Albion Rising: A Henry Frederick Timeline

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Chapter 228: Palatinate Shuffle​

June, 1627

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“It seems that my mother has fallen ill.” Elizabeth said.



“Oh?” Frederick replied taking a seat. “What’s wrong with her?”



“Henry writes that she’s down with some sort of stomach issue. At first they all thought it would pass as her previous issues had done, but this time it seems more permanent. And there’s a lump.” Elizabeth said.



“A lump?” Frederick asked, his eyes widening.



“A lump.” Elizabeth confirmed. “The doctors found it, it’s small, but it’s there.”



“So, what happens now?” Frederick asked.



“Well, apparently the doctors told Henry of this procedure that can be done, it can drain the fluid from the lump and perhaps give Mother the all clear. However, it’s only been done twice before.” Elizabeth said.



“And what were the results in those two times?” Frederick asked.



“The first time the patient died, the second time, the patient recovered.” Elizabeth said.



“So, there’s a half and half chance Mother could live or die.” Frederick surmised.



“Exactly.” Elizabeth said. “Mother has said she wants to go through with it, but Henry isn’t sure.” Indeed, Henry had written the letter to her purely to ask her advice.



“And what do you think should be done?” Frederick asked.



“I think that if Mother wants to have the procedure, she should go for it. She’s aware of the risks and the consequences.” Elizabeth said. “And I don’t want my mother to die.”



That was the whole truth. That might make her selfish but it was the truth. She didn’t want her mother to die and if there was even the barest of chances that this procedure could save her, well then, she would take it.



Frederick nodded. “So, you know what to write to Henry then.”



Elizabeth smiled, deciding to change the topic she asked. “Have you decided what you’re going to do then?”



“I have, I’m going to Frankfurt.” Frederick said.



Frankfurt, where the Imperial Diet would meet to discuss all sorts of business, and if rumours were true elect the next King of the Romans. Frederick had been putting off making a decision on whether he was going to attend or vote by proxy for weeks now, so the fact that he’d decided to go was a relief.



“What changed your mind?” Elizabeth asked.



“My friends in Prague say that the King of Bohemia is going to attend and that he expects to be placed as the candidate for the election.” Frederick said.



“Not the Emperor’s son in law?” Elizabeth asked. That had been the main reason why Frederick had hesitated in wanting to go. Giving the Emperor’s son in law the succession would mean setting a precedent of the sort none of the Electors really wanted. Not really.



“Indeed not.” Frederick said. “It seems the Empress convinced her husband against it.”



“Perhaps the Empress is smarter than we thought.” Elizabeth commented. She’d always wondered who it was who actually led that relationship. The Empress from who the Emperor derived his claim to the Netherlands, or the Emperor who was the man and commanded the armies and all of the rest of it.



“Indeed, though I think the Emperor intends to crown his son in law and daughter as King and Queen of the Netherlands.” Frederick said.



“Can he do that?” Elizabeth asked. “I thought the Netherlands were part of the Empire?” At least that was what she had learned when she’d been preparing for her marriage to Frederick.



“As did I.” Frederick replied. “But it seems there was some obscure clause in an agreement that the Emperor’s grandfathers had made that allowed the Netherlands to be split off from the Empire, or at least not be directly in contravention of the Bull that made Bohemia the only Kingdom other than the Imperial Throne.”



“I see.” Elizabeth said. There clearly was no end to the Habsburg desire to gain as many thrones as possible.



“It’s all fairly irregular, and I intend to bring it up at Frankfurt.” Frederick said.



“You do?” Elizabeth replied. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” She didn’t want her husband getting threatened for something, especially with memories of the Dutch war so fresh in everyone’s mind.



Frederick sighed. “It’s nothing to do with whether it’s a good idea. It is the right thing to do.”



Her husband got that stubborn set to his jaw that she had noticed their children also got when they were determined to do something and damn the consequences. “Why?” She asked, just as she would ask them.



“Because the Emperor and his family need to remember that the Empire is not a hereditary monarchy and it is not their plaything. There are laws and traditions that need to be respected.” Frederick said.



“And if they decide to punish you for questioning them?” Elizabeth asked.



“Then the other Electors will see what we have and act.” Frederick said.



Elizabeth nodded but she wasn’t convinced. She knew people tended to look out for themselves when their backs were against the wall.



Frederick took her hand then. “Don’t worry, everything will be sorted. I’m not going in blind.”



Elizabeth nodded, but she still wasn’t that convinced.



However, she didn’t get the chance to voice her concern for Frederick changed the topic once more. “I received word from my uncle, the Prince of Orange today.”



“And what did he have to say?” Elizabeth asked. She didn’t view the Prince of Orange as highly as her husband did. She thought him a man who had gotten lost in the transition of time.



“It seems that the Crown Prince of Sweden has begun courting his daughter.” Frederick said.



Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “Truly?” She was aware that the Oranges and some of their court had moved to Sweden from London, but really, this just seemed improper.



“Indeed, and it seems my uncle is not against it.” Frederick said.



Elizabeth snorted. “Of course not.” Not if it meant getting his family into senior positions in a new place.

 

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Chapter 229: Last Away​

August, 1627

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Anne bit back a groan, as she shifted in the bed. Her sides ached, her stomach ached, every ached. She knew her time was limited, but could God not spare her some pain at least? She had done everything that could possibly be done, and yet still there was pain.



She didn’t think that that was right or fair. And yet it was what it was. She supposed there was no point in complaining about it, as her mother would have said. At least her children were here. Or rather her sons were here.



Elizabeth couldn’t come due to safety concerns, and Mary was heavily pregnant and so couldn’t come either. But that was fine, Anne understood that. She’d written letters for both of them telling them how much she loved them and how proud she was of them.



And she was. She was very proud of her daughters. They had adapted to their new surroundings with ease and had made them their own. Something she had never quite been able to do. Something that she wished she could have done.



But no matter, that was in the past now. Everything was in the past now.



“Henry.” She called.



“I’m here, Mother.” Her eldest son said kneeling down at her side.



“Are your brothers and their wives here?” Anne asked. She couldn’t see properly; her eyes had started going after the operation. Why that was she didn’t know but that was what it was.



“We are, Mother.” Charles and Robert said, she heard footsteps and felt a slight pressure on the bed.



“Good.” Anne said softly. “It is important that you hear what I have to say.” She cleared her throat and licked her lips, why was death so dehydrating?



Anne shifted slightly and winced; the pain was excruciating. Was this how James had felt before he had died as well?



She pushed that thought to one side and spoke. “The time is coming for my end. I will depart this world without much pause.” She didn’t hear any objections which was good, she didn’t want any. “Before I go though, I feel I must remind you of some key truths.”



She cleared her throat, took the cup that was offered to her, drank deeply, swallowed, handed the cup back and then continued. “You are brothers, you are family. Never forget that. The success of the Kingdom depends on the three of you working together.”



“Of course, Mother.” Henry said.



Anne continued. “There will be those who try and sow division between the three of you. Be it through spreading false claims or by trying to find out your weaknesses. You cannot let them. Remember that together you are strong but divided you are weak.”



“We won’t let them hurt us, Mother.” Robert said firmly.



Anne smiled. “You may not, but there will be those who will try. If they do not succeed with you, they will target your wives.” Already she had heard that Charlotte didn’t get on with Hedwig, and that Anna was having to play mediator. That was not good.



“Why would they go for our wives?” Robert asked, there was a hint of something in his voice that suggested he already knew the answer to that question.



Anne sighed; the pain truly was getting worse. “Because these people know that if you want to cause trouble for men you must first cause trouble for their wives. They will try and find something that your wives disagree on and use it to sow division. Once they have done that then their path will be simple.”



“So, what can we do?” that was Charles asking.



“Speak with your wives, make sure to keep on top of any possible disagreements and never let anything frivolous get in the way.” Anne said. What that frivolous thing might be she didn’t really know, but she suspected it would emerge soon enough.



“We will do as you ask, Mother.” Came the unanimous response.



“Good, now let me speak to your wives.” Anne commanded. She felt a weight lift from the bed and heard footsteps and then Anna Maria spoke.



“We are here, Mother.”



Anne took her eldest daughter in law’s hand and squeezed. Anna had been a great comfort to her over the past few months, since the operation. “You are all going to have to play a role over the next few years. Once I am gone, the eyes of the Kingdom will be on you.”



She heard something that sounded like a murmur from one of the ladies, but ignored it and continued. “We know that things won’t be easy for you, they never are. But remember that the time for petty squabbles is past. You are the main players on the stage now and the time for you to work together is nigh. Do not let anyone come between you, always work together and where you find disagreement try and work through it together.”



“We will, Mother.” That was Anne’s niece Hedwig.



“And never let any of these courtiers try and catch your eye.” Anne said, she knew the rumours that were there about some of her daughters’ ladies, and she didn’t approve.



“Of course, Mother.” Came the response.



Anne smiled, but felt it turn into a wince when a spasm hit her. Her breathing turned ragged. Her moment was approaching.



She cleared her throat and lay back against the pillows. “I am very proud of you all. You have given me something that I thought was not possible. Continue to do as you have done and I know you will make this Kingdom great. A light upon the hill.”



Her eyes were starting to droop shut, she considered resistance but decided against it. Her eyes closed, her breathing started to become more ragged, there was a rattle.



