“Where are Rivers and the king?” Richard asked his cousin, surprised not to see them. “I requested they should meet me here.”
Buckingham escorted Richard into the landlord’s private chamber on the first floor and shut the door. The inn must be popular, Richard thought idly, looking about him and noting the velvet bed hangings, Turkey carpet, and a large silver pitcher in lieu of the more commonplace pewter. Buckingham handed Richard a cup of ale and sat himself down on a cushioned stool, leaving the best chair for Richard.
Richard eschewed the seat and the ale and began his customary pacing, which Buckingham found unnerving. “Mayhap he did not get your summons, Richard. Or the king took ill on the way from Ludlow. They will be here, mark my words. If he received it, Rivers would not dare defy your command.”
“I know he left Ludlow six days ago. Ample time to get here, but,” and Richard’s tone was harsh, “when one is dragging two thousand men and cartloads of weapons, it will slow one down.”
“Two thousand? And weapons?” Buckingham expostulated. “Is he looking to do battle with you? I warned you to be careful. We should have mustered more men ourselves. I only brought close to three hundred.” Finding the stool uncomfortable, he transferred his bulk onto the chair. “We should march out and confront them on the road,” he announced. “Bar their way to London. They have no right…”
Richard held up his hand. “And turn the people against me, Harry? Nay, we shall show unity when we all meet. There must be no sign of conflict. Young Edward should be greeted joyfully by his subjects, and I will be the first. Rivers will have no choice but to fall in behind me, and we shall proceed to London and show the citizens, council and parliament that I have already taken on my new role.”
“Let us hope Rivers and his two thousand men agree with you, because…” Harry got no further as the door suddenly burst open and an agitated Francis went down on his knee to Richard.
“Something is amiss, my lord,” he cried, just as Rob and Sir Richard Ratcliffe, both out of breath, followed him into the room. “We have come from seeing to the horses and discovered that my lord Rivers and the king were here yesterday and left. They were making for Stony Stratford.”
“They were what?” Richard bellowed. “On whose orders?” His heart was racing and he felt control slipping. Why had Rivers not stayed in here Northampton and waited for him? It was clear to Richard that unless he entered London at the side of the young king, he might never gain access to the boy. He must secure Edward, and secure him quickly. “Spit it out, Francis, what has happened?”
“We were told that the town was full to overflowing with Rivers’ troops ready to spend the night when the queen’s son, Richard Grey, arrived in a great hurry from London,” Francis, now on his feet, replied. “Soon after, the whole company was on the march south again.”
Richard acted decisively now. “Harry, you and I will ride immediately and catch up with them. You three,” he nodded to Francis, Rob, and Ratcliffe, “make sure our troops are camped here outside the walls at the south end and await my orders.”
As they crossed the taproom to the inn’s entrance, a group of horsemen trotted into the yard and to Richard’s astonishment, Anthony Woodville, Earl Rivers, was at its head. The tall, handsome brother of the queen dismounted and strode up to the doorway as Richard emerged. He gave Richard elegant reverence. “My Lord Protector,” Rivers said amiably, and Richard noted the use of his new title. Perhaps he would not have to fight for it after all. “I bring you loving greetings from your nephew, our sovereign lord Edward. He is tired and has sent me in his place. You must have been expecting me to meet you here, but I doubted the town could hold both our retinues so I moved the king on to Stony Stratford leaving you sufficient room. I trust you approve.”
Almost charmed by the earl, who was known as an erudite scholar, exceptional jouster, and penitent pilgrim, Richard was startled by Harry’s whispered, “Dissembler.” When Anthony smiled at him, Richard was suddenly so reminded of Elizabeth, his stomach knotted and his fists clenched. He wanted to wipe the smile from the supercilious man’s face, but he needed time to think.
