight-nothing changed. The sun still hit him squarely in the face. It was rather aggravating. How he had come to be in this position he did not know. But now that he was in it, he would need to find a way to work around it. Henry cleared his throat and called out. A servant appeared then, a young boy, handsome, who Henry did not recognise. “You, untie these things.” He commanded.

“Yes, Your Grace.” The servant replied, moving toward him, and slowly and surely undoing the things that prevented him from moving freely.

Once they fell to the ground, Henry exhaled deeply, feeling a great relief at not having to be tied toward something. “What day is it?” Henry asked the servant.

“It is Wednesday, Your Grace.” The servant said.

“And the month?” Henry asked, he got the feeling that something big had happened.

“March, Sire.” The servant said.

There was a knock on the door, which then proceeded to open. Another servant stepped in, this one was deformed, ugly. “His Highness the Duke of York is outside, Sire.”

“Send him in.” Henry said, unable to quite process what the other servant had said. How could it be March?

York strode in confidently, wearing the badge of office that marked him out as Lord Protector, Henry frowned at that. Had he truly been gone for that long? “Your Grace.” York replied bowing.

“Sit.” Henry commanded. York did as he was bid, sitting in a chair opposite Henry. “The servants tell me that it is March, Richard, is that true?”

York sighed, that was not a good sign. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“You mean to tell me that I have been out for all this time?” Henry demanded. He could not believe it. How had this happened? The last time had only been for a few weeks, not months.

“Yes Sire.” York said.

“What caused it?” Henry demanded.

“Her Grace the Queen miscarried, Sire.” York said softly.

“She miscarried?” Henry asked.

“Yes, Sire.” York replied.

Henry took a breath, the memories flooding back to him. Him leaning down and feeling blood on Margaret’s legs, seeing the blood staining her skirts, looking up at her and her telling him that she had been with child. Then the darkness. Until now. “Where is she? Where is my wife?” Henry demanded.

York raised his hands out as if to touch Henry, causing him to flinch back in his chair. York pulled his hands back and said. “She’s gone to visit the Dowager Duchess of Bedford, Your Grace. I have sent a messenger out to inform her that you are awake.”

Henry nodded, uncurling his arms and asked. “What has happened since I was gone?” It felt strange to know that so much time had passed since his little incident. It was unnerving.

“I shall focus on the main events, if that is quite alright with you, Sire?” York replied.

“Do so.” Henry commanded.

“New road networks have been built across the Kingdom. This has seen an increase in trade that is slowly starting to rebuild the Kingdom’s coffers. Relations with Burgundy have improved considerably, the peace treaty with France has also seen trade resume.” York said.

“Good.” Henry said, he was genuinely pleased at that. He had always thought that a never-ending war with France would be terrible for them.

“But there has also been some bad news.” York said.

Something in Henry’s stomach dropped at that. He saw York frown and said. “Go on, I will not break, I promise.” He did not know if he could keep that promise.

“There was an attack on Lord Egremont a few months ago during a feast that he was holding to celebrate the birth of his daughter. Three of his brothers died in the attack, and those responsible for it are still at large.” York said.

“I see.” Henry said. “I will write to Egremont.” The man would want to hear from the King, Henry was sure.

“Of course, Your Grace.” York said.

“And?” Henry asked.

“Sire?” York replied.

“What other bad news is there? I have found that where good news comes, there is usually a similar amount of bad news.” Henry said. “So, tell me what the other piece of bad news is.”

York shifted slightly in his chair. Henry got the feeling that he was preparing to tell him something very unsavoury, and thus braced himself for that. What York said though was nowhere near as serious as Henry had first thought. “I have had to send Lord Somerset to the Tower, Sire.”

“Why?” Henry asked.

“Because he tried to do something without seeking approval from the Council or from myself, and has since refused to pay the fine that would see him released from the Tower.” York replied.

Henry sighed. Edmund had gotten himself into trouble again. Why did that not surprise Henry. He was growing tired of his cousin’s constant stubbornness. “Surely he would have realised that with you in charge, compliance would be the best thing to do?” Henry asked.

York laughed. “I think Lord Somerset does not like me very much, Sire. Hence his actions.”

Henry sighed. “Very well, thank you for mentioning these things to me. Inform the Council that I shall be coming to the next meeting.”

“Sire.” York said.

“When is the next meeting?” Henry asked.

“In two days’ time, Sire.” York replied.

“Very well, thank you. You may go.” Henry said. York rose, bowed and then left. Once he was gone, Henry was left thinking to himself that something about what York had said didn’t seem right to him. Somerset may not like York, but would he completely defy him if he knew that the man held power? And then there was the Egremont issue. That sounded like something a rival would do. A blatant infringement of the norms of their time. Something was going on here.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 33: Crofts

April, 1455

​

“Take that box over to the pantry and make sure the cook knows it’s there.” John Crofts, Steward of Ludlow Castle commanded.