She could see James standing before her, as he had been in their youth. Handsome and smiling. His hands outstretched waiting for her. She extended her hand and took his. His smile widened and when he spoke, her heart sang.



“I’ve been waiting for you, my love.”

 

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Chapter 230: A Wife’s Concern​

October, 1627

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The door opened and Henry sat down with a large sigh. Anna put down the book she’d been reading and looked at him. His brow was furrowed and his eyes hinted at his unhappiness.



“How did it go?” She asked.



“Maunsell was found guilty. He will be executed tomorrow.” Henry said.



Maunsell, former Master of the King’s Ship Works had been on trial for bribery, corruption and a whole host of other crimes that he had admitted to after speaking with Henry a few months ago. When the report had been published, Parliament had started baying for his blood, and so Henry had obliged. That didn’t mean that her husband had liked it though. He had respected Maunsell until he had known the truth.



“How do you feel?” Anna asked.



“Sad and relieved.” Henry replied.



“Relieved?” Anna asked.



“Yes, now that this Maunsell business is done, we can move forward.” Henry replied. “The Admiralty Board is having its first meeting tomorrow and things look promising.”



“How so?” Anna asked, she hadn’t quite understood why Henry had decided to put off having a meeting of the Admiralty Board until now, but she had also understood that there was a time and a place for such questions, and given that they were all still in mourning for her mother-in-law, she had let it go.



“Well, apart from Warwick, there are going to be a lot more sailors coming to the meeting than I had first hoped. Many more, so there will be a balance of views and we won’t just have Warwick and his faction shouting above everyone else.” Henry said.



Anna smiled. “That’s good.” She knew how much her husband disliked Warwick; the lack of a suitable replacement was the only reason why he hadn’t been removed yet.



“Indeed, and with the trial out of the way I believe Parliament will finally move on.” Henry said.



“To considering reform?” Anna asked, what exactly this reform was, was decidedly vague, but it was something that her husband was pursuing with great vigour.



“Yes, I think I’ve found a way to get them all onside.” Henry said.



Anna raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“Well firstly, we’re going to be going on more Royal Progresses, meeting the people and the great lords.” Henry said.



“When?” Anna asked.



“Next month, when mourning ends.” Henry said. He sounded eager, whether that was for achieving his objective or for the end of mourning she didn’t know.



“Where will we start?” Anna asked.



“With Arundel.” Henry said.



Anna nodded, that made sense, Arundel was the premier non-Royal peer in the realm and he had done a lot for the Crown, particularly in clearing up the mess with the honours system. “Will you raise him to a Dukedom?” Anna asked, that was something that she was very aware that Arundel had wanted for a long time. To reclaim his family’s dukedom, lost during some treason committed half a century ago.



“I will.” Henry replied. “The man has given good and loyal service, and I don’t agree with Charles about keeping him along.”



“What do you mean?” Anna asked.



“Charles is of the view that the Dukedom should be used as a way of getting Arundel to keep doing what I want. For some reason he’s convinced that the moment the Dukedom is granted, Arundel will stop being loyal.” Henry said.



Anna snorted in surprise. “Why does he think that?”



Henry shrugged. “I do not know.”



“But you aren’t going to listen to him?” Anna asked, distinctly aware of what her mother-in-law had said before she had died, of them all working together.



“I’ve listened to him and I’ve told him why I disagree with him.” Henry replied simply.



Anna nodded and was about to probe further when Henry said. “I received a letter from Sweden today.”



“Oh? What about?” Anna asked.



“It seems that the Crown Prince has formally asked for the Prince of Orange’s daughter’s hand in marriage.” Henry said, amusement tinting his voice.



“Truly?!” Anna asked surprised, she wouldn’t have thought that the Swedes would want such a marriage anymore.



“Truly.” Henry replied.



“And what did the Prince of Orange say?” Anna asked.

“He accepted the proposal, and it seems he is negotiating with the King of Sweden over the terms of the marriage contract.” Henry said.



“I am…I am surprised.” Anna said.



“As am I, but I have a feeling the Queen of Sweden may have had a hand in it.” Henry said.



“How so?” Anna asked. “Because of her own origins?” She supposed she could see that and if the rumours were right, the Queen had quite the hold of her husband even now.



“Exactly.” Henry said.



“So, where does this leave us?” Anna asked. “We had considered marrying our eldest into the Orange family.” Or at least they had when the Oranges had still ruled in the Dutch Republic.



“Well, I think it’s more than likely that Arthur will need to marry the Saxon Princess.” Henry said.



“I agree, rather her than the Austrian girl that keeps being suggested.” Anna said, normally Anna wouldn’t be too opposed to it, but given how things were at the moment, avoiding an entanglement with Austria was for the best.



“That means we need a groom for Anne.” Henry said referring to their eldest daughter.



“We could always marry her to the Electoral Prince of the Palatinate.” Anna suggested, that was a good marriage.



“I think that is likely the best option, and at least we know that Elizabeth and Frederick will take care of her.” Henry said.



“Agreed.” Anna replied. “And what about Sigismund?” Henry Sigismund, Duke of Essex, their second son was soon to be a man and he would need a marriage as well soon enough.



“Arundel suggested a marriage to one of the Medici girls.” Henry said.



“That could be reasonable, if she comes with a large enough dowry.” Anna said.



Henry nodded. “There’s time yet, Sigismund won’t be of age for a few years yet.”



“True.” Anna said, she just wanted everything secured beforehand.

 

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Chapter 231: Spanish​

December, 1627

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“There has been a letter from our friends in Sweden.” Filipito said as he sat down.



Elisabeth looked at her husband, saw the lines on his face and frowned. He’d been spending too much time up late into the night again. She remembered the warning the doctors had given her husband and wondered why he wasn’t adhering to them. Men, always thinking they know best.



“And what word does our friend bring?” She asked.



“The King of Sweden has arranged a marriage for his eldest son to Maurice of Nassau’s daughter.” Filipito said, his tone sharp.



Elisabeth felt her eyes widen. Now that was a surprise. She would’ve thought that the King of Sweden would go for a more sensible marriage, especially given his pretensions to Denmark and other areas. “Why?” She asked.



“It seems the Crown Prince and Nassau’s daughter took a liking to one another and the King and Nassau decided to formalise it.” Filipito said, his lips curling into a snarl. His dislike of Nassau was plain.



“What are you going to do?” She asked, not because anyone expected anything from her husband but because she knew he would do something. He would feel that his honour had been slighted due to this betrothal.



“I have ordered a reduction on orders from Sweden and have stepped up the financial investment in Denmark. We are not going to give Gustavus a chance to do anything.” Filipito said.



Elisabeth nodded. “And I presume the spies that you have are working over time?” Her husband for all his faults knew how to use spies, and how to use them well.



“Of course. If there is even so much as a stray thought from King Gustavus or from Maurice, I shall know about it.” Filipito said.



Elisabeth nodded and asked. “What has the Emperor had to say about this?” She presumed the Emperor knew, either from his own sources or because her husband had written to tell him.



Filipito laughed, the sort of laugh that suggested he was not confident of the Emperor having the same response as him. That had been happening a lot lately, starting with Filipito’s brother being raised to a Crown by the Emperor. That had gotten Filipito quite angry to the extent that Elisabeth had been somewhat worried that he’d burst a vessel.



When he had stopped laughing her husband spoke. “The Emperor likely heard around the same time as I did. We had both thought that something like this could occur but I didn’t think it would actually happen. The Emperor won’t be that bothered by it. He’s too busy going over things with his successor.”

Maximilian, King of Bohemia and Hungary, recently elected King of the Romans who had ventured to Frankfurt and remained there with the Emperor after his election. Elisabeth wondered what they could be talking about in so much detail. She looked at her husband and asked. “Still?”



“Still.” Her husband confirmed. “Apparently there are a lot of things that the Emperor wants sorted out before he goes and he thinks that he has to stand over the King of the Romans shoulder to make sure the man understands.”



Her husband sounded as if he couldn’t believe just how ridiculous the Emperor was being. She hesitated to point out that her husband did just that with most of his ministers. She took a breath instead and said. “Well, it’s good that Bohemia is now the heir and the succession has been cleared up.” She had suspected that had it not been, her brother Louis would’ve tried something.



As if he had read her mind, her husband added. “I also received word from Paris today.”



Elisabeth raised an eyebrow. “What about?”



“It seems that Louis wishes to know where we stand on the matter of the Huguenots.” Filipito said.



Elisabeth frowned. “Why is that of concern to us? They are a French problem.” And though she still kept herself informed of what happened in France, her concerns were all about Spain now.



“Because Louis thinks we might try and aid the Huguenots to cause trouble for him.” Her husband said.



“And why would he think that?” Elisabeth asked. She didn’t think her husband would ever help a Huguenot, even if his life depended on it.



“Because we may or may not have had a rumour put out to that effect to shift his perspective on the trade agreement.” Her husband answered.



Elisabeth’s eyes widened. “And? Did it have the desired effect?”



“Yes.” Her husband said smiling. “The agreement has been amended.”



“You wouldn’t actually have aided the Huguenots would you?” Elisabeth asked.



Her husband snorted. “Of course not. There are limits to what is acceptable.”



Elisabeth nodded. That her husband had considered marrying a Spanish Infanta off to Britain, she didn’t say, he didn’t need that reminder and besides the girl was in Tuscany now. No doubt enjoying the warmer winter than she had experienced before.



