The Lost King

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The Lost King Page 2

by Alison Prince


  ‘Well – yes.’

  I blush a little to think of it. Elizabeth and the King were here not long ago, and he could hardly keep his hands off her, though she is hugely pregnant just now. But she is fabulously beautiful, with that blonde hair and sleepy, inviting eyes. At the evening meal, they were so taken up with their exchanged glances and laughter and touching of hands that food hardly mattered. They’d barely have finished their main course before Edward would push his chair back and lead her up to their bedchamber, dessert left untouched on the table.

  ‘Elizabeth was more than willing to exchange kisses and caresses,’ Annie goes on, ‘but any more than that, she went all prim. Said the joys of her body were only for the man who would marry her. It drove Edward mad. He wasn’t used to being thwarted.’

  ‘So he gave in.’

  ‘Yes.’ Annie looks thoughtful. ‘Maybe she promised to go on being his little secret – who knows? But the minute the ring was on her finger, she demanded her rights as the Queen of England. Next thing, Ludlow Castle is full of her relatives, all of them with peerages and high office. As you may have noticed.’

  ‘Like Earl Rivers?’

  ‘He was the first, but there are dozens more. Everyone in this court is either a Woodville or a Woodville supporter. Even Dr Alcock, though he tries to keep it quiet.’

  ‘What about Uncle Richard?’

  ‘He loathed the Woodvilles. Still does. But he had to keep the peace for Edward’s sake. If you ask me,’ Annie adds, ‘he’ll be glad to get away to Yorkshire, out of it all. People up there love him. They say he is a fair ruler – listens to complaints and requests. Clarence is still here, though, stirring up trouble.’

  ‘Who is he?’

  ‘Richard’s elder brother. George, Duke of Clarence. He’s so furious about Edward’s stupid marriage, he’s been conspiring against him with Warwick ever since.’

  ‘Warwick? You mean, he changed sides again?’

  ‘Yes. The marriage with Elizabeth wrecked his plans, so he rejoined the Lancastrians. And spread rumours that King Edward had no right to rule because he was illegitimate. Said he was the bastard son of an archer called Blaybourne.’

  ‘Annie!’ I’m shocked. ‘Is that true?’

  ‘Heaven knows. But anyway, Warwick and Clarence led a Lancaster army against Edward, and won. They took Edward prisoner. Warwick suggested he himself should wear the crown, in Edward’s place. But the public wouldn’t have that. They threatened rebellion, so Parliament released Edward and said he must go on ruling.’

  ‘Did Edward imprison Clarence and Warwick?’ I ask.

  ‘No,’ Annie says. ‘You won’t believe this, but he offered them friendship. Said they should write the whole thing off as a misunderstanding and work together in the future.’

  ‘After they’d tried to kill him? But why?‘

  ‘Strange, isn’t it.’ Annie eyes me carefully, as if wondering how much to tell. When she goes on, I don’t know what she’s decided. ‘Clarence and Warwick were still working for Lancaster. They went to Margaret of Anjou, old King Henry’s wife, who was back in France, and asked her to give them an army, so they could help restore her husband to the throne.’

  ‘And did she?’

  ‘Oh, yes. She never gave up fighting for what she saw as her rights. There was a tremendous battle. But Edward and Richard won.’

  ‘Uncle Richard? Did he fight as well?’

  ‘Yes. He was only seventeen – his first battle. There were more. At the last one, Warwick was killed. Clarence knew he was beaten, so he came to Edward and apologised.’

  ‘Was that the end of it?’

  Annie sighs. ‘Will we ever see an end? But at the time, it was the end of the Lancasters. King Henry and Margaret of Anjou’s son died in that same battle and he’d been heir to the throne. He was married to Warwick’s daughter, Anne Neville.’

  ‘But she’s Uncle Richard’s wife! Was she married before, then?’

  ‘Yes, but not by her choice. She and Richard had loved each other since they were children, but her father betrothed her to mad Henry’s son – the future king. A far better catch than Richard Crookback, youngest of four brothers.’

