The King's Dogge (50 page)

The impact of the charge drove Tudor's men back towards the marsh and a number of his men were toppled from their mounts. I saw one of Tudor's standards start to sway and then it fell completely as the charge disintegrated into a swirling melee. Our knights discarded their shattered lances and hacked at the enemy with their swords.

Through the dust cloud, I could see a number of riderless horses aimlessly galloping hither and thither, but my gaze focused on the scene at the side of the marsh where men clashed furiously together and sought to find the weak parts in their enemy's armour. At this distance, it was impossible to discern who was friend or foe.

I made a final circuit to ensure that no men remained behind when I joined Surrey but there seemed to be no one apart from four figures on horseback.

I moved towards them to order them into battle.

‘Keep away, Lovell!' Catesby's voice was shrill.

I stared at him in bewilderment; then I saw the two Brachers on either side of the fourth man whose hands were tied.

‘I thought you were ordered to execute him!' I said, pointing at Lord Strange.

Catesby tittered.

‘My dear Lovell, why on earth should I wish to do such a thing?' he asked.

So Catesby had decided to disobey orders to ingratiate himself with Lord Stanley. I reached for my sword. Seeing this, the two Brachers slowly dismounted.

‘Lord Stanley won't save you because you spared his son,' I said.

‘But he already has!' Catesby laughed. ‘Ever since I took Lord Strange into my safekeeping, he's been totally secure and, due to my messages, Lord Stanley was well aware of this. Naturally, he has been obliged to act with circumspection so as not to throw suspicion onto me, which would have endangered his son, but he has been careful and presently his son will be safely returned to him.'

‘And your price, Judas?'

Catesby's lip curled contemptuously.

‘How old-fashioned you are, Lovell! But, since you enquire, Lord Stanley was good enough to confirm yesterday that the new government would require men of ability such as myself, and they would welcome a wise head like mine.'

A surge of anger swept through me.

‘God help you then if Richard kills Tudor down by the marsh.'

For a moment, Catesby's face assumed a puzzled look, and then, incredibly, he broke into a delighted roar of laughter. He was still chuckling a moment later when he glanced down at me.

‘You seriously believed that it was Henry Tudor himself who was down by the marsh, didn't you, Francis?'

I gaped at him.

‘Who is it then?'

‘A few of them are personal attendants of Henry Tudor, of course. The remainder of them are French mercenaries – small in numbers naturally, but sufficiently tough and experienced to keep fighting until Lord Stanley's troops can rescue them. The real Henry Tudor is in a safe place.'

He smiled complacently.

‘Of course, as I pointed out to Lord Stanley yesterday, an impersonator in full armour is hard to detect.'
²⁸

I moved forward very slowly my hand inching towards my sword.

‘Of course, Gloucester was impetuous at the best of times,' Catesby continued, ‘but, given such a tempting target, I knew that he would go for it and, with Richard dead, my new master's throne is much more secure.'

I was almost within striking distance of Catesby, but still the Brachers were positioned on either side of him.

‘What about Northumberland?' I asked Catesby to distract him.

His lip curled.

‘He believes that a Percy should rule the North and his heart was not for Richard. Now whether it will be for my new master King Henry remains to be seen. You see…'

I sprang at him, but the younger Bracher was quicker and blocked my way. I swung at him and felt a jolt, but my blade rebounded off his breastplate. He straightened himself and raised his axe in both hands – but I struck first. I caught him at the join between neck and shoulder and he started to sway. I pushed past him as his knees buckled.

There was a sudden movement to my left but then my head seemed to explode and I knew no more.

When I came to, Catesby was standing over me. As my vision cleared, I saw his familiar sneer.

‘You really had no idea, did you, Francis? You're just like the rest of those boneheaded idiots. None of you could see that Richard of Gloucester was finished even before the battle began.'

‘You traitorous bastard!' I croaked.

‘How unfair you are, Francis,' he gently chided me. ‘After all, I cautioned you about Lord Stanley and warned you about Northumberland.'

He spread his hands.

‘Under the circumstances, it seemed to me prudent to make my own arrangements and look to serve a different master in the future.'

Just as he had with his last master, Lord Hastings, I thought miserably.

Catesby glanced down at me.

‘Your problem, Francis – well, one of them anyway – was that you were always so wrapped up in your dog-like concept of loyalty that you were totally incapable of realising the true nature of the men around you.'

He broke off as the elder Bracher interrupted him by pointing down towards the marsh. Catesby narrowed his eyes.

‘It would appear that Lord Stanley's troops are almost up to what remains of the decoy and Gloucester's knights,' he observed. ‘So, if you will excuse me, dear Francis, I believe that I will now withdraw, since I am reliably informed that in the first flush of victory, soldiers can be somewhat indiscriminate in their slaughter.'

