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

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 60: Fusion

November, 1456

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“His Lordship the Duke of Buckingham.” The guard announced before moving to one side and allowing Humphrey to enter the King’s chamber. Humphrey strode in, holding two letters, one from York and another one from his friends in Wales. He stopped before the King’s table and bowed.

“Your Grace.”

“Be seated.” The King commanded, Humphrey sat down in a chair that one of the servants brought from somewhere, it had a hard back and caused him to wince slightly.

Humphrey looked at the King and saw the beginnings of a beard forming on the man’s chin, which was strange, he didn’t think he’d ever seen the King with a beard before. “What did you wish to speak about, Humphrey?” The King asked.

Humphrey placed the two letters on the table before him and said. “These two letters, Sire. One from York and the other from Wales.”

The King looked at him intently. “And? What are in these letters?” Humphrey hesitated unsure of which one to start with, the King answered that for him. “Start with York, let us see how he is handling Ireland.”

Humphrey nodded, and picked up York’s letter and handed it to the King. Humphrey waited for the King to finish reading before speaking. “As you can see, Sire, York was unable to prevent the King of Leinster from killing the Earl of Ormond. As such, Leinster should under the Statute of Kilkenny be declared an outlaw and should be executed at first sight. However, York has not sent anyone to get him and it is known that he is in Leinster.”

“York has not explained why he has not sent anyone to get him.” The King said frowning. “Why?”

“I do not know, Sire. I think it might have something to do with how powerful Leinster is, and the disgrace Ormond brought on himself.” Humphrey answered.

“Disgrace?” The King asked frowning.

“Ormond stole Leinster’s daughter and kept her as a mistress, he refused Leinster’s entreaties to return her or at least put her out of her misery. And instead, used her to in a public way in his estates.” Humphrey said, reciting what Dee had told him.

“How horrible!” The King exclaimed.

“Indeed, Sire.” Humphrey agreed.

“And what about Ormond’s brother? The man has not gone to Dublin to claim justice, nor has he sent anything here?” The King asked.

Humphrey bit back a sigh, Ormond’s brother was someone Humphrey had never met, but had heard things about. If he hadn’t gone to Dublin or come to London, then that could only mean one thing. “I think he may well have been involved, Sire.”

The King’s eyes widened. “You think he was involved in his brother’s murder?”

“Yes, Sire.” Humphrey said.

“Why?” The King demanded.

Humphrey shifted in his chair, unsure of how far to go with this, after all, he was only going off of rumour. “I believe John Butler is an ambitious man, Sire. Ambitious enough to want his brother removed, after all, it seems that he managed to convince his brother to ask the Earl of Kildare for a Fitzgerald as a wife, which is quite the achievement given the rivalry of the two families.”

The King frowned. “So, you think he worked with FitzGerald and Leinster to get his brother killed?”

“I think it is possible, after all Leinster had met with FitzGerald shortly before Ormond was killed.” Humphrey answered.

“And what about York? What is his role in all of this?” The King asked.

Humphrey sighed. “I do not know, Sire. It is possible that York is involved, it is also possible that he was caught off guard by all of this and is thus trying to rectify the problem in a manner that does not make it worse.”

“And that is why he hasn’t sent anyone to arrest Leinster?” The King asked.

“I think it is possible yes.” Humphrey said.

The King took a breath and then said. “Very well, we shall wait to see what he does, if he does not act within a month, then we shall take action.”

Humphrey nodded. “Very well, Sire.”

A pause and then the King asked. “And what came from Wales?”

Humphrey cleared his throat, the letter from Wales would be less easy to brush under to the side, and something the King would most definitely have to face. Consequently, Humphrey didn’t hand the letter to him, but rather picked up the second letter and said. “This letter came from my friends in Wales, Sire, as you know they are not in either Warwick or Dorset’s party and therefore the words they write can be trusted.”

“Go on.” The King commanded.

Humphrey took a breath then said. “They have learned that the Earl of Warwick is planning on arranging a meeting with the Earl of Dorset and several members of the Welsh nobility, and during this meeting an accident is meant to happen.”

“An accident?” The King asked.

“Yes, Sire.” Humphrey said. “The details are vague, but it seems that during the course of the meeting, Dorset is meant to suffer an accident that will leave him dead.”

“What?!” the King exclaimed.

“Exactly, Sire. I have ordered my friends to keep an eye on Warwick and to find out more.” Humphrey said. He paused, wondering how far to go and then deciding to tell the King everything. “I have also learned that Dorset is planning something similar.”

“For the love of all that is holy!” The King cursed. “Why are they doing this?”

Humphrey sighed. “Instructions from their fathers, Sire. It seems the rivalry is to extend into the new generation.”

The King banged his fist on the table. “I will not have it. I will not have them bring war to my Kingdom!”

“Sire?” Humphrey asked, wondering what the King would do.

“Send word to Salisbury and Somerset, tell them they are to come to Windsor for Christmas. We are going to speak with them and end this petty feud.” The King commanded.

“Sire.” Humphrey said, bowing. The King waved a hand dismissing him.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 61: Boundless

November, 1456

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Henry stared at the desk in front of him, wondering how he’d come to this point. Salisbury and Somerset’s feud was a surprise to him, he’d always imagined York and Somerset would be the ones to almost bring the Kingdom to war, but no, it was Salisbury doing the work this time. Henry supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, after all, his uncles had always told him that it required a strong King to bring people like Somerset and Salisbury into line, and Henry knew he wasn’t that. He was weak, he preferred praying to ruling and he preferred praying to anything else.

His father would’ve been able to control these people. His father would’ve been able to knock sense into them. Indeed, the victor of Agincourt, the heir to France, would never have allowed such things to ever have arisen. Not his son though. No, Henry was far too passive and weak. He’d allowed it all to fester, right under his nose. Well not anymore. He wasn’t going to let these fools get away with destroying his Kingdom anymore.

He looked up from the desk to his wife, Margaret, the only person he actually cared about alongside their son, and said. “There was word from Ireland.”

“Oh?” His wife asked, sounding hopeful.

“Ormond was murdered by the King of Leinster.” Henry said.

“What?!” Margaret exclaimed. “Has he been arrested?”

“No.” Henry said.

“Why not?” Margaret demanded. “He violated the agreement of Kilkenny, he should be sitting in a cell right now.”

Henry sighed. “The matter is more complicated than that.”

“How?” His wife demanded.

Henry took a breath, what Ormond had done wasn’t exactly something that a woman should have to hear about, but his wife wasn’t any normal woman, she was his wife, and more than an equal for any of the idiotic lords out there. Consequently, he took another breath and answered. “Ormond broke the traditions of Ireland by taking Leinster’s daughter as a mistress, and whilst traditionally if Leinster asked for her back, Ormond would have to hand her back, he refused to do so, and instead he used the girl as a mistress in public and took her decency from her, in public.”

Margaret’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “That’s…. that’s….”

“Disgusting.” Henry said.

“So, he was killed because of that?” Margaret asked, her eyes going back to their normal position.

“It would seem so.” Henry replied.

“And York?” Margaret asked. “Did he know about this?”

Henry sighed. “I believe so.”

“So, what are you going to do about him?” Margaret demanded.

“Nothing.” Henry said.

“Nothing?” Margaret replied sounding shocked. “Why?”

“Because York has not been found to have done anything wrong. I may believe he knew what Leinster was planning but until I find solid proof that he did indeed know I cannot touch him.” Henry said.

“So, he’s going to remain in Ireland? Potentially building up support?” Margaret asked.

“Yes.” Henry said. “And support for what?”

Margaret snorted. “You know what.”

Henry sighed. “I do not.” That was a lie he did, but he was in no mood to discuss that, not when the person who’d put the idea in his wife’s head was someone who was causing equal trouble. “But there was something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

“And?” Margaret asked.

“Somerset and Salisbury.” Henry said.

“What about them?” Margaret asked, though from the way his wife shifted, Henry got the feeling she knew what he was about to say.

“Both of them are using their sons to act out a feud.” Henry said. “Indeed, we have learned that they have both ordered their sons to ensure accidents happen to the other when they meet in Central Wales in the New Year.”

Margaret’s eyes widened again, which made Henry think that perhaps she wasn’t quite aware of what he’d just said, but then her tone was neutral which suggested she did. “Why?”

Henry took a breath in an attempt to calm himself. Why indeed. “Because they are both fools who wish to bring this Kingdom to its knees. I will not allow that.”

“What are you going to do?” Margaret asked.

“The only thing a King can do. I am going to meet with them both when we are at Windsor, next month, and I am going to tell them that they can either continue feuding and see their lands confiscated or they can stop and work together to ensure a brighter future for the Kingdom.” Henry said.

He expected a few reactions from his wife, what he didn’t expect was for her to laugh at him. Henry raised an eyebrow at her and eventually she stopped. “I am sorry, my love, but if you think Salisbury is going to stop just because you issue that threat, then you are naïve.”

Henry frowned. “What should I do then, according to you?”

“Arrest them both, present the charges before Parliament and then see what happens.” Margaret said.

“And you think Parliament will give way on this matter?” Henry asked. “The Commons is split between York’s supporters, and the rest. York’s supporters won’t vote to have his brother in law’s land taken.”

“You don’t know that. Present the evidence that you have and see what happens.” Margaret replied.

Henry considered this, he supposed his wife was right. After all, that was what Parliament was there for, and ensuring that any confiscations happened through an Act of Attainder would give them added legitimacy. Still, he was surprised his wife was so willing to go down this route, given Somerset would face the knife also. He looked at his wife and asked. “And the fact Somerset is going to be going through the same does not bother you?”

His wife surprised him by taking his hand in hers and kissing it, then looking at him and saying. “Somerset may have caused us far too much trouble for what he’s worth. If he must go down to ensure the safety of the Kingdom, then so be it. I would rather he go down, than someone else try and remove you from the throne.”

Surprised, Henry blinked and then said. “Very well, I shall be sure to deal with this business before we venture off to Windsor.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 62: Surfacing

November, 1456

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Alice was stood by the window, Richard felt something stir inside him. He’d not seen her in months, and he longed to hold her. He stopped just short of her and asked. “What are you doing here?”

Alice turned around and Richard was shocked by how white her hair was, how saggy her skin was, what had happened? “I’ve come to warn you.”

“Warn me?” Richard asked. “Warn me about what?”

“About the path you’re going down.” Alice said.

“Why?” Richard asked.

Alice sighed. “Because the path you are heading down will bring only blood and destruction and the end of our family.”

“What?!” Richard exclaimed. “How?”

Alice sighed again, this time the sound was brittle. “War is coming, Richard, a war that will consume England for generations. And this war will start with something that you do.”

“How?” Richard demanded. He wanted to know how so he could prepare.

Before Alice could answer, Richard heard a loud bang, he whirled around. “What was that?” The sound came again and this time when he turned back to face Alice, he screamed at what he saw. His wife had a sword through her throat and her skin was beginning to disintegrate, but he still heard her words.

“Be careful, my love, the path you tread is a dark one.” Richard stood there motionless as his wife disintegrated before his eyes.

Richard shot up, panting heavily, he blinked several times and then turned to his left, Alice wasn’t there, he turned to his right, Alice wasn’t there. It took him a moment to realise that Alice was in Middleham and that he’d been dreaming. He rubbed his eyes, God, that had seemed so real. He looked forwards as the floorboard creaked. “Who’s there?” He whispered.

There was no response, which prompted Richard to turn to his left and grab the dagger that he usually kept there, he gasped when his hands found only air. “Are you looking for this my lord?” A voice asked.

Richard turned back to face forwards and peered into the darkness, then blinked as a candle was lit and he found himself staring at a figure with slightly slumped shoulders, dark hair and a broken mouth. “Dee?!” Richard exclaimed once he’d gotten used to the new light. “What are you doing here?”

Dee kept a hold of the dagger and whispered. “I’ve come to warn you.”

“Warn me?” Richard asked. “Warn me of what?”

“A threat against your life.” Dee replied.

Remembering what Alice had said in his dream, Richard asked. “Who is threatening me?” Northumberland wouldn’t be quite so easy to catch and was far too obvious this had to be someone else.

“The Duke of Somerset.” Dee said. “He has convinced the Queen who has convinced the King that you are plotting to depose the King.”