“Yes, Sir.” One of the servants said.

John watched as the man picked up the thing and hurried away. They were all in a bit of a rush because a letter had arrived today from the Duchess of York, informing them that she would be returning to Ludlow for the summer. As such, John knew they had to hurry through everything. The Duchess did not like things to be messy.

“James, can you hurry things up a bit please, you’re giving me a heart problem.” John barked at his second in command, his brother James. The man gave him a one fingered gesture before hurrying things along.

A servant bowed before John and said. “This came through just now, Sir. It’s for the stables.”

John took the thing from the servant and looked at it. It was a small piece of paper with a little dragon on it. Shit. He knew exactly what that meant. He looked at the servant. “Thank you, I’ll handle this.” The servant bowed and hurried away. John watched him go and then turned and hurried along to the stables.

He nodded to various people as he all but ran to the stables. It was important that nobody saw him talking to who he suspected was going to be waiting for him. But it was also important that he did not give anyone any reason to suspect that something was up. He slowed to a brisk walk as the stables got in sight. At the door, he stopped, took a breath and then pushed the door open. Immediately he was hit by smells of shit and piss. He’d need to tell William to do a better job of cleaning this place out.

He looked around trying to find the figure, but couldn’t, he was about to turn and walk out when a slightly high pitched voice spoke.

“You should really tell your man to clean this place.”

John squinted and whispered. “Who is it?”

A figure stepped out from behind a pillar. They wore riding gear, and as they stepped closer, John got the faintest smell of perfume. “You know who I am.” The figure said, their voice deeper now.

“What do you want?” John asked.

“To see how you are doing.” The figure replied. “It’s been sometime since we spoke.”

“You told me not to write to you.” John snarled. The figure had made that quite clear.

“I know.” The figure said. “So, what’s happened?”

“The Duchess of York is coming to Ludlow to be with her sons. Her younger children are coming with her.” John said. “We’re preparing for her arrival.”

“I know.” The figure said.

A silence and then John sighed. “My brother William has written to say that Warwick’s built up a strong force. He’s just waiting for the right moment to strike.”

“Against who?” The figure asked.

“Northumberland. It seems he’s been told to pre-empt any move that Northumberland might make.” John said.

“Good.” The figure replied.

“Good?” John asked surprised. “I thought you didn’t want there to be a war?”

The figure sighed. “War is inevitable now. Salisbury and Northumberland want it to happen, so does Somerset. The Queen, the King and York are all just pawns in their game.”

“Your game you mean.” John said.

The figure feigned hurt. “I am not playing any game, John. I am merely trying to ensure that the Kingdom is secure.”

“You are pushing the Kingdom to war.” John said.

The figure turned serious then. “And you will get what you want. Revenge for your brother and your sister’s husband.”

John exhaled. His brother Richard had been slain during Egremont’s attack on Salisbury’s party as had his brother by marriage, Henry. Both had been good men and they had been denied justice. John had met this figure then, and he had promised him revenge. “What more do you want? You sent a letter., why come here as well?”

The figure smiled. “Because I need you to do something for me.”

“What?” John asked.

“I need you to push the Duchess of York into pressuring her husband into marrying his son to Margaret Beaufort within the year.” The figure said.

“The boy won’t be eligible to marry until next year. He’s only twelve now.” John said.

“I’m not talking about Edmund.” The figure said.

“You want the Beaufort girl to marry Edward? Why?” John asked.

“Because it will get the situation we want.” The figure said.

“And that is?” John asked.

“A state where by England can prosper with a King who is willing to fight for her.” the figure replied.

“And if York refuses? Which we both know he will.” John asked.

“Then you are to propose the other option we discussed.” The figure said.

“Marrying his son Thomas to the Neville girl?” John asked.

“Yes.” The figure said. “That will provoke Somerset and the Queen.”

“And you are sure that Somerset is going to be released?” John asked.

“Yes, the King will be learning about the true reason for why he was imprisoned soon enough.” The figure said.

John sighed. “Fine, I will do what you ask.”

The figure smiled. “Good.” The figure made to disappear, but before he did, John grabbed his hand and asked.

“How will I know that all of this is over?”

The figure smiled. “When England is strong again.” The figure wrenched his hand out of John’s grip and then walked away. John watched the figure go and sighed.

What had he gotten himself into and why had he allowed his desire for revenge cloud his better judgement? He did not know, but he had said he would do it, and so he would. Even if it meant he ended up dead.

John looked at the thing in his hand and tore it up, allowing the paper to fall to the ground. He’d deal with it later. He took another breath and then walked out of the stables, and made his way back to the main forecourt.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 34: Northman

April, 1455

​

“The Scots are aiming to retake Roxburgh before the year is out, Your Grace.” Richard Neville, Earl of Salisbury said.

“How do you know this?” The King asked.

“My sons Thomas and John were patrolling the border regions when they came across a Scottish camp very close to the agreed upon border, Sire.” Richard answered.