A moment passed and then another then Filipito yawned and Elisabeth said. “You need to rest.”



Her husband laughed. “I will if you come with me.”



“Yes.” She replied without thinking, it had been far too long since it had been just the two of them.



Her husband extended his hand, which she took and together they walked away from the room and toward the bedchamber, where hopefully they could reacquaint themselves with one another.

 

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Chapter 232: Tour​

February, 1628

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Henry sat down in a comfortable position, looked at his gathered ministers and spoke. “Gentlemen, we have all been incredibly busy over the past year and much has changed within the Kingdom. The most significant change has of course been the introduction of the Admiralty Board. To that end, we wish to hear about how things have been progressing. Lord Warwick.”



Robert Rich, Earl of Warwick and Lord Admiral smiled his slimy grin at Henry and answered. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I am delighted to report that the Admiralty Board has begun running as smoothly as possible. There is a consensus on achieving the targets that Your Majesty has set for us and we have begun working toward achieving them.”



“How exactly?” Henry asked, he wanted actual tangible proof, not just flowery words.



Warwick’s smile widened. “We have divided the tasks into sections and a different group within the Board is working on each task. At present my role is to ensure that all of this works in harmony and thus allows Your Majesty to focus on grand naval strategy.”



Henry nodded, he supposed that was a start. Though given the winds of change that were coming in from different directions, he needed something a little more solid than that. “How long will it take to implement the reforms to the best of our abilities?” He asked.



Warwick’s smile didn’t disappear, though looking at his eyes, Henry could tell that the man wasn’t happy with the question. “It may take as little as four years or as long as ten, Sire. It is a gradual process, one that cannot and should not be rushed.”



“And in that time who knows what will happen in Europe.” Thomas Howard, recently created Duke of Norfolk said. “Spain could be dominating everywhere again.”



Warwick’s smile disappeared then and he looked as though he wanted to bite off Norfolk’s head. His voice was silky smooth though when he replied. “Perhaps, but they are not ones for reform.”



That was true, the word from his spies suggested that the Spanish were doing more to stagnate than improve. No doubt confident that their luck against the Dutch would continue. “Speaking of the Spanish.” Henry said. “I received an intriguing proposal from Sweden.”



“Sire?” John Harington, Earl of Exton asked intrigued. Harington was aware of the vague outlines of the proposal, but Henry had decided he was going to share the entirety of it now.



“Indeed. It seems that the Spanish have decided to punish the Swedes for harbouring the Prince of Orange and his family, and have cut off trade with them.” Henry said. “As such, the King of Sweden is now looking for someone to fill that gap, and he believes that we can fill it.”



Henry smiled as he saw the excited glances that his ministers exchanged. Spain’s loss could most definitely be their gain, especially as the Swedes produced some of the key materials needed for their ships.



“What terms did he want, Sire?” Lionel Cranfield, Earl of Middlesex asked.



“In return for taking the goods, he wants a reduction of tariffs on other goods to 25%, and he also wants the right for his ships to sail freely around the north of Scotland without paying the tolls.” Henry said.



“A reasonable exchange.” Middlesex said.



“But could it antagonise Denmark, Sire?” Lord Saye asked.



Henry nodded. “It is very likely that it will antagonise Denmark.” Especially if what he’d heard was true and King Gustavus was planning another campaign against the Danes. “But I am sure we can work something out.”



After all, Mary had given her husband two sons and seemed to have the King wrapped around her finger as well.



“So, shall I draw up the contract, Sire?” Middlesex asked.



“Draw up a provisional contract for now, and let us see how things progress.” Henry replied, though he was aware that they couldn’t take too much time on this. Spain’s absence would be noted by others, including the French.



Middlesex nodded and made a note of that, and in the silence that fell, Henry found himself contemplating other matters. Mainly whether or not the time was right to resume Royal Progresses. He had wanted to go on one last year, but the weather had prevented it. But this time around, with spring approaching, perhaps it would be the right time.



He looked around the room and said. “There was one final thing that I wished to discuss with you all.” Everyone focused on him then. “I wish to resume the Royal Progress. It is time that we ventured out of London and saw our people.”



“A wise choice, Sire.” The Archbishop of Canterbury said. “Where would Your Majesty wish to begin?”



“I believe a tour of the south is in order first. Winchester, Canterbury, Portsmouth, the areas that make up the bedrock of the Southern Counties.” Henry said, and also the areas that would form possible opposition to his naval policies.



“A brilliant decision, Sire.” Canterbury said.



“I agree, Sire.” Lord Saye said. “Give the demands that will be placed on these areas, now would be the right time to get them on the good path and prepared for what is to come.”



Others voiced their agreement, which prompted Henry to smile and say. “Very well, then it is decided.” He looked at the Earl of Pembroke, who as Lord Chamberlain would be responsible for organising the progress. “See to it that the respective Mayors and Gentry are informed.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Pembroke replied.



Henry nodded. “And one final point before we depart for the day. It has been decided by myself and Her Majesty the Queen that our son the Duke of Cornwall shall be married to the Elector of Saxony’s second eldest daughter. Negotiations have begun and we expect them to be concluded by August of this year.”



There were murmurs of approval at that, which prompted Henry to smile once more, before he rose and departed. The meeting had gone better than he’d expected. Which was a good sign for the year to come.

 

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Chapter 233: Learn From Your Ancestors​

March, 1628

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Arthur stared at the portrait before him. The man was dressed in armour, his hand on a helmet with a white feather sticking out of it. His eyes seemed to be boring into Arthur’s soul. His hair was black as was his beard. The armour was silver, or grey, and the face was white.



Arthur mimicked the man’s posture. Straight back, head up, chin out. He felt ridiculous but clearly whoever had painted this portrait had felt it was necessary to do. He wondered whether or not the man had seen the portrait after it had been done.



“What are you doing?” A voice asked from behind him.



Arthur whirled around and bowed. “Your Majesty.”



His father stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder, indicating he could rise. “What are you doing?” His father asked again.



“I was…I was just admiring this portrait.” Arthur said gesturing to the portrait before them. “Do you think he actually stood like that?”



The King snorted. “No. I doubt Henry VII had much patience for such things. Besides, this portrait is from his grandson’s reign, so it’s hardly accurate.”



Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Really?” He could have sworn this was from Henry VII’s reign, but then his appreciation for art wasn’t like his father’s, he wasn’t obsessive about it.



“Indeed, the brush strokes give it away.” The King said.



“Ah.” Arthur replied.



“Now, let’s move onto other things.” The King said. “Tell me, how have you found Winchester so far?”



Arthur hesitated, did he tell the truth, and say that he found Winchester boring and dull, or did he give some flowery response? He glanced at his father and saw that the man was looking at him rather intently. That suggested the King expected the truth. “It’s not as intriguing as I thought it would be.”



The King didn’t lambast him or tell him off, instead he asked. “Why?”



“Well, after everything I’ve read, I thought that Winchester would be filled with stories. You know things to see from when the Royal House of Wessex ruled here. But there’s nothing really here. There’s the castle and there’s the cathedral, but there’s nothing else.” Arthur answered.



“You haven’t been paying attention to the people then, have you?” The King said.



“The people?” Arthur replied, why would he be paying attention to the people?



“The people.” The King said. “They’re the ones that make this place interesting.”



“How so?” Arthur asked intrigued.



“Well, think about it. No monarch has been to Winchester proper since the days of Edward III. Or perhaps earlier. The people are not used to having their sovereign right there before them. They’re uncertain as to what to do and how to act. The plots and games they play are going completely off the mark as they try and adapt.” The King said.



“Games?” Arthur asked. “They play games here too?” He was fully aware of the games that happened in London, he’d grown up with them, but he hadn’t thought anywhere outside London would play those games.



The King smiled. “Of course. Everywhere plays games. It may not be the sort that is played at court or in Westminster, but they play games. And they fully expect us to be involved in them.”



Arthur groaned. “Why?”



“Because that is the way things have always been. They want us to know them, to see their worth and they think that these games are the way to do that.” The King answered.



“Can’t they…can’t they do something useful?” Arthur asked. Like help build ships or embark on trade, or something, anything other than those foolish games.



“They could.” The King said, grinning now. “But where would the fun be in that?”



Arthur raised an eyebrow at his father. “Fun?”



Did his father really think it was fun?



“Yes indeed.” The King said, his grin widening now. “You get to truly know a man when you see what lengths he goes to try and court favour or get power. And the most revealing thing is when women do it.”



“Women do it as well?” Arthur asked surprised. He knew his mother and sister were good at the game in London, but that was because they were Royals and had to be good. He didn’t think other women did it as well.



“Oh, most assuredly. Women are the best players there are. They have to be.” The King said.



Arthur groaned, this sounded like a complete nightmare.



“You are young yet, but whilst we embark on this progress you must pay attention. More attention. To the people, to how they speak, how they say certain words and how they act. And look at their eyes.” The King said putting an arm around Arthur then.



“Their eyes?” Arthur asked, looking at his father, why the eyes?

The King looked back at him, and in his eyes, Arthur saw two things, amusement and was the other thing frustration or understanding? It was difficult to tell, but Arthur got the sense that this was what his father wanted him to see.



“Because the eyes don’t lie?” Arthur asked.