“What?!” Richard exclaimed, wondering how Somerset could’ve learned his intentions and then figured it was a bluff. Somerset wasn’t that smart.

“It seems Somerset has used some faulty letters that claim that you commanded your son to have Lord Dorset assassinated, as proof of the first step of a longer plan.” Dee said.

How did he get a hand on those letters? Richard wondered to himself, as far as he knew the letter with his real instructions to his son had been passed on without a problem, consequently, it made him wonder how Somerset could have known. “He’s lying.” Richard said then.

“He maybe, my lord, but he’s convinced the Queen who has convinced the King.” Dee said.

“Well then I will simply convince the King that what he heard is not true.” Richard said.

Dee sighed. “I am afraid that won’t be possible, my lord.” Richard raised an eyebrow, and Dee continued. “The King has taken it into his head that the only way to prevent further chaos within the realm is to make an example of you. Consequently, he is going to order your arrest, you are then going to be tried by the Court of the Star Chamber and likely attainted and then beheaded for treason.”

“Treason?!” Richard exclaimed, his heart hammering away. “What treason?”

“Dorset’s assassination, and a multitude of other factors including keeping your men at arms when nobody else did.” Dee said.

Richard opened his mouth to protest, but then decided against it, and instead he asked. “Why are you telling me this?” Was Dee trying to get him to make a mistake?

Dee took a breath then replied. “Because I believe you are essential to the good running of the Kingdom. We may disagree on many things but you actually want the Kingdom to succeed, Somerset does not.”

Richard took a moment to digest what Dee had just said. The man believed him to be essential to the running of the Kingdom. That was nice to hear, and the fact that Dee had gone against the King to warn him of the upcoming arrest was also reassuring. But there was still some nagging doubt in the back of his head. “What’s in this for you?”

“My lord?” Dee asked, sounding surprised.

“You’ve told me this, what do you want in return?” Richard asked.

Dee snorted. “Nothing, my lord. I want only what is best for the Kingdom.”

Richard didn’t believe the man, but wasn’t going to argue with him, therefore he moved on and asked. “How much time do I have?”

“Six hours, my lord. The King intends to send men to arrest you just before midday.” Dee said.

Richard inhaled, midday, when the King usually attended prayers with his wife and son. How convenient. “Very well, thank you.”

Dee nodded, the candle went out and the floor creaked, then silence greeted him. Richard remained in bed a moment longer thinking about what he’d just been told. The King wanted him dead, Somerset wanted him dead, it was time to move forward with his own plan. Dickon needed to be King. There was no way around it. That was the only way to get things back to sanity again. He got out of bed and started grabbing his clothes. He needed to get a move on.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 63: Wander

December, 1456

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Margaret looked at her husband and then asked. “How did Salisbury escape?” The news had come earlier this morning as November had given way to December, they’d been woken by one of the guards who informed her husband that Salisbury wasn’t in his rooms. A search of the Palace had turned up empty.

“It seems someone warned him and gave him enough time to get his things together.” Henry answered.

“Who could have done that?” Margaret asked, as far as she knew the plan had involved only herself, Henry, Buckingham and Dee, and Buckingham and Dee would never betray the King.

“Someone who turned cloak.” Somerset said, the man had been invited in to see what he would do and how he would respond to the news that Salisbury had almost been arrested. So far he had the air of a man who had emerged victorious, it was somewhat infuriating, given what the plan had originally involved.

“Who?” Margaret demanded.

“I do not know of anyone who could’ve betrayed us from my network, Your Graces.” Dee said.

“Then it must have been someone who was tasked with the role of arresting him.” Somerset said.

Buckingham spoke then. “I will question the soldiers, if Your Grace wishes?”

“Do so.” Henry said, sounding distracted. Margaret took control of the conversation worried that Henry’s state might be deteriorating due to the pressure.

“Where will Salisbury go?” She asked. Middleham and his estates in the north made the most sense, but it was possible he might go somewhere else such as Wales, where his son was.

“I think he will try and get in touch with York.” Somerset said. “He will try and convince York that the time is right to strike.”

“How?” Margaret asked.

“He will argue that the attempt to arrest him was illegal.” Somerset said.

“But it wasn’t.” Margaret replied, she had spoken with Fortescue to ensure they were within the law, and the man had told them they were.

“He will argue that the judges have been turned and that no evidence was given beforehand to justify his arrest.” Somerset said, looking right at her in a manner that unnerved her slightly.

“I do not think he will do that.” Buckingham countered.

Margaret looked at the other man and asked. “What do you think he will do?”

“I think he will sit things out for the time being and wait for the New Year before formally returning to Court to request a trial.” Buckingham said.

“I don’t think Salisbury will wait for four months before returning to court.” Somerset said.

“So, then what are we to do?” Margaret asked looking at her husband who was looking at his fingernails.

“Wait and see what he does.” Buckingham suggested.

“Issue the writ for his arrest and his attainder. Draw him out of hiding.” Somerset said.

“That will be all, thank you.” Henry said then. Margaret raised an eyebrow at him in surprise, but he was not looking at her, instead he continued to examine his fingernails.

“Sire?” Somerset asked surprised.

Henry looked at Somerset then and Margaret saw a flicker of irritation in her husband’s expression, it was something small and something only she would see. “We have heard all that you have said, and we now request that you leave us for the time being.”

Somerset bowed his head and stood up as did Buckingham. “Sire.” Both men said, they bowed and then departed. Once they were gone, Henry looked at Dee and asked.

“Do you think they bought it?”

“I think they did, Sire.” Dee replied. “You played your role most magnificently.”

Margaret was confused, what was going on? “I’m sorry, but what was that?”

Henry looked at her then and said. “I knew Salisbury would flee, I sent Dee to warn him.”

“What?!” Margaret exclaimed. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to see what would happen.” Henry replied.

“What?” Margaret asked not understanding.

“I wanted to see whether Salisbury would actually flee or if he would hold his ground. He has fled, which has given me my answer about him.” Henry replied.

“And what is that?” Margaret asked though she thought she knew what he would say.

“That he is hiding something serious and that his intentions are not honourable. Sooner or later he will reveal his hand and I will finish him.” Henry said authoritatively.

“Will you do as Somerset suggested then and issue a writ for his arrest or an attainder?” Margaret asked, she didn’t think such a thing was a smart idea, it would risk antagonising others.

“No,” Henry replied. “I will wait for Salisbury to act and when he has made the mistake I am expecting him to make, I will act.”

“And what about Somerset?” Margaret asked.

Here, Henry smiled and his expression was terrifying. Margaret flinched back slightly. “Somerset’s time is coming.” Henry looked at Dee then and said. “Tell the Queen what you told me.”

Dee looked at her and Margaret noticed how his shoulders were upright now and how his mouth was set, not broken. Clearly his disguise had changed. “Lord Somerset was overheard telling his retainers to prepare for an onslaught on Salisbury’s men today, it seems that he had gotten it into his head to act as his own angel of vengeance.”

Margaret didn’t know what to say to that so she remained silent, Dee continued. “I also found letters in his study.”

“Letters?” Margaret asked wondering what those had to do with anything.

“Letters in which Somerset congratulates John Butler of becoming the new Earl of Ormond and reminding him to support the new motion being brought into the Irish Parliament in the new year.” Dee said.

“What new motion?” Margaret asked.

“That he be named in the line of succession, replacing York.” Henry said, his tone neutral.

“What?!” Margaret exclaimed. “That’s…. that’s….” she didn’t know what it was.

“It is treason and will be handled accordingly.” Henry said.

“How?” Margaret asked.

Henry stood up, prompting Margaret to do the same, he took her hand in his and said. “You need not worry about that, just know it will be done.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 64: Sandal Castle

December, 1456

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Edmund stared at the table and wondered for the eleventh time that day why they were here. Mother had said it was because they needed to come and visit the tenants of Wakefield, but Edmund was sure there was another reason. After all, Mother had made it clear to Father enough times that she didn’t like Sandal. Indeed, Edmund had overheard her saying she found the place grim and dreary, and far too similar to one of the castles that her father had owned.

Father wasn’t here though, he was in Ireland, spending Christmas with the Irish. Edmund was supposed to have gone there, but he’d fallen ill when his time for departing had come and Mother had refused to let him travel by ship to Dublin. Father had written to him to tell him that he’d come next year. Edmund hoped so, he wanted to see Ireland, he’d heard so many stories about it. And he definitely didn’t want to go to Westminster, it sounded horrible. Edmund was supposed to have attended a feast there earlier in the year, but had fallen ill before the scheduled time and the feast had been called off.

He exhaled. He was always falling ill before big things. He didn’t know why, if it was something in his constitution or otherwise. Mother didn’t think it was anything, but Edmund was worried. Ned never experienced anything like this, so, why did he? Was he defective in some way? He didn’t know and it was beginning to worry him. He didn’t want to be defective. Not when he was meant to get married soon. He took another breath and then blinked when he felt someone nudge him. He turned to his right and saw Ned looking at him.

“What?” Edmund whispered.

“Mother’s coming.” Ned whispered back.

Edmund immediately straightened, Mother didn’t like it when they weren’t paying attention at the table. They both bowed their heads as Mother came and sat down. “Children.” Mother said.

“Lady Mother.” They both replied.

Edmund looked at his Mother and found himself wondering why there were lines under her eyes, and why she looked more tired than he could remember ever seeing her being before. Had something happened? Or was she just missing Father more? Edmund wanted to ask but knew that doing so was massively impolite, so instead he kept his mouth shut.

Mother spoke then. “How are your lessons progressing?”

“Good, Lady Mother, thank you.” Edward replied answering for them both.

“What have you learned?” Mother asked.

Edward nudged Edmund and he answered. “We were learning about Ireland today.”

Edmund saw Mother’s eyebrows rise. “And what was it about Ireland that you learned?” She asked.

Edmund glanced at Edward, wondering whether it was appropriate for them to tell their mother about the battles between the Irish Kings during the reign of Henry Fitzempress or not. Edward nodded and so Edmund answered. “About the war between the King of Munster and the King of Leinster three hundred years ago.”

When Edmund said the word Leinster, Mother scowled, that made Edmund worry he’d said something wrong, he looked at Edward, and his brother shook his head, it wasn’t something he’d said. Mother spoke then, her tone normal. “And what did you learn about the two Kings?”

“Munster was an honourable man who worked hard for his people whilst Leinster was a rogue, a man only interested in his own petty grievances.” Edmund said.

Mother laughed. “How fitting.”

“Mother?” Edmund asked confused.

Mother waved a hand dismissively. “It is nothing, go on.”

Edmund looked at Edward who nodded and so Edmund looked back at Mother and continued. “The war was long and gruesome, and many people on both sides died, what made the whole thing even worse was that Munster and Leinster were cousins and had been close once when they were children. But greed and ambition had changed them both.”

Edmund saw Mother frown, and saw something like sadness creep into her eyes, that confused him even more. Why was Mother sad? “Go on.” Mother commanded.

“Eventually, the war cost both Munster and Leinster their lives, and when their successors ascended the throne, a peace was signed and the whole war was put aside, but the cost to both Kingdoms was staggering.” Edmund said.

Mother sighed. “Such is the way of war.” A pause and then suddenly she said. “Promise me something, both of you.”

“Mother?” Edmund asked, as did Edward.

“Promise me that you will never take up arms against one another, no matter what anyone else says.” Mother said.

Edmund shared a look with Edward wondering what had gotten into their mother, they both said. “We will never take up arms against one another.”

Mother nodded and smiled. “Good. That is good. Now, if you will excuse me, I must retire for the night. Do not stay up too late.” With that Mother rose and walked off, leaving Edmund and Edward at the table, completely confused.

Edmund turned to look at his brother and asked. “What was that about?”

Edward shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe something to do with what’s going on with Uncle Salisbury.”

Edmund frowned. “What’s happening with him?” Edmund had only met Uncle Salisbury a few times and each time he’d come away with the impression that his uncle was a dangerous man.

“I overheard Mother telling Sir Hastings that Uncle Salisbury was in danger and that they might need to work with him to protect Father.” Edward answered.

“From what?” Edmund asked, panic settling into his stomach.

“From the King.” Edward answered.

“Why?” Edmund asked. “Father has been nothing but loyal to the King.”