“Is that necessarily a sign that King James wants war?” The King asked.

Richard wanted to roll his eyes in frustration, the King may have become firmer since his return from madness, but he was still naïve, painfully so. “I can think of no other reason for there to be such a gathering of men, then for war.”

“How many men were there?” The King asked.

“At the last count, Thomas put it at roughly five thousand men.” Richard said.

“So, a large enough force to commit to a fight, or a siege, but not big enough to actually commit to a war.” The Earl of Northumberland said.

“Still big enough that we should consider action.” Richard replied.

“And what sort of action would you recommend His Grace take?” Northumberland asked. “In case you have forgotten, Lord Salisbury the last time discussions about action were made as regards to Ireland and to the trouble in Wales, you and your son both said the Crown had little money for such costly ventures.”

Richard shifted slightly. Northumberland had him there. But then at the same time, the issue in Ireland had been dealt with by the Earl of Desmond and the Welsh were always moaning about something or the other. Scotland was a different matter. Scotland could help rebuild the Crown’s image. He took a breath and then said. “I am aware of what I said, thank you, Lord Northumberland. However, I am not going to sit idly by whilst the Scots threaten English territory.”

“You have not answered Lord Northumberland’s question, Richard.” The King said. “What do you propose we do?”

“We must first start with diplomacy. Send some representatives to Edinburgh to meet with King James to understand what is happening.” Richard said.

“And if that fails?” The King asked.

“Then we must muster the army and march northwards to handle the situation.” Richard said.

“Isn’t the territory near the borders also Douglas land?” The Duke of Norfolk asked.

“Yes.” Richard said, guessing at where Norfolk was going.

“Then isn’t it possible that King James has marshalled those men to handle the Douglases?” Norfolk asked.

“I highly doubt he would need five thousand men to deal with a vassal who himself can only muster roughly six hundred men at a push.” Richard replied.

“Who knows, Douglas may have surprised him.” The King said, his tone odd.

“Sire?” Richard asked then not entirely sure where this conversation was going, he risked a look at the Duke of York and saw that Dickon was looking anywhere but at him.

“We shall send representatives northwards to Edinburgh, to get at the heart of what it is King James is doing. Indeed, we think that you should go north.” The King said.

“Sire?” Richard replied.

“You are the one who believes there is a great threat at our door, therefore it is only right that you be the one to go and see if the threat is real.” The King said.

“Of course, Sire.” Richard replied.

The King nodded then said. “Now with the death of Archbishop Kemp, your role as Lord Chancellor will be permanent, however, I would like for you to come up with a list of possible replacements for him in the Archbishopric, for me to give to Rome.”

“Of course, Sire.” Richard replied, he had the perfect solution. His brother was Bishop of Durham and one of the more influential members of the Clergy, and the King got along with him. If he recommended him, he was convinced the Pope would appoint him to the role.

“Good.” The King said. “Now, let us turn to another matter. The issue of this arms gathering that has been happening amongst certain lords in the south.”

“It is illegal.” Northumberland said. “Only Your Grace can get people to raise arms.”

Interesting that you say that Northumberland, given your son’s activities. Richard thought to himself. His own son, Warwick, had written to him to inform him that Northumberland’s son Egremont had raised at last count some 2000 men, for what purpose they didn’t know-though it was obvious-and that these men were riding around the countryside in Yorkshire as if they ruled the entire domain as Kings.

“So, then what is the solution?” The King asked.

“An Act of Parliament, Sire.” Richard said softly.

“Go on.” The King said.

“There has been a breakdown in order since the war with France turned south, Sire. As such certain ambitious lords, have tried to take matters into their own hands. This is clearly in violation of established precedent. Therefore, my suggestion would be to put before Parliament an act that prevents the lords from raising men before receiving a commission from Your Grace. I know that the Commons would greatly appreciate this, as it would prevent their sons and brothers and fathers from having to die in the petty feuds of the lords.” Richard said, though he knew such a bill would impact him, it would also impact Northumberland, which is why he was not surprised when Northumberland spoke up in protest.

“Such a bill whilst understandable would go against the ancient privileges enjoyed by the nobility, Your Grace. It may seem like a chaotic scene to allow for the lords to raise their levies to defend themselves, but given the situation within the Kingdom, it is understandable.” Northumberland said.

I’ve got you now. Salisbury thought to himself. “Are you accusing His Grace of not defending the Kingdom?”

Richard agreed with that view, the King was weak. Northumberland stuttered a response. “No, of course not.”

“Then we shall have this Act introduced.” The King said. “Introduce it in the Lords first.”

Richard nodded. “Of course, Sire.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 35: Somerset’s Digs

May, 1455

​

The door to his cell opened, which prompted Edmund to stand up. He’d not had a single visitor since he’d been imprisoned. Clearly York didn’t want anyone talking to him and getting any ideas, so this was a nice a change. He instinctively fell to his knees when the King walked in. The man was dressed in red and blue, and wore a black hat on his head.