“Precisely.” The King said. “A person may tell you they love you but, in their eyes, they will tell you they want to see you dead. In my time, I have found that the eyes reveal what a person truly thinks.”



“But how am I to look into their eyes and know this without giving it away?” Arthur asked. Surely if this was something that was common knowledge everyone would be looking out for it?



The King clapped him on the back and said. “That is something you will need to learn from your betrothed.”



“My betrothed?” Arthur asked uncertain as to what the King meant. He wasn’t even aware that his betrothal had gone through yet, he thought they were still negotiating it.



“Oh yes. Women are very good at seeing what’s in a man’s eyes. How do you think I learned?” The King replied.



“From Mother?” Arthur asked.



“Exactly.” The King said. “And if you don’t learn from your future wife, I will be very disappointed.”



Great another thing that I have to learn. Arthur thought to himself.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 234: Cromwellian​

May, 1628

​

Oliver looked around at the men gathered before him. His sons and his nephew. They had all accompanied him as he’d journeyed with the King on the Royal Progress, and he’d tasked them all with observing what happened and where it happened and processing why they thought it had happened.



Now, as they had a day of rest in Portsmouth, he decided that the time was right to ask them what they’d learned.



“So, what have you observed?” He asked.



His son Giles answered then. “The court moves like a great wyvern, going from one place to the next and leaving the previous place completely different to how it was before.”



Oliver nodded. “And why do you think that is?”



“Because wherever the King goes, change has to follow. The King is the sun and the sun brings life as well as death.” His eldest son Henry answered.



Oliver smiled that was a fitting description, especially given the three men that the King had ordered hung for some crime or the other in Canterbury. “Precisely. And as a great wyvern, the Royal Court is filled with things that may cause great benefit or great damage to those who observe or even try and touch it. Have you noticed any of that?”



There was a brief pause as his sons and nephew looked at one another, the pause stretched on and Oliver was about to snap at them when his nephew and namesake replied. “Lord Saye, Sir.”



“What about Lord Saye?” Oliver asked. As a minister of the Crown Lord Saye was technically part of the court, but a lot had happened around him as the court had progressed.



“He’s trying to bring John Pym onto the court’s side and he keeps getting burned.” His nephew replied.



“By who?” Oliver asked. He knew by who, but he still wanted to see whether his nephew knew the intricacies of court.



“By the Duke of Norfolk and the Earl of Exton, Sir.” His nephew answered.



Oliver nodded. Norfolk and Exton the two most conservative voices on the King’s Council and the two the King listened to the most. “And why do you think they are opposing Pym’s joining of the court?” Oliver asked.



His nephew didn’t answer, instead it was Oliver’s son William who answered. “Norfolk detests Pym and everything he stands for. He thinks he’s some sort of heretical radical who means to bring down the established order.”

Oliver nodded that was about right. “And Exton?”



Nobody answered him then, and Oliver couldn’t help but admire how Exton had continued to keep his real motives hidden. Yes, he was a great friend to the King-perhaps the King’s closest friend-but whether he said what he did out of loyalty to the King or for some other reason, nobody actually knew. And that made him incredibly dangerous.



Deciding not to focus overtly on Exton, Oliver asked. “And do you think Pym will end up joining the court?”



“No.” Came the definitive reply.



“Why?” Oliver asked.



“Because of the comments that Pym has made in Parliament previously and because of the stance he has taken regarding the Queen.” Oliver’s nephew replied.



“Exactly.” Oliver said. “Remember something, all of you. If you want to get far in this life, never, ever insult the Queen. Whether the King gets on with her or not, an attack on the Queen is like willingly hanging a noose around your neck.”



“Even if the Queen is of a religion that is not agreeable to the Kingdom?” His nephew asked.



“Especially then.” Oliver replied. “For in doing so, you suggest that you are questioning the King and the King cannot be questioned. He is God’s appointed on this world. We must remember that.” He looked directly at his nephew then when he said that last part, for he was well aware of some of the circles his nephew had been mixing with.



A murmur passed between his sons and his nephew at that, but thankfully there were no objections. When the murmurs died down, Oliver said. “I want you all to focus on new tasks now.” They had shown they were capable of paying attention and gathering information-which he knew his elder sons could do but it was good to know that Giles and his nephew could do it as well-the time had come for them to put what they had learned into effect.



“The time has come for us to expand our influence.” Oliver said, he looked at each of the men in turn and said. “Henry and John, you will get to knowing the Earl of Warwick. Strengthen your connections with him, use your ties to the Navy to make yourself useful. William and Thomas, you will come with me as we accompany the King on his tour of the docks and the works tomorrow. Ask questions, show interest.”



His elder boys nodded. Oliver then focused on Giles and his nephew. “Giles and Oliver, you’re going to be within the city. Keeping an eye on everything that is said and done. If a soldier sneezes I want to know.”



“Yes Sir.” Came the reply.



Satisfied Oliver dismissed the younger men. All of them except his eldest, Henry, left fairly easily. Henry remained behind, standing at the door.



“What is it, Henry?” Oliver asked.



Henry stood still, his jaw working. Clearly whatever he had to say was something he’d been mulling over for some time. When he did finally answer, his words were soft. “Are you sure Oliver can be trusted, father? You know the company he keeps.”



“I do.” Oliver replied. “And that is why I’ve entrusted Giles to look out for him. The two won’t get into danger with Giles there.”



Henry didn’t look convinced but he nodded all the same. “Very well, Father.” With that Henry bowed his head and walked out.



Oliver watched his eldest go, and sighed. He was getting too old for all of this. Maybe after this progress he’d retire to his estates and let the young ones deal with everything.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 235: Scotland Concordant​

August, 1628

​

Charles bit back a sigh. He was growing tired of these meetings. They were endless. One noble wanting him to sort out his feud with another noble, a woman wanting redress for her daughter’s insult or some other nonsense. The only thing that sparked interest now was when the clans started raiding one another’s land, and that was only because it gave him a chance to delve into ancient Gaelic law.



Today was one such instance.



“Who has been doing the raiding this time?” Charles asked, looking at George, Earl of Kinnoull, the man the King had entrusted with handling Clan affairs.



“Clan MacPherson, Your Highness.” Kinnoull answered. “They broke into the border farms owned by Clan Cameron and took some seventy sheep.”



“So, they are in the wrong.” Charles said, he meant it as a question, but he knew it was better to make it sound like a statement. The Scottish Lords didn’t like hesitancy.



“I do not think so, Sir.” Kinnoull replied.



Charles frowned. “You do not think so?”



“As far as I can make out from the reports on the ground, this raid was in response to a raid that Clan MacDonald made on Macpherson territory.” Kinnoull said.



“I thought MacDonald and Macpherson weren’t enemies?” Charles asked. Sometimes trying to keep who was allied with who, and who was enemies with who in the Highlands was like trying to remember the entirety of the Bible from start to finish.



“They aren’t, Sir.” Kinnoull said. “But Cameron and MacPherson are as are MacDonald and MacCallum. And from what I have been able to learn it seems the MacDonald raid was in retaliation for MacPherson sheltering William MacCallum on their lands.”



“And what did this William MacCallum do?” Charles asked.



“He raped Lord MacDonald of Sleat’s daughter, Sir.” Kinnoull said bluntly.



Charles wanted to scream; this was going to get a whole lot worse. He could just feel it in his bones. He had two options, either he let this feud escalate and then sent in the army to stamp it out, or he could deal with it here and now and go for an unknown solution.



He decided to go for the latter choice.



“Summon all of them here.” Charles commanded.

“Sir?” Kinnoull replied sounding uncertain.



“Summon them all here.” Charles commanded. “I will not have them running around causing havoc.”



“Yes, Sir.” Kinnoull replied, making a note of what Charles had commanded.



Satisfied, Charles turned to his cousin, the Duke of Lennox, who as Admiral in charge, Scotland, had command over the Scottish seas and spoke. “You had word from the north, cousin?”



Lennox was a companion of Charles’ nephew-the newly created Prince of Wales, or soon to be created Prince of Wales-and had arrived back in Scotland earlier this year, with a letter from the King naming him as Admiral of Scotland. He was a smart lad, if a bit arrogant. “I have, Sir. And it is not good.”



Of course not, word from the damned north is never good. “Well, what is it?” He asked.



“It seems that ships bearing the flag of the Prince of Orange have been fishing in our waters, Sir.” Lennox replied.



“What?!” Charles exclaimed, why would they be doing that? Swedish ships never usually came this far.



“That was my reaction as well, Sir.” Lennox replied. “I ordered the ships that spotted the flag to keep an eye out and they saw it thrice more after making their initial report.”



“And?” Charles asked. “Did they engage?”



“On that final time, they did. They requested that the ships stop. The ships didn’t, instead they journeyed away from the coast.” Lennox replied.



Charles frowned. What was going on? Were they genuine ships under the command of the Prince of Orange or was it something else? Was it a trap being laid by the Spanish?



“And these men are sure it was the Prince of Orange’s flag that they saw?” Charles asked.



Lennox described the flag that the crews had seen and it matched the description of the Prince of Orange’s personal flag. Charles sighed. This was strange. If the Prince of Orange had ships out, why were they travelling so far from Sweden, and why had they fled when they had been approached. And if they weren’t the Prince’s ships, what were they doing here and who did they belong to?