“I accept your consideration, but I am very disappointed not to find my nephew here. I was looking forward to greeting him and pledging my allegiance. We had an agreement to meet—here.” He, too, could dissemble, Richard thought as he beamed a beatific smile. “You must agree that, as protector, I should be the one to accompany him to London.” Did he see a flutter of anxiety then? And instead of a pleasant, “aye, my lord,” Rivers’ gaze slid to the earth, and he felt for the rosary always clipped to his belt. The man seemed suddenly nervous. Was he lying? Richard would find out. He decided to test Rivers and detain the man to ensure he did not try and move the king even closer to London. “’Tis too late to return to Stratford now, Anthony,” he said affably. “Why not join us for supper, and Sir Robert here will secure you all suitable rooms for the night.”
Rivers was perplexed. He had orders from the queen to approach London as quickly as possible, but he did not want to arouse Gloucester’s suspicions. He wished he had listened to his nephew Grey’s instructions and not ridden back the thirteen miles to Northampton to reassure the duke. But he could not refuse Gloucester’s invitation now or the duke might suspect the truth.
“I accept with grateful pleasure, Your Grace,” he said, executing a flourishing bow. He beckoned to his squire and, unbuckling his sword in a gesture of conciliation, he turned his back on Richard and murmured a few words to the man as he handed over the weapon. Then, although feeling trapped, he followed the two dukes inside, satisfied they had accepted his explanation.
Supper was surprisingly jovial, with the landlord plying his important guests with the best wine in his cellar. The eloquent Buckingham parried with the erudite Rivers; Francis, Rob and Ratcliffe provided laughter and even a bawdy song. Richard sat quietly at the head of the table, playing with his food, chuckling at the jokes, and occasionally contributing a witticism. No one would have doubted the camaraderie among the diners. Finally, in the early hours of the morning, Rivers rose somewhat unsteadily and declared he was for bed.
“God give you a good night, Anthony,” Richard said pleasantly.
“And t’you, Richard,” Anthony replied and laughed. “I shall shleep like a babe, but I ’spect my snores may d’sturb my fellow guests.”
Richard turned to Ratcliffe. “Go with him,” he murmured, “and see him safely housed and make sure he does not attempt to leave.”
Rivers was led away by Sir Richard and soon strains of a slurred “Summer is icumen” floated up from the courtyard. Waiting until the noise quietened, Richard deliberately removed the wine and cups from the table and made sure the door was firmly closed. Puzzled, Harry, Francis and Rob looked at him expectantly, their focus none too sharp either.
“I do not like our situation,” Richard declared. “Something is awry. For all he seems innocent—and drunk—enough, Rivers is concealing something from us.”
Rob shrugged. “He did not appear ill at ease to me. What can he be hiding?”
Forcing his head to clear, Harry leaned forward and thumped the table. Here was his chance to get back at the hated Woodvilles, who he believed had influenced Edward to keep him from the king’s council. “By the Virgin, you are right to be suspicious, cousin,” he menaced. “He is a Woodville, and not one of them is trustworthy. They remind me of Cerberus—many headed and ready to strike at any who disturb its hellish lair.”
“Anthony Woodville is known for his chivalrous deeds,” Francis retorted. “What was it he said that alarms you, my lord? He has always seemed the least ambitious of the family.”
Richard toyed with his ring. “His ability to mask his ambition is what makes him dangerous, Francis. My brother once told me that Anthony was one of the most intelligent men at his court. An astute politician, Edward said, and widely read. ’Twas why he chose Anthony to guide and govern his heir. I do not trust him.”
; “Nor do I!” Harry blurted. “And if I were you, I would not allow him to come anywhere close to our young sovereign until we are safely installed at Westminster. We should stop him from leaving tomorrow.”
Rob and Francis exchanged a look, both wondering to whom the we referred. In only a day, Richard’s two closest friends had united in disliking the conceited young windbag of a duke. Perhaps it was understandable that they saw Buckingham—with his royal blood—coming between them and Richard.
But relieved that he had someone of his own rank advising him in this crisis, Richard forgot Edward’s unfavorable opinion of Harry and nodded in agreement. The more he thought about Rivers’ odd action, the more it disturbed him. “I believe there is a conspiracy to prevent my joining the king, which can only have come from Elizabeth,” he said. “God’s bones…”
He was interrupted by the sudden entrance of Ratcliffe, who looked pale.
“What is it?” Richard demanded. “Has something happened to Rivers?”