“Your Grace.” Edmund said kissing the King’s feet.

“Edmund.” The King replied calmly. “Stand up.”

Edmund did as he was bid. “Please, Your Grace, have a seat.” Edmund said gesturing to the bench that was facing the right-hand wall.

The King sat down on the bench whilst Edmund sat on his bed. “You are well?” The King asked.

“As well as can be, Sire.” Edmund replied not quite believing that the King was sat before him. “If I might ask, Sire, when did you?”

“About a month ago.” The King said. “There has been a lot of work to do since then.”

“I can imagine.” Edmund said. “Forgive me, for not being there to welcome you, Sire. York’s petty grievances got in the way.” That and Edmund’s own stubbornness.

The King clearly knew that as well for he chuckled. “We both know that York’s reasoning was without fault.”

“Sire?” Edmund replied surprised.

“What were you thinking trying to betroth your son to Margaret without getting York’s approval as Lord Protector?” The King demanded.

Edmund shifted slightly on the bed. He had not thought the King would come at him from this angle. “I…I was only following through on what we had discussed, Sire.”

“And you just assumed that you didn’t need to seek York’s approval?” The King demanded. “Edmund, you had not submitted anything for approval from me or from the Church, the marriage couldn’t have gone ahead, even if I was not incapacitated. You should have known that.”

Edmund sighed. The King was right. He had acted hastily, far too hastily. “I know, Sire. I’ve had a lot of time to think about that in here.”

“So, why did you not go to York if you knew what the situation was?” The King asked.

“Because I did not think he would agree to the marriage. I had heard rumours that he intended to marry Margaret to his own son.” Edmund answered.

The King sighed once more. “Then you are a fool, Edmund. And an even bigger fool for refusing to pay the fine that would get you out of here.”

Here, Edmund bristled. “I am not going to pay money that would go straight into York’s pocket, Sire.” Norfolk might have been named Lord High Treasurer, but Edmund knew exactly where the money was going.

“You refused to pay the fine even after I recovered. One presumes that is because you did not know that I had indeed recovered.” The King said sharply.

Edmund bowed his head. “Yes, Sire.” Nobody had told him anything.

“Well that changes now.” The King said.

Edmund looked up. “Sire?”

The King had a strange look in his eyes, it was somewhere between determination and anger. Edmund felt himself shrink back a little on the bed. “You are going to pay the fine, then when you are released, you are going to come to court and formally apologise to York.”

“Sire?!” Edmund protested.

“No, this feud of yours has gone on long enough. It cost us France, I will not have it cost us the peace within the Kingdom as well.” The King said.

The thought of having to apologise to York was physically and mentally repellent to Edmund, but his King had commanded it, so he would have to do it. “Yes, Sire.”

“Good. A man is going to come to your door after I am gone. You are to tell him that you wish to pay the fine. He is going to quote two figures to you, you are to accept the second one.” The King commanded.

“Yes, Sire.” Edmund replied surprised. Had the King known that this would happen? Had he been planning this? Edmund wasn’t sure. The King he remembered was the sort of person who would not be able to do this, but maybe the King had changed due to his illness.

“Good.” The King said, smiling. “Now there was one other piece of information I wished to give you.”

“Sire?” Edmund asked, wondering what new thing the King was going to give him.

“As another part of the reconciliation between you and York, you are to marry your son Henry to his daughter Elizabeth.” The King said.

“What?!” Edmund exclaimed. “Sire, I thought that York’s daughter was betrothed to Suffolk?” That was the news he had last heard at least.

“No. That betrothal was never formally confirmed, besides, this marriage is more to the benefit of the Kingdom.” The King said.

“Has York agreed?” Edmund asked. Given how much York hated him he very much doubted it.

“Yes.” The King replied.

“He has?!” Edmund exclaimed. He didn’t know whether to believe that or not. York agreeing to marry one of his daughters to Edmund’s son? It seemed ridiculous quite frankly.

“Yes, the man knows when to put aside old grievances. This will help heal the Kingdom.” The King said.

Everything in Edmund’s body was screaming at him to reject this, but the way the King was looking at him made him think that doing so would not be a very good idea. Consequently, he took a deep breath and then said. “Very well, Sire, I consent.”

The King smiled. “Good, there will be a formal ceremony at the Palace in a few days’ time, you are to be there, and then in three weeks’ time your Henry and York’s girl will be formally betrothed.”

“Yes, Sire.” Edmund replied, standing up as the King rose, they walked to the door, Edmund bowed to the King and then watched as he walked out. The door closed and Edmund sighed. Things had just gotten a lot more complicated.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 36: Dorset

May, 1455​

Henry Beaufort, Earl of Dorset threw the letter onto the ground and groaned. “Why am I doing this?”

He felt Morgan snuggle into his side and heard the man whisper. “Because you are a dutiful son who knows what is at stake if you don’t?”