The two Brachers hefted their axes and moved towards me. I made no move to rise. After what I had heard, I would welcome death. Catesby's piercing whistle halted them abruptly.

‘Guard Lord Strange at all times!' he commanded them, and they turned away from me reluctantly.

Catesby sauntered over.

‘I'll leave you for Tudor, Francis. Of course, you'll be executed, but you can take comfort from one thing.'

‘What's that?'

His face lit up happily.

‘When it comes to the moment of your beheading, you will see a dear friend close at hand. After all, with my high position in the new regime, I am certain to be given one of the best seats for the occasion.'

And then he was gone.

I rose unsteadily and looked down towards the marsh. Red-coated billmen were among the knights now, their sharp weapons cruelly raking the horses' flanks and pulling their riders down. I glimpsed a few of the knights turn and flee, but knew instinctively that Richard would not be among them.

Hot tears welled uncontrollably as I watched the remaining household knights fight on defiantly in small groups. As more and more of Stanley's troops poured into the battle, so the paragons of Richard's army scorned them and fought on bravely, but the odds against them were lengthening. Not only did Stanley's troops vastly outnumber the handful of surviving knights, but their longer weapons easily outranged their shorter swords. Realising their advantage, the billmen redoubled their efforts and attacked the tiring knights from all sides, battering at them savagely until one by one their opponents slowly dropped. I forced myself to watch the slaughter knowing that their deaths and that of Richard were my fault.

I cursed myself. I had scented danger all right, but being unable to recognise the nature of the threat, I had done nothing to avert it. I had kept silent when I should have shouted out. Through my hesitancy and cowardice, I had failed Richard and his knights, and I was just as responsible for their deaths as Stanley's soldiers.

It took a painfully long time, but the numbers of knights dwindled until there were no more and the red-coated infantry swarmed over their bodies to pillage them. I made the sign of the cross, confident that such loyalty to Richard would earn them a place with him in the hereafter, and turned my attention to the plain. Already Lord Stanley's main force was up to the place that Northumberland had so recently vacated and was moving steadily forward to mount a flank attack on Surrey's unsuspecting division. I groaned quietly as I knew what must follow. In a moment, Surrey's men would spot them and alert their comrades with panic-stricken cries. Terror would spread quickly, and Surrey's force would degenerate into a mob of desperate men fleeing in all directions. And so it would be, as they were at their most vulnerable, that the true butchery would begin.

I looked away in total disbelief. Within the space of only a few hours, the army that Richard had entrusted me with had been annihilated and not by the enemy but through treachery. And it was by a traitor's plan, and through my own negligence, that the man whom I served was dead. Tears welled in my eyes as I grieved him. Even as I mourned, I had a moment of inspiration. Richard had been killed, but did I not carry part of him with me? I pressed hard against the armour on my chest and sighed with relief as the ring that he had given me dug into my skin. I smiled as I visualised its crown and lions insignia – it was clearly the token of a king. It had been too small for my finger, so I wore it on a chain to remind me of my promise.

I traced a circle on that part of the armour under which the ring lay and considered the course of action that I was indebted to pursue. To make Richard's heir, the Earl of Warwick, king, it would be necessary first to unseat Henry Tudor.

I grimly surveyed the battlefield for a final time; I was not going to be able to salvage much from the wreckage of our army. Our defeat had been total, and the House of York was in complete disarray. But, I assured myself, it had not been annihilated.

I moved towards the horses. Today was our nadir, but it was not the end. Our cause could be rebuilt, and, in time, I could rally enough people behind it to make it strong enough to defeat Tudor. It would not be an easy task, though; I brooded on the difficulties that lay ahead. Then, in self-reproach, I dismissed my concerns as irrelevancies. A promise is a promise, after all.

P
OSTSCRIPT

What happened to the key protagonists?

Ratcliffe: Richard Ratcliffe was killed at the Battle of Bosworth. Due to his close association with Richard III, it is probable that he joined the king in his final charge and perished with him.

Catesby: Contrary to his expectations, Catesby was not given a position in the new regime. Instead, he was captured and executed in Leicester a couple of days or so after the Battle of Bosworth. Catesby was given sufficient time to write his will in which he bitterly acknowledged, that the trust that he had placed in Lord Stanley was ill-founded.

Lovell:     Francis Lovell's story continues in Volume II,
The Last Rebel.

N
OTES

¹
     The Battle of Towton resulted in a decisive victory for the Yorkists.

²
     Richard Ratcliffe was knighted after the Battle of Tewksbury, 1471.

³
     At that time both the English and the Scots divided their border regions into three administrative and defensive regions called Marches. Broadly speaking, the West March covered modern Cumbria, formerly called Cumberland and Westmorland.