Edward shrugged. “I don’t know, but something is going terribly wrong at court.”

“What do you mean?” Edmund asked, worry beginning to coil in his stomach.

“I don’t know, I just keep hearing that things are going wrong for father there. Uncle Salisbury had to flee court because the King wanted to arrest him, and cousin Warwick is likely going to be recalled from Wales.” Edward said.

Edmund sighed. “Adults make no sense.”

Edward laughed. “Very true.” Edmund grinned and added.

“At least you make sense, most of the time.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 65: Welsh Dragons

January, 1457

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Henry looked at the men gathered in the room alongside him and bit back a sigh. They were the old men of Southern Wales. Men who really should be put out to pasture, but men he needed if he wanted to make the right impression and get them prepared and willing to carry out his father’s plan. His father. The man was starting to get on Henry’s nerves, with his constant demands of action and his constant changing of plans. It was like his brain was rotting or some such. Henry was tempted to write to his mother and inform her of his concerns about his father, but decided against doing so. Mother and Father were in a good place right now; he didn’t want to ruin that.

“Gentlemen.” Henry said, fixing his gaze on a spot just to the left of Sir Ranulph Mortimer. “I know that the nights are getting longer, but that is no cause for abandoning caution. The incident on the Severn Road was unacceptable.” Fifty men in plain clothes had attacked ten men who were under Warwick’s protection earlier in the week, and Warwick had learned of it and sent a letter to Henry complaining about it. Given the plan Henry had, he did not want to antagonise Warwick, yet.

“My apologies, my lord.” Mortimer said. Mortimer was distantly related to York, through some abstract relation from the first Earl of March, but otherwise had no affection for the man. He’d made that quite clear when Henry had asked him. “But, those travellers were in the wrong place.”

“How so?” Henry asked, eyebrows raised.

“The Severn Road is within my land, your lordship knows that, and they did not have the right permits.” Mortimer answered.

“You checked?” Henry asked.

“Of course I did!” Mortimer replied, sounding offended. “Their paper work was wrong, it was as if Warwick had sent them here because he knew that.”

“He likely did.” Owen Tudor said. Tudor’s presence here was surprising to Henry, Tudor had lost both his sons in service to the King and the last time Henry had seen him before now, had been at his sons’ funerals where he had gotten into an argument with Henry’s father. That he was here now, serving as one of Henry’s Welshmen was something.

“What do you mean?” Henry asked him.

“Your lordship knows that Warwick has been trying to create trouble for you for some time.” Tudor answered, Henry nodded and Tudor continued. “He no doubt intended to send those men with the wrong paper work to ensure they would be attacked by Sir Ranulph here, thus ensuring that he could cause a fuss and go to London with it.”

“But, he gave them the wrong paper work.” Mortimer said. “And if he did it deliberately then he will have no ground to stand on.”

Henry saw Tudor raise an eyebrow at him and immediately he understood what this was about. “He’s going to use the fact that I changed the paper work needed for the roads in Southern Wales as the reason for why this happened.” Henry wanted to hit himself, how could he not have suspected something like this would happen? He had been full of happiness and pleasure at how clever his amendments to the road regulations had been that he’d forgotten how cunning Warwick was.

“So, Warwick is using this as an excuse to get at you, my lord?” Mortimer asked slowly, as if trying to comprehend that Alexander the Great had refused to return home when given the chance and wanted to fight an army filled with giant elephants.

“Yes.” Henry said, he exhaled.

“We must retaliate.” Mortimer said at once.

“How?” Henry asked. “Warwick is in the right here.” Much as he hated to admit it, that was the truth.

“We can find a pretext, or something, surely?” Mortimer asked. “There must be something that Warwick has done that is wrong.”

Madog ap Owain, a member of a gentry family from Glamorgan spoke then. “He is encroaching on natural land, that is something that no English King has ever dared do.”

Natural land was made up of forests, streams and woodland that had formed part of Wales since time immemorial. It was nominally considered Crown Land, but was usually kept open and vacant for anyone to peruse but not use. If Warwick was encroaching on it, then he could get into serious trouble. “How much?” Henry asked.

“Two forests so far. All of it used to keep his men occupied.” Madog replied, the way in which he answered made it quite clear what he thought of that.

“Very well, we shall use this against him.” Henry said.

“How?” Mortimer asked.

“We’re going to remind him of what he’s doing in return for him keeping quiet about what happened.” Henry said.

Mortimer grumbled but acquiesced, Tudor spoke then. “And what of your meeting?”

“What of it?” Henry asked, he was meant to be meeting Warwick in a few weeks’ time to discuss how they were both progressing, but he had been warned Warwick meant to have him killed during said meeting.

“Are you still going to go, knowing what you know?” Tudor asked.

“Yes.” Henry answered. “To not go would be to raise suspicions.” And he was no coward, he wasn’t going to let Warwick scare him away from this.

“Then your guard is going to need to be increased significantly, and precautions are going to need to be created.” Tudor said.

“Then get to it.” Henry commanded.

Tudor’s eyes narrowed but he nodded all the same. “Yes, my lord.”

Henry pushed his chair back and stood up. “Now, unless there is anything more?” When nobody replied, he turned and walked out of the room, he kept going, turning once or twice before entering his own room, where Morgan was. He walked over to the man and kissed him and then murmured. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did.” Morgan murmured against his lips. “How did the meeting go?”

“Good enough.” Henry replied, kissing Morgan again and deciding for the time being to not think about anything.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 66: Raining Fire

January, 1457

​

Richard could hear the rain outside; it was thundering down and no doubt there would be all kinds of mess left behind. Dublin did not handle rain well; of that he was fully aware. He would need to order new drainage works to be done once winter ended, to try and do it before winter ended was madness, as all it would ever bring was more pain and illness. Plus, there were a great many things he had to otherwise.

He fiddled with the ribbon that his daughter Margaret had sent him for Christmas. This was the first Christmas that he’d not been with his family, having deigned it far too risky for them to make the journey to Dublin this time around. He had missed them terribly, but he knew it was the right thing to do. After all, his friends at court had told him of Salisbury’s flight and of Somerset’s supposed ascendancy. It would not do for his family to leave England just now.

Especially, when there were those in Ireland who seemed to be plotting against him. Richard looked at the two men who were gathered in his study. Thomas FitzGerald, Earl of Kildare and Nicholas Barnewall, Lord Chief Justice of Ireland. Both men had been summoned to discuss the news he’d received from a source in Southern Ireland. He cleared his throat and said. “The Earl of Ormond intends to introduce a new bill into Parliament when it meets next month.” Ormond, or rather John Butler was a much cleverer customer than his brother had been. He certainly knew what he was doing, or at least appeared to. “This bill will look to propose my removal from being the King’s heir after the Prince of Wales, and to replace me with the Duke of Somerset.”

There was a brief pause and then Kildare said. “It can’t pass.”

“Why?” Richard asked looking at the man.

“Ormond won’t have enough support in the Lords, and the Commons is yours, my lord.” Kildare said.

Richard snorted. “Clearly he believes he will find support, otherwise he would not have decided to make this proposition.” At least that was York’s understanding of the matter. He was always of the view that unless one had clear support for a measure, one should never try something, otherwise you risked being made to look a fool. And Richard despised being made to look like a fool.

“He could be bluffing.” Kildare replied.

“Bluffing?” Richard asked. “You think he would dare bluff about something like this?”

“Yes.” Kildare said.

“Why?” Richard demanded.

“Because he thinks he can get something out of you, my lord.” Kildare said.

“And what does he think he can get out of me?” Richard asked, though he had a rough idea of what it could be.

“The King of Leinster.” Kildare said. “Ormond has not pressed any claim to Leinster yet, no doubt because he believes that doing so would be an embarrassment to the Crown, but by introducing this bill, he is no doubt hoping you will give him his brother’s killer so that he can get justice.”

“Does he know Leinster was responsible for his brother’s death?” Richard asked, they’d not made it public and indeed, Leinster’s men had not worn Leinster’s colours whilst doing the deed.

“No, but I think he suspects it was Leinster.” Kildare answered.

Richard took a breath and then looked at Barnewall. “Can he be arrested?”

Barnewall shook his head. “Not unless His Grace were to issue a declaration stating that his proposition was treason.”

Richard sighed. “And it will take far too long for us to inform the King about this and then to get the King’s response.” That was the problem with being in Ireland, communication with the mainland took far too bloody long.

“Exactly, my lord.” Barnewall replied. “I think the best thing to do would be to offer the man who actually struck the killing blow.”

“Instead of Leinster?” Richard asked.

“Yes, under the laws which established the Lordship of Ireland, the local Kings are protected unless they directly go against the King, but their servants are not.” Barnewall said.

Richard thought on this, it would give them an out, but it may not pacify Ormond. “Will Ormond be satisfied by this?” He asked looking at Kildare.

Kildare shrugged. “I think so, any sane individual would be.”

Richard sighed. “Very well, send word to Leinster to deliver one of his household for judgement.” He wanted to get this business over and done with before it escalated into something even more problematic.

“Yes, my lord.” Kildare said.

Richard nodded, then said. “Now about Connaught’s law.” Connaught’s Law, a law proposed by the King of Connaught to reduce the amount of raiding that occurred on roads that traversed the borders between the Lordship and individual Kingdoms, it was a sensible law, but Richard worried that the Lords of the Irish Parliament would not agree to it due to their own prejudice. “How many people have said they will agree to it?”

It was Barnewall who answered then. “It will be a difficult one, my lord. Whilst the law itself is sensible, the prejudices of many against the native Kings is deep. Indeed, I know Edmund O’Burke plans on giving a long speech against the bill in a few weeks’ time.”

“And do they have any solutions then?” Richard asked. “Or will they just keep complaining about the trouble on the border roads?”

Barnewall snorted. “Likely the latter, my lord.”

“Then we had best force them into voting for it.” Richard said. “Unless they have another solution.”

“That may require loosening some of the purse strings, my lord.” Kildare said.

Richard frowned, he despised using bribes to get things done, but if that was required, then so be it. “Very well, I shall inform the treasury.”

“My lord.” Kildare replied bowing.

“Now, is there anything more?” Richard asked, when nobody else spoke, he got up and said. “Let us get going then, we all have a busy time ahead of us.” Richard turned and walked out of the room, wondering how long he would be in Ireland for after this.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 67: Meeting

February, 1457

​

“Lord Dorset.” Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick said as his cousin entered the room and took a seat.

“Lord Warwick.” Dorset acknowledged.

Richard took a breath and then said. “I trust you had a good Christmas and a relaxing interlude before the new year began?” He was buying time, waiting to see what the man would say and whether he would come out and say he knew about Richard’s plan, as Richard was planning on doing with him.

“I did, it was refreshing.” Dorset said. “And you?”

“About the same.” Richard replied.

Dorset nodded then asked. “Why did you ask me here?”

Straight to the point then. Richard thought to himself, he took a moment to reply, getting his thoughts in order, before continuing. “I thought it would be good for us to discuss how we’re both doing in our respective spheres in Wales, and whether there is anything we need assistance from the other for.”

Dorset’s eyes widened slightly as if he were completely surprised by this request, Richard hid a grin behind his cup of wine, this was going to be fun, he could sense it. “Very well, do you wish to go first?” Dorset asked.

“I will.” Richard agreed.

“Chirk is completely under my control as is Edeirnion.” Richard said. “Owestry has had its fair share of challenges but by and large the area is now coming under my control.” Indeed, if he’d gotten it right, the people of Owestry would be his most adherent followers, which if things were going to go in the direction his father thought they were, that could be very useful.

“The Owestrians did not mind the declarations that you issued?” Dorset asked, eyebrow raised.

“Those that did were allowed to voice their concerns and then they were handled.” Richard said simply.

“Handled?” Dorset asked.

“Their concerns were addressed in a manner that befitted them.” Richard said, not mentioning some of the blood that had been spilt.

“I see.” Dorset replied.

“And what of you?” Richard asked.

“Glamorgan and Avan Wallia have proven very easy to bring into line. Being based in Glamorgan has had its benefits.” Dorset answered.

“But?” Richard asked, there was a but coming he was sure of it.

“But Neath has proved difficult.” Dorset replied.

“How so?” Richard asked.