Ratcliffe took his seat and collected his thoughts. “I stayed with him long enough to ensure Rivers was readied for sleep, but then I concealed myself in a niche near his room in case of any attempt to sneak away. Not fifteen minutes later, a man ran up the stairs and entered my lord’s room. In a great hurry, he carelessly left the door wide enough for me to hear him say ‘I have delivered your message, and your nephew, Sir Richard, bids me tell you they will make for London when the cock crows.’”
Buckingham jumped to his feet. “But this is treason.” He turned to Richard. “As protector, you speak for the king. Rivers is directly flouting you. The Woodvilles aim to secure the boy.”
“Calm down, Harry,” Richard said, although his frown increased. “To be fair to Rivers, treason is a stretch. I have not formally been appointed protector by the council yet. But I agree, the Woodvilles conspire to keep the king from me, that is clear. Friends, how do you see it?”
“What I perceive is that you are in grave danger,” Rob warned. “I am inclined to agree with my lord Buckingham about the Woodvilles. If you do not apprehend Rivers now and defend your protectorate, you could risk either civil war or losing your life.”
Losing my life? Richard thought, taken aback. But I am the Lord Protector. Surely Rob exaggerates. But the fear was planted, and Richard’s anxiety mounted.
“Arrest the man!” Buckingham growled. “If you allow him to get word to Stony Stratford again, his troops would turn and massacre us—they outnumber us two to one. Why do you think Rivers brought all those weapons?” Buckingham added, and the others loudly concurred.
Richard held up his hand. “If we are all agreed that there is a plot afoot to prevent my protectorate, then I have no choice but to arrest Rivers and Grey and seize control of my nephew.”
“Now you’re talking,” Buckingham enthused.
Richard rose. The decision was made, putting him back in control. “Then Rob, take an escort and rouse the earl. Hold him here until I send word. The rest of us should prepare to ride before dawn to stop the march south.”
The thirtieth of April was the last night of freedom for Anthony Woodville, Earl Rivers. The more he tried to weakly plead his case with the two angry dukes, the more they became convinced that he was conspiring against Richard. Leaving Rivers under guard at Northampton, Richard, Harry, and a few others rode south to Stony Stratford to head off the king.
Just as the sun rose over the horizon, the six horsemen galloped along Watling Street past the camp followers at the back of the army that was already on the march, scattering the rank and file of soldiers in their path. The cloaked and hooded riders clattered into the market square surprising the group of nobles beginning to mount their horses. One slight rider was already astride a huge gray courser, his good looks, golden-red hair, and noble carriage instantly recognizable as the dead king’s son. Richard was the first to slide out of his saddle, discard his hood, and go down on one knee in front of young Edward. Buckingham followed a few seconds later.
“My liege,” Richard said loudly enough for all to hear. “I am your uncle of Gloucester and lord protector come to escort you to London and to pledge my allegiance to your noble Majesty.”
A gasp rose from Edward’s retinue as they realized who had interrupted their departure. “Gloucester!” Sir Richard Grey hissed to the young king’s elderly chamberlain, Sir Thomas Vaughan, who was bemused by the arrival. He had expected to see Lord Rivers. And indeed so had the new king.
“Where is my Uncle Rivers?” Edward asked, trying to sound imperious. “It is he who was to escort me to London, my lord, on the queen, my mother’s orders.” He hesitated, not knowing what to do without his guardian instructing him on protocol. He decided to bow, knowing his Uncle Richard was important.
The queen’s younger son by her first marriage, Richard Grey, stepped up quickly to take Edward’s bridle and stand between Richard and the king. Good-looking and over-confident, he dared Richard to displace him. “In my uncle’s absence, I am in charge of his grace, my lord,” Grey proclaimed, searching the faces of Richard’s group for Rivers. “I, too, would enquire why Lord Rivers is not with you.”
By this time, word had been passed back through the ranks that Richard of Gloucester had arrived, and soon the marketplace was thick with spectators.
