Jasper (14 page)

‘You think Warwick would turn against York?’

‘He has as good as told me so, Tudor.’

‘Let us first find a settlement with Duke Charles of Burgundy, Your Highness, then perhaps we shall put Warwick’s ambition to the test.’

Late that night Jasper lay awake, recalling the words of Queen Charlotte. She thought it odd he was unmarried, as well she might. In another life he could have married Lady Eleanor Beaufort. She had been a perfect match, from one of the best families, charming, clever and beautiful, yet destiny intervened. He had been obliged to care for Eleanor’s cousin, his brother’s widow, although he would never have married Lady Margaret as, in truth, he always thought of her like a sister.

He thought again of Máiréad, who could have been at his side, if not for his selfishness. He had wanted her with him, even when it put her life in peril. He had truly loved her and still felt the pain of grief when he thought of her. He consoled himself with the thought that somewhere there was the woman he was destined to marry, who would combine the best qualities of them all.

He felt a new conviction that it was his destiny to play a part in brokering peace between France and Burgundy, and then, God willing, to reconcile the Houses of Lancaster and York. He had faced death many times, yet God chose to spare him for some purpose and he could think of none more worthy.

The Wheel of Fortune had turned again, and now he found allies in the most unexpected places. He wondered if he could ever find it within himself to forgive Edward of York, yet unless he did so there could never be lasting peace. It was beginning to look as if Sir Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick could be the key.

Despite all the protracted arrangements, the meeting with Duke Charles of Burgundy at
Péronne
did not have the best start. King Louis summoned Jasper to the rooms provided for him in a fine merchant’s house in the town. To Jasper they seemed grander than the king’s own summer residence, yet the king insisted on staying at the old castle.

King Louis led him to the window and pointed an accusing finger. ‘There, you see?’

Jasper saw the castle, high on a hill overlooking the River Somme. The flags of France and Burgundy flew from its towers, in honour of the meeting, but even from a distance he saw tiles missing from the roof and piles of rubble where stone had fallen from the battlements.

‘I made enquiries, Your Highness. It seems the castle is in a poor state of repair and is used as barracks for the duke’s soldiers and a prison, which is why we’ve been accommodated here.’

‘This is how Duke Charles plans to demean us, Tudor.’
He gave Jasper a look of sudden suspicion. ‘
He treats us like merchants.’

Jasper saw little point in disagreeing with the king. ‘I will explain to the duke’s staff, Your Highness. It should be simple enough to resolve, as long as you have no objections to less comfortable surroundings.’

King Louis continued to stare out of the window. ‘I know you think me petty, Tudor, but you must learn that such things matter.’ He looked at Jasper. ‘We all carry the burden of those who have gone before us. Your father was a servant, yet he was strong willed and married Queen Catherine of Valois. My father was a king yet he was weak. His men murdered the Duke of Burgundy, who trusted to meet him without armed escort. To this day they tar me with the same brush.’

Jasper left to make the arrangements, reflecting on the king’s words. It had not occurred to him they could be in danger. Their escort of some eighty archers were camped on the outskirts of
Péronne,
and of little use if the king was attacked by Burgundian guards, who seemed to be in every doorway. It seemed unthinkable, as the king hinted, that one could be a paid assassin. Duke Charles would express his regret but Jasper could find himself caught up in a conspiracy.

Although he would prefer to remain in the comfortable merchant’s house, he arranged a room adjacent to King Louis in the castle. Damp and draughty, little effort had been made to improve his accommodation. The furniture was a wooden cot with an uncomfortable straw filled mattress and a single, worm-eaten chair. He woke after the first night in
Péronne Castle with the red bites of bedbugs on his skin, yet thought it a small price to pay for his proximity to the king, who could be heard snoring loudly.

As the negotiations progressed, Jasper took on the part of observer and intermediary, carrying messages between King Louis and Duke Charles. The duke refused to forsake other alliances and pledge support to a united France. He also added limitations that would make any agreement worthless. It seemed as if their position was weakening when the meeting was interrupted by a messenger with important news for the duke.

Duke Charles gave the king
a cold, hard gaze.
‘I regret, Your Highness, to inform you that
the people of Liége are rioting. They have murdered the bishop and their governor, my representative.’

‘I’m sorry to hear this, Duke Charles,’ King Louis seemed unperturbed, ‘although I fail to see why it merits interrupting our discussions?’

‘Quite the contrary.’ Duke Charles stood. ‘It is said the instigator of this treachery was none other than yourself. I must therefore insist that you remain in your rooms here at the castle until the truth of the matter has been uncovered.’

‘You are holding me prisoner?’ King Louis slumped in his chair in disbelief. ‘It’s an insult!’

Duke Charles remained calm. ‘Simply a precaution, Your Highness, for your own protection.’

Jasper detected a veiled threat in the duke’s voice and realised the king was right to be concerned. It would be a simple enough matter to contrive a riot in the troubled city of Liége and people would be quick to believe King Louis, with his reputation for intrigue, could be at the root of it. He took on the role of the king’s representative in the investigation and soon established that the allegations were false, as there was no evidence of the king’s involvement.

This seemed to be of worryingly little concern to Duke Charles, who insisted the peace agreement was compromised,
even when the bishop was found to be alive and well, as was the duke’s representative. One of the few people allowed to see the king, Jasper found him in a black mood.

‘I curse the day I ever thought to trust the Duke of Burgundy.’ King Louis paced in his room like a caged beast and waved his fist in the air.