Dorset sighed. “Some of the gentry are very proud of their lineage and heritage and are refusing to bend on certain points which they consider matters of principle.” The way Dorset said those words made it sound like there was something more sinister lurking beneath the surface, but Richard wasn’t going to press. He didn’t care per say.

“And have you found a way to bring them around?” Richard asked, he assumed so, after all, the man hadn’t claimed failure.

“Yes.” Dorset said.

Richard wanted to ask how, but suspected he might not like the answer, so instead he asked. “And you are sure it will last long term?”

“It will not require military intervention, if that is what you are afraid of.” Dorset said, rubbing at his eyes.

Richard nodded. “Good, that is a relief.” He didn’t really fancy getting involved in a fight with a bunch of sheep lovers.

“So, now we have informed one another about what we have been doing, is there any other reason we must remain within this cavernous castle?” Dorset asked.

Richard laughed, Caernarvon, was the seat of the Prince of Wales, and given said Prince was but a child, it was being run by a castellan who had been chosen by Richard’s father with permission from the King. He’d chosen the place as the location for their meeting to prevent Dorset from trying anything funny, but also to show that he himself would not try anything funny. After all, he’d be an idiot to try and kill Dorset on Crown property. “Well, there was one thing I wanted to talk to you about.”

Dorset’s eyebrow shot up further, if such a thing were even possible. “And what was it that you wished to talk about?”

Richard knew he had to be careful now, one wrong step and everything could go up in the wind. He took a breath and then said. “An alliance between the two of us.”

“An alliance?” Dorset asked, frowning.

“Yes.” Richard said. “I see no reason why we must let the petty grievances of our fathers dictate what our own relationship is like.”

He could see Dorset considering what he’d just said, the man’s face was moving from thoughtful to concerned, back to thoughtful. “And what would such a thing look like?”

“We would work together out in England as we have done here. We would inform each other about our plans and purposes, we would work to undermine anyone who would threaten the peace of the realm.” Richard said, saying the words he’d practised beforehand.

“And you would be comfortable doing this?” Dorset asked. “It would not bring you into conflict with your father?”

“I am comfortable with it.” Richard said. “My father is a loose man; he is not someone who can be completely trusted.” That last part was a lie, but from the way Dorset smiled, he knew he’d got the man on his side.

“I agree. My father has also gotten very loose, I do not know what it is, but I think the time has come for them to be removed.” Dorset said.

I’ve got you right where I want you now. Richard thought to himself, aloud though he merely said. “I agree.”

Richard smiled. “Then it is sorted?”

Dorset nodded and extended his hand. “It is sorted.”

Richard took Dorset’s hand and shook it with his own, then he pulled back and said. “You will stay for a while longer, I hope, so we can commemorate our new alliance?”

Dorset shifted in his chair and then said. “I don’t see why not. I will need to rest a while though, I have been travelling for some time.”

“Of course.” Richard said. “I’ll have one of my men show you to a room.” Dorset nodded, rose, Richard rose too, and called for one of the guards. A tall, burly man appeared.

“Show Lord Dorset to the Lion’s Room.” Richard said, the man nodded and asked Dorset to follow him. Richard watched the two of them walk out of the room and disappear, then he took a deep breath and walked back to his desk, where he picked up a letter that had come from his father and whispered. “The game begins again.” This time, he intended to win.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 68: Rumble In The Jungle

February, 1457

​

John Butler stood before him, tall, with a scar above his right eye, a scar on his left cheek and a look as if to say he knew why he was there and he didn’t care. He was the complete opposite to what Richard had been expecting. Second sons are usually quiet, scared and lonely fellows, it’s the firstborns who are loud and brash and arrogant. But it seemed the Butlers produced two of the same. Richard took a breath and then spoke.

“Lord Ormond.”

“My lord.” Butler replied inclining his head.

“Thank you for coming, I would offer you a seat, but this is not going to take very long.” Richard explained.

“My lord.” Butler answered.

Richard took another breath and then cut right to the chase. “The law you are planning on introducing into Parliament when it meets tomorrow, why are you doing it?”

If Butler is surprised that Richard knows about this, it does not show on his face, which remains expressionless. His tone is the same. “Because I wanted to get your attention.”

“Well you have it now.” Richard said. “What do you want?”

“My brother’s murderer.” Butler answered.

Richard bit back a sigh, he had hoped that there would be something deeper than this, but Kildare and Barnewall were right, this was all that Butler wanted. “And if I hand you the man who murdered your brother?”

Butler smiled. “Then I will withdraw the proposal.” A pause and then. “It was never a serious proposal anyway. I merely wanted to get your attention.”

Richard considered this. He knew that he couldn’t hand Leinster to Butler, that would-be madness, but giving him the man that Leinster claimed had struck the actual killing blow should be enough. Especially as it appeared that Butler didn’t actually know who had done the deed. “Very well, the man shall be presented to you within the hour.”

Butler nodded and then asked. “Was there anything else, my lord?”

Richard was tempted to say no and to dismiss Butler, but then decided that since the man was here, he might as well get some information from him. “Has Lord Somerset ever contacted you?”

“My lord?” Butler asked surprised.

“Has Lord Somerset ever contacted you?” Richard asked.

Butler shifted from side to side, and Richard got the distinct impression that the man was trying to think up an adequate lie. He was surprised when Butler said. “Yes, my lord, he has.”

“When and how often?” Richard asked.

“About a week before my brother died was when he started, and he sent four other letters since then.” Butler answered.

“And what would he say in these letters?” Richard asked.

Butler shifted again and tugged at his shirt collar. “He said that if I were to make a suggestion before the Lords about the succession he could give me information about a plot against my family.”

“And this was in the first letter?” Richard asked.

“Yes.” Butler answered. “Given that a week later, my brother was murdered, I was suspicious, so I wrote back to him.”

“And what did you say?” Richard asked.

“I told him that my brother had been murdered and asked him if that was the plot he was referring to. I also told him that any suggestion about changing the succession without sufficient evidence to back it up would land me in prison.” Butler said. “I was not willing to go to prison.”

“And how did he answer?” Richard asked intrigued.

Butler tugged at his collar again. “He said that there was a wider plot against my family, and that unless I did what he asked he could not guarantee that we would be safe.”

“But he did not say whether he would offer you protection?” Richard asked.

“Not unless I did as I was bid, my lord.” Butler said.

Somerset never able to follow through. Richard thought with barely contained glee, this was going to be a deciding factor in having him removed. “So, you decided to make this proposal and make it known, did you tell Somerset that you were going to do this?”

Butler opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “I was going to write to him to tell him, but then I received my lordship’s invitation and decided not to.”

“Why?” Richard asked though he knew why.

Butler shifted again and then said. “Because I wished to see what you had to say, my lord. I hoped you would offer me what I wanted, and you have. Therefore, I see no reason to write to Somerset.”

“No.” Richard said, holding up a hand. “You will write to him.”

“My lord?” Butler asked.

“You will write to him, tell him that you met with me but that I did not give you what you wanted, and that you are therefore proceeding with what he has asked of you. In return for doing that, you want the names of the people involved in the conspiracy against your family.” Richard said. He would never let Butler see the names, he’d have his men search the post first.

“Are you sure, my lord?” Butler asked, his eyes wide.

“I am.” Richard said.

“And if Lord Somerset suspects something?” Butler asked.

“Do not worry, he will not harm you here.” Richard said, Somerset had no men in Ireland.

Butler took a breath then replied. “Then I will do as you ask, my lord.”

“Good.” Richard said. “Make sure to mention just how dissatisfied you are with your meeting with me.” That would stoke Somerset’s ego.

“My lord.” Butler replied.

“Now unless there was anything else?” Richard asked.

There was a brief pause, and then Butler said. “Only that I am glad you are here, my lord. It is nice to have someone competent at the helm.” Butler bowed, then turned and left.

Once he was gone, Richard was left alone to sit and think. Somerset was trying to outmanoeuvre him but as always the man had left a gap in his defences. He was no political genius, and that would be his downfall. Richard would make sure of it.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 69: Scotland’s Will To Take

March, 1457

​

“Lord Graham has told me that James is progressing well in his studies.” James said, referring to the man who taught their son and heir.

“Yes, it seems he’s gotten a good grasp over counting and sentences now.” Mary agreed.

“And the girls are doing well as well.” James said. That didn’t surprise him, Mary and Margaret were very clever, and always had been, despite being only four.

“Indeed.” Mary agreed.

“But there was something that I wanted to talk to you about, regarding James.” James said.

“Is this to do with the bug?” Mary asked.

“Yes.” James said.

Mary sighed. “You know he said it was an accident.”

“I know but it is still worrying.” James said.

“He’s not done it since.” Mary replied.

“He should never have done it at all.” James countered, when his wife sighed again, James continued. “He picked a bug apart right before Alexander’s eyes, Mary. That’s not normal behaviour!”

Mary sighed again. “I know.” A pause and then. “But he’s not done it since, and Alexander’s shown no signs of being impacted by what he saw.”

James took a breath, he could understand his wife’s desire to protect their eldest son, he was only a child after all, but what he’d done to that bug concerned James, massively. It did not show a positive sign for the future, if that was what his heir was doing now. And God alone knew what impact it would have on Alexander, that boy had only just started talking properly.

As if sensing his disquiet, Mary spoke and changed the topic. “I received a letter from the Queen of England the other day.”

James raised an eyebrow at that. “What did she say?”

“She wanted to know a little bit more about Mary, her likes, her dislikes, that sort of thing.” Mary answered.

“The girl’s three years’ old, her likes and dislikes aren’t that complicated.” James said, his daughter liked the new type of biscuit coming out of Aberdeen-shortbread it was called- and she disliked having to go to bed early.

“I know, but it is a good sign that the Queen wanted to know more.” Mary replied. “It shows that she’s being serious about the marriage.”

“One would hope she is.” James replied. “After all, I am not going to hand over that dowry unless they show they are.”

Mary smiled. “What about the King? Has he written to you at all?”

James snorted. “I doubt the King even remembers that there is a betrothal between our children.” What he’d heard of the King suggested he was either incredibly absentminded or he was incredibly single minded.

“What do you mean?” Mary asked.

“My friends in London have reported that the King spends most of his time talking about Somerset and York, or about Salisbury and Northumberland. He’s never mentioned us once, since he took control of the government again.” James said.

“Northumberland?” Mary asked. “Do you think he knows about what Angus is doing?”

James snorted. “No. They have been careful not to get involved with anyone who might talk.” The last supplier Angus had used had threatened to talk so James had had him killed.

“And do you think things within England are going to be secure enough to enable our daughter to marry the Prince of Wales?” Mary asked.

James wondered just what exactly his wife had heard, he knew some of her ladies had a propensity for gossiping, especially the Lady Lyon, who was sleeping with an English knight, she was the biggest gossip of all. “What have you heard?” He asked, deciding it would be safer to answer once he knew what to expect than to answer blind.

“That Somerset is trying to get himself named heir, and that York might face being arrested for working with Salisbury on a plot to undermine the King.” Mary answered.

“The former is right; the latter is not.” James answered. “Somerset is desperate to be named as heir.”

“Why?” Mary asked. “Isn’t his line already out of the succession due to being from an illegitimate branch?”

“Yes.” James said, he didn’t mention that his mother came from the same branch. “But, there are arguments over whether their removal from the succession was entirely legitimate.”

“Why?” Mary asked.

“Because Henry IV removed them from the succession without getting Parliament to agree to it. And I believe that is seen as consequential.” James replied.

“Ah.” Mary said. “So, what do you think will happen?”

James shrugged. “I do not know. It could go either way.” Frankly he wished England would just quieten down for a period, he wanted to look northwards, and not southwards. There were more interesting things happening in the north after all.

Mary seemed to sense this for she asked. “What word has Lord Caithness brought?”

“Denmark is willing to agree to a betrothal between our son and Margaret of Denmark. They will pay a large dowry and in return ask that we get the Isles to stop raiding northwards.” James answered. It was a reasonable demand after all, the Islanders were only raiding on his say so.

“Will you agree to it?” Mary asked.

“I think I will, though I will add in a condition.” James said.

“And what condition is that?” Mary asked.

“That if they are unable to pay the dowry in full, that they will hand over Shetland and Orkney.” James said.