Ignoring Grey, Richard swung himself up easily into his saddle, settled his horse down and addressed the throng. “Loyal Englishmen, as decreed by my brother, our dear late king, I am protector of our new sovereign lord and of his realm. I thank you for your duty and service in escorting him thus far, but it is time for you to return to your homes. His grace of Buckingham and I shall safeguard the king’s triumphant entry into London. Now I charge you all to pledge your allegiance to our new sovereign. Long may he reign.” He turned to Edward. “God save the king!”
“God save the king!” rose from the throats of the thousand loyal Englishmen as they all knelt to give young Edward homage. Richard Grey and his entourage could not but warily follow suit.
“Gentlemen,” Richard instructed Grey and Vaughan, “take me and my nephew back to your lodgings.” He moved his horse close to Edward’s. “Your uncle is safe, but I will explain why we must detain him.”
Edward’s face registered uncertainty and even fear. He did not know his Uncle Richard well, but he knew Rivers very well. One could not blame the boy for wishing his erstwhile guardian there. Richard recognized the boy’s dilemma instantly, and leaning over to him, he patted Edward’s hand. “I see it is a surprise to you that I am to be in charge. ’Twas your father’s wish that I be protector. Your mother and your uncle were fully aware of this royal appointment, yet they did not see fit to tell you, did they?” He saw Grey and Vaughan exchange meaningful looks, which, to Richard, verified their duplicity.
Edward shook his head. “I had not heard. Mother said she would help me rule, with Uncle Rivers and my stepbrother Dorset to help.” He stuck out his chin defiantly. “I am the king, and I want my other uncle to ride with me, my lord.”
Richard took a deep breath; this was not going to be easy. “Let us remove to the inn where we can speak in private,” he coaxed. Then he turned to Rob. “Take Grey and Vaughan back to Northampton and keep them locked up with Rivers.”
Edward protested when he saw his stepbrother and chamberlain removed and guarded, but again Richard assured him it was for his own safety. “What will become of them,” Edward whimpered. “They have done nothing wrong.”
“Ah, but they have, Your Grace,” Richard said respectfully, leading Edward’s horse back to the inn as Rob’s group rode out of the town. “I don’t expect you to understand now, Edward, but they look to their own selfish needs and not for the good of England.” He could not believe how agitated he was, wishing he could disappear as he was wont to do at Middleham. He thought a few quiet moments might calm him. “Please go with my lord Buckingham,” he told Edward, “and I will see you shortly.” He watched Harry put his arm about the young king and lead
him into the inn.
He walked around the side of the building to think. It was only then that he fully comprehended the real danger he might have been in had he not acted quickly. All the stress in his body seemed to shift to his right side and into his crookedness, and he leaned against the wall for support. Why did this all have to be so conflicted? Again he found himself questioning God’s plan for him. Despite his prayers, penances, and generous presents to the church, Richard still felt God’s displeasure every time he was helped into his cleverly fashioned doublets and harness, tailored to hide his affliction in public. Could not this transition of kingship go smoothly? So far, it was hell. Who could blame Richard for believing he was being tested yet again. He kneaded his stiff shoulder and, feeling the bony protrusion under his fingers that had worsened in the last year, he grimaced.
Was the groan he let out then for the pain in his back or for the ache in his heart?
After a small repast, Richard tried to mollify the young king. He first expressed his own sadness at the death of his beloved oldest brother and expressed his deepest sympathies for the loss of the boy’s father. “I was a little younger than you when my father was killed, and so I know what a shock it is to lose a father. Your grandfather York was a wonderful man, and he would have been proud of you, I am sure.” He saw a glimmer of interest in the young king’s eyes. “He taught us that the most important virtue in life is loyalty. Loyalty, by the grace of God, to family, king and country. It is why I chose loyaulte me lie—loyalty binds me—as my motto.” Edward had listened attentively, and Richard was cheered.
“Aye, my lord,” the new king replied, “I have heard say that your loyalty to my father has never been in doubt. I hope I may expect the same from you.” Then he braved, “My loyalty is also to my family, which includes my Uncle Rivers and my two stepbrothers, and after so many years at Ludlow, I have learned to trust my uncle. Although my lord father was the king and so had my allegiance, I hardly ever saw him. Neither do.
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