Henry looked at Morgan, the man claimed to be a descendant of Owain Gwyndyr, and with his dark hair and dark eyes, he certainly could’ve passed as one. Henry didn’t much care though, he loved Morgan. The man was strong willed and caring, something Henry had not experienced with others. And Morgan was always the wife in their dealings, never the husband. Henry took a breath and then said. “This isn’t going to end well. Father doesn’t like York and York doesn’t like Father. Sooner or later they’re going to start a fight and then my future wife and I are going to have to choose.”

“Why do you think there’s going to be a fight?” Morgan asked.

Henry shifted slightly on the bed and said. “Because that’s how this ends. My father and York cannot get along with one another. They cannot stand one another. They will fight one another to kill the other and remove a rival for the King’s attention.”

“They sound like the wives of some of the men here.” Morgan joked referring to a trend that had developed in Glamorgan of women fighting one another to win the affections of their husbands.

“I know.” Henry said simply. “And now Father wants me to marry York’s daughter.”

“He says she looks pretty.” Morgan pointed out.

Henry frowned. “I don’t care if she looks pretty, she’s a fucking child.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Morgan asked. “That way you can shape her views as you wish. Make her hate her father, make her love you.”

Henry shook his head. “I won’t do that.”

“Why not?” Morgan asked, Henry saw that now the man was frowning as well, he looked oddly adorable like that.

“I am not a monster, Morgan. I won’t turn a girl against her father.” Henry said. “And I won’t demand something of her that she likely won’t give.”

“So, you’ll be miserable then?” Morgan asked.

“I won’t be miserable. I’ll have you.” Henry replied, leaning down to kiss Morgan on the lips.

Morgan pulled away after a few moments though and said. “That’s only if you come back here. I don’t know if you will. And you said it yourself, the King might want you to remain at Westminster.”

Henry sighed. Morgan was right there. Father had written to say that the King wanted him to attend a betrothal ceremony at the end of the month, and from there who knew. “You could come in my household.” Henry suggested.

Morgan laughed. “You know that won’t go over well. A Welshman in the heart of the English state? Oh, that most definitely won’t go down well.”

“Then we will just have to wait.” Henry replied, kissing Morgan again, his hand slid down onto Morgan’s chest and was working its way down when there was a knock on the door. Henry sighed, stood up and walked to the door, opening it and looking at Sir Richard Dagenham, the Commander of his Household Guard. “Yes?” He asked.

If Dagenham was perturbed by Henry’s nakedness, he didn’t show it. Instead he simply said. “A letter arrived from the border, my lord.”

“And what does it say?” Henry asked.

Dagenham reached into the bag that Henry saw was slung around his shoulder and pulled out a slightly crumpled letter. The man then handed it to him. Henry opened it read it.

Lord Henry,

We have been attacked. Men flying no banner but coming from the Lordship of Gwynllwg attacked the town and tried to burn the castle. We captured one of their number who told us that he had been ordered to do so by one of their senior commanders. Who, he would not say.

We think that there will be another attack next month. Please send aid.

Yours

Sir William Montagu, Garrison commander Caerphilly.

Henry swore once he had finished reading. He looked at Dagenham and asked. “Is the rider who brought this letter still here?”

“Yes, my lord. He’s being treated right now.” Dagenham said.

“Good, I’ll get ready and then go and see him. Tell Floris and the others that I want them in my solar by the end of the evening, we’re going to plan.” Henry said, his mind whirring.

“Of course my lord.” Dagenham said.

Henry shut the door and walked back into the room proper. Morgan looked at him then. “What’s happened?”

“That cunt Warwick ordered men to burn Caerphilly.” Henry said.

Morgan sat up straight then. “Why?”

“Because he’s a cunt who wants to start a fight.” Henry said, grabbing his clothes from the floor.

“Do you know it’s him?” Morgan asked, getting up from the bed.

Henry stopped what he was doing and looked at Morgan. “Who else could it be? Warwick is the Lord of that shit hole next to us. He’s made his intentions clear before now.”

“Then perhaps storming off to fight him isn’t a good idea.” Morgan said.

“What would you suggest then?” Henry demanded.

“Is the rider who delivered the letter here?” Morgan asked.

“Yes.” Henry said, breathing heavily.

“Then speak with him, hear what he has to say. Meet with the council, get their thoughts and then act.” Morgan replied. “Charging off into the night to face Warwick is a dangerous idea. And it’s what he wants. Don’t give him that.”

Henry took a breath. “You’re right.”

Morgan smiled. “I know.” The man then kissed him on the cheek and said. “Now go meet with that rider.”

Henry finished putting his pants and shirt on and laughed. “Yes, Sir.” With that he turned around and walked out of his bedroom. He knew Morgan was right, but he was still angry. How dare Warwick do something like this. Especially now when the King had just recovered.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 37: Egremont’s Rise

July, 1455

​

Thomas threw the paper on the floor. “I cannot believe that father has agreed to this.”