  ‘But after the battle, Anne was free again,’ I say, wanting some good news in all this. ‘A happy ending.’

  ‘Not yet. Clarence knew Anne had inherited masses of land and wealth, so he said he was the elder brother and Anne must marry him, not Richard. Oh, what a quarrel there was! It went on for weeks. Richard was desperate to marry Anne. But Clarence tried to steal her by force. She escaped from his house disguised as a servant girl.’

  ‘Heavens!’

  ‘Edward had to give a judgement, as the King. He ruled that Anne would be Richard’s wife and Clarence could marry her older sister, Isabel – with a share of the wealth and estates.’

  ‘So everyone was happy.’

  ‘Not quite. Margaret of Anjou had lost her son, her only child. And her husband – ’

  Annie’s face clouds.

  ‘Her husband?’ I prompt. ‘Mad old Henry?’

  ‘It was terrible, Lisa. Henry had been in the battle, though I doubt if he knew what was going on, poor man. Edward took him prisoner, and there was a great banquet in the Tower of London to celebrate the victory. Later on, when the King and Queen had gone to bed, we heard Elizabeth shouting in their room. Edward had said he was going out, and she was furious. She wanted to know what could matter to him more than his wife, after so long away. But he wouldn’t tell her. He just said there was something he had to do.’

  ‘What was it?’

  ‘Next morning, the guards found old King Henry dead in his prison cell.’

  ‘You can’t mean – ’ I’m aghast. ‘Edward wouldn’t do that. It must have been someone else.’

  ‘Henry was in the Tower, Lisa. Portcullis at the drawbridge, cannon all round the battlements, armed soldiers everywhere. Who else could have walked in there, unchallenged?’

  Annie takes a breath.

  ‘Who else could have had the key?’

  I feel cold to my bones.

  A brother for Edward

  17th August 1473

  The Queen has had her new baby – and it is a boy, a little brother for Edward! Everyone was hoping for a boy, so there are great celebrations. Edward has two elder sisters, and the baby born last year was a girl as well, but she died within a few days, poor little thing. This baby prince is strong and healthy, and his name will be Richard of Shrewsbury.

  ***

  Tom Owen was in the hayloft this morning, eating an apple and sheltering from the rain, when he heard Clarence come into the stable below him with another man. Tom kept as still as a mouse, and heard every word they said. They were planning a new attack on the King. I said Tom should tell Earl Rivers, but I know he will not. Some things are too dangerous to meddle in.

  Tom is like my father in many ways. Though he is not a doctor, he is skilled and careful, with strong hands that can haul a tree root from the ground or nurse a tender seedling. I like his curly brown hair and dark eyes and his straight white teeth. He likes me, too, but I must not fall in love with him. When Edward’s new brother comes here, there will be more to do, not less – and royal children do not find much love and laughter except with the servants who care for them.

  ***

  It is 1475 now. And I have been to London! For a few days, young Edward had to be his father’s deputy while the King went to France. It seemed there was going to be a war, but they signed a treaty, thank goodness, so we are back at Ludlow now.

  It was a lot to ask of a young child. Edward tried his best to be grown up, but he often looked strained and worried. The Queen was running everything, but whatever she did had to be agreed by Edward on the King’s behalf. A pantomime, but a serious one.

  Edward will go on living at Ludlow until he is fourteen. I am glad of that, and hope they will not call on him too often to perform these state duties. It is good to be back here. I never thought thi
s castle would feel like home, but compared with the crowded, dirty city, it is tranquil and familiar, if not exactly welcoming.

  1st January 1477

  The Duke of Clarence, Uncle Richard’s older brother, has been imprisoned in the Tower. Tom never told anyone about the conversation he overheard, but the King found out somehow. Although Clarence has been so treacherous, I can’t help feeling sorry for him. His wife, Isabel, died three days before Christmas after giving birth to a baby son and today the baby died as well. The two older children are going to live with Uncle Richard and his wife, Anne. She is their aunt, and she only has the one son. People say she is not well, but I expect their servants will take good care of the children.

