Rebellion (26 page)

He spoke so quietly that Clarence could
hardly make out the words, but he said, ‘I'm surprised your majesty has time to listen
to rumours.'

‘Concerning you,' the king said, ‘and the
Earl of Warwick.'

‘You should not listen to rumours,' Clarence
said.

‘That's why I've brought
you here, so that you can speak.'

Clarence looked at the king's hands, which
were studded with rings. They lay passively on the table, next to the rich gold of the
goblet. Clarence himself was a little stained by his journey with mud and dust. He felt
unclean.

‘What rumours have you heard?'

‘I have heard that the two of you have had
many conferences together.'

‘Conferences?' Clarence said, looking now at
the carved lions behind the king's head. He had the odd sensation that he was talking to
them. ‘He is our cousin. May we not speak?'

‘That depends on what you are speaking
about.'

Clarence shifted awkwardly on his knees.
‘May I not rise?' he said, but the king said nothing at all.

Ever since he was a child, Clarence had
suffered from a nervous affliction; a kind of quivering that began in the pit of his
stomach and travelled along the lines of his nerves to his fingertips. And because he
hated these nervous qualms they were always accompanied by anger. He lifted his chin.
‘Why do you question him? Why do you question me?'

The king sat back. His face had barely
changed yet there was a look of satisfaction on it as if he had been waiting for this
moment. The duke felt a hot spike of anger in his gut.

‘For God's sake,' he said, ‘let me
rise.'

Almost imperceptibly, the king nodded, and
the duke got awkwardly to his feet.

‘Many things are said about our cousin,' he
said, ‘and yet he seeks only to protect our family – and you – from those who would
conspire against you – for their own ends.'

‘And who would they be?'

‘Do you not know?'

‘I am asking you.'

Clarence's face went red then pale again. If
he had to, he would name the queen's family. But after a long pause the king
said gently, ‘How does he think to remedy this … problem?'

‘Perhaps there is no remedy – while your
majesty will listen to no one else.' And he went on quickly, ‘All the people around you
– have come from nothing – and have made great alliances – there is almost no one left
to marry. Who am I to marry?' he asked. ‘You have made it quite plain that you do not
want me to marry Charolais' daughter – though you propose to send our sister there with
all the pomp and ceremony of a queen. But I am left here, waiting, at your majesty's
pleasure.'

The last words came out more bitterly than
he intended, but he had spoken them now and he did not flinch.

King Edward for the first time looked away
from his brother. He made a sound that might almost have been a laugh. ‘You are eighteen
years old,' he said. ‘I did not know that you were so desperate to marry.'

‘I would like to know who your majesty has
in mind for me.'

The king shot him a sharp look. ‘Who does
Warwick have in mind, I wonder?'

When Clarence did not answer the king stood
up suddenly, but he did not come towards his brother. He walked away from him, and stood
for a moment facing the wall.

‘You have heard, I trust, of all the attacks
on Lord Scales' estates? The unrest among the artisans of the city who have been told
that the Flemings are coming to take their jobs? My men have only just averted a
bloodbath in Southwark – a mob had gathered to kill all the foreign merchants in the
city. Now, who do you think has incited these good citizens to murder, eh?'

He turned to face Clarence, who said
nothing, so the king continued. ‘The instigators are even now being rounded up and
imprisoned. How many of them do you think will be wearing Warwick's badge?'

‘I know nothing about this –' Clarence
began, but his brother was coming towards him.

‘Who is it do you think has maintained a
correspondence with
the French king, passing on all the secrets of our
realm? He has already been implicated in a conspiracy with the old queen to restore the
old, tired king to the throne.'

‘That's not what he wants at all!' Clarence
burst out, and was alarmed by the look of absolute cunning on the king's face.

‘No?' the king said softly. ‘What does he
want?' He stood still, only a couple of feet away from Clarence.

‘He wants to make this nation – and this
House of York – secure.'

‘Does he?' said the king. ‘And how does he
plan to do this?'

He stepped forward again until he was
standing close, too close to the duke. ‘Has he talked to you of marriage, little
brother?'

Clarence could smell the king's breath. It
was not pleasant. He turned his face away. ‘It may – he may – have mentioned something
–'

‘Something?' said the king. ‘Not
someone?'

Clarence said something barely audible.

‘Who?' said the king. ‘Who does my cousin
think you should marry?'

Clarence felt a sudden movement of violence
in him, the urge to push his brother away. But he knew that he must not, on any account,
lay hands on the king. He closed his eyes. ‘It is not an unsuitable match,' he
began.

‘Hah!' said the king, but Clarence was not
going to be silenced.

‘It is, in fact, highly suitable – we have
grown up together – we are of an age – and – I love her.' He opened his eyes.

The king's expression was a perfect blend of
incredulity and wrath. ‘You love her?'

‘I do.'

‘Does she have a name?'

‘You know her name. Why should it matter to
you if I marry Isabel?'

‘Ah,' said the king, nodding. ‘You plan to
marry the Earl of Warwick's eldest daughter. Because you love her.'

‘Is that so
incomprehensible?'

‘No,' said the king, stepping away from him
at last. ‘She is pretty enough. And she will inherit the greatest earldom in the
land.'

‘Who would your majesty have me marry? A
serving girl?'

The king stood with his hands on his hips,
shaking his head at the floor. ‘He has told you, I suppose, that I have already
forbidden this match?'

Clarence looked at him.