“What?” Anne asked.

“The men we’ve been raising and training for a fight are to be put under Salisbury’s command should there be an invasion of Scotland.” Thomas said.

Anne’s eyes widened. “Is that likely do you think?”

Thomas shook his head. “I highly doubt it. James II is too busy crushing the Douglases to care about any war with us. Even if those ministers in the south keeping moaning about how he wants Roxburgh.”

“So, why would the men be put under Salisbury’s command?” Anne asked.

“Because he and that cunt son of his control the marches.” Thomas answered. He had long thought that an insult, given the work that Thomas and his father and brother put into keeping the border safe. Salisbury and his hell spawn barely bothered turning up.

“So, even if there is no war, they will still be subordinate to him?” Anne asked.

“Yes.” Thomas said.

“And do you truly think that Father could’ve gone against this?” Anne asked.

Thomas sighed. He knew what his wife was getting at. “No, not if he didn’t want to arouse suspicion.” After all, they had been raising men to prepare for a fight with Salisbury and Warwick, for unlike the King who was willing to let the matter drop, Thomas and his family were convinced that the Nevilles had had something to do with the attack on Thomas and his brothers during the celebrations for his now deceased daughter’s birth.

“And besides, if Salisbury and Warwick are behind the attacks, then it will be good to know just how they think.” Anne said. “That way you know what weaknesses to look out for and how to exploit them.”

“This is true.” Thomas agreed, wondering when his wife had become so capable.

“So, when will the men be placed under Salisbury’s command?” His wife asked.

“Likely at the end of the campaign season, in September. That’s when Salisbury is supposed to come to Alnwick to talk with Henry about defence arrangements.” Thomas said, that was what the letter that father had sent had said.

“Will Salisbury come directly from Scotland do you think?” Anne asked.

Thomas rubbed at his eyes. “I don’t know. It’s possible. But it’s also possible that he goes to London, tells the King what happened there and then rides north, with Warwick and whatever men Warwick has raised.”

“You mean those men Warwick has been mustering at his residence?” Anne asked. One of her relatives was a tenant of Warwick’s and thus had been able to feed them information about what that cunt was doing. It had been very useful.

“Yes.” Thomas said. “At last count he had some 2,000 men raised and prepared for fighting.”

“How many men do you have?” Anne asked.

“Six hundred. They are well trained and well prepared, but if there is to be a war it needs to happen quickly. Otherwise they will disperse back to their homes to bring in the harvest.” Thomas said, and truth be told he couldn’t blame them. He didn’t want a skirmish with Salisbury and his son. He wanted a full-on war.

“What do you think will happen?” Anne asked.

“There will be no war with Scotland, Salisbury will convince the King of that, the King will try and find some other use for the men that have been raised, and when that fails there will be war.” Thomas said.

“Truly?” Anne asked.

“Yes.” Thomas said. “Father has said before that the situation that exists between York and Somerset cannot last. Somerset is the King’s dearest cousin; York is his heir in case something happens to the Prince of Wales. Whilst Somerset’s son may be betrothed to York’s daughter, their grievances aren’t just going to disappear. Eventually York will do something that will anger the King, and pressed by the rivalry between Father and Salisbury, and York’s own overbearing power, the King will have to act.”

“But how will that get us to war?” Anne asked. Thomas looked at his wife and saw her frowning. Whether his wife wanted war or not, she definitely wanted revenge, just as much as he did for what the Nevilles had done to their daughter.

“Because I do not think that York will accept anything less than absolute control of the Council, and with the way the King has been acting since he recovered from his illness, he will not accept this. They will come to butt heads, and when that happens history shows us that war is the only solution.” Thomas said.

“Just like with Henry III and Simon de Montfort?” Anne asked.

“Exactly.” Thomas said.

“York has experience and wealth on his side though, and unlike de Montfort he is a capable commander. The King has no Prince Edward to come and rescue him should something happen as it did for King Henry at Lewes.” Anne said.

Once again, Thomas found himself surprised by his wife’s knowledge of events, he shouldn’t be though, she had shown time and again since he had truly gotten to know her, that she was smarter and cleverer than almost any woman he had ever known, apart from his mother. “True, but he has Somerset.”

Anne laughed. “You’ve said it yourself, Somerset isn’t great.”

“True. He has father though, and father is good. As is Buckingham.” Thomas said.

“And York has himself, Salisbury, Norfolk and who knows who else.” Anne said.

Thomas frowned. “Are you trying to say that York is better prepared or better equipped to deal with a war?”

“No, I’m just pointing out the differences in command structure that York has. The King has Father, he has Buckingham, he has Henry, he has you. But he also has Somerset and Clifford, two men not known for their tact or their skills.” Anne said.

