by Tony Riches
‘How would I find her, sir?’
‘Lady Margaret is married to Sir Henry Stafford. You might be able to find her at her mansion at Woking in Surrey.’
‘I can but try, sir.’
‘Good man, Gabriel.’ Jasper shook his hand. ‘Take care, and find out what you can. If you are able to see Lady Margaret you could kindly tell her I am well, and had no choice other than to leave her son at Pembroke. It would mean a lot to me.’
Jasper busied himself with continuing to act as a go-between, visiting the court of Queen Margaret and returning to the rambling palace of King Louis at Angers, while he waited for Gabriel to return with news from England. It was almost midnight when a messenger arrived and Jasper was roused from his bed for an urgent meeting.
A crackling fire blazed in the hearth and King Louis sat with his favourite hunting dogs, a pair of heavy-jowled mastiffs, looking unusually pleased with himself. For the past few weeks he had been withdrawn, yet whatever news the messenger brought had finally improved his mood. He held a goblet of wine in his hand and a red wine stain graced the front of his shirt. He called out to Jasper as he entered the room.
‘A stroke of good fortune, Tudor.’ He raised the goblet in the air like a trophy.
‘What has happened, Your Highness?’ Jasper rubbed his eyes. He had dressed hurriedly and sensed the months of waiting had finally come to an end.
‘The Earl of Warwick has fled England with York’s brother, the Duke of Clarence and landed at Honfleur. He sent a rider ahead to inform me he is on his way to seek my support.’
Jasper had to think quickly. ‘You intend to agree an alliance with him?’
‘I do, although not, perhaps, in the way he expects.’
‘I expect he wishes to place the Duke of Clarence on the throne and make his daughter Queen of England.’
‘Have you met the Duke of Clarence?’ The king had a mischievous twinkle in his eye Jasper had not seen for a while.
‘I have, Your Highness. He has a poor reputation as a drunk, with morals no better than his brother.’ Jasper scowled at the thought. ‘I would struggle to think of a worse person to have on the throne.’
‘I must agree with you, Tudor. The Earl of Warwick would have done better to choose the younger brother, Richard of York, but I favour a different plan. One which will place me in advantage over the Duke of Burgundy.’
Jasper guessed King Louis planned to insist on the restoration of King Henry, yet there was something about his manner that suggested there was more to his scheming. He watched as the king refilled his goblet with red wine.
‘Your support for Warwick will come at a price?’
‘Of course, although I shall pretend disinterest when he arrives, and tell him to return to England,’ King Louis smiled, ‘after all, I must not break the terms of my agreement with Duke Charles.’
‘So what does he have that you would want, Your Highness?’
‘He wishes his daughter to be Queen of England?’ King Louis didn’t wait for Jasper’s answer. ‘Well, he has two daughters, and my cousin Queen Margaret has a son who is in need of a wife.’ He gave the head of one of his mastiffs an affectionate rub.
‘You will use Warwick’s ambition for his daughters to bind him to the House of Lancaster, Your Highness?’ Jasper stroked his beard as he tried to think through the implications. ‘I find it hard to believe Queen Margaret would ever agree to such a thing. She would rather see Warwick’s head on a stake.’
‘You must bury your dislike of the Earl of Warwick, Tudor,’ the king interrupted. ‘As I must learn to tolerate those bastard dukes of Burgundy and Brittany.’ He put a hand on Jasper’s shoulder. ‘You must help my good cousin to see the virtue of this plan.’
‘I think she could be persuaded, Your Highness.’
‘Good, good. Your reward will be to see King Henry back on the throne, with Queen Margaret at his side, and your title and lands in Wales returned.’ He clapped his hands for servants, despite the late hour. ‘We must prepare this dog’s kennel of a palace for our visitors. I shall order a banquet, to celebrate this sudden change of fortune.’
It was a weary and humbled Earl of Warwick who arrived at the palace, accompanied by his family and the Duke of Clarence. Like Jasper, Sir Richard Neville had lost everything except what he had been able to carry, and must place his future in the hands of King Louis. Despite his long journey, he was keen to get to business. King Louis set out his plan and while Warwick soon saw the advantage of it, his new son-in-law, George, Duke of Clarence, stormed from the meeting, cursing.
