The White Lord of Wellesbourne (44 page)

Matthew’s charger kicked up clods
of wet earth as it came to a rough halt. He dismounted heavily, his armor
banging against itself as he walked straight for Gaston. It was a purposeful
and perplexed march.  The Dark Knight turned to him as he approached.

“Matt,” he greeted.

Matthew flipped open his visor,
his blue eyes full of bewilderment. “What goes on here? What are you doing?”

Gaston was quite composed. “I am
waiting for you.”

“So here I am. Why have you not
joined Richard’s forces? The battle has begun.”

Gaston glanced back to the
skirmish in the distance. “I can see that,” he said. “Oxford is leading the
charge. Who is heading the front line of the opposition?”

Matthew did not quite catch the
meaning of ‘opposition’. “Norfolk and myself. You should be there also.”

“And so I am not,” Gaston turned
back to Matthew, an odd gleam to his eye. “Matthew, we have serious matters to
discuss.”

“Now?” Matthew took another step,
ending up very close to him. “I do not understand.  What we have been
anticipating for years is in front of our face. Why are you lingering here on
the outskirts?”

“Because my fealty is no longer
with Richard.”

It took Matthew several long,
painful moments to process what his friend had said. Then, he could only manage
one word. “What?”

Gaston remained collected, almost
casual.  He turned away from Matthew and began to pace, his massive boots
leaving the wet grass smashed.

“Precisely that,” he replied. “My
loyalty has turned. When Thomas and William Stanley move to support Tudor’s
lines, I shall go with them.”

Matthew had no idea how to react.
He shook his head as if he had not heard correctly.  “If this is a joke, it is
a very bad one. You must get mounted immediately and come with me.”

“Matt,” Gaston said his name as a
hiss, as if to get his attention. “It is not a joke. And I have very valid
reasons for this.  I would hope, as my friend, that you would hear them.”

Matthew just stared at him. “If
this is not a joke, then I cannot believe my ears. This is insane.”

“Will you hear me?”

“Hear what?” Matthew threw out
his arms beseechingly. “What is to hear? That you have betrayed your king on
the cusp of battle?” When Gaston averted his gaze, looking at the ground like a
stung child, Matthew could feel all of the blood rushing to his head.
This
cannot be,
he thought. “What, in God’s name, could you possibly tell me?”

Gaston cocked his head, a side
long glance to Matthew. “I do not have to review my record for service to
Richard,” he said quietly. “It is impeccable. I was there at the death of King
Edward, the father. I was there when the young princes were murdered.  It was
I, in fact, who carried the Duke of Gloucester’s body to his final resting
place, murmuring prayers in the boy’s ear that he would forgive his uncle and
forgive me. Do you not recall that?”

Gaston’s manner had gone from
calm to passionate in a matter of seconds. Though they had never discussed the
incident of the young princes, Edward and Richard, Matthew knew how Gaston had
felt about it. It had been the ultimate act of loyalty to Richard and Matthew
knew that Gaston had always hated the king for it.  Murdering the father for
his throne was one thing. Murdering helpless boys was quite another.

“I recall,” Matthew responded
steadily.

“You were not there.”

“I was at Wellesbourne at the
time, else I would have been just as guilty as you.”

Gaston nodded his head as if
convinced. “With all of Richard’s petty squabbles and paranoid commands, I was
there to carry them out. Never did I question, never did I refuse. I convinced
myself that I was serving the last of the Plantagenet line, just as you were.
We were both convinced that we were preserving a royal legacy. But I have
recently been the recipient of a raw and devastating revelation, something so
catastrophic that it would cause me to question my entire existence.”  He moved
closer to Matthew now, his dark face intense. “The murder of a king could not
convince me. The murder of the sons could not convince me. But something else
has.”

“What could that possibly be?”

Gaston met his gaze a moment
longer before looking away. He turned back in the direction of the battle, now
gaining in intensity. “Do you recollect that I mentioned my wife keeping a
lover in London?”

Matthew’s mind was brittle; he
had not the patience or energy to follow opposing trains of thought. “What does
that have to do with anything?”

“Do you recall?”

“I do.”

Gaston turned to him, then, his
face a mask of barely contained emotion. “It was Richard.”

Matthew did not react at first.
Then, his eyebrows lifted as if to stretch out his entire face. “The king?”

“Aye,” Gaston said softly. “And
do you know what our king said to me when I confronted him?”