“Do you think they will agree to that?” Mary asked.

“If they have any sense they will. Our fleet is developing by the day and our army is strong. They will not want to have a threat on their border.” James said.

Mary frowned at that, James knew she didn’t approve of threats of violence to get things done, but she said nothing to that, only. “If you think it is a sensible strategy.”

“I do.” James said.

Mary nodded. “Then I will stand by you.”

James smiled. “Thank you.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 70: What Will Be, Will Be

March, 1457

​

“Salisbury has not yet left Middleham.” Humphrey said, keeping his gaze firmly on the King. His men had kept a close eye on the Lord Chancellor and had reported that the man had not set one foot outside his castle since returning there from Sandal Castle. What he was doing and who he was talking with, Humphrey did not know. His men had not been able to find out.

“And you do not know what he is doing?” The King asked, his beard having grown out and taken on a darkish hue.

Humphrey shook his head. “Unfortunately not, Sire. My men have not been able to infiltrate his household as effectively as I would have liked.” Indeed, the closest he had come was to get one of his son’s squires-a minor one- in as a servant boy for the cook.

The King sighed. “No matter, we shall have to see what Salisbury does, he is a man of action and such men do not like doing nothing.”

“I think you should act, Your Grace.” The Duke of Norfolk said.

“Act?” The King asked, looking at Norfolk.

“Yes, Sire.” Norfolk replied. “Force Salisbury’s hand, get him to come out.”

Humphrey spoke then. “I think that would be a bad idea, Sire.” Norfolk snorted, but Humphrey pushed on. “Salisbury is powerful, his feud with Northumberland is destabilising, but he must be seen to be making the first error, not you, Your Grace. He has many powerful friends in Parliament should Your Grace make the wrong move they will protect him. If he makes the wrong move, they will abandon him.”

Norfolk snorted and Humphrey looked at him, the man was staring at him with his eyebrow raised. “So, the King should just sit on his hands and wait, not knowing when Salisbury will make a mistake, all the while allowing his friends and allies to make things difficult?”

Humphrey sighed. “His Grace should do what His Grace thinks is best, I am only making a suggestion.”

Norfolk snorted, but the King spoke then. “We shall do as you suggest, Humphrey.” There was a pause there as they all considered this, then the King continued. “And what of Somerset?”

Humphrey sighed the man was his son’s father in law and had been a friend, but his recent actions had proven to be incredibly erratic and damaging. “Somerset continues to feign no knowledge of his letters in Ireland or why Ormond would make the proposal that he did in the Irish Parliament.” York had written an angry letter about that and demanded to know why Ormond was doing it, he had claimed Ormond was in cahoots with Somerset, but Somerset had feigned ignorance.

“He does not know that we know about his letters?” The King asked.

“No, Sire, he does not.” Humphrey replied, he’d been very careful to ensure that no trace was left behind of what he or his men or Dee had done.

The King sighed. “Ideally I would have him arrested, but he too has support in the Lords and that in itself presents a problem.”

“Sire?” Norfolk asked.

The King took a breath and then said. “I arrest Somerset without presenting a proper trail of proof, his supporters like Shrewsbury and Lisle and Devon will all argue that I am playing favourites. That I should be doing the same to Salisbury, it will cause a wrench within the Kingdom and I cannot allow that.”

“I will find what more evidence I can, Sire.” Humphrey said. The difficulty was that Somerset was very good at covering up his own involvement, but was bad at preventing the trail suggesting it was him who was involved. The only exception had been those letters to Ormond.

“You could act quicker if you actually worked properly with Dee, you know.” Norfolk said.

Humphrey sighed. “Dee is a good man, and a clever spy, but I do not trust him.”

“That means he’s doing his job.” Norfolk exclaimed.

“Why do you not trust him?” The King asked.

Humphrey took a breath, trying to figure out how to explain what he felt whenever he worked with Dee. It was a mixture of revulsion, suspicion and outright anger. Something about the man truly rankled him. But he didn’t want to seem petty, consequently, he took a breath and said. “I find him to be someone whose motives I cannot fathom and that makes it hard for me to know where I stand, and where the Kingdom stands.”

The King sighed. “I understand where you are coming from, Humphrey, I truly do, but right now he is the best man for the role and thus he must stay.”

“Sire.” Humphrey replied, bowing his head. He knew Dee was good at what he did, and he would never ask the King to replace him, not now anyway.

“That just leaves the remaining feuds.” The King said.

“Devon and Bonville are coming to blows again. I believe Devon burned one of the villages owned by Bonville, Sire.” Norfolk said. “And Lisle and Berkeley came to blows once again, with one of Berkeley’s sons dying during the struggle.”

“Heaven’s above!” Humphrey exclaimed.

The King sighed. “This is getting out of hand.”

“If I may make a suggestion, Sire.” Humphrey said, his mind whirring.

“Go on.” The King commanded.

“I think the best way to handle this would be to dissolve Parliament and call a Great Council.” Humphrey said.

“Why?” The King asked.

Humphrey took a breath and then replied. “Parliament is too divided, there are factions upon factions, its main purpose has been forgotten. Your Grace has commented before about how difficult it is to get anything done there.” Indeed, the King had considered dissolving Parliament last month after talks over a new excise tax had stalled. “But, a Great Council is meant to ensure that those feuds fade away. The petty mindedness of the Commons is gone and the possibly more level thinking of the Lords is all that is there. Without the mob, more things can be discussed.”

“And do you think that will hold true now?” The King asked.

“I think so.” Humphrey said, he hoped it did anyway, otherwise they were all doomed.

“Norfolk, what do you think?” The King asked.

Norfolk said nothing for a period of time and then he sighed and said. “I agree with Buckingham, Sire. I think the only way to get a calm redress is through the Great Council.”

The King nodded. “Very well, we shall consider what you have said, thank you.” The King waved a hand indicating that they should both go, Humphrey did as he was bid as did Norfolk and they got up and walked out of the room. Once they were out of the room, Norfolk whispered.

“I told you, the King would consider you more than the others.”

Humphrey laughed. “If only it had not come like this.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Little tree

for you all

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 71: Dissolution

March, 1457

​

“His Most Serene Grace, Henry, King of England and France, Lord of Ireland.” The Herald announced as the doors were opened and Henry walked into the Painted Chamber. He noted the lords that were seated and those who were standing, as well as the members of the Commons who were stood on either side of the chamber. Henry felt the weight of the cloak around his shoulders and of the crown atop his head as he walked. It seemed as though they were crushing him, but he knew he had to wear them. They were important symbols of state after all.

As he got to the throne, Henry turned around and sat down, taking care not to sit completely on his cloak. He gestured for everyone to be seated and then as clearly as he could he said. “My lords, and honourable gentlemen, I thank you all for coming to this joint session. Parliament has been in service for some time now and much has been achieved. For that I thank you. We are pleased to see that the roads are improved and that there has been a return to stability and that free trade has resumed following the disruption following the chaos four years ago.”

Henry took a breath, the chaos from four years ago, where Gascony had fallen and he had lost Edmund and Jasper. Two holes in his heart that would never heal. He continued. “However, we have noticed that there are great feuds entering into Parliament. The feuds of some individuals are tainting the work of this most august of Parliaments.” He saw Somerset grin at someone, and felt a flash of anger. “Consequently, we feel that the petty feuds of some of these individuals must be resolved before they tear the Kingdom in two.”

He looked around the room, he spotted the Earl of Shrewsbury whispering something to his brother, and also noticed that the Earl of Oxford and the Earl of Northumberland were muttering something to one another. He ignored them and continued. “Therefore, we have decided that we must bring this Parliament to an end.” The muttering started then, like an annoying buzz in his ears. “We have considered every option and we find that Parliament must be dissolved and a Great Council called so that those who are feuding may bring their concerns before their peers and so that the passions of these individuals do not ruin Parliament’s good name.”

“You cannot do this!” Someone shouted as the muttering turned into an angry roar.

Henry spoke over it. “It is our understanding that Parliament may be dissolved should such concerns as we do have, arise, consequently, we have decided to do just that.” He clapped his hands and the hall fell silent again. “We ask that the Lord Privy Seal present the seal that called this Parliament.”

Laurence Booth, Bishop of Durham stepped forward, Booth was hunched slightly. Which meant that as he bent down to kneel before Henry, his nose almost touched the floor. “The seal, Sire.” Booth said as he held his hands aloft.

Henry looked at one of the guards who took the seal from Booth and handed it to him. Henry looked at the seal and the document it was attached to and then tore it in two. “With this act we declare Parliament dissolved.” He stood up then and handed the torn fragments to the same soldier who had handed the seal to him. “We shall see you all in two months in Birmingham.” With that Henry walked down the steps from the throne and made his way back to the doors of the Painted Chamber.

As he did so, he heard someone yell out. “How can you do this?!”

He heard someone else yell out. “Is this the work of that French whore?!”

Henry was just about able to control himself, he would not cause a scene, instead he nodded to those who had stood up and kept quiet, Buckingham, Norfolk, William Neville, and Lord Beauchamp amongst them. The moment he was out of the Painted Chamber, Henry took a large breath of air, then turned to his right and made his way back to his own chambers. He couldn’t wait to get this damned cloak and crown off. They were killing him.

However, Henry could not get any peace, for just as he was about to cross the threshold into private quarters of the Royal Family, someone pushed into him. He turned and found himself staring at Lord Somerset. “Forgive me, Your Majesty.” Somerset said.

Henry noticed the unusual styling Somerset had used, but he did not comment on it, instead he asked. “What do you want, cousin?”

“Merely to say that I think you have made the right choice by dissolving Parliament, Sire.” Somerset said.

“It was the only way.” Henry answered, thinking about what Buckingham had said last week about Somerset and wondering how he’d not seen this in him before.

Somerset nodded and then asked. “But one thing I must ask, Sire, is, do you think it is wise to keep the Great Council from meeting until May?”

“May gives everyone enough time to prepare and come with their grievances.” Henry answered without thinking, nodding to one of the guards as they opened the door into the private chambers of the Royal Family. Somerset didn’t let up though.

“I understand that, Sire, but I fear it might encourage certain elements that are not favourable to Your Majesty to act out.” Somerset replied.

Henry noted the second use of the unusual styling, and asked. “What do you mean act out?”

“I have received word that York is going to return to England with Irish men, perhaps 1000 of them and plans on merging them with Salisbury’s men to sow chaos and division in northern England.” Somerset said.

Henry stopped and looked at Somerset. “If he does that he will be attainted as a traitor. Now unless there is anything else, I have other things to get to.”

Somerset bowed. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

Henry nodded and walked into his private chambers, he entered his room and took off the cloak and the crown and then sat on the bed. He took a deep breath and then muttered. “I should just have you murdered.” That would solve one issue surely?

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 72: Ireland Once More

April, 1457

​

The King has called for a Great Council to be held in Birmingham in May, to address the feuds that have plagued his reign. I fear that this may the time when Somerset and his allies strike.

You are aware of what caused me to flee, Somerset making baseless accusations that the King believed.

I know that you did not like what I had to say before, but now the time has come for you to act, dearest brother in law.

Somerset must fall.

If you come to Birmingham, come with arms, otherwise it will be your death that Somerset organises.

Salisbury

Richard put down the letter then looked at the two men who were in the solar with him. Thomas FitzGerald, Earl of Kildare, and Nicholas Barnewall and said. “It seems that Somerset has finally decided to act.”

“My lord?” Kildare asked.

Richard picked up the letter and handed it to him. He watched as the man read through it and passed it on to Barnewall who also read it and then put it down on the table. “As you can see, the King has called for a Great Council to be held in Birmingham, to address the feuds that have divided the Kingdom for the past few years.” At least the King was acting, but whether he was acting in time or not, Richard did not know.

“And you think this is Somerset’s work, my lord?” Kildare asked.

“My brother in law certainly seems to think so.” Richard said, though whether he agreed with Salisbury he didn’t know, the words the man had said before Richard had left for Ireland rang through his head now.

“And what do you think, my lord?” Barnewall asked.

Richard sighed. “I do not know. The word from London certainly suggests that Somerset is in the ascendant and of course we have what Ormond has told us.” Ormond, Richard didn’t trust the man, he may have done as Richard had asked, but there was something about him that reeked of snake. That the proposal he had put forward had been overwhelmingly defeated, had only just reassured him.