This was a matter for the King, Charles decided. Henry would know what to do. “I shall send word south for the King.” Charles said. “Meanwhile, I want patrols increased in the north. If anything so much as looks out of place I want to know.”



“Yes, Your Highness.” Lennox replied.



Charles nodded, he was still somewhat unnerved by the fact that the Prince of Orange’s banner seemed to be flying on ships that were fleeing from them, but there was one last important matter that needed discussing.



“The King intends to bring the court northwards in a few months’ time.” Charles announced. Henry had written earlier this month to inform him of that. It seemed the King wanted to visit everywhere.



“As such I wish to know how prepared we currently are for a Royal visit.”



There was a flurry of activity as everyone spoke at once, Kinnoull said he’d need to get the courts in order, Lennox said the fleet would need to be properly fitted out for inspection and someone else said something else.



Eventually, Charles banged his fist on the table and looked at the Controller of the Finances, the Earl of Morton and asked. “Lord Morton, your view?”



Morton was a grizzled man, older than Charles by about two decades, and someone who’d made a fortune selling goods made in Virginia within the Kingdom and elsewhere. Charles had been quite surprised that the King had allowed that, but then Morton had also ensured that the finances of his court-but not a court-functioned well enough.



“We will manage, Sir.” Was all Morton said.



Charles nodded. “Very well. Everyone else, whatever preparations you need to make, make them now. I want us ready and prepared for anything.” For who knew when the King might decide to come north?

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 236: Hull​

October, 1628

​

“I don’t understand why we were left at Hull.” Charlotte complained, not for the first time.



Robert rubbed at his eyes, he bit down the frustration that was building inside him. He’d explained this to his wife several times already, starting from when the King had told him at Caernarvon that he wanted him here. But still, he supposed saying it again wouldn’t hurt. “I am here because the King wishes me to oversee the ships that are being built. You are here because you wanted to come.”



Robert would have preferred it had Charlotte had stayed with the court or gone back to London to be with the children. But no, she insisted on coming and so here they were.



“But why Hull?” Charlotte asked. “Why are ships being built at Hull?”



Robert sighed. “Because this was one of the places that the Admiralty Board decided upon for ship building. Being next to the Humber and near the coast, it has the right conditions needed for ship building and the materials are easier to access here.”



Charlotte held up a piece of paper that was tattered and torn. “The town is like this piece of paper.”



Robert grimaced. His wife may have been right, Hull may not be anything special, but she could at least show a bit of pleasure at being here, or at least hide her feelings. He’d told her that before as well. But she insisted on speaking like this, admittedly when it was just the two of them but still.



“You do not have to remain here, Charlotte.” Robert said. “Indeed, given how you’ve been carrying on, I could write to the King or the Queen and ask that you accompany them. They are only in York after all.” The progress that the King had embarked on had been quick. When he visited somewhere, he stayed for perhaps two or three days then moved on. They stopped for a night and then left right away. And with the entire court following them that was quite the achievement.



Charlotte of course acted just as he thought she would. Drawing herself up to her full height-which was still shorter than him-she bristled and replied. “I will not go. I am your wife and I will go where you go. Since you are here, I am here.”



That sounded vaguely threatening but Robert knew his wife well enough to know that it was meant as an expression of love. “Fine. Then stop complaining.” He barked. He couldn’t handle so much complaining. Not this close to the water. He missed his own ship, docked in London as it was. The King had refused to take the ships with them, saying it made no sense. Given this was the first time they’d been close to the water the entire journey, he supposed it made sense.



“I did hear something interesting though.” Charlotte said. “Whilst socialising with those fools.”



The fools were the ladies of Hull and the surrounding area. The wives of the country squires and gentry who attended Robert as he worked here. They even included members of the town council.

“And what did you hear?” Robert asked. Charlotte was very good at getting people to confide in her. It must be something they taught in France.



“The head of the town council is having an affair with a Dutch woman.” Charlotte said.



Robert raised an eyebrow, unsure of how this related to anything he wanted to know.



“Lady Thoresby saw Sir Theobald leaving the woman’s residence late one night.” Charlotte said. What Lady Thoresby had been doing walking around late at night, Robert wanted to know. But he ignored that urge and instead waited. Charlotte would continue when she was ready.



“She followed Sir Theobald for a time, and saw him stop off at several inns of ill repute.” Charlotte continued sounding scandalised.



Brothels. I thought Theobald was married?



God alone knew what the situation was there. The man and his wife confused the breeches off Robert most of the time.



“And?” Robert asked.



“He eventually stopped of in the merchants’ quarter, where he handed a small letter to a Moor.” Charlotte said.



“A Moor?” Robert asked. Moors weren’t uncommon in London due to trade but this far north? “Is she sure it was a Moor?”



“Yes.” Charlotte said. “The moment she saw the Moor, she fled back to her own home.”



Robert nodded. That was interesting. Clearly something was going on. Was the Dutch woman really a Dutch woman, or was she a spy? Was Sir Theobald a traitor? How was he going to find out? He looked at Charlotte and asked. “What do you think?”



The way his wife’s eyes shone showed she knew exactly what he meant. “I think the Spanish are playing a tricky game. First the ships near northern Scotland and now this? They want something.”



“I agree.” Robert said. When the letter from Charles had come, Henry had set off at once. Leaving the newly created Prince of Wales in Wales to get to know his people and setting off with as much speed as the court could give him. “The question is what.” What indeed. The Dutch Republic was broken, the Spanish had taken the colonies from the former republic in the New World and were expanding their presence in Asia. What more could they want?



“Sow chaos and discord. Or they want to know what’s happening here.” Charlotte suggested. “After all, Britain is the only place that could significantly challenge them on sea. The French are more land focused.”



Robert nodded, that was true. And the French were busy, trying to rid themselves of the Huguenots, another issue that Henry had had to contemplate whilst they’d been in Wales.



He sighed. “I guess I am going to have to ask Lady Thoresby to keep an eye on Sir Theobald.”



Charlotte grinned. “Don’t worry, she’s already doing so.”



“She is?” Robert asked.



“Oh, indeed. She’s a nosy one that one.” Charlotte replied.



Robert laughed, his wife really knew what she was talking about there, he supposed.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 237: Five Men​

December, 1628

​

The room was fairly nondescript, no paintings, no tapestries, no ornaments. A proper Protestant room. John Pym felt comfortable here in a way he just didn’t in London.



Perhaps it was the fact that he was in the presence of his friends, Hampden, Haselrig, Strode and their mysterious aid from the Prince of Orange, who gave his name only as Laine, an odd name for sure, but a name nonetheless.



When Laine cleared his throat and looked intently at John, he spoke. “I have received word that the King has increased the patrols that the northern fleet are doing near Orkney and the other northern Isles. Indeed, it seems the King wants them to patrol as far north as they can go.”



“Good.” Laine said. “That means they are taking the threat seriously.”



“The King has also ordered the ships stationed in London, Portsmouth and Plymouth to begin weekly patrols of the Channel.” John added, he’d only gotten that information because his cousin was sleeping with the Earl of Warwick.



If Laine was surprised, he didn’t show it. Instead, he simply nodded. “To be expected.”



John wasn’t sure he agreed with that view. There was something about this that struck him as odd. Were the Spanish really trying to antagonise the King and thus Britain and provoke another war, now? When they were in the height of their victory? He wasn’t sure. But he held his tongue.



Haselrig as always asked the question that John dared not. “How do we know that it is the Spanish who did this?”



John saw some impatience from Hampden and Strode, they wanted to move onto discussing other things, but John knew that they had to resolve this little quandary first, otherwise it would be nagging at the back of their minds for a long time.



Laine wasn’t perturbed indeed, a small smile played on his lips. “Think about it gentlemen. Who stands to gain from flying the Prince of Orange’s banner on a group of ships and having them move into waters that they are not allowed to fish in? Who stands to gain from having those ships flee in the direction of Sweden and thus spark concern and fright.”



“Spain.” Haselrig said.



“Spain.” Laine agreed.



“It just seems too convenient.” John said.



All eyes focused on him, causing his cheeks to heat. It was far easier, he found, to speak in the great hall of Parliament with the eyes of an entire Kingdom on him than it was to speak here amongst his peers. He swallowed and continued. “Spain is at the height of its power. It has no real enemy. Why would it get involved now? Why would it do something like this now?”



“To sow division.” Strode answered. “Madrid must know that King Henry is looking to make a grand alliance with Denmark and Sweden, and they must think that by doing this they can cause some division to be sown. After all, in the immediate aftermath everyone thought the Prince of Orange had actually sent those ships.”



“Yes, but surely King Philip is not such a fool as to think that that would last?” Pym asked. He didn’t know much about the Spanish King, but he did assume he had a lick of common sense.



“Perhaps, and perhaps he did it knowing this and knowing that nothing could be done.” Strode replied.



“What do you mean?” Pym asked.



“Well, it’s hardly as if the King can order retaliation now. The Royal Navy isn’t ready.” Strode pointed out. “Madrid has shown the King’s weakness for what it is.”



Pym wanted to protest, he might not like the King but he didn’t think the King was weak. But before he could, Laine spoke. “Exactly gentlemen. That is what Madrid has done and that is why we are here.”



John looked at Laine, and so, the discussion had turned to this main point already then. “You have news?” He asked.



“Better.” Laine said. “Have coin.”



“Already?” Strode asked.