  9th November 1477

  We have been to London again. It was Edward’s seventh birthday last week, so there was a state banquet to celebrate it. He had to play the host. He did it beautifully, dressed in silk and velvet, with a coronet on his curly head. The King and Queen were there, and countless notabilities, including Uncle Richard and Anne with their own son and Clarence’s son and daughter. Rivers was there, and Dr Alcock, and Elizabeth Woodville’s grown-up sons from her first marriage, and countless other Woodville relatives.

  Rivers has translated a book from French into English. It is called The Dictes and Sayings of the Philosophers. William Caxton, who was at the banquet as well, is going to print it. Caxton has been abroad in Bruges, learning about wonderful new machines that that can make copies of a book in great numbers. He came home to set up a printing press of his own, and the book translated by Rivers will be the first ever to be printed in England. So that was another cause for celebration.

  15th January 1478

  We have been to London yet again. This time I saw more of Edward’s little brother, Richard. He has the same fair, curling hair and angelic face as Edward. It is planned that he will come to join us at Ludlow later this month, for he is almost the same age as Edward was when I first saw him. Far too young, I thought, for the ceremony we had to attend. At barely four years old, he was being married to Anne Mowbray, daughter of the Duke of Norfolk. She is just six, a slender little girl with a pale, serious face and a mass of red hair escaping from a coronet that looked too big and heavy for her.

  These royal children are like puppies traded between dog breeders for their future potential. I don’t like to see them pushed into such use when they are hardly more than babies, but that is how the strange world of these privileged people works.

  ***

  Little Prince Richard is with us now. He is a gentle boy, less serious than his older brother, perhaps because he is not burdened by knowing he will one day be the king. I am doing my best to ensure that we settle down together comfortably as three instead of two. I take care that Edward shall have no cause for jealousy, or that Richard shall feel left out, and they seem to get on very well together. Edward enjoys his superiority, knowing the Castle and everyone in it, but he is very sweet to his little brother.

  Neither of the boys has the solid build of their massive father. With their slim build and fair hair inherited from Elizabeth, they look like those paintings of angels on cathedral walls. When I see their two golden heads together, talking or engrossed by something they are playing with, it fills me with delight.

  Edward is taking great pride in helping his younger brother to improve his reading – and it is not difficult, for Richard is a clever child and learns very quickly. They have occasional arguments, but they are great friends. For me, it is fascinating to watch them grow and learn. The days spent with them are a constant joy and they are going to be such fine young men.

  Trouble brewing

  18th February 1478

  The King and Queen are here, visiting their sons. I should not say this, but I wish they had not come. Wherever she goes, Elizabeth Woodville brings constant demands and unrest. This morning’s episode was typical. We heard her shouting at Edward in their royal bedchamber, which is close enough to our room for the boys to hear every word.

  ‘George is a traitor, Edward. You know he is. Everyone knows. How much longer are you going to wait?’

  The King said coldly, ‘The Duke of Clarence is no concern of yours.’

  But she ranted on.

  ‘He is everyone’s concern. It is outrageous that – ’

  I began to talk loudly about something trivial, trying to drown her words, but Edward held up his hand to hush me. He is nearly nine now, and has a natural authority that cannot be ignored. So I fell silent, and Elizabeth’s furious voice was terribly clear.

  ‘Your brother has been guilty of treason a hundred times over. If he were a common man you’d have sent him to the block years ago and thought nothing of it. Why should he be favoured and escape execution? People are saying you have lost your courage.’

  ‘That is not true. You know perfectly well – ’

  But she cut through his words.

  ‘Are you admitting that you love your treacherous brother more than you love justice?’

  The King’s voice was quiet and angry. ‘Elizabeth. You know the reason.’