‘I see,' said the king. ‘And what
inducements did he offer to help you overcome your scruples?'

He was breathing heavily, but Clarence was
angry too. ‘I don't see why it should be forbidden,' he said. ‘Why should it surprise
your majesty if I should choose to marry as you did – for love?'

‘Do not compare yourself to me,' said the
king, in that dangerously low voice.

‘Why not?' said Clarence, his pale face
flushing now. ‘You may be the king but you are also my brother – we are not so different
that –'

‘– that you cannot play my role.'

‘I did not say that –'

‘No, but I'm sure Warwick did. Did he remind
you that until I have an heir you are next in line to the throne?'

Clarence felt outmanoeuvred, but also he
felt the injustice of the situation keenly. ‘You accuse me, brother – of what? Of
wanting to marry the girl I love – as you did?'

‘Do not talk to me of love!' thundered the
king suddenly, making Clarence's heart leap in terror and his tongue loosen.

‘Who are you to lecture me on marriage?' he
said. ‘Who are you to dictate to my heart?'

‘I am your king!'

‘You were not always my king,' said Clarence
stubbornly. ‘You were my brother first.'

‘Yes!' said the king. He had lifted his head
and closed his eyes. ‘You are my brother and I am your king. I have built this nation
from nothing – I have made it great again. I will make this House of
York the strongest dynasty that ever sat on the throne – that is what I have set myself
to do. And I will destroy its enemies – even if they are within my own family.'

He opened his eyes. Now might have been the
moment for Clarence to declare his absolute loyalty to his brother and king, but instead
he said, ‘Then you must not make me your enemy, lord.'

In a lightning movement the king slammed him
up against the wall. He pressed against him so that Clarence could hardly move. For
while they were a similar height, the king, because of his massive frame, was much
stronger. Outraged, Clarence tried to move away, but the king caught his face. ‘Look at
me,' he said. ‘Look at me.'

Clarence stared into the king's small eyes,
made smaller by the pouches beneath them. His face was congested with blood.

‘I may not always have been your king,' he
said, ‘but I am your king now. I will not have everything I have built destroyed and
taken away from me. Do you understand that, eh? I will destroy my enemies wherever and
whoever they are, because I am king.'

Humiliation and outrage flared in Clarence.
‘You are king because you took the throne from another man –' he said.

‘No,' said the king, meaning
Do not say
it.

But Clarence, compelled by some terrible
impulse said, ‘You – of all people – know that kings can be made and unmade –'

The king lowered his head until his forehead
rested on Clarence's own. ‘No, no, no,' he said. He released his grip on Clarence's face
and his fingers moved gently, like a caress, until they came to his mouth, where the
king pressed two of them to his brother's lips. ‘Do not say anything else,' he said.
Then as Clarence started to speak he pressed his fingers down harder. ‘Sssh,' he said,
‘sssh.'

Then, after a long moment, the king released
him. His hands fell to his sides and he closed his eyes again. He started to speak,
then stopped, then started again. ‘I will tell you what we will do,'
he said. ‘You will agree to see the Earl of Warwick no more. You will make no promises
to Isabel. You will spend Christmas with me and my family at Coventry, where we will
enjoy ourselves, as a family. And in the New Year I will give the matter of your
marriage my full attention.'

Clarence could not speak. The king looked at
him warily, as if from a great distance. ‘Yes?' he said.

Clarence managed to nod his head.

‘Good,' said the king. ‘You will join us at
Coventry and nothing more will be said about what has happened here today, or anything
that has happened previously between you and the Earl of Warwick. There will be
friendship and accord between us. And we will love one another, as brothers.'

Clarence closed his eyes, partly so that the
king could not see either the sudden tears or the murderous rage in them.

‘Excellent,' said the king, when he didn't
answer. ‘You may go.'

Clarence hesitated only for a moment before
bowing without evident irony. He left without looking again at the king, shaking
internally, but grateful that he had not entirely disgraced himself. He had not
wept.

The king, with the queen and many
other lords, held the feast of Our Lord's nativity at Coventry in the abbey there,
where for six days the Duke of Clarence behaved in a friendly way. And soon after
Epiphany, by means of secret friends, the Archbishop of York and Lord Scales were
brought together at Nottingham and they were so agreed that the archbishop brought
the Earl of Warwick to the king at Coventry to a council in January where the Earl
of Warwick, Lords Herbert, Stafford and Audley were reconciled …

Annales Rerum Anglicarum

In France the news was all of Warwick. He was
no longer seen at the English court. He spent more time at the French court than the
English. He was so opposed to the marriage between the king's sister and the Duke of
Burgundy that if King Edward went ahead with it there would be civil war. And Warwick
was more popular than the king.

Most sensationally, it was rumoured that
Warwick had seduced the king's brother, the Duke of Clarence, by offering him his own
daughter in marriage.

Margaret of Anjou was worried. Did Louis
think he could use the earl to further his own ends in England? She knew that Warwick
would only pursue his own objectives. She wrote to the French king, demanding to know
what his plans were, and begging him not to trust the earl. When she received no reply
she sent her own brother, John of Calabria, to speak to the king against the earl.

But the king replied that the Earl of
Warwick had always been a friend to his crown, whereas King Henry had been a mortal
enemy, and had waged many wars against him.

Which was not true, and it was all in the
past, before Louis had been king and when England still had territories to defend in
France. Louis was making excuses, she said, to further his own plans.