Red Rose, White Rose (27 page)

We rode splashing into the peaty stream at a trot through a rainbow spray of droplets. Cicely shouted with delighted laughter. It was a sound I had not heard for at least two years.

At Ludlow Castle her two boys were waiting to greet her in the inner bailey, at the foot of the stair to the great hall. They were dressed smartly in velvet doublets and draped hats and Edmund was trying not to jig up and down with excitement at seeing his mother again. Edward, however, was straight-faced and serious, which I thought surprising until I recognized the good-looking man at his side. It was young Richard Neville, known to the family as Dick, Hal’s eldest son. No doubt Edward was in awe of his twenty-one-year-old cousin and wanted to make a good impression on him. As an an example of precocious worldly advancement, this new Earl of Warwick was surely it.

‘What is
he
doing here?’ Cicely had not sounded particularly pleased to see this visitor as we entered the inner defences of the castle.

Ludlow was a stoutly protected stronghold. Its vast outer bailey, ringed by battlemented walls, covered a wide area and contained kennels, mews and stables, a forge and workshops, butts, jousting lists and arms-training grounds. The great hall, food-stores, kitchen, dairy and bakery, chapel and privy quarters were tightly ranged around a small, irregular-shaped inner bailey fortified by numerous outer towers and a solid four-square keep, linked by a ten-foot-high secondary curtain and accessed via a drawbridge over a dry moat. No wonder Richard had considered it the safest place to leave his two eldest sons during his absence in Ireland.

I watched the young Earl of Warwick as he chivalrously handed Cicely down from her palfrey and bent his knee to her. With his fighting-man’s build, dark hair and features, he was a handsome creature and Cicely responded to his deep, clear voice with a practised smile. ‘God’s greeting to your grace,’ he said. ‘My cousin Edward has kindly permitted me to stay here and break my journey south to my estates in Glamorgan. I hope this meets with my lady aunt’s approval.’

A carpet had been laid over the bailey flagstones and Edward and Edmund dutifully knelt on it to receive their mother’s blessing. Then she bent down eagerly to hug them. ‘It is so good to see you both – and looking so well and strong. Of course I approve of you welcoming your cousin Dick. I hope you have given him an opportunity to gauge your knightly skills while he is here.’

‘Indeed they have,’ said the young earl, offering his arm to his aunt to ascend the steps to the great hall. ‘I am greatly impressed by their achievements.’

‘That is praise indeed, coming from someone whose own skills are considered unmatched. Dubbed knight at sixteen, confirmed as Earl of Warwick in your wife’s right and still only twenty-one. That is unparalleled achievement I would say.’ Cicely’s words expressed enthusiasm but her face did not.

Her nephew shrugged. ‘I would call it good fortune, Aunt,’ he declared without apparent guile. ‘With God’s help I will prove that it was fortune well deserved.’

‘My cousin pierced the quintain ring ten times in succession yesterday, lady mother!’ Edward spoke with the fervour of hero-worship. ‘I have done it twice running but Edmund cannot even do it once.’

‘Edmund does not have quite your reach yet, young Ned.’ I was pleased to hear Dick point this out. ‘Nor such a big pony, but he will catch you up like my young brother Tom caught me.’

‘How is Tom?’ asked Cicely. ‘We have all missed him since he left us after Anne’s wedding.’

‘He is fighting with our father on the northern march. They lead the Scots a merry dance I can tell you.’ Dick grinned at her and then back at me where I followed behind. ‘It is a while since you did duty on the border, is it not, Sir Cuthbert? My father says you are still considered cock o’ the north though.’

I could not help feeling a little gratified. ‘I proved my worth more than once,’ I admitted. ‘But others must have eclipsed my efforts since.’

‘No, I think your reputation still stands. You are from those parts, are you not? Sir Cuthbert of Middleham. It is where I was mostly brought up and I am my father’s constable there now. Is it long since you were there?’

We had entered the great hall now and I glanced at Cicely, who was looking impatient. ‘I will gladly burn the candles down talking about Middleham with you later, Dick, but now we are all in need of rest and refreshment. It is the end of a very long journey.’

Warwick was suddenly all contrition. ‘Forgive me, your grace – my lady aunt – I am discourteous. As you see, the steward has prepared a meal and I believe hot water has been carried to the great solar. Will you dine in hall or in private?’

‘I will give the orders in my lord’s castle, thank you, nephew.’ Cicely was suddenly on her high horse. ‘Edward, Edmund, come to my chamber in an hour, when you can greet your sisters and your new brother. We will dine together as a family.’

She swept out of the hall and up the inner stair like the duchess she was, trailing the procession of little girls and nurses behind her. I exchanged glances with Dick of Warwick, who gave me a slow wink, waiting until Cicely was out of earshot. ‘My father told me he used to call her Proud Cis,’ he remarked. ‘Now I can see why.’

I was not prepared to let that pass without comment. ‘I think a certain impatient weariness is allowable in a great lady who has been travelling in some discomfort for several weeks,’ I said, approaching the two boys who were staring after their mother a little disconsolately. ‘I am looking forward to seeing this new skill at the quintain, Edward, and I hope you have trained that puppy of yours well, young Edmund. Tomorrow I would appreciate a demonstration of your progress in these matters.’

To the older boy’s obvious delight, Dick immediately slung his arm around Edward’s shoulder. ‘I have been giving this young man some coaching, Sir Cuthbert, and I think you will be surprised by his improvement. He is becoming quite a prodigy at the jousting rail.’