“But Ormond could be lying.” Kildare pointed out.

“What would he have to gain by lying?” Richard asked. He knew Kildare didn’t like Ormond, but the man wasn’t going to betray Richard, not when Richard could end him.

Kildare could not answer that, but Barnewall spoke. “Somerset may be behind the King’s decision, or the King may finally have decided to take matters into his own hands. Consequently, I think you should welcome this decision, my lord.”

“How so?” Richard asked.

“You have a list of grievances against Somerset going right back to when France was within His Grace’s grasp. Somerset has tried to commit open treason through Ormond, these two issues are things you can bring up in the Great Council without worrying about Somerset’s mob in the Commons.” Barnewall pointed out.

Richard considered this, the Great Council would be where serious debate could be held, where the idiocy of the Commons was removed and Richard would be amongst his peers. He could use proper arguments to present the case for why Somerset needed to be removed and why his supporters needed to be removed also. It was an opportunity, perhaps the best one he could have. “So, you think I should go to this Great Council?”

“Yes, not only do I think you should attend, my lord, I think not to attend would be the height of treachery.” Barnewall said.

“Treachery?” Richard asked amused.

“Yes, my lord. England needs a stable hand; Somerset must go for that to happen.” Barnewall said.

“Very well.” Richard said making up his mind there and then. “I shall go, but I shall not go alone.”

It would be madness to go to this council without bringing support, especially if his enemies came with armed support.

“Of course, my lord.” Kildare said. “If I may make a suggestion?”

“Go ahead.” Richard commanded.

“I can give you 200 men commanded by my cousin Angus. They are fierce fighters and will stand you well should things get testy.” Kildare said.

Richard considered this, he appreciated what Kildare was offering, but he also knew that bringing so many Irishmen to England, especially Birmingham would not look good. Therefore, he cautiously replied. “I thank you for the offer, Thomas, but I think 100 of your men should be enough. I shall be taking 100 of my own men as well. And 50 men from Dublin.”

Kildare looked as if he wanted to protest, but instead he simply asked. “When will you depart, my lord?”

“I shall inform my men about what is happening, tell them to prepare and then we shall depart. So roughly a week’s time. How long will it take for your men to come here?” Richard asked, he did not think Kildare would send the men he had with him here, to accompany Richard.

“They can be here in a week, my lord.” Kildare answered. “Maybe four days at a push.”

“Four days.” Richard said.

Kildare bowed his head. “My lord.”

Barnewall spoke then. “Might I ask who you will leave in charge of Ireland whilst you are gone, my lord?”

Richard looked at Barnewall and said. “You two gentlemen.”

“My lord?” Barnewall asked surprised.

Richard smiled. “You have both served me well, and know the policies which I follow. I can think of no two better men to carry on this work whilst I attend to matters in London.”

Barnewall looked as if he might protest, but stopped when Kildare spoke. “We are both honoured, thank you, my lord.”

Richard nodded and added. “Just ensure you keep a close eye on Ormond.” God alone knew what that man might do.

“My lord.” Kildare replied.

“One other thing.” Richard said, the thought coming to him then.

“My lord?” Barnewall asked.

“Keep an eye on Leinster as well. He may have handed his man over willingly, but I do not know what else he has planned.” Richard said, Leinster was someone he was quickly coming to regret trusting.

“My lord.” Both men answered.

Richard nodded and then waved a hand to dismiss them. He watched them both rise, nod and then depart. Once they were gone, he picked up his brother in law’s letter and sighed. Things were going to get a lot more complicated. He could feel it.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 73: Henceforth

April, 1457

​

It was supposed to be approaching summer and yet it was still damnably cold. Henry was wearing a heavy cloak on top of his shirt and he was still fighting back shivers. He knew that some of his men had fallen terribly ill during the march from Northern Wales, and he was beginning to wonder if it was at all worth it. His father would say it was. The chance to finally bring down York and Salisbury at the Great Council was something his father had insisted was worthwhile in the letters he’d written to Henry.

As such, Henry had brought four hundred men with him from Wales, they included his own retainers as well as men given to him by the Welsh lords he had won over during his time there. He looked up from the fire when someone spoke. “How much further?” That was Madog ap Llewelyn, the cousin of Madog ap Owain, and a captain in the band that Henry had brought.

“Another day at least.” Henry answered. They were marching to Birmingham for the Great Council and they were also racing against time to get there before Warwick did.

“Is it going to be this bloody cold there?” Madog ap Llewelyn asked.

“No.” Henry said. “Birmingham is warmer, being nearer to London.” How that worked he didn’t know but it was something his tutor had told him once as a child and he stuck by it.

Llewelyn snorted. “It bloody better be.”

His cousin, Madog ap Owain spoke then, his tone harsh. “Warwick will bring a similar amount of men as you. How do you plan on offsetting that?”

Henry frowned, given the agreement he had made with Warwick he had felt honour bound to inform him of the Great Council and that he was taking some men-he’d not said how many-that had of course backfired because Warwick had guessed correctly about what might happen or what was planned and brought more men than Henry had told him to bring. “We will be there under the King’s orders; Warwick is not so foolish as to cause a fight.” He hoped not anyway.

“And what of his father?” Madog asked. “You said his father was the one behind all of this?”

Henry sighed, the this that Madog referred to was the need for a Great Council at all, the sense of unease and tension that had rolled through Wales after the attack on those travellers and a whole lot more. “His father is someone that I hope the King will be able to keep in check.”

That drew a snort from a figure to Henry’s left. He looked at the man and saw Owen Tudor shaking his head. “None of this would be happening if the King had been able to do that from the start.”

Henry frowned. “What are you talking about?” He asked the man.

Tudor sighed. “The King has had an entire reign to see what Salisbury is, and he has done nothing.”

“Salisbury has only just started showing his true colours.” Henry countered. “Before that, he was loyal.”

“Salisbury is loyal only to himself.” Tudor barked back.

“How do you know?!” Henry demanded. The insult to the King pushing him.

Tudor didn’t answer, instead he got up and walked away. Henry watched him leave, something inside him demanding he summon Tudor back, but instead he looked back at Madog ap Owain and raised an eyebrow. Owain sighed. “He’s got sour grapes.”

“Why?” Henry asked.

“I do not know.” Owain replied shrugging. “But ignore him, he is not relevant.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Llewelyn said. “He did bring eighty men with him, many of them archers.”

Henry sighed. “He will need to be brought into line.” Tudor had had a close relationship with the King at one point, that much Henry knew, but what had happened to turn it sour, he did not know. Perhaps it was the deaths of Tudor’s sons in France? That might explain it.

“Either way, we’ve got a long day ahead of us, so, if you will excuse me.” Madog ap Owain said. He rose, nodded to Henry then turned and walked back to his tent.

Llewelyn looked at Henry and said. “I think he’s right, you know. Besides there’s a lass with tits the size of cannon balls waiting for me, so I’ll be seeing you, my lord.” Madog also got up and left.

Henry remained where he was, staring into the fire. He wondered what would happen when they got to Birmingham. Whether everything would be resolved as his father hoped or whether something worse would happen. He thought on something his father had told him in his last letter. The King had proposed a marriage between one of Henry’s sisters and the new Earl of Ormond as a way of establishing a base to counter the influence of the Earl of Kildare. Henry didn’t know what to think of that. It might be a good idea, or it might not. It might not even happen.

Eventually, he got up, turned around and walked back to his own tent. He nodded in greeting to various soldiers who greeted him, and breathed a sigh of relief when he got back into his own tent. He could see Morgan sleeping peacefully in the bed, as he closed the flap and bent down to undo his shoes. Once they were off, he padded over to his trunk and took off his cloak and his shirt and his trousers, he then put on a nightshirt and got into bed. Morgan turned slightly and whispered. “I love you.”

Henry felt his heart melt slightly at that as he whispered. “I love you too.” In return. He just hoped nothing happened to make any of this go bad. But he had a sinking suspicion that something would. Something always went bad when good things happened. He knew how the stories went after all. He closed his eyes and willed sleep to come.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 74: Birmingham

May, 1457

​

Anticipation ran through Edmund’s bones. He knew that what happened in Birmingham would set the tone for the remainder of the year and decade, and perhaps even the remainder of the King’s reign. That was why he was determined to ensure that his desires and his will won out. He would not be allowing York to gain the upper hand. The man may have defeated his motion in Dublin, but here, at this council? Edmund would reign supreme.

He had already gotten confirmation from Devon and from Arundel that they would support him if he brought a vote against York. Shrewsbury and Lisle had also confirmed that they would support him. He just needed to bring Buckingham and Norfolk around, then York would be finished. He shifted slightly in his seat. York might be second in line to the throne and the richest noble in the land, but he was also incredibly arrogant and foolish. He’d angered many of the nobles with his attempted uprising a few years ago, and had also angered many with his government after that.

The voice of the Earl of Shrewsbury broke through his reverie. “York is not going to go lying down.”

Edmund looked at Shrewsbury, there were dints of grey beginning to show in the man’s hair, and the lines on his face showed his age. Shrewsbury’s support for him was surprising, given their previous loathing of one another, but, York having sided with Kildare against Shrewsbury’s own interest in Ireland, meant that Shrewsbury had had no one else to turn to but Edmund. Edmund had not objected, Shrewsbury brought influence and strength in the Midlands after all.

“I know.” Edmund said. “But we out number him.”

“You are sure Arundel will support you?” Shrewsbury’s brother Viscount Lisle asked, the man was head strong and seemingly hot headed as well, if his attacks on the Berkeleys were any indication.

“Yes.” Edmund said. Arundel was a powerful magnate and his support had been won through offers of offices and rewards when Edmund assumed his rightful placing leading the King’s government.

“How will you get him and Salisbury to reveal their hands?” Shrewsbury asked.

Edmund smiled, he had a few ways, one of which he would implement the moment he learned York had arrived. Shrewsbury did not need to know that though, so instead, he simply said. “I will make him act.”

“How?” Shrewsbury asked.

“Do you want to know?” Edmund asked.

Shrewsbury didn’t get the chance to reply, for just then there was a knock on the door. “Enter.” Edmund commanded. A young man wearing his livery entered. The man bowed and then said. “My lords, the King wishes for your presence in the Great Chamber.” The man bowed again then left. Edmund looked at his fellow lords and said.

“Let us see what it is that His Grace wants.” He got up and walked out of the room, Shrewsbury and Lisle accompanying him. The Manor of Birmingham was an old one, dating back to the times of the Conqueror, it was slowly falling apart, there were cracks in the walls that could not be covered with paint or new wood. Edmund wondered how the Lord of the Manor, a man named William, was feeling about hosting the King, and how much expense he had gone to for this.

It didn’t take them very long-perhaps a five-minute walk- to get to the Great Chamber. A herald announced them and then they walked in. The King was sat on his throne, whilst Buckingham was to his right-hand side, William de Birmingham, Lord of Birmingham was to the King’s left. Edmund and his fellow lords bowed before the throne. “Sire.” Edmund said.

“Rise.” The King commanded, Edmund did so. The King’s beard had grown long, terrifyingly long, it not stood about half way down his chest, nearly touching his stomach. What look the King was going for, Edmund did not know.

“We have received word that the Duke of York and the Earl of Salisbury have arrived outside the town.” The King said.

Edmund nodded. “That is good news, Sire.” If the King said what Edmund suspected he would say, then Edmund knew what to do.

“However, they have come with a large force of men.” The King said. Edmund could have punched the air he was so happy, instead he put on an expression of surprise.

“How many men, Sire?” Edmund asked.

“1200.” The King answered. “Mainly drawn from Salisbury’s estates in the North, with York having brought men from Ireland.”

He could hear people muttering behind him. Irishmen in England? That was not a good sign. “That is…. that is concerning, Sire.” Edmund said.

The King nodded, and then said. “We wish to hear your view on what to do. Birmingham cannot hold that many men, and we know that Salisbury’s men are liable to take up a fight with Northumberland’s men.” Northumberland had come with six hundred men, a large number by any means, combined with the men Westmoreland had brought, and a fight was likely.

“Send someone to speak with York, Sire. Tell him what Your Grace desires and he will obey it.” Edmund said.