Jasper was concerned to learn that Warwick’s eldest daughter Isobel had lost a child, born at sea during the voyage, and still looked deathly pale, her dress torn and fixed in place with pins. Warwick’s other daughter Anne seemed barely more than a girl yet was excited at the prospect of marriage to the future King of England and wanted to know from Jasper what he was like.
‘He is tall and handsome, my lady, and would surely be seventeen years old now.’ Jasper refrained from adding that the prince was also an arrogant young man who seemed to have learned little from his tutors since arriving in France. Anne’s mother, Countess Anne, was less enthusiastic and regarded both King Louis and Jasper with deep suspicion. He could see she had suffered great hardship since they last met, at a royal banquet in the great hall of Westminster which seemed a lifetime ago. The countess had been the envy of the other ladies with her extravagant dresses and glittering jewellery. Now she appeared on the brink of a breakdown, her silk gown stained and creased, her face lined with worry for her family.
King Louis ordered a grand jousting tournament as part of the celebrations and arranged for Jasper to be seated next to Countess Anne. This was no accident. He had been left to win her over to their cause and now she regarded him with sad brown eyes.
‘Tell me, Sir Jasper. Does Queen Margaret support this marriage of my daughter to her son as keenly as King Louis?’
‘In truth, my lady, she has yet to learn of it.’ He saw her eyes widen in surprise and felt he should explain. ‘I am here as her ambassador, so I must leave in the morning to inform her of these developments.’
A trumpeter announced the start of the tournament to a cheer from the crowd of onlookers. Mounted knights rode in on gaudily caparisoned horses and saluted the king by raising and lowering their lances. As they made their way to the lists, Jasper saw King Louis was deep in conversation with Warwick.
He also noted one of the jousters wore the colours of Duke Charles of Burgundy, while another displayed the crest of Duke Francis of Brittany on his shield. King Louis had contrived to pitch the representatives of his great rivals against each other for his entertainment.
At the command from the master of the rolls, both knights lowered their visors and charged, bringing down their lances in a juddering clash as they met. There was applause from the crowd as the tip of the Burgundian’s lance broke on impact. Both knights were handed new lances and turned to prepare for a second run. This time the Burgundian, a skilled jouster, struck the Breton full square, his lance shattering and unseating his opponent, who crashed heavily to the ground and lay still. For a moment Jasper thought the Breton was mortally wounded, then he raised his visor and lifted a hand in salute to the victor.
The Countess of Warwick was more concerned with watching her husband’s discussion with the king and shook her head. ‘You seem to trust that man, yet my instinct tells me to be cautious.’ She spoke softly, as if to herself.
‘I should tell you, my lady, it was King Louis who persuaded me to set aside all that has gone before and place my trust in your husband.’
‘And you have?’
Jasper nodded. ‘He has agreed to risk his life to see King Henry restored to the throne, so can rely on my complete support, as can you, my lady.’
The countess didn’t reply but for the first time Jasper saw a faint glimmer of hope in her sad eyes.
At the banquet that followed the jousting Jaspe
r found himself seated next to Queen Charlotte. He noticed how she observed their guests closely yet with no sign of judgement. He leaned across to her and spoke in French.
‘I understand you will soon be leaving for the Château d'Amboise to enter your confinement, Your Highness.’ He smiled. ‘With God’s grace I hope all will be well for you and the child.’
Queen Charlotte returned his smile. ‘That is most kind of you, Sir Jasper.’ She eyed him conspiratorially. ‘This time it’s another boy, an heir for the king. We shall name him Charles.’ She caressed her hand over her swollen middle, grown so large she could not sit close to the table. ‘A mother knows these things.’
Jasper recalled King Louis telling him their first son barely lived two years. He raised his gilded goblet of wine. ‘Your son is destined to one day be a great king, Your Highness.’
‘I pray you are right, Sir Jasper,’ she crossed herself, ‘and you will soon be returning to the court of Queen Margaret of Anjou?’