  ‘That old tale? Pah! Of course I know – who better? Why are you worried? We can deal with any troublemakers – you have the power. But you must use your power, Edward. I am sick of your cowardice and dithering. Whose side are you on – George’s or mine? Make up your mind, before he makes it up for you.’

  The door slammed, and we heard the clacking of her high-heeled shoes as she ran down the stairs.

  Richard’s face was white and his lips were trembling. I tried to take him on my lap, but he pulled away. Edward had more sense. He spoke to his little brother cheerfully.

  ‘Grown-ups have arguments sometimes. Don’t worry about it.’

  He reached for a knitted stocking and slipped his hand into it, then wriggled it towards Richard.

  ‘A big snake coming to get you,’ he said. ‘Ssssssssssss!’

  Richard began to fend the woolly snake off and laughed, unwillingly at first.

  Edward looked at me over the top of his head as he went on gently buffeting his brother.

  ‘My mother is right, Lisa,’ he said. ‘The King has to show his hand.’

  He never calls his father Papa, just the King. I did not know what to say. All I know is, I am full of fear.

  ***

  The boys are outside, doing their sporting activities. I am in the kitchen, helping Annie to pluck chickens and telling her about the Queen’s tirade this morning – but the door bursts open and men from the royal guard come clattering in. They are red-faced and excited, laughing yet somehow shocked.

  Annie’s brother is one of them. She asks, ‘Jack, what’s happened?’

  ‘The King’s brother,’ he says. ‘The Duke of Clarence. Arrested, tried, condemned to death. We’ve just escorted him back to the Tower.’

  ‘He’s been asking for it for years,’ Annie says. ‘Sit down, you lot, you’re making the place untidy.’

  She goes over to the barrel of ale in the corner and starts filling mugs.

  ‘Lisa, hand these out.’

  The men are unbuckling belts, undoing tunics, dumping their swords and scabbards on the floor, pulling out chairs, sitting down. Laughing, clinking mugs together, shoving the chickens out of the way so feathers fly around. It’s going to be a party.

  ‘What are they going to do with him?’ Annie asks after a bit. ‘They can’t hang the King’s brother like some common criminal.’

  ‘Special treat,’ Jack says, grinning. ‘Big privilege. They’ve said he can choose how he wants to die. Got to make up his mind by tomorrow morning. Cheers. Here’s to justice.’

  ‘Here’s to justice!’ they chorus, clinking mugs again. Ale slops over. The serious drinking begins.

  ***

  We know now how Clarence chose to die, although Annie reckons it was someone else’s choice, not his. They found his body in a huge barrel of red wine. So Annie is probably right. He was helped, as she put it.

  T
here are a lot of people in the kitchen again, not soldiers, just the servants who work here. This is our natural meeting place when something has happened.

  ‘Clarence always liked a drink,’ a man says, and everyone laughs.

  Annie says, ‘I hope they don’t chuck it away just because he’s been in it. Malmsey’s a lovely marinade for venison.’

  I find it hard to join in the merriment. Perhaps because my father has compassion for those who die, I’m appalled by what has happened. The luxurious life of this castle has shown a nasty underside, like turning over a dead bird and finding it full of maggots. For the first time in all these years, I almost wish I had gone home with my father and stayed there, that day when Edward fell from his pony.

  Too late now. Conflict and betrayal and killing are part of the way these privileged people live. As well as caring for the boys and keeping them happy, I may need to protect them, though I do not know from what or whom.

  21st November 1481

  Anne Mowbray, the little girl who was married with such ceremony to Richard two years ago, died last week. So the dog-breeders will have to pick a new bride to mate with their pedigree prince. I think of her white, serious face and wild red hair, and grieve for her. Increasingly often these days, I wish I could take my lovely boys away from this mad place and let them grow up as I did, in a simple house where we worked hard and did nothing to harm anyone.

  Shock

  14th April 1483

  I cannot believe it. King Edward died five days ago. The messenger who came would not speak to any of us until he had given the letter to Earl Rivers, who came when summoned, looking a little irritable at the interruption to his writing.

 

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