The King looked at Edmund and then at Buckingham, as if asking him a silent question. Buckingham replied in kind, simply saying. “It would be a wise idea, Sire, to gauge what York’s intentions are.”

The King nodded then looked at Edmund again and said. “Then that is what we shall do.”

Edmund knew he needed to seize the opportunity that was presenting itself here. He was going to propose his son Edmund, but decided that that might be too much of a risk. Instead he decided to choose a man who York would not know. “Sire, if I might make the suggestion for who to send?”

The King raised an eyebrow but waved a hand indicating Edmund might continue. “Sir William Paston, Sire.” At the King’s frown, Edmund continued. “The man is a lawyer; his words will be taken seriously by York.”

The King took a moment and then said. “Very well, summon him here.”

Edmund watched as one of the guards hurried off to find Paston. The man had come in Somerset’s retinue, but had also found himself in the lawyer’s tavern in Birmingham and thus wouldn’t be identifiable as Edmund’s son in law, which was a good thing. A few moments passed before Paston appeared. The man bowed, his wiry brown hair bouncing as he did so. “Sire.”

The King spoke then. “You are to go and meet with the Duke of York and the Earl of Salisbury, and you are to tell them that they are to set up camp with their men in Charters Field which is north of here. From there, they are to ride into Birmingham to present themselves before us.”

Excellent. Edmund thought to himself, York would never agree to that, Charters Field was a mile away. Too far away given the situation.

“Yes, Sire.” Sir William said.

“You may go and tell them this now.” The King said. “The rest of you are dismissed.”

Edmund followed his son in law as the man walked out of the room, once they had gotten into the corridor, he grabbed the man’s arm. William turned around and looked at him. “Don’t come back.”

“What?” William asked.

“Don’t come back. Give the message but don’t come back.” Edmund commanded.

“Why?” William asked.

“Do you trust me?” Edmund asked.

“Yes.” William said instantly.

“Then do as I say.” Edmund said, letting go of William as others started filing out. He watched the man go, and wondered if he’d done the right thing.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 75: Birmingham Pt 2

May, 1457

​

The walls of Birmingham were before him. They were solid, though Richard spied areas where they could be breached, had he brought cannons or battering rams. But he did not think such things would be necessary. They were here for a Great Council, not for war. That was something he had tried to explain to his brother in law when they had met in Yorkshire. Salisbury had brushed him off, pointing out that his son, Warwick, had talked about how heavily armed Dorset’s men were.

Richard sighed. He worried about what might happen at this council meeting. He was very clear about what he wanted to achieve. Reform of government, cutting down on excess patronages and removing corrupt officials. That was all. Salisbury wanted more, he wanted Northumberland punished, he wanted Somerset punished and seemed incredulous that Richard didn’t.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want Somerset punished but he wanted it done in a proper manner. Legally and politically sound. Parliament was the best way to do that. Not this Great Council. He knew Somerset, he knew that the man was a snake who would find some way of slithering out of what was done here. Richard didn’t want that. He wanted the man gone for good.

“The gate is opening, my lord.” Sir George Wiffen, his chief marshal said.

Richard blinked and saw that the gate was indeed opening. Clearly the King had been informed of their arrival. He glanced behind and sighed again. 1200 men, heavily armed and prepared for a war. This wasn’t going to go well; he could feel it in his gut.

He turned back around as the sound of a horse’s hooves came closer. Eventually a man on a black horse pulled up before him. “Greetings.” The man said, he wore the King’s livery and had a mop of black hair and lines around his face. He was vaguely familiar to Richard but where he did not know. “His Grace the King welcomes you to Birmingham.”

Richard said nothing, though Salisbury who was to his right spoke. “Who are you?”

“I am Sir William Paston, the King’s messenger.” The man, Paston said. Almost at once, Richard knew where he had met the man before. Paston was Somerset’s son in law. That raised his guard somewhat.

“What is the King’s message?” Richard demanded, wondering if it was really Somerset’s message.

Paston looked at him and said simply. “You are welcome into Birmingham, my lord, as are Lords Salisbury and Warwick and your immediate retainers. However, the rest of your men must camp elsewhere, for there is no space within Birmingham or the surrounding fields.”

Salisbury snorted and Richard bit back a sigh. He could appreciate what the King was saying, after all, as they’d marched here, he’d seen the surrounding area covered with tents. Most of them flew the flags of the King, Somerset, Buckingham, Devon, Norfolk, Arundel, Shrewsbury, Lisle and Northumberland as well as other magnates, great and small, but those others weren’t in too great a number. Clearly they had been late in arriving, for which he blamed Salisbury. “And where would the King have us go?”

“Charters Field, my lord.” Paston answered.

“Charters Field?” Richard replied. “Where is that?”

Paston took a breath, as if he was expecting backlash. Then he spoke. “A mile north of here, my lord.”

Richard felt his eyes widen. “You want us to turn around and march a mile northwards to set up camp, and then come back and present ourselves before the King?” Such a thing was not acceptable. If so many lords were here with their retainers camped around the town, Richard saw no reason for why they couldn’t find another place closer to the town.

“Yes, my lord.” Paston said.

“No.” Richard said. He wasn’t going to do such a thing.

“No?” Paston asked surprised.

“No.” Richard said. He pointed to his left and then his right. “All of these lords are camped near the town, we are going to camp near here also, not a mile away.”

Paston blinked, as if he had not expected such a response. “I am sorry, my lord, but that is not possible.”

Richard took a breath; his anger was getting the better of him. Somerset was behind this; he knew it in his bones. “There is a field a few minutes away from here that has enough space, we can stay there.” He couldn’t remember the name of the field but he was sure it was free.

Paston shifted in his saddle. “What is the field called?”

Richard turned and looked at Wiffen, who whispered. “Weymss Field, my lord.”

“Weymss field.” Richard supplied looking back at Paston.

Paston shifted again, then muttered something, then said. “I will need to check with the King.”

Richard exhaled. “Fine, go and check with His Grace. We shall remain here.”

Paston nodded and turned his horse around, he then set off for the town, Richard watched him go and then said. “There’s no point in us remaining like this, let the men rest and let us dismount.” His legs were starting to hurt. He turned his horse around, Salisbury and Wiffen doing the same, they then set off for where their men were.

“Rest.” Richard barked, immediately the men threw down their weapons and their packs and settled down to sit and perhaps eat as well. Richard felt his own stomach start grumbling, but as he dismounted, he didn’t think of food, he thought about Paston and what it meant that the man was the King’s envoy.

“That Paston, who is he?” Salisbury asked then. Richard looked at his brother in law, saw the white in his hair and the lines on his face and wondered how much longer the older man could continue like this.

“Somerset’s son in law.” Richard said simply.

“What?!” Salisbury exclaimed.

“Indeed.” Richard said.

“So, Somerset is in control then?” Warwick asked, coming to stand beside them, the younger man had a bit of a beard growing, it made him look older than his years.

“Perhaps.” Richard said.

“Perhaps? Come off it Dickon, we both know he is.” Salisbury said.

Richard sighed, he wasn’t in any mood to have this argument. “We don’t know if the King knows Paston is Somerset’s son in law. He may only know that he’s a lawyer and from this area.” Richard said.

“If that’s the case then he’s a fool.” Salisbury said.

Richard glared at his brother in law. But said nothing, instead he turned and nodded at Wiffen who went off to find the baggage. He then turned back to look at Salisbury and Warwick and said. “We’ve got to be patient. Who knows what’s going on.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 76: Birmingham: Clown’s Fool

May, 1457

​

“Where in the name of Saint Edward is Paston?” Henry muttered to himself. He looked out of the window onto the courtyard and grumbled to himself. It had been roughly an hour and a half since Paston had been sent out to deliver a message to York. He should have been back by now.

Henry turned around and looked at Buckingham. “Has any word come?” He demanded.

“No, Sire.” Buckingham replied shaking his head.

“Saint Edward’s Ghost!” Henry cursed, using the curse Cardinal Beaufort had taught him many years ago. “Where in the name of the Holy Spirit is he?”

He turned back around and looked out the window. He could see Lord Birmingham’s son playing with two or three of his friends, or were they his siblings? Henry didn’t know, and he didn’t care. Birmingham was a nice man, but this was something else. He wanted out of here as soon as possible.

“Sire.” Someone said.

Henry whirled around and found Somerset standing there, a strange expression on his face. Henry fought back disappointment and anger. Why was Somerset always hovering over him? “What?!” He demanded.

“Is it possible that York has done something to Paston?” Somerset asked tentatively.

Henry frowned. “Why would York do something to Paston?” Somerset seemed oddly keen to paint York as a villain, had he always been like that? Henry didn’t know, but it was beginning to grate at him.

“Any number of reasons, Sire.” Somerset said.

Henry felt his frown deepen. “What are you suggesting?”

Somerset raised his hands. “I am suggesting nothing, Sire. Merely proposing.”

“What is the difference?” Henry asked, he hated these games. He always had.

Somerset said nothing for a moment, but a wry smile came over him, that smile made Henry want to punch him. Instead, he took a breath and waited, the man would reveal what he meant, he always did, in the end. Eventually the answer came. “I am proposing that York might have done something to Paston to get a message across, any message, so that he can make his point.”

“And what point would that be?” Henry demanded.

Before Somerset could answer, there was a knock on the door. “Come.” Henry commanded, the door opened and in walked a guard, dressed in the Royal Livery.

The guard bowed and then said. “Sire, Sir William Paston is here.”

Henry nodded. “Show him in.” He noticed Somerset’s face change then. It went from confident to confused, why would he look confused?

A moment later, Paston entered, and his appearance shocked Henry. The man was covered in mud and blood. He had cuts all over and he was bleeding profusely. Paston bowed. And nearly fainted, Somerset had to rush to help him stand up.

“What happened to you?” Henry demanded, his heart racing, had York done this?”

Paston blinked at him as if not quite knowing who he was looking at. His words were slurred. “I gave the message to York…. he refused to go to where Your Grace wanted him to go…. said I would tell Your Grace about where he wanted to go…. I was attacked.”

“Attacked?” Henry asked. “Attacked by who?”

Paston swayed slightly. “I… I… I don’t know, they wore red with….l….lions.”

“Red with lions?” Henry asked.

Paston nodded and then lurched forward. He only just managed to stop himself falling over but blood landed near Henry. He closed his eyes and said. “Take him to see the doctor.” Two guards appeared and escorted Paston out of the room.

The door shut behind them. Henry looked at Norfolk, the man was Earl Marshal and responsible for these sorts of things. “Who has a red sigil with lions?”

Norfolk thought for a moment and then said. “Acton.”

“Acton?” Henry asked, he’d never heard of the man before.

“Yes, Sire, they were granted the right to bear a crest during the reign of Your Grace’s grandfather’s reign.” Norfolk answered.

“Why would they attack Paston?” Henry asked.

Nobody said anything, which surprised Henry, he would’ve thought Somerset would be right there to provide some form of answer. Instead he remained silent. Eventually, Henry asked. “Where do the Actons have land?”

“Yorkshire and the Midlands, Sire.” Norfolk answered.

“Yorkshire?” Henry asked. A thought came to him then. “Could they be working for Salisbury?”

“It is certainly possible, Sire.” Norfolk said. “The Actons own part of their land due to service done for him.”

Henry looked at Buckingham then and asked. “Would Salisbury have reason to prevent a peaceful discussion happening here?”

Buckingham looked slightly taken aback by that question, and hesitated in his response. When he did reply, his words were muddled. “I do not know, Sire. Perhaps…. but perhaps not. Salisbury does not strike me as the sort to take such rash action.”

“Oh come now, Humphrey!” Somerset said. “We all know that this is something that Salisbury has wanted to do for a long time.”

“We don’t know that.” Buckingham replied.

“Yes. We do.” Somerset countered.

Henry sighed. His head was starting to hurt and listening to these conversations wasn’t doing him any good. “There is no point in going backwards and forwards about this. I want Salisbury and Acton summoned here to talk.”

“Sire?” Buckingham asked sounding surprised.

“I need to know what they did.” Henry said.

“And if they refuse to come?” Buckingham asked.

“Then they are traitors and should be dealt with accordingly.” Somerset said heatedly.