He glanced across to where Warwick was enjoying a joke with King Louis as if they had always been great friends. He saw Countess Anne looking in his direction and was pleased to see her nod to him when their eyes met, the briefest of gestures yet a sign he understood.
‘I must persuade Queen Margaret to embrace your new guests, Your Highness. The future of England depends on it.’
Queen Margaret stared at Jasper in tense, stern-faced silence as he gave her his account of all that happened in Arras, including the arranged marriage. He’d rehearsed his words many times on the long ride from Angers, and prepared himself for her angry reaction.
‘King Louis summons me now, after all this has been settled?’ She glanced at the empty chair at her side. The prince chose to go hunting in the woods rather than wait to hear the news Jasper brought.
‘I can assure you his intentions are honourable, Your Highness. We’ve been searching for a way to win his support, and now he is asking for yours.’
‘I think, Sir Jasper, you have been at the court of the universal spider for too long.’ She spoke in French and her tone was harsh.
He tried not to show his dislike of her use of the king’s nickname. ‘I’ve done my best, my lady, to promote our interests. This offers the best opportunity, perhaps the only opportunity, to restore King Henry to the throne.’
‘You trust Warwick?’ It was more of an accusation than a question.
‘You will find the Earl of Warwick much changed by his reversal of fortune, my lady.’
‘I will never trust a man who put my husband in the Tower of London.’ She stood, her eyes blazing at him. ‘Do you forget so easily the pain and misery that man has brought upon my family?’
‘I do not forget, Your Highness.’ He needed to find a way to calm her. ‘I too have suffered because of his actions, and know many good men who gave their lives for our cause, yet I must find it in my heart to forgive him, for the greater good.’
The sincerity in his voice seemed to have the desired effect and she sat down, looking close to tears. ‘His daughter is the last person I would choose as a wife for my son. He should marry a princess, not the second daughter of an earl.’
‘His daughter Anne is personable, my lady. She is young and pretty. I think she would be to the liking of the prince.’
‘You went to the court of King Louis to see if we could turn Warwick’s disloyalty to our advantage.’ She seemed to be wavering for the first time since Jasper broached the subject. ‘Your counsel is this marriage must take place?’
‘It is the surest way to bind Warwick to our cause, Your Highness.’
‘I will see this girl for myself, and you shall tell the Earl of Warwick he must bend his knee and beg my forgiveness.’
Queen Margaret wore a gold coronet and her royal robes, trimmed with ermine, for the meeting with Warwick at Angers, and sat flanked by Jasper to her left and her son, Prince Edward to her right. Both wore fine new armour, gifts from King Louis, with the gold-plated fleur-de-lis of France emblazoned in the centre. Jasper watched as Warwick approached, walking stiffly and trying to retain as much of his authority as he could.
Warwick bowed on one knee and waited for Queen Margaret to command him to rise before looking into her face.
‘I hereby pledge my loyalty, Your Highness.’
Jasper saw the queen tense, pausing for an uncomfortably long time before she replied. ‘You swear to restore King Henry to the throne?’
‘I swear, Your Highness. I will not rest until he is once more King of England.’ The conviction in his voice echoed in the room. He touched his lips to her offered hand and stood tall, with a little of the confidence Jasper had once seen.
The next morning a sharp knock at Jasper’s door announced the return at long last of Gabriel, and he saw immediately from his friend’s expression that the news he brought was good.
‘It proved quite an adventure, sir.’ Gabriel gratefully drank from the goblet of red wine Jasper offered him. ‘England is in a proper confusion. Neighbour against neighbour, a good time for an Irish soldier of fortune.’
‘Tell me, Gabriel,’ Jasper tried to hide his impatience. ‘My nephew Henry is alive and well?’
‘He is, sir,’ Gabriel grinned, ‘yet he took some tracking down. You were right about Lady Margaret Beaufort, sir.’ He took another sip of wine, nodding in approval. ‘She has been to visit her son, who is well and living in Hereford under the protection of a Squire Corbet, the husband of a relative of Lady Herbert.’
‘You gave her my message?’
‘That I did, and she asked me to inform you that she remembers you in her prayers, sir.’
Jasper crossed to his window and stared into the courtyard while he composed himself. Lady Margaret would understand it could have cost him his life if he’d not escaped from Wales when he did.
‘Did you travel to Hereford to see him for yourself?’
‘I did, sir. He is older than I expected, some thirteen years now. The squire asked me to convey his promise to keep him safe.’
‘You’ve done well, Gabriel, although I regret I have bad news for you.’
Gabriel’s smile faded. ‘What is that, sir?’
‘I am returning to Wales once more, and wish you to accompany me.’
Chapter Fifteen
September 1470
The dawn sunrise glinted with amber and gold from the sails of a fleet of ships that stretched for as far into the distance as Jasper could see. He’d dreamed of this day and been told at least sixty ships had departed Normandy, escorted by the admiral of France. Each ship was filled with as many men and horses as they could carry on the crossing to the English coast.
Ahead of him in the flagship sailed Warwick, his son-in-law, George, Duke of Clarence and the Earl of Oxford, Sir John de Vere. The number of ships and men to be landed meant half the fleet would sail on to land at Plymouth while the rest would land at Dartmouth, where Jasper planned to head for Wales with Gabriel to raise a Welsh army. Warwick would lead the march on London, gathering men on the way.
Queen Margaret had decided to remain in France with her son and his new bride until it was considered safe for her to return to England. Jasper had been frustrated by the delay, as they needed to wait for a papal dispensation to be delivered from Rome before the betrothal of young Anne Neville and Prince Edward could take place. Queen Margaret seemed to accept her new daughter-in-law with good grace, yet Jasper predicted she would find a way to end the marriage soon enough.
A new danger lurked as they were about to depart, when the Burgundian fleet was sighted, waiting like a pack of hungry wolves for them to leave port. The Earl of Warwick swore they were keeping watch on behalf of their Yorkist allies. With typical bravado, he wanted to lead an attack on the fleet and use his cannons to blast them from the water, but nature intervened when a sudden storm blew the Burgundians safely up the Channel.
Gabriel declared this a good omen for Lancaster as he picked his way through the men who occupied every s
pace on the deck, some sleeping, others gambling their pay with games of cards and dice. His mail shirt, made by craftsmen from thousands of riveted iron links was paid for by Jasper in thanks for the years of loyal service. The mail would protect him from most arrows and sword blows, although it was clear from the way he moved that it would take him a while to become used to the weight of it.
Jasper also commissioned new swords for them both, well-balanced with blades of fine artisan steel. More than simply weapons, the swords were a sign of status and could hold an edge sharp enough to shave with. Jasper’s own was also engraved with his martlet badge, which his father once told him represented his quest for knowledge, learning and adventure.
‘Message from the captain, sir. We should arrive in Dartmouth close to midnight.’
‘Good. How are the horses?’
‘Settled well, sir.’ Gabriel studied the waves. Although the sky was as grey as slate the water was calm enough, with a promising breeze in their favour. ‘These conditions have helped, although they’ll be glad to see dry land again.’
‘As will I. We have quite a ride to Wales, Gabriel, and I’ve no idea if we’ll meet opposition on the way.’
‘York could be waiting to give us a warm welcome?’
Jasper smiled. ‘God is with us, Gabriel. Warwick’s brother Sir John Neville has contrived a Lancastrian rebellion in the north to keep Edward of York and his army far from London until it’s too late.’
‘Surely York will see this diversion for what it is?’
‘Let us pray he does not.’
‘You think Sir John remains loyal to York?’
Jasper smiled to himself, Gabriel knew him well. ‘I trust Sir John Neville will not rebel against his own brother. Even if he does it will be too late, for he will find his men all wear the bear and ragged staff badge of Warwick under their coats.’
They always understood it would be impossible to make the crossing in secret with so many ships, so Jasper hoped making landfall in darkness should give his men a fighting chance. Once in Wales he would soon find enough supporters to remain there in relative safety, at least until they received word from London of Warwick’s success or failure.