“Indeed, my master is a good man.” Laine said. “Several chests have been kept here in safe places ready to be used when the signal comes from yourselves. The amounts will be paid to the Church Elders in small amounts, enough to get them hooked and willing to do more to get the rest.”



“And your master is sure this will work?” John asked. It was one thing to consider changing the Church Elders toward a low church view, quite another to actually go out and do it.



Laine nodded. “Based on what you have told me, and what my master has learned, yes, he is very confident that this will work.”



John nodded accepting the answer. “What do we need to do?”



They had a plan, but sometimes plans could change, therefore it made sense to go over it one last time.



“Speeches in Parliament, whispers in your congregations’ ears, the right palms being greased. Simple things.” Laine said.



“And we will get what we want.” Strode said.

“A church filled with Low Churchmen willing to drive any and all sign of Popery into the sea. Willing to bring God’s word to the world.” John whispered. This was why they had started working with Laine. This was why John was willing to humiliate himself with his speeches and his proclamations and even face prison for insulting the Queen.



The King had strayed. He was not their Protestant hero, their Arthur come again. No, he was a tool of Rome and men like Abbott who claimed Puritanism but failed to live it.



The time had come to replace them and restore the church to how it had been under King Edward. That would bring glory to England.



It surely must, otherwise they were all doomed.



“I have sent word to Scotland.” Haselrig said. “Our friends there are ready to strike when the time comes.”



Remove the King and make his fool of a son the new one. Manipulate him into thinking the Papists had done it and be done with them. Bring a new Eden into the world.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 238: Caernarvon ​

February, 1629

​

Arthur bit back a shiver as the door opened. The windows were closed, but still it was cold. And not the sort of warm cold that one usually got in London, but the biting, twisting cold that he had come to associate with Wales. He wasn’t used to it, but he refused to allow it to bend him. His father, the King had tasked him with knowing the Welsh and becoming Prince of Wales in deed rather than just name-something the King had made quite clear at the feast to celebrate his investiture-and he meant to follow through with that.



Therefore, putting the cold to one side, he fixed his attention to the Account Books for the Principality.



The system for collecting tax and noting down expenditure hadn’t been much changed since the time of Edward V, when the last reform had come. The King hadn’t changed much of it either, preferring to focus on the Duchy of Cornwall, but Arthur needed to understand what was happening. He needed to show he could work his mind.



He read down the pages, making note of money being spent on food, on clothes, and jewellery, on bribes to certain officials-the bribes didn’t make him frown as much as they might have done before, the game was played everywhere-and then he stopped. He looked at the sum written down and looked again.



£2 for services rendered.



No recipient was noted. No date, just the figure.



“Sir Marmaduke.” Arthur said.



Sir Marmaduke Lloyd, Chief Justice of Chester and the Courts of Wales, looked up from whatever it was he had been scribbling. “Your Highness?” The man replied.



“Can you explain to me why there is a note for £2 on the account books but no name of what service has been rendered and no date of when the payment was made or who the payment was made to.” Arthur said.



A look was exchanged between Lloyd and John Bridgeman, the Treasurer for the Council of the Marches and Wales-the Council normally met at Ludlow, but since he was in residence here, here was where they met now.



Bridgeman tilted his head ever so slightly, and Lloyd answered. “It’s for the network, Sir.”



“Network?” Arthur asked, was this to do with the game?



“The network of spies that operates in Wales and the Marches for the Council and for Your Highness, Sir.” Lloyd answered.



“And what does this network do?” Arthur asked, this had to be to do with the game. Everything was to do with the bloody game.



“It gathers information for the Council, allowing the Council to make informed decisions regarding governance. It also allows the Council to spread things that we consider necessary.” Lloyd said.



“And what sort of things might that be?” Arthur asked, he had a rough idea, but he wanted it said out loud.



“Rumours, twisted myths, things that can place enemies of Your Highness on a rough footing, disturbing their plans.” Lloyd replied.



“And which enemies might these be? Puritans? Papists?” Arthur asked.



“Both, Sir.” Lloyd answered. “Both are present in the Marches and in Wales, and both needs watching.”



“I see.” Arthur responded. “And why £2? Is that enough to give the network what it needs to do what it needs to do?” Surely not.



“Yes, Sir, it is. There are roughly ten people in the network, and that money pays for them and their sources and anything else they might need.” Lloyd answered.



“I see.” Arthur said, he put the accounts book to one side and asked. “So, what new thing have they learned?” If he was paying for it, he might as well know.



Bridgeman answered then. “There has been a meeting in the north, in the hills, of Catholic groups. They are trying to organise resistance to new proposals being put before Parliament, Your Highness.”



“You mean the proposals that would tighten the fines they need to pay?” John Hampden had proposed that at a session before the Royal Progress had started, the King was considering it just now, if Arthur remembered correctly.



“Yes, Sir.” Bridgeman answered. “It seems that this group believes the fines as they exist now are more beneficial. Whilst they are higher, they are spread out, allowing for chances to slip away.”



“To cheat the treasury.” Arthur snorted. Of course.



Bridgeman nodded. “Yes, Sir. And as such, they are contemplating either filing a complaint in Parliament when it meets next, or doing something more drastic.”



“Such as?” Arthur asked. “Holding the collectors to ransom?”



“Yes, Sir. That and maybe even trying to target you, Your Highness.” Bridgeman said.



Arthur nodded. He shouldn’t be surprised. Caernarvon was a firm defence, but he would need to go out and explore before he returned to London. His wedding was to occur in the summer, roughly around June or July after all. “I see, and what measures are being done to deal with them?” He asked.



“They are being watched, Sir.” Bridgeman said.



“Watched.” Arthur repeated, he wanted to say that was not enough, but he also understood that one could not act without due cause. Until these rebels did something, they would need to be watched. Much as it might frustrate him.



“Yes, Sir.” Bridgeman said.



“I want a man on the inside.” Arthur said.



“Sir?” Bridgeman replied, sharing a look with Lloyd.



“I want man on the inside directly interacting with these people. I want them to trust him.” Arthur said.



He could see that neither Lloyd or Bridgeman really supported what he was saying, so he continued. “I want to control this group. Let them plan and do what they want, but I want to know what it is, how it’s happening and when. And I want to control it.” Perhaps it was ambitious, too ambitious, but he had to try didn’t he?



Lloyd and Bridgeman communicated with one another silently, neither were really saying anything though clearly something was being said between them. Eventually, Bridgeman replied. “It will be done, Sir.”



“Good.” Arthur replied.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 239: Princess Royal​

June, 1629

​

“What do you make of the Princess of Wales, Your Highness?” One of her ladies asked.



Anne, eldest daughter of King Henry and Queen Anna, looked up and found that it was Mary Howard who had asked the question. Anne frowned, it was an unusual question, people didn’t tend to ask members of the family what they made of one another, but she’d known Mary her entire life, and it didn’t feel odd replying.



“I think she is a kind woman and she will be good for Arthur.” Perhaps she might even bring him out of his shell, something that he would need given where they were going.



“Why did the King send them to Wales almost immediately after the wedding?” that question came from Jean Drummond, a girl who was slightly airy in the head, and also one of the most beautiful women Anne had ever seen.



Anne took a breath and exchanged a look with Margaret Hamilton-her closest friend- and then said. “Because that’s where they’re going to be based for a time.” Anne didn’t quite understand it herself, surely Arthur needed to be in London to learn from father? But when she had asked Arthur, all he’d done is chuckle and say that he knew what needed to be done.



“But why?” Jean asked. “What could they learn in Wales? It’s filled with sheep and nothing else.”



Anne Herbert, daughter of the Earl of Montgomery snorted. Anne herself had to hold back a giggle, whilst Jean wasn’t exactly wrong, she didn’t think that Arthur or the King would appreciate hearing those words.



“Who knows, he might come back able to sing one of those songs you so like, Jean.” Mary Howard quipped, which caused Jean to blush. They all knew that Jean had had a thing for Arthur long before any of them understood what that thing was.



Jean sighed then and replied. “It makes no difference; he is a married man now and I am to be married soon as well.”



Anne raised an eyebrow; this was the first she was hearing of this. “To who?”



“Father wants me to marry the Earl of Buchan’s eldest son.” Jean said, in a manner that suggested that she would rather do anything but that.



Anne could understand that she supposed, Buchan’s son was rough. He was tall, handsome-in a similar way to a clansman-and he was also incredibly brash. A complete contrast to Arthur. “And what do you think of that?” She asked.



“I think it is simply dreadful.” Jean replied dramatically. “He is half animal.”



Anne did giggle then. “But think of what that means.” She coloured slightly as she found herself thinking of it as well.



Jean blushed and stammered. “I don’t think it is right to think of someone like that, especially when we are not even betrothed!”



“But you will be, won’t you?” Anne asked. She couldn’t imagine the Earl of Perth allowing such a good opportunity to go to waste, what with the Earl of Buchan being close to both the King and to uncle Charles, who was the King’s man in Scotland.



“I think so.” Jean said sadly.



“Well, at least you won’t need to worry about moving back north to Scotland any time soon.” Anne said, trying to comfort her friend. “The man’s likely going to be helping Arthur for a time.” Jean perked up at that and smiled.



“That’s true.” The girl said.



“And what about you, Your Highness?” Margaret Hamilton asked.