I looked at the pair of them bunched so close together. The top of Edward’s head was almost level with his cousin’s chin. However, it could not be many years before they would be standing eye to eye and I wondered if their relationship would remain the same then, or if the youngster might prove a rival to the young Earl of Warwick’s obvious ambition.

‘Well, tomorrow will tell.’ I turned to the younger boy. ‘And what of Orion’s progress, Edmund—?’

A cloud seemed to pass over Edmund’s face. ‘He is a lovely dog but Edward says he will never lead the pack.’

I cocked my head enquiringly. ‘And since when did Edward become an expert in that field?’

‘Since he took him out hunting without my permission!’ Edmund’s voice climbed high with indignation and I could see his lower lip trembling but he managed to keep the tears in check. Clearly the unequal competition between the two brothers continued unabated. Dick pushed Edward firmly forward to encourage him to respond to his brother’s accusation.

He blustered a little. ‘I only took Orion out on a training hunt with some of the pages. He did not respond to the horn or to my call and he was a bit of a babbler, that is all. Edmund gets upset about nothing.’

I patted Edmund’s shoulder consolingly. ‘I am sure you can get advice from the huntsmen about reaction to the horn and babbling is probably just because he is young and keen. He will grow out of it.’ Huntsmen used the term ‘babbling’ if a hound sounded on a scent when there was none. Sometimes they learned better and sometimes it put an end to the hound’s career. I crossed my fingers that with Orion it was the former.

Dick could not refrain from offering his penny-worth. ‘But, Ned, you should not have taken Edmund’s hound out without his permission. A hound answers like a vassal to his lord or a subject to his king – his loyalty does not shift lightly to another.’

Edward lifted his chin and showed that he was not completely overcome by hero worship. ‘You expect the vassals of Warwick to change their loyalty from the Beauchamp swan to your bear-with-the-ragged-staff – and they do.’

Richard of Warwick shot his cousin an impish grin. ‘So they do, young Ned, so they do. But men understand an offer they cannot refuse, whereas hounds do not.’

Edmund had the last word. ‘And you do not have my permission to take Orion out again, Edward, not ever!’

Ludlow Castle & the city of York, June 1450

Cuthbert

A
letter reached me at Ludlow which had been several months in a courier’s bag, following the York household from Fotheringhay to Ludlow, Ireland and back again. It was probably the last letter I could have wished to be so delayed and as soon as I had read it, I brought it straight to Cicely’s notice.

From Mistress Hilda Exeley, widow of York, to Sir Cuthbert of Middleham, greetings.

It is with regret that I write to inform you of the death of my husband. As you know he was a wealthy and successful wool merchant and my widow’s dower that the law requires, viz one third of my husband’s estate, would provide for me but the truth is I have been deceived and defrauded by my eldest stepson, Simon, who insists that when his father died he was owed more than the value of the dower by my brother Sir Gerald Copley and therefore the estate is under no obligation to me. My brother declares himself unable to pay the debt and to make things worse he refuses to allow me to return to our family manor of Copley.

I write to tell you this because you have always shown yourself to be my friend. I am still at present living in my husband’s house but I cannot tell how long that will be possible. I have certain funds put aside but these will not last long if I am forced to move out. Although I left her grace your sister at an unfortunate time, as you know this was beyond my control and I am wondering if you may be able to persuade her to accept me back into her household. It is my only hope.

I am your loving friend,

Hilda Exeley

Written at Exeley House, York on the Feast of St Chad in the year of our Lord fourteen hundred and fifty.

Having read the letter, Cicely immediately went to her breviary and consulted the list of saints’ days. ‘I should remember the feast of St Chad because he is a northern saint but – ah, it is the second day of March.’ She gave me a stricken look. ‘That is more than three months ago, Cuddy! Whatever can have happened to Hilda since?’

We were alone and so we could talk freely. ‘I desire nothing more than to travel to York to find out, Cis, with your permission of course.’ I retrieved the letter and tucked it carefully into the front of my doublet. ‘I will write reports for Richard on the boys’ military training before I go in case he returns before I do.’

‘Be sure to bring Hilda with you when you do,’ said Cicely, an expression of deep anxiety clouding her face. ‘How can she think for one moment that I might not have her back?’

‘Her perilous position may have caused her to doubt everything and everyone. I only hope she is still in York and has not thrown herself on the mercy of her appalling brother. If she is back at Copley I may have to fight Gerald to get to her.’

Cicely sucked air through her teeth, then issued a stern warning. ‘She says he has cast her out! But I think Hilda will never forgive you if you kill her brother, Cuddy, under any circumstances. Remember that and keep your hand off your sword.’

Her words stayed with me on the long journey to York which, undertaken in good weather, took only a little over a week. I knew she was right. Hilda had begged me for help but that would not include killing her brother, even in a fair fight. Yet that is the thing I yearned most to do, in revenge for his disparagement of me, and because I hated him for selling his sister to the merchant and ruining the life of the only one I had ever loved. I was forty and I knew I could never again allow any man to keep me away from Hilda. Especially I could not allow her brother to do so. As I rode, I prayed that it would not come to that.

I had not been to York for many years and had almost forgotten what a large and bustling town it was. I fought my way through crowds entering through the Walmgate, thankful that there were no traitors’ heads displayed on its barbican, and made my way up the Fossgate, where I recalled that I would find the Merchant Adventurer’s Hall and therefore someone who might direct me to Master Exeley’s house. It was mid afternoon and both I and my horse were tired from our journey but rest and refreshment would have to wait. There was no time to be lost in discovering whether Hilda was still in the city.