Matthew could only shake his head
and Gaston continued. “He told me that it was none of my concern. He further
told me that if I should choose to protest the affair, he could not guarantee
the safety of my son and would see to it that The White Lord took care of the
boy. You see, he is convinced that your loyalty to him supersedes our
friendship and the bounds of common decency. He is convinced that you would
harm my son to punish me if he gave the order.  To spare you that horrible
choice, I have ended my fealty to Richard, sent my wife and son to my holdings
in France, and sworn my oath to Henry Tudor.”

Matthew’s mouth was a tight line
of astonishment and outrage. He had known Gaston for twenty years; the man had
never lied to him, not once. Word from Gaston was as good as word from God.  He
must have stopped breathing because when he finally drew in a breath, it was
loud and ragged. His chest hurt.

“I have never heard anything more
contemptible in my life,” he breathed.  “Are you sure, Gaston? There could be
no mistake?”

“None.”

“So when you went to find the
Stanley brothers to make sure their loyalty to Richard remained true, in
reality, you were going to join them and Henry Tudor.”

“Correct.”

“Why did you not tell me this
before now?”

Gaston shrugged. “I am not sure,”
he said. “Pride, perhaps. Confusion, I do not know. Perhaps I was afraid that
you would not believe me.”

“When have I ever doubted you?”
Matthew fired back softly. “No matter what you say or what you have done, you
have not ended our friendship. It is still there, stronger than ever. And no
matter if the king ordered me to harm Trenton, I would not do it.”

“Even at the expense of your
fealty to Richard?”

“Even so. I would go to the
executioner before I harmed your son.”

Gaston knew that. He nodded his
head, weakly, struggling against the fatigue and despair that threatened. “Even
if you would not, others would.”

“I would kill them all.”

Gaston reached out, slapping a
massive hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “I know, my friend,” he assured him
quietly. “But what of your family, your wife and father and brothers? Do you
have any idea how this would affect them?”

“They would understand. And we
would adjust.”

“Then I tell you now,” Gaston
looked pointedly at him, “that the man we have sworn to serve is not worthy of
your loyalty.”

“And Tudor is?”

“The lesser of the evils.”

A gleam came to Matthew’s eye.
“Did you summon me to convince me to switch my allegiance?”

“Nay. I summoned you to tell you
of mine.”

“And how did you expect that I would
react?”

Gaston lifted his big shoulders.
“I do not know. Kill me, perhaps.”

Matthew hissed in disgust. “I
would sooner throw myself on my own sword,” he said. But his blue eyes were
fixed on Gaston, almost painfully. “What I cannot seem to understand is why you
did not tell me any of this sooner.  I always thought you and I were closer
than brothers, no secrets between us. I guess I was wrong.”

Gaston had been experiencing
guilt over that same thought. But it was more than that. “Perhaps my deepest
shame was something to be kept to myself. It was not meant as a betrayal to our
friendship.”

Matthew was hurt, bewildered and
grieved all at the same time. He would have never expected this from someone he
had known most of his life, someone who thought exactly as he did. Or so he
believed.

“Surely Tudor must know the
reasons for your new loyalty,” he said.

Gaston braced his legs slightly
apart and crossed his massive arms, his traditional and favorite stance.  “Not
strangely, when I found the Stanley brothers, they had an offer for me straight
from Henry’s mouth. It gave me the opportunity to use it as an excuse for my
change in fealty.”

“What is the offer?”

“Yorkshire should Tudor emerge
the victor. And there is an offer for you, too.”

Matthew was torn, not wanting to
hear it, wanting to hear it. “What is that?”

“Herefordshire and the Southern
Marches.”

Matthew inhaled a long, deep
breath. It was an endeavor to steady himself but it wasn’t working.  Gazing
into the smoky eyes of his closest friend, his mind was sorting through many a
thought; Alixandrea, Wellesbourne, Richard, the future, and Henry Tudor.  He
found himself asking a question that would have only come from his heart and
not his head.

“What is your opinion on the
outcome of this battle?”

Gaston glanced to the north,
where a black line of soldiers await in the distance. “Henry’s forces outnumber
Richard’s. He has the strength of Northumberland.”

Matthew blanched. “Northumberland
is riding to meet Richard.”

“No, he is not.”

“And you knew this?”

“Only a few days ago, from Thomas
Stanley. Northumberland sides with Tudor now.”

 That betrayal alone cost Richard
over a thousand supporting troops.  Matthew could see what was happening. They
were all turning, for various reasons or perhaps none at all. Richard’s support
was crumbling. He sighed deeply.

“I am sure Northumberland has his
reasