The Dracula Chronicles: Bound By Blood - Volume 2

by Shane KP O'Neill

  Henry’s face slowly turned red with anger. Could Wolsey really have done that to him? The man he had trusted above all others? He recalled at once what Dracula had said when last they met. Dracula had made the same claim or hinted at it at the very least. This new evidence seemed to compound that. Wolsey had betrayed him. For the very first time he believed it.

  He looked Cranmer straight in the eye. “What do you propose?”

  “I would seize upon this moment, my Lord,” he said.

  “The way you meander about annoys me. Come out with it.”

  Cranmer bowed. “Consult with the Doctors of Divinity at the universities around Europe. Ask them to examine the question of the nullity of your marriage.”

  “Why them? Why not you or someone else I know?”

  “It is they who study the Bible and know its true meaning. I foresee beyond any doubt that they will find your marriage should indeed be declared void.”

  “What will it achieve? The Pope will not change his stance.”

  “Then that will expose him and his intentions, my Lord. When the great scholars prove your marriage is illegal. He will be seen to be acting improperly.”

  “Yes, my Lord,” Cromwell cut in. “It will be clear for all to see that the Pope is doing what the Emperor is telling him. Not what he should be doing.”

  “It still changes nothing,” Henry argued.

  “Ah but it does, my Lord,” Cranmer smiled. “You will no longer need the Pope’s approval to divorce the Queen.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “All you will need is for the Archbishop to pronounce you a free man.”

  “Warham can do that?”

  “Well yes, my Lord. But failing this, Magna Carta declares you the supreme authority in England. That puts you above all others, even the Pope. All you need do is declare yourself the head of the Church in England and instruct Parliament to declare the marriage as void.”

  Henry looked to Cromwell, who nodded that what Cranmer said was true. “But the Pope will excommunicate me.”

  “Yes, my Lord. That is true.”

  “I cannot have that. I will be damned for all time.”

  “It will only be from the Roman Communion. Rome has no authority here. You are supreme. What the Holy See says has no consequence in this realm, unless you agree with it.”

  Henry paused. He stopped to think long and hard about what Cranmer had said. It made perfect sense. He was the king. No man should have the power to dictate to him in his own realm.

  “Very well,” he said. “I shall put my faith in you.”

  “What about Wolsey, my Lord?” Cromwell asked quickly. He wanted to strike while the iron was hot. “Surely his praemunire cannot go unpunished?”

  Henry gave him a steely look. It brought a lump to Cromwell’s throat. “You take care of the politics, Thomas,” he said curtly. “I will take care of Wolsey.”

  He instantly dismissed Wolsey as Chancellor. Very soon he forced his old friend to surrender all his estates and possessions to the Crown. Wolsey also lost his bishopric in Winchester and the abbacy of St.Albans.

  Cranmer set in motion the project to consult the universities. He paid a series of bribes and applied pressure by other means. Several of the major universities fell within the Emperor’s domain. He did not consult these.

  Catherine was banished from the palace before the end of the year. They forced her to retire to Richmond. Henry told her that even if the Pope did not rule in his favour he would still have his divorce. It was the final nail in her heart.

  He went on to tell her the Church at Canterbury had more authority than Rome in England. If the Pope ruled against him they would declare him a heretic. The very idea mortified her. But it made Henry free to marry whomever he wanted.

  News of this elated Dracula. He had pulled it off at last. There was no turning back now from the events of the last month. It was only a matter of time. The split between England and Rome would soon be final.

  England. Cawood Castle near York.

  November 1530.

  Dracula took a step back now that Wolsey had fallen from grace. It meant nothing could now put a halt to the events he had set in motion. The other vampires faded into the background with him. He wanted events to take their course, as they were sure to in the days ahead. Varkal and Anya continued to haunt Wolsey each night. In time his health began to fail him.

  The Pope issued a brief in March at Catherine’s request. It forbade Henry from marrying again until Rome had passed a verdict on his marriage. However, the Pope refused to publish it. In April she wrote to Dr Pedro Ortiz, her representative in Rome. She begged him to put pressure on the Pope to find her marriage lawful.

  Cranmer moved fast to counter this. He pushed his full weight behind his project with the European universities. At his behest they studied the Scriptures. In particular he wanted them to look at Leviticus and declare it subject to Canon Law. To this end the Doctors of Divinity combed the libraries of Europe. They added as much weight as they could to the king’s case. Henry rewarded those who found in his favour with large sums of money.

  In spite of this Catherine remained upbeat. Her optimism reached new heights by the summer. News reached her that Anne Boleyn was not popular at court. Her nephew had also made a stand for Catholicism in the German states.

  She saw too how Charles flexed his muscles with the Pope. Despite all the efforts of Henry to invalidate their marriage, the Pope would not waver.

  At this time the Boleyn family came to court. They urged Henry to remove Wolsey from London. He did not want to send him away. Despite all that had come to pass he still loved his old friend. In his heart he still did not believe him to be at fault. Anne knew this and hated it. She advised the king that Wolsey’s presence was an embarrassment to him. Others gave the same opinion.

  Henry knew he had no choice. The political climate demanded Wolsey gone from the scene. But Wolsey’s enemies wanted his blood. His death was all that would appease them. Henry would not give in to such demands. He decided instead to send Wolsey to York to retire.

  Wolsey still held the archbishopric there. He had attained the position in 1514. Despite this he had still not set foot in York. Henry felt it a good time for him to do so. It got Wolsey out of London and away from the public eye. At the same time it preserved his life.

  Wolsey travelled north through the summer. The journey was long and arduous. His age and poor health was not suited to it. It meant he needed to rest many times along the way. He finally stopped at Cawood Castle, about ten miles south of York. It was one of his many homes. But his neglect of it had seen it fall into disrepair.

  Dracula did not learn of this for a time. It angered him that Varkal and Anya had not gone north to tell him. When he did find out he left at once for London.

  Things felt different at the palace. Cranmer and Cromwell had a strong hold there now. They advised the king on every issue. Many of the faces had changed at court. The two men had slowly introduced those they favoured.

  Yet again he found Henry in bed with another of the maids. It made him wonder why he wanted Anne Boleyn so much. It could only be because she continued to refuse his advances. Looking at Henry he realised one thing. The moment Anne gave in to him he would begin to lose interest.

  He waited for Henry to finish. As always the king dismissed the girl once he was done. He then rolled back onto his bed, satisfied and sleepy. Dracula emerged from his hiding place.

  Henry sat up at once. “You were watching me again?”

  “I did not want to interrupt you.”

  “I do not like it that you do that.”

  “Then in future I shall wait outside.”

  “Nevertheless it is good to see you, Vlad.”

  Dracula bowed. “It is good to see you too, Henry.”

  “How have you been?”

  “I am well. My estate offers me peace.”

  “Yes. That sounds good to me. Sometimes I wish I could do the same
as you.”

  “You can do anything, Henry. You are the King.”

  “So you keep reminding me. I seem to get nothing done that I want.”

  “Then perhaps it is time to get tough.”

  “Perhaps it is.”

  “So I see you have sent Wolsey on his way?”

  “Yes. I have sent him to York, well away from here.”

  “Why are you so soft on him?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I imagined his head would have been lopped off long ago.”

  Henry looked mortified. “That I can never do. I love Thomas like a father.”

  “There should be no room for sentiment here.”

  “How can you say that? Thomas served me like no other for years.”

  “He filled his own pockets.”

  “All his estates have passed to me.”

  “That is not the point. He still did it.”

  “Are you looking to vex me?”

  “No,” Dracula said coolly. “It is my task merely to advise you.”

  “And you did. I have made my decision regarding Thomas. It is done.”

  “It is also my place to tell you the truth. Even when you do not want to hear it.”

  “Well if it is about Thomas then you are right. I do not want to hear it.”

  “Then you will be making a grave mistake.”

  Henry rose from the bed. He pointed a finger at Dracula. “I do not care!”

  “Stop thinking with your heart or any other part of you other than your head.”

  His words and his tone angered Henry further. “I did everything you told me and it got me nowhere. For that failure my dearest friend has paid the price.”

  “The failure was due to him. He let you down.”

  “That is what you will all have me believe. But I know better.”

  “Oh wake up, Henry.”

  “Do not call me Henry. That privilege is lost to you from here on.”

  “If I have to make you see sense, I will.”

  “Do you think I care? I do not fear you any more.”

  “Oh, I will not harm you, dear Henry. But the woman you love could always pay the price for your idiocy.”

  Henry’s face burned red with rage. “Do not threaten me, Vlad.”

  “If you let Wolsey live it will cost you.”

  “What does it matter if he lives? He is an old man. His health is failing him. His career is finished. Let him see out his last days in peace.”

  “You will be looked upon as a hypocrite.”

  “Why will I? Why would I even care?”

  “You are having Warham declare you the supreme authority in the land. To make this so you are calling the Pope a heretic. Yet for this to be the case Wolsey has to be guilty of the praemunire. And he is guilty. Yet you allow him to live on. It undoes the basis of everything you are trying to achieve.”

  “Go away and leave me in peace.”

  “If you allow Wolsey to live you will lose all credibility. Think about it, Henry. What matters to you the most? Saving the man who betrayed you? Or looking bad to the rest of the world?”

  “I do not care what anyone thinks.”

  “You ought to care about it. Doing this will send a message that you are acting under a pretence. You have to get rid of him. Even if it ails you. Wolsey has to go.”

  Dracula joined Ilona outside. She had heard much of what the two men discussed from where she waited for her husband.

  “I see that did not go too well. What will you do?”

  “I will give him a little time to do the right thing. If he does not then I will go and take care of Wolsey myself.”

  At Cawood, Wolsey heard one or two stories that had not reached his ear for many a year. They were the prophecies of old Mother Shipton. At one time these stories were folklore all over the land. But Wolsey had long put them to the back of his mind. Now he was close to York people began to speak of them again.

  Mother Shipton was almost as famous in the northern half of the country as the king. She had foretold many things. Some called her a witch. Others called her worse. But no one had ever made an attempt to burn her at a stake.

  Her prophecy of Wolsey was well known. She claimed many years ago that he would never set foot in York. To this day he still had not. It angered him now to hear of it again. People had not forgotten it. His imminent arrival had set the tongues wagging once more. He swore quietly that when he did get there he would see her burn.

  Three men that he knew from the court in London decided to pay her a visit. They were on their way north on the king’s business. When they were within a day’s ride from York the stories reached their ears. The whole legend fascinated them. They wanted to find out if the old woman still lived. If she did they wanted to know what had prompted her to say these things.

  The men were all nobles of high standing. Charles Brandon led the group. He was the Duke of Suffolk. With him rode Lord D’Arcy of Yorkshire and Lord Percy, the Earl of Northumberland. It was his engagement to Anne Boleyn that Wolsey had broken. He had never forgiven him for it. Not a night passed when he did not think of her. Now she was to wed the king. It still hurt him deeply.

  D’Arcy, of course, had long known of the prophecy. But he had not thought of it in years. Percy quizzed him long and hard about it. In the end he agreed he would take them to York. There they would find her, if she still lived.

  He used his contacts in the city. They led him to an alderman named Mr Beasley. He knew of the woman. After stating their intentions he agreed to take them to her house. They waited outside when he called on her. Beasley spoke to her for a moment and then left.

  The old woman stood in the doorway. “Well, you had best come inside.”

  They thanked her, as they entered and doffed their coats.

  “Come and sit around the fire,” she said, welcoming them.

  They did so and accepted her offer of some ale before they talked. She thought about them, as she prepared their drinks. They did not need to introduce themselves. She knew who they were and why they were there.

  The men sipped their ale. They still did not speak. The old lady waited until they were ready. She stoked the fire with a stick. The red-hot coals turned over, exuding warmth that touched them all.

  Suffolk studied her for a time. He observed how she looked and what it was she was doing. Her clothes looked ragged and torn. The hump in her back accentuated this in her appearance. The ravages of time had weathered her face. The longest nose he had ever seen dominated it. He found the hook in the middle a little alarming. It certainly gave her a more striking look. Warts covered her cheeks and chin. Her thinning grey hair hung in long wisps from her scalp. She embodied everything he imagined he might see in a witch.

  She looked up from the fire and directly at him. “You think me a witch, Master Suffolk?” she croaked.

  It took him aback. “How do you know my name?”

  “Please do not insult me, at least not in my own home. I know who you are. I know who you all are.”

  “I suppose that is no great surprise, given your reputation,” D’Arcy said.

  “But I daresay you would not welcome us so if you knew our reason for coming here,” Suffolk added.

  His words brought a smile to her face. She replied barely above a whisper. “Master Suffolk, I do know why you are here. But there is no need for the messenger to be hanged.”

  “Look here,” D’Arcy said, not liking the smugness of her grin. “If you know why we are here tell us what we want to know. Why did you say that Wolsey would never see York?”

  “I never said he would not see York,” she corrected him. “I said he might see York, but he would never set foot in it.”

  Suffolk seized the initiative again. He leant forward and pointed at the old woman. “I should tell you, lady,” he said, raising his tone. “The Cardinal says that once he arrives at York he will have you burned at the stake.”

  Ursula Shipton laughed at the remark.
She did so in a way that unsettled all three men. They watched as she removed the scarf from around her neck and threw it on the fire. Each man looked to the hearth, his nerves a little on edge. They gazed at the scarf as it rested there on the top of the flames. It did not burn. She then threw her walking stick onto the fire too. It refused to burn as well. After a few minutes of stunned silence she retrieved both items again.

  They watched her tie the scarf around her neck once more. Then resting on her stick she looked at them and chuckled. “Perhaps if these had burned I would too.”

  She glanced at Suffolk. When he looked into her eyes she could see the fear of witchcraft that was in all men. Her smile left her face. “One day, dear man,” she said, “you will be as low as I am. And that is pretty low.”

  D’Arcy and Percy quizzed her for a time about what lay ahead for them. Suffolk kept quiet. Once she had answered their questions they left.

  Wolsey spent the evening resting. As usual he could not sleep. He looked around anxiously for the demons that haunted him every night. But Varkal and Anya were not there. He felt relief that he neither saw nor heard them. Of late he had seen them a lot. They terrified him. Why did God allow him to endure such torture? He believed himself a good servant to both God and his king.

  After a time he gave up trying to sleep. He climbed out of bed and donned his scarlet cassock and zucchetto. The cold stone felt like ice beneath his feet. The fire that burned quietly in the room did little to help. He hurried into his slippers and left the room.

  He took the stairs to the floor below. There he hoped to find a member of his staff to engage in conversation. He walked into another room to find many of them gathered there. They fell silent when he entered. But he had heard enough to know they were discussing Mother Shipton’s prophecy again.

  “Do you have anything to talk about other than that damned witch?” he growled.

  “I am sorry, your Eminence,” one of them said. “It makes for an interesting conversation. It will be even more so when you prove her wrong.”