Jasper tried to be conciliatory. ‘It seems, Your Highness, it’s nothing more than a coincidence that the unrest occurred while we are here in
Péronne
.’

The king turned on him. ‘That may be so, but does it warrant my confinement in this castle for three days?’ He sat down heavily and held his head in his hands. ‘How well is this place guarded?’

‘Are you thinking of trying to leave, Your Highness? The duke has men at every gate, and the men we brought are archers, no use in this situation.’ Jasper tried to placate the king. ‘We need to take care not to play into the duke’s hands. We both know you are innocent of any involvement in the rioting at
Liége, yet if you leave it will make it look—’

The king interrupted him, his hands held up in the air. ‘So what should I do?’

‘I suggest we offer to conclude these discussions and remind the duke he has provided us with safe conduct in Burgundy.’

‘Give in to his demands?’

‘If we must, Your Highness.’

‘It’s an outrage!’ King Louis began pacing again.

An idea occurred to Jasper. ‘You could propose that we all travel to
Liége to end the problems there, Your Highness.’

The king brightened. ‘At last, Tudor, a sensible suggestion.’

The forty three pages of the peace treaty between Burgundy and France was prepared and sworn over a fragment of the true cross, supposedly once owned by Saint Charlemagne. King Louis agreed to pay a hundred thousand crowns in reparations to the duke and bells rang out across
Péronne to celebrate. Watched by Jasper and King Louis, and supported by French troops, the army of Burgundy besieged the city of Liége and largely destroyed it on the pretext of quelling a rebellion.

Jasper expected their diplomatic failure at
Péronne to have consequences, yet King Louis placed none of the blame on his shoulders and granted him a pension of one hundred
livres tournois
a month. Duke Charles retained his allegiance with York, on condition it did not harm the interests of France, yet the peace was a fragile one. King Louis would find some clever way to avenge how
he had
been treated by the duke.

Their brush with danger was a timely warning and he sent for Gabriel, who had remained in Queen Margaret’s household to help recruit and train more men for her personal guard. Gabriel arrived with a letter from the queen that confirmed the rumours which crossed the Channel to Jasper and King Louis at Arcis in Champagne of unrest and intrigue in England.

There were many frustrations of Jasper’s long exile, particularly the unreliability of news from England and Wales. Rumours needed to be considered with suspicion, as York could easily spread them to his own advantage. Even the rare messengers, who travelled at great personal risk, could not be trusted to carry entirely accurate accounts. The letter, written in the scholarly hand of the queen’s scribe, only added to his questions.

Queen Margaret praised God she and her son Edward were in good health and went on to explain that Edward of York’s brother,
George, Duke of Clarence, had married Warwick’s daughter Isobel, against Edward’s orders. Jasper knew little of York’s younger brother, although he remembered meeting him once in Westminster and thinking him a drunkard and a gambler. Although he easily saw Warwick’s plan, the latest pawn in his game appeared a far from ideal choice of husband.

It also seemed Warwick’s simmering discontent with his treatment by York erupted into open r
ebellion. In an amazing reversal of loyalty he had mustered an army of two thousand men and seized London, holding the city for some weeks before York won the country back. Jasper read the queen’s letter twice. Signed only with the letter M and bore her royal seal, it offered no clue about what became of Warwick afterwards.

‘Tell me, Gabriel, there must be more. I want you to repeat every detail you’ve heard, rumour or not.’

‘Sir John de Vere, Earl of Oxford, was the latest to arrive from England. He says your enemy Lord William Herbert is dead, sir, captured in a battle near Banbury with Warwick’s men and executed in Northampton, along with his brother Richard.’

Jasper’s mind filled with urgent questions. He had mixed feelings about the execution of his old adversaries by Warwick but a new concern occurred to him.

‘What of my nephew? William Herbert took him to Harlech Castle. I pray he wasn’t with the Herberts when they confronted Warwick?’ Jasper prepared himself for the worst news. ‘Have you heard anything of the fate of Henry?’

‘I’ve not, sir. The queen’s court is full of nobles fleeing from York but there’s been no mention of young Henry.’

Another question occurred to Jasper as he struggled to see the implications of the news. ‘When York regained control, did Warwick escape? Is he dead, or is he in the Tower with King Henry?’

‘It’s said that York was held in Warwick Castle, yet he persuaded Warwick to free him in return for a full pardon. The duke leads a charmed life, that’s for sure.’

‘I do wonder, Gabriel, what kind of hold Warwick has over Edward of York. There must be more to all this than we know.’

He cursed his isolation in France at such an important time for England. ‘I must know what is going on across the Channel. It’s my duty to do what I can for King Henry and my nephew—and I can’t rely on rumours and gossip when they could both be in grave danger.’

‘I could go, sir? I might learn where Henry is?’

‘I would not ask you to, Gabriel. The country is full of York’s spies, watching for anyone carrying messages from Queen Margaret. If they caught you—’

‘I won’t carry any messages, my lord, it would all be safe in here.’ He patted his head. ‘You’ve seen how little interest they take in Irish mercenaries?’

‘I appreciate your loyalty, Gabriel, perhaps there is a way...’ An idea formed in his mind. ‘Lady Margaret Beaufort, Henry’s mother, will make it her business to know what has become of her son. She might even rescue him from Herbert’s household.’ Jasper recalled his last memory of Lady Margaret. ‘She is a determined woman, and her husband has influence.’

‘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.