Henry glared at Somerset and then looked at Buckingham and said. “Then we shall handle them accordingly.”

“Who should be sent, Sire?” Buckingham asked.

Henry took a breath and then thought about it. Paston had been attacked, he was a neutral spectator, a lawyer. Would York and Salisbury dare attack one of his own retainers or someone attached to the family? He didn’t know, but he supposed the only way to find that out was to take the risk, therefore, looking at Somerset he said. “Send Edmund’s son and namesake.”

Somerset’s eyes widened. “Sire?” He asked.

“You have nothing to fear, I will let you go and tell your son, yourself.” Henry said, turning back to look outside the window, indicating that this conversation was done. Paston’s figure was etched into his mind.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 77: Birmingham: Longer Suffering

May, 1457

​

Richard Neville, Earl of Salisbury scratched at his head and bit down the frustration that had been building for the last two hours. Where the bloody hell was Paston? How was it possible that a simple message could take so long to deliver? Something about this whole thing wasn’t right. Richard looked at his brother in law. Dickon was calm, expressionless, as always. Richard wondered what was going through his brother in law’s mind. The man would have to know that this was the decisive moment. The thing that would determine how the rest of their lives would go. They had to seize this.

To not seize this moment would be the height of foolishness, it would be like if their ancestor Edward III had not seized the moment and staged the coup that had removed Mortimer. And yet, Richard got the sense that there was some hesitancy in his brother in law. Some feeling that they had to respect the laws, laws which man had made, not God. And that… that frustrated him to no end.

When he could take the silence no longer, Richard spoke. “What in the name of St Edward is taking Paston so long?”

Richard’s son, the Earl of Warwick spoke. “Perhaps he’s conferring with Somerset about what to say.”

The fact that the King had sent Somerset’s son in law had shocked Richard, either the King did not know or he was a fool. Either way that clearly told them who was in charge in Birmingham. Dickon spoke then. “The King must be conferring with Lord Birmingham.”

Richard saw his brother in law frowning at something as he shook his head as if disagreeing with what he’d just said. “It wouldn’t take him two hours to decide on what to do.”

“So, what do you think is going on?” Richard asked his brother in law.

The other man sighed. “I think Somerset might be doing something.”

Richard leaned forward, this was a change. Was his brother in law finally coming to see sense? “What do you think he’s doing?”

York sighed again. “I don’t know and that is what worries me.”

“How so?” Richard asked, wondering what his brother in law meant.

Dickon looked at him then. “Before, it was somewhat easier to know what Somerset would do. That business in Ireland for instance. He wanted to undermine me in my own home, he wanted to win people over to him for a big push. He failed, but because I knew he was going to try something I ensured he thought he had a chance of success before ensuring he failed. Then before that at court, I was able to check his advances. But this? This is something I am not sure about.” Dickon shifted. “Something has changed, it is as if Somerset has become more erratic. Ireland was perhaps the first sign I got of that.”

“And what are the other signs?” Richard asked his brother in law.

“When he instructed his son to try and have your son murdered.” Dickon answered, Warwick had told them all about that meeting on their journey south.

“How so?” Richard asked.

Dickon sighed again and shifted once more, this time so that his head was resting against a cushion. “It shows that Somerset is getting desperate. If he was fine with having Warwick murdered, then I wonder what else he is fine with. Desperate men do insane things after all.”

Richard thought on that. His brother in law wasn’t wrong, there was something desperate about all of this, he had to admit. And if Somerset controlled the King, then God alone knew what might be the outcome here. He started to re-evaluate his view of this whole council business. “Perhaps then it is best if we prepare for the worst.”

“What do you mean?” Richard’s son Warwick asked.

Richard looked at his son and then looked at Dickon. “We need to act as though a war is about to happen.”

Before anyone could reply, a soldier appeared. “My lords, there is someone from Birmingham here to speak with you.”

Richard exchanged a look with Dickon, who then said. “Show him here.”

The soldier nodded, turned and then hurried away. “Who do you think it will be?” Warwick asked.

Their answer was evident the moment the soldier returned with a gangly young man, with a mop of darkish hair and piercing eyes. Richard whistled. Somerset had sent his own son. “Edmund Beaufort, my lords.” The soldier said.

Dickon spoke then. “What do you have to say?”

To his credit, Beaufort didn’t wilt, instead he stood up tall and replied. “His Grace the King asks that Lord Salisbury and Sir Acton be brought to Birmingham to answer questions.”

“What?!” Richard exclaimed. “What questions?”

Beaufort fixed him with steely gaze. “Why did you order Sir Acton to attack Sir William Paston?”

Richard stood up then. “I did no such thing.”

“Sir William says that you did. He says that men with red clothes with lions on them attacked him.” Edmund said.

“He is lying.” Richard roared. “I would never attack an envoy.”

“Well, you can come and tell the King that.” Edmund said.

Richard was about to agree, when he heard Dickon cough. He turned around and raised an eyebrow at Dickon. The man walked up next to him and whispered. “Be careful, this could be a trap.”

Richard nodded, then looked back at Edmund Beaufort and said. “I will only answer if your father comes out to answer my own charges against him.”

Beaufort’s eyes widened. “And what charges are those?”

“Treason and attempt to incite murder.” Richard said.

Beaufort swallowed and then said. “I shall convey those charges to the King.”

“Do so.” Richard said, watching as Beaufort turned around and walked away. As he disappeared, Dickon whispered.

“Are you sure that was the right move?”

Richard laughed. “We will just have to wait and see.” He sat back down and gestured to one of the servants for wine and food, as silence fell over him and his brother in law and son. They ate, joked and Warwick slept. Richard kept an eye on town before them, waiting for any sign of movement. He also mulled over what Beaufort had claimed. Acton wasn’t even with him; the man’s son had fallen ill and he had begged leave to remain in Yorkshire. Richard had reluctantly agreed, the man was a good archer, but they would do without him.

If Paston was telling the truth, then someone had decided to play a very dangerous game and impersonate one of Richard’s tenants. That was a punishable offence. But first Richard needed proof of that. Something which he unfortunately did not have right now. And if Somerset was behind this, he doubted he would ever get it. It would not be in the man’s favour to allow such a thing.

Eventually, Richard closed his eyes, there was no point wondering over this. It would resolve itself one way or another, he’d just get some shut eye and then handle everything as it came to him.

After what felt like only a few moments, Richard felt his shoulder being pushed. “What?” He asked, keeping his eyes closed.

“Father, listen.” His son said.

Richard did as he was bid, and as he listened he heard the sound of a low rumble, the wheeze of a dying horse somewhere, and then death itself approaching.

He sat up and blinked. He looked around and asked. “Where’s Dickon?”

“He’s speaking with one of his men.” Warwick answered.

“Get him here, we need to prepare.” Richard said.

“Prepare?” His son asked. “Prepare for what?”

“War.” Richard said.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 78: Birmingham: Battle Commences

May, 1457

​

Humphrey watched as the gate of the town was opened. His heart hammering, his mind whirring with activity. This was something he had tried to actively avoid for the past two years. This thing he was about to do. He raised a gauntleted hand and sighed. War, bloodshed, chaos, all of it was about to be unleashed on the Kingdom, and for what? For a few lords who couldn’t put their cocks away long enough to see that they were being played by someone.

Once the gate had been fully opened, Humphrey urged his horse on. He was convinced they were all being played by someone. There was no way reasonable demands that the King had made could result in what was about to happen. Humphrey had a few ideas about who it could be that was responsible. Somerset was one consideration. The man had positively glowed when his son had come back to report on what York and Salisbury had said. His words and the conversation that had been had echoed in Humphrey’s mind.

“Lord York refused to allow Lord Salisbury to come to Birmingham with Lord Acton to answer the questions you have, Your Grace.” Edmund Beaufort the Younger had said, his face expressionless.

Humphrey had watched as emotions warred on the King’s face, shock, anger, confusion. “He refused to let him come?”

“Yes, Your Grace. York said he would not allow Salisbury to enter Birmingham to face a false accusation.” Edmund said.

Humphrey watched as Beaufort looked at his father and he saw Somerset nod, what was going on here? Something wasn’t right. The King sounded hurt. “Why?”

Beaufort answered in a manner that only strengthened Humphrey’s feeling that the man was lying. “He said that Your Grace had no right to demand something of Salisbury that you would deny him. He claimed that Your Grace was acting without thought and without justification.”

“But why?!” The King demanded.

“Sire?” Beaufort asked, Humphrey saw him share a look with his father then.

“Why?” The King asked again, his hands moving to grasp at his beard. Humphrey felt alarmed then, was the King well?

Somerset spoke then. “Because York is a treasonous bastard, Sire.”

“How do you know that?” Humphrey asked, voicing his concerns for the first time. Somerset’s glare was all the confirmation he needed that something strange was going on.

“You heard what my son said, you saw what happened to Paston. This has all been done on York’s orders. His and Salisbury’s.” Somerset said, turning to face the King, the man got down on his knees and folded his hands. “Please, Your Grace, for the good of the Kingdom, strike down these would be traitors.”

Humphrey stared at the scene before him not quite sure what he was witnessing. He looked at Norfolk who shrugged. He then looked at the King and was about to say something when the King spoke. “York will know my wrath.”

Humphrey sighed. His horse was out of the town now and on the flat ground that was in front of Birmingham. The King had been convinced of something that Humphrey was not sure there was any proof of. At least, he had not thought so until right now. As he looked before him, he saw lines upon lines of soldiers all of them in York or Salisbury livery. All of them aligned in a line in front of him facing the town.

He stopped his horse in between the town and York’s horde. He looked from left to right. He had brought five hundred of his own men, Somerset and Dorset were getting their men ready from the fields to the left, whilst Northumberland’s men would be joining him soon. He needed to buy time, maybe try and figure out just what the hell was going on.

“Do you think they can be reasoned with?” A voice to his right asked.

Humphrey turned slightly in his saddle and saw his son and heir looking at him expectantly. Humphrey sighed. His son had been part of the party calling for war with York for some time now, whether that was his wife’s influence or not, Humphrey didn’t know. “I do not know. I hope so.”

His son said nothing then, for a junior soldier came running up to him and said. “My lord, Lord Northumberland is in position.”

Humphrey nodded his thanks and dismissed the man. He then drew his sword and muttered a prayer. “Oh Almighty God, protect us today, as we do our King’s work.” The King would enter the field later, if it was necessary, Humphrey hoped that that would not be necessary.

He took a breath then urged his horse on, it started off slowly then gradually increased until it was going at a run, he noticed that the enemy had also moved off. His sword was raised high; he was braced for the crash. When it came, his arms still shook. He swung and steel met steel. The opponent was pushed forward in the swarm and Humphrey was back to fighting as he could.

There were men swarming him. They wore Salisbury livery, which was interesting, had York decided to remain at the back? He hoped so. He didn’t want the man to die in the fighting. If Salisbury died? Well that might not be too much of an issue. As long as Somerset also died. He took a blow to the arm and winced, but got the man back in equal measure. It was starting to get incredibly hot, and he wanted breathing space.

The enemy were coming at him hard; Humphrey did what he could to remain on top but the pressure was getting to him. He took a blow to the hand and then to the leg. His horse got stabbed. He hacked away and others hacked at him, but there didn’t seem to be any coordination to the chaos. He tried to bark out orders, but his voice wouldn’t work and he doubted that he would be heard anyway.

Humphrey blinked as a big giant of man came toward him. He swung his sword and missed and the man swung his weapon and lodged it in Humphrey’s arm. He yelled in pain, he couldn’t move. The man ripped the weapon out and swung again, but this time, the man fell before he could strike again. Humphrey looked around to see where the help had come from, but couldn’t find its source.

The next thing he knew his horse was buckling. He looked down and saw that the animal had been shot through with arrows. Humphrey tried to get off the beast before it fell, but he couldn’t he was penned in on all sides by men fighting and his own legs were stuck it seemed. The beast planted forwards and then fell sideways. Humphrey yelled as he was pinned down.

The fighting continued around him, and then at some point men surrounded him. Humphrey tried to yell his surrender but his voice refused to work. The men started stabbing him, breaking through his armour, they went at his face and his hands and everywhere else they could reach. A putrid smell hit him then. What it was he didn’t know, but it was the last thing he smelt before he closed his eyes.