Thomas sighed. “You’re right.” Of course, she was, figuring out how to ensure that those two weren’t going to be burdensome would no doubt be his task in the war that was to come.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 38: Scotland

August, 1455

​

James, second of that name, King of Scots, looked at the man who was stood before him. Richard Neville, Earl of Salisbury, Lord Chancellor to King Henry of England, he was an old man, his hair was greying, or appeared to be greying, he stood with a straight back, and in a confident manner. No doubt, the man thought him a mere child, and expected an easy ride. Given the way the man had been funding Douglas’ resistance in the borders, James could have had him seized the moment he entered Scotland. But he had decided against that. Despite what some of his courtiers thought, he didn’t want a war with England. Not yet anyway.

“Lord Salisbury.” James said. “Welcome to Scotland, we trust your journey here has been a comfortable one?”

Salisbury bowed his head. “Thank you for welcoming me, Sire. It has been an interesting journey.”

“Good.” James said. He knew that normal protocol dictated that they go around in circles before getting to the heart of the issue, but he was impatient to get this over and done with, therefore he continued. “Tell the court why you have come all this way, Lord Salisbury.”

If Salisbury was surprised by this break in etiquette, it didn’t show on his face. Instead he calmly replied. “I have been sent by His Grace King Henry to enquire about the purpose of the number of men that have been amassed on the border, by Your Grace.”

Playing coy, James asked. “Men? What men?”

“The men that were massed between Berwick and Annandale, Sire.” Salisbury replied.

“Did you happen to see these men as you ventured north?” James asked.

“No, Sire, but…” Salisbury said.

“Then how can you know that there are men massing on the border?” James interrupted.

“His Grace has received reports from Lord Ponyings and Lord Egremont saying that there were men massing on the border.” Salisbury said.

“And both are men who oppose you, are they not, Lord Salisbury?” James asked, he glanced at his Lord Chancellor, the Earl of Orkney, who nodded, that bit of information was correct then.

Salisbury shifted, but his facial expression didn’t change. “That has no bearing on the reason for why I am here, Sire. His Grace is concerned, and wished to receive confirmation from you that there is no intention for ill will, Sire.”

James took a breath. He wanted to retake Roxburgh, but he also knew that doing so now, when England was not yet divided would be foolish. He knew what he had to say, even if he disliked doing so. “Of course there is no desire for ill will, Lord Salisbury. There are no men massing on the border, and any men that have been seen have been tasked with controlling Douglas land.”

Salisbury nodded. “Of course, Sire.”

“You understand what it is like, there are discontented noblemen in the realm and they must be dealt with.” James said, seeing how Salisbury would react to that, given the whispers that they’d heard.

“Of course, Sire. I understand. His Grace will be happy to know that there is no cause for concern.” Salisbury said.

James nodded, glanced at Orkney again and then looked back at Salisbury. “There was one thing I wished to discuss with you though, Lord Salisbury.”

“Sire?” Salisbury asked.

“Our two Kingdoms have a long history of working together, and sorting out tiny issues through negotiation and compromise. Given the current situation, I wished to broach the topic of marriage.” James said.

“Marriage, Sire?” Salisbury asked.

“Yes, a way to show our commitment to one another.” James said, noticing how for the first time, Salisbury’s face was shifting. He looked mightily uncomfortable, though his tone was measured when he replied.

“What did Your Grace have in mind?”

“A marriage between my daughter Mary and the Prince of Wales.” James said. He was aware that the last time a Scottish Princess had wed an English Prince had been during the reign of Henry I, and even then, that had been done because that old blaggard had wanted the Saxon blood that ran through his wife’s veins. But given the situation England found herself in, he highly doubted that Henry could refuse.

Salisbury’s eyes widened, his tone was somewhat short when he replied. “I…. I will need to write to His Grace to enquire as to his view on the matter, Sire.”

“Of course.” James said. “Take your time. In the meanwhile, have a rest and then join us for dinner.”

Salisbury’s eyes widened again. Clearly he had not expected to be dismissed so soon. “Sire.” The man said, bowing low, before rising, turning and leaving.

Once Salisbury was gone, James looked at Orkney and asked. “What do you think he will do?”

William Sinclair, Earl of Orkney and Lord Chancellor took a moment to respond, the man looked as though he were carefully considering every syllable he uttered, which given his record was not a bad thing to do. Eventually, he replied. “I think he will send off a carefully worded letter to the King or to the Duke of York. Then the Duke of York will either reject the proposal out of hand or reply with several conditions attached on.”

“You don’t think Henry himself will reply?” James asked surprised.

“No, I don’t think York will let him. Everything coming out of London suggests that it is York, not King Henry who is in charge of things.” Orkney replied.

“That is not good at all.” James said.

“Indeed not, Sire. But it is the way of things in England now.” Orkney replied.

James nodded, he knew that the Douglases had tried to make him into a puppet and were he not still trying to hunt down Douglas, he’d offer to assist his fellow monarch in removing the shackles around him. But, Douglas remained the priority for now. He’d just have to hope England remained stable long enough for his daughter to become its Queen.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 39: Worrisome

September, 1455

​

“Why are you allowing Salisbury and Warwick to keep their men armed when it is clear there is going to be no war with Scotland?” Margaret demanded of her husband.