“What about me?” Anne replied, keeping her face blank though she knew exactly what the other girl was referring to.



“Oh, don’t play coy, Your Highness.” Margaret bristled, which drew a grin from Anne, it had always been quite easy to rile up her friend. “We all know that something is going on involving France and that you’re at the heart of it. So, what is it?”



Anne giggled. Normally, she’d tell Margaret off for her tone but this was just too good. Smiling she said. “You’re right, I am at the heart of it.”



Indeed, the King had told her during one of their walks after Arthur’s wedding that he wanted her to know about this before negotiations even started. And truth be told, Anne wasn’t against it. There was no Protestant Prince-apart from cousin Frederick-who was of the right age and rank for her to marry, and truth be told she didn’t want to go to the Palatinate, it sounded awfully dull from what cousin Anne had written. France on the other hand? Now that was somewhere she wanted to go to.



“The French King wants me to marry his brother, the Duke of Orleans.” Anne said, to gasps from across the room.



“He’s so handsome.” Jean crooned.



“He really is.” Anne Herbert agreed.



“And do you want to?” Margaret asked.



Anne raised an eyebrow at her friend. “Why wouldn’t I want to? The man’s handsome and wealthy, very wealthy.” At least from what she’d garnered from the King and from Arthur-who’d also attended the council discussions on this matter.

Margaret shrugged. “He’s French.” Was all she had to say.



“Yes, but he’s the right sort of Frenchman.” Anne replied. Not directly in line to the throne-not with the King having a son-and also handsome, proven to be fertile-he had a daughter around the same age ass cousin Christian-and of course wealthy. What was there not to like?



“True.” Margaret conceded though she didn’t sound too convinced. “When do you get married?”



“Well, the negotiations are ongoing, but with any luck it should be this time next year.” Anne said. At least that was what she hoped. If the marriage didn’t occur by then she was worried where she would marry to. Given how attractive the groom was, there would surely be other options.



“How exciting!” Jean trilled.



Anne smiled, it was exciting, it really was. The nerves she felt at the thought were normal, weren’t they?

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 240: La Rochelle​

September, 1629​

Louis could hear the shouts and yells of the siege camp. For a siege that had been going on for nearly a year maybe more if one included the earlier brief siege, the morale of the men seemed quite high. Whether that was because he was here or because they actually felt confident, he didn’t know. But he did know that the time was coming for this thing to come to an end.



The Huguenots had given good resistance, he would give them that, but they couldn’t hope to hold on for much longer. Not with their food supply having been cut off and their supply of water, wine and ale draining off. Indeed, Louis fully expected there to be riots within La Rochelle before the day was out, once they realised that.



To perhaps speed the process along, he had called a meeting of his commanders, desiring to know more about the state of affairs within the siege and outside.



“Gentlemen,” he began looking around the room and ignoring his brother’s casual arrogance. Gaston didn’t think he was cut out for this sort of life. He would show him. “For a year La Rochelle has served as a beacon of resistance, as a stain on France. We wish to bring it to an end, and quickly. We would hear your suggestions.”



“Blow it up.” Gaston said simply. That was what Gaston wanted to do with everything that he found troublesome. Blow it up.



Louis ignored his brother and looked at the Cardinal who had commanded throughout the siege. “Your Eminence?”



The Cardinal nodded at him and answered. “The walls are strong, Sire, the first few barrages showed that. However, there are weak points. There are three gates that the Huguenots abandoned after the first month of the siege. If we can get to those gates without alerting suspicion, we can bring the army in.”



“And where are these gates?” Louis asked.



It wasn’t the Cardinal who answered, instead it was Charles, Duke of Angouleme, illegitimate son of one of Louis’ predecessors who answered. “On the south, west and eastern sides, Sire. They will be heavily watched though. No doubt the Huguenots will expect us to attempt to breach them.”



That was no good, he wanted the element of surprise. He didn’t want to loudly announce what it was he was doing. “Do you have an alternative?”



“We would need to distract them, Sire.” The Cardinal replied.



Clearly the man was not ready to give up yet.



“How?” Louis asked.

“Your Most Christian Majesty could ask to parley with them.” The Cardinal suggested.



“Parley with rebels? Huguenots at that? Are you mad?!” Gaston exclaimed.



Louis shot his brother a look and then looked at the Cardinal. “Do you think that is wise?” He was all too aware that it could lead to him getting an arrow through the neck.



“I believe it could give us a chance to get men into the town through the gates whilst everyone’s eyes are on you, Sire.” The Cardinal answered.



“And you do not think they will suspect this?” Louis asked. If he were them, he most definitely would.



“Some may, but the chance to hear what you are saying will be too strong to resist.” The Cardinal replied confidently.



Louis considered this. If this was the best way to get things sorted then he would do it, and he’d put his reservations to one side. That was what a King did. That was what his father would do. “Very well, then we shall go for it.”



“Sire?!” Gaston protested. Louis ignored him, keeping his attention on the Cardinal.



“Make the arrangements, I want everyone ready to go by noon.” Louis said.



“Yes, Sire.” The Cardinal said.



“Dismissed.” Louis said, allowing everyone but his brother to leave. He kept his brother pinned to his chair with a look.



Once the others had left, Louis focused more clearly on Gaston. Gaston seemed to have gone red in the face, whether that was because he wanted to explode in irritation or some other reason, Louis did not know, and nor did he particularly care. Instead, he spoke at his brother. “I have received word from London.”



Gaston exhaled.



Louis continued. “King Henry has agreed to my proposal.”



Another exhalation.



“You are to be married to Princess Anne next year.” Louis said.



“You would have me marry a girl?” Gaston demanded.



Louis snorted. “She’s four years younger than you, she’s hardly a girl.”



Gaston floundered, his mouth opened and shut and then he finally asked. “And do you think she will be happy that I already have a daughter? Women don’t like such things normally.”



Louis sighed. “Whether she does or does not I do not care. You have a duty to France and you will do it.”



His brother glared at him, in a manner similar to how he had usually glared at him when they were children. “Will you force me to do it?”



“Yes.” Louis replied calmly.



Gaston exhaled. “Fine, then I will do it.”



“Good.” Louis replied.



The tent opened again at that moment and Charles entered, breathing heavily. “You must come quickly, Sire. The Huguenots have raised the flag of surrender.”



Louis didn’t even bother waiting, he rose and stalked out of the tent. He had to see this for himself.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 241: Essex​

December, 1629

​

Henry Sigismund, Duke of Essex and Fife glanced around and took in his surroundings. Despite the fact that it was December, St James Park was busy. There were nobles walking around with their escorts, wearing warm clothes and occasionally glancing at him, no doubt trying to see what he was doing. There were merchants selling goods-something that he knew Mother disapproved of-and then there were the cleaners who stood off in the distance keeping an eye on everything to make sure no dirt was left behind.



He felt restless. That’s what it was. Arthur had gone off to Wales with his wife, said wife was heavily pregnant and due to give birth at any moment if Arthur’s letters were to be believed. Anne was getting ready for her marriage to the Duke of Orleans in the new year and thus had less time for their fun and games. Which left him. The eldest of the unmarried crop of siblings. He didn’t know what to do with himself.



That was why he’d been so happy when Uncle Charles had asked if he wanted to go for a ride. Uncle Charles always knew how to get him to laugh even when he might not feel like it deep down.



With that in mind, Henry glanced to his right and asked. “Has the park always been this busy?”



“Always.” Uncle Charles answered. “It’s a hub of life.”



“Why?” Henry asked, though he sort of knew why.



“Because we are always here, or one of us is.” His uncle answered, referring to the family. “People flock to where the power is.”



“Power?” Henry replied quirking an eyebrow at his uncle. He was second in line to the throne now, but once his brother’s child was born that would push him further down. “What power do I have?”



His uncle snorted. “You are a member of the Royal Family, whenever you sneeze someone will try and gain something from it.”



“Really?” Henry asked, he didn’t think that could be true, all anyone would get was a cold.



“Really.” Charles said. “People cling to what they think will advance them. And as you are a handsome young man, they will try even more so.”



“So, that’s why all those women have started taking an interest in me.” Henry mused. It had been very odd, before, all the female attention had focused on Arthur, then suddenly, after his marriage, the attention had shifted to him. Indeed, Jean Drummond who’d been infatuated with Arthur had started batting her eyelashes at him!



“So, it’s started, has it?” His uncle asked wryly.



Something about the way his uncle said that made Henry raise an eyebrow. “Did you know it was going to happen?”



His uncle laughed. “I suspected it might.”



“Why?” Henry asked.



“For the reasons I gave you. Once one Prince is off the market, the flies will move to the next available one.” His uncle said.



“Did they do that to you?” Henry asked. His uncle would’ve been ten or eleven when father had gotten married.



His uncle laughed again, eyes sparkling. “Well, not immediately no. But when I got to your age? Yes.”



“How did you handle it?” Henry asked, he was genuinely beginning to think that he should either bed one of the girls to get it out of his system or run away somewhere.



“I got married.” His uncle said.



“What?!” Henry exclaimed. Had it really happened that quickly?



“Married Hedwig a few months after it all started.” His uncle said.



“And did that work?” Henry asked. He meant did it stop the predators.



“Clearly.” His uncle said dryly.



“So, I just need to find someone to marry then.” Henry mused. Not a bad thought but not an entirely pleasing one either. He was still young.



“Your parents will decide that for you.” His uncle said.



Henry groaned. If that was the case, they’d probably marry him off to some fat old woman who’d keep him in line and stop him exploring.



“Indeed, I’ve heard they already have two possible brides.” His uncle added tantalisingly.



This was the first that Henry had heard of this and therefore he leaned forward and asked. “Who?”



His uncle’s eyes no longer sparkled, instead he was all seriousness. “There’s a Medici girl being considered and a Gonzaga girl as well.”



Henry nodded, well, they weren’t bad, Catholic though, which was the only negative thing. Well, that and the fact that the Medici girl was likely a Spanish offering. Spain, that disgusting Kingdom. Filled with rank treachery and Popery.



“If I might give you some advice, nephew.” His uncle said.

Henry nodded.



“The restlessness you are feeling now will only get worse unless you act on it. Find what you are interested in or are good at and do it. Be it playing music, riding, fighting, drinking, do it now, get it out of your system and then be prepared to take up your duty.” His uncle said.



Henry nodded that was sensible advice. “Can I come with you to Scotland?” He asked. He didn’t know when his uncle was heading back, but surely going there could help. The Scots were freer than the Court.



“Yes.” His uncle said without hesitation. “But be aware that you will be made to work.”



Henry smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 242: Denmark Ahoy​

February, 1630

​

The child was born healthy and gave a large cry when he entered the world.



The Mother is also doing well.



Arthur wished to name the child Galahad; it seems he’s been reading too much Geoffrey of Monmouth. However, we were able to convince him against this and instead recommended the name George, for the Garter and for St George. It seems he was agreeable.



Yours



Henry R.



Mary chuckled to herself, it seemed entirely fitting that her nephew would try to name his son after King Arthur’s most loyal knight. George was an interesting name. There had only been one George in the Royal Family before that she knew of, and he had not met a good fate. But it seemed that her brother was convinced that this time around things would be different.



She glanced at her husband, Christian, who was making faces at their children, who giggled happily and smiled. It was odd to her that whilst she had just become a parent, her brother was already a grandfather. She supposed that was what happened when one married as young as Henry had.



She wouldn’t want that fate for her children though. No, let them grow and develop first. There would be time yet for them to marry and have romances.



“You’re brooding.” Her husband said, Mary blinked and saw that he was looking at her now.



“I am not.” Mary replied. Her Danish was still somewhat accented but far less so than it had been.



“What’s that?” Christian asked nodding to the letter.



“From Henry, Arthur and his wife have had a son.” Mary replied.



Christian smiled. “That’s wonderful news. What have they called the boy?”



“George.” Mary said. “Though apparently Arthur wanted to name the boy Galahad.”



Christian snorted. “Why?”



“I think he’s perhaps taken his liking of the King Arthur stories a bit too far. Henry had to persuade him otherwise.” Mary said smiling.



Christian laughed. “Well, that’s something.”

“Indeed.” Mary agreed. “I just…I find it startling that Henry is already a grandfather. He’s only thirty-five!” That was far too young to be a grandfather. Far too young!



“Well, he got married when he was what, sixteen, seventeen?” Christian asked.



“Around then, yes.” Mary said.



“And Arthur is what, the same age?” Christian asked.



“I believe so.” Or he was slightly older, she never could remember when Arthur had been born, she had only been a little child after all.



“Well, there you go then.” Christian said.



Mary sighed. “Still, it’s odd, isn’t it? Henry and Arthur both married so young, but you and I didn’t marry until we were older.”



Christian shrugged. “Different needs and different times.”



“Will our children need to marry quite so young?” Mary asked. She really hoped that they wouldn’t have to. Such a fate seemed cruel.



“I do not know.” Christian said. “It depends on what the King wants.”



Mary sniffed. What the King wanted seemed to be an endless supply of women and wine. Even though he had suffered a stroke a few weeks ago, the man didn’t stop. It would be impressive if it wasn’t so horrifying.



“And will he?” Mary asked.



Christian sighed. “I don’t think so. He’s too busy at the moment and the children are too young.”



Mary nodded then changed the topic. “What has been decided about Sweden?” Christian had told her all about the Swedes and their movements near the border. It seemed the King of Sweden and the Prince of Orange were doing things that were bound to cause war. Which didn’t surprise her, the Prince’s father had died some time back, and this one no doubt wanted to prove himself.



Christian sighed again, and this time his shoulders sagged. “An emissary has been sent to Stockholm to understand what is happening and why.”



“Do you think it will get very far?” Mary asked.



“I do not know. I doubt it. The Swedish King has less reason to listen to reason now than he ever did.” Christian said.



“Why?” Mary asked. As far as she knew, Sweden was still struggling under the weight of their King’s folly from a decade ago.



“The Russians are looking to strengthen their alliance, and it seems the Spanish are looking at reversing their opposition to them.” Christian said.



“But surely that won’t be enough to tip the balance toward war?” Mary asked. At least it didn’t seem so to her. Russia had its own issues and Spain was far away.



“I do not know, but the King suspects it might.” Christian said.



Mary wanted to protest, the King was too busy being a man whore to know anything, but the expression on her husband’s face suggested that doing so would not be welcomed. Instead, she asked the other question that this had raised. “Will you be sent to fight?”



“It is possible.” Her husband said. “The King is not well enough to command in person and a member of the Royal Family must be there.”



Mary nodded. She didn’t like it but she accepted it.



Christian took her hand then. “Nothing may well happen. We can’t know until we know.”



Mary nodded again but already she was feeling uneasy. Something would happen.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 243: Letters​

May, 1630

​

Maximilian, King of the Romans, King of Bohemia and Hungary and Archduke of Austria took a deep breath as he glanced at the letters piled up on the table before him. It was his own fault. He’d been putting off looking at these letters for days now, and they’d just kept piling up. Instead, he’d spent time touring the land and being with his wife and their children and now he had to work.



Sighing, he picked up the first letter at the top of the pile and opened it. Immediately recognising his uncle’s hand, he wondered what bad news the man had sent.



Sire,



I hope that this letter finds you well.



Having completed a visit of the Kingdom I can report the following things:

• The nobles are relatively pacified. They accept their duties to the crown with good grace.
• Some of the nobles want to go on campaign, whether against the Turk or elsewhere I do not know but that desire is there.
• The Protestants are in the retreat.

I will endeavour to continue on reaching the objectives that Your Apostolic Majesty set me before I departed.



Yours



Ferdinand.



Maximilian exhaled. That wasn’t actually as bad as he’d thought it would be. The nobles being pacified was always a good thing as it meant there would be less chance of a rebellion, though the fact some wanted to go on campaign was concerning. There was nowhere to send them on campaign. The peace with the Ottomans held for now, and the Empire was peaceful. He supposed if they wanted to, they could always be sent to Naples to deal with whatever unrest was happening there. Though he doubted that the King of Spain would appreciate that.



The news about the Protestants being in retreat was also very good news. He wanted the Kingdoms to be Catholic, to provide a strong base of support. None of this half-arsed system that his father and uncle had allowed to develop.



He put that letter to one side and picked up the next letter in the pile. It was from his other uncle, Leopold, who he’d left in charge in Vienna.



This letter should be interesting, there was something of his uncle Leopold that really rang the wrong way for Maximilian, what it was he didn’t know, but it was there and it coloured the way he saw his uncle.

Your Majesty,



I write to you with good news.



The Protestants have been forced back and the number of conversions has increased some sixty percent since the last instructions were sent four years ago.



The work is not completed yet, but it shall be done on time.



Yours Faithfully



Leopold



A short letter. A precise letter. But there was something in it that didn’t sit right with Maximilian. Something that was lurking beneath the surface that he didn’t like. What it was, he didn’t know, but it was there and it would continue nagging at him until he found it.



It seemed easy, perhaps too easy for the conversions to be occurring. There was no resistance, no fight, nothing. They were simply occurring as needed. It didn’t sit right with him. Which was a foolish thing to think. But if there was resistance and it was overcome, he could rest assured that it wouldn’t flair up again. But this? This was asking for trouble.



He sighed. There was nothing he could do about it. He’d just need to trust that when things started rumbling, Leopold would act as needed. He put that letter to one side and picked up the third letter. This one had the Imperial symbol on it, which immediately told him what it was going to be about.



He opened it and began to read.



Nephew,



The time is fast approaching where you and your cousin Ferdinand will need to meet to discuss things going forward. I would arrange this meeting now, if I were you. I do not know how much longer I have.



Be aware that France is gaining in strength and is looking hungrily at territory both in the Empire and within the Netherlands.



Be aware also that King Philippe’s attention is moving from Europe to the New World and that he may not be the most useful ally.



Keep your wits about you and never forget that family comes first.



Yours



The Emperor



Maximilian sighed. It was a simple letter, but it rubbed him the wrong way. There were several assumptions there that suggested that his uncle didn’t think he’d been paying attention. He knew about France-he received reports daily about the situation there-he knew about Madrid focusing on the New World. The question was whether Ferdinand would be willing to work with him to keep things balanced. His cousin was a bit of a fool sometimes. Well, a smart one, but a fool nonetheless. What with his pretensions for reclaiming things that had never been his.



He sighed again. He’d need to write that letter to Ferdinand now, so that he didn’t forget.



He looked at the other letters still piled up before him and groaned. He had so much work to do. So much work!