Henry didn’t stop what he was doing-putting a bit of that sauce from the east on his bread-when he replied. “Because I need to know what they’re going to do with them.”

“What do you mean?” Margaret asked, surely it was obvious what they were going to do with them? Use them to create chaos and havoc in the north, wage a private war against Northumberland.

“I need to know if what Sir Jack Dee has said is true. Is Salisbury planning on using his and his son’s men against Northumberland, and if so why. Northumberland has repeatedly assured me that he has no intentions of seeking violence against Salisbury, and has ordered his sons to disband their warbands.” Henry said.

“Do you believe him?” Margaret asked. Northumberland might be loyal to her husband, but he still hated Salisbury and she had learned very quickly that in England, men who hated one another would do whatever it took to get the upper hand on their enemy.

Henry frowned at her. “I have no reason not to. Northumberland’s sons have listened to him before. They did not retaliate after his sons were murdered by those vagabonds. They did not retaliate when York let Salisbury off for that letter. They have done as he has asked. I see no reason for why they should not listen to him now.”

“Because of how unfair it would be to demand they disband their men, when Salisbury and Warwick are allowed to keep their men.” Margaret pointed out, wondering how her husband could not see this.

“It may be unfair, but it is the only way that one can gauge their intentions.” Henry replied.

“That’s not true.” Margaret countered. “You could just order them to disband their men now and be done with it.”

Henry snorted. “You know I cannot.” The man bit into his bread as Margaret looked at him. Was he scared of Salisbury or was there something else at play?

“Why not, you are the King.” Margaret replied.

Henry sighed. “We both know that that has nothing to do with it. Salisbury and York think I am too tied to Northumberland and Somerset, that I have granted those two too many special favours. If I act to remove them from the board, they will complain and they may well take up arms against me. I cannot afford that.”

“So, your plan is to give Salisbury a special exemption and potentially alienate Northumberland in the process?” Margaret asked frustrated.

Henry laughed. “When you put it like that it doesn’t sound quite as grand a plan as I had imagined it to be.”

“Is that what it is?” Margaret asked, eyebrow raised. “A grand plan?”

“Well, I did intend it to be, yes.” Henry said.

Margaret would’ve hit her husband if he weren’t the King. “Henry, that is the most idiotic plan I’ve ever heard. You’re going to let Northumberland disband his armed bands, but allow Salisbury to keep his. That will look like favouritism when you’ve said you want to end such displays. Northumberland will get resentful, and rightfully so given all that Salisbury has done to him. Either Salisbury must disband his men as well, or Northumberland must be allowed to keep his, and you must hope that neither of them goes to war with the other.”

“Or, I could let Salisbury keep his men and see if he decides to aid the Bonvilles in their struggle against Devon.” Henry countered.

“What?” Margaret asked confused.

“Bonville is tied to the Neville and York party through a marriage of his daughter to Salisbury’s son. Salisbury can’t allow Devon to triumph in their feud, otherwise the lands that would serve as the girl’s dower would no longer be in his possession. Therefore, if Salisbury keeps his armed bands around, he will feel compelled to send them into Devon lands.” Henry said.

“Which would be a direct violation of the precedents set out in the previous century regarding this issue, thus giving you a reason to either imprison him or dismiss him.” Margaret said, realising exactly what her husband was saying.

“Exactly.” Henry said. “Salisbury is a clever man, he may not want to do that, but if things get too desperate for Bonville, which they will, he may well feel compelled to act.”

“And if he does act, what will you do?” Margaret asked.

“I will ensure that he faces the punishment that fits his transgression.” Henry answered.

“And what about York?” Margaret asked. “York won’t take this lying down.”

“If he has any sense he will. York does not need to go down for a crime that his brother in law has committed.” Henry said.

Margaret wanted to groan, how could Henry not see that York and Salisbury were a couple now, what one did, the other would follow? They could not be separated quite so easily. “York will argue that Salisbury is responsible for ensuring Scotland did not invade.” Everyone knew that was a lie, that King James would never have invaded anyway but still.

“York also knows that if Salisbury gets involved in Devon he will be breaking the law, and York will not break the law, regardless of what you or Edmund think.” Henry replied firmly.

“So, he remains, but Salisbury and Warwick will go?” Margaret asked.

“Yes.” Henry answered.

“I suppose that will have to do for now then.” Margaret said.

Henry put down his food and leaned forwards to kiss her on the lips. “For now, yes.”

Margaret sighed. “Fine.”

Henry laughed. “You could sound a bit more excited by this. We’re finally seeing some movement.”

“Assuming of course that Salisbury does as you think he will.” Margaret pointed out.

Henry pulled back then and sighed. “Naturally.” With that he went back to eating his food and Margaret was left to sit and contemplate whether they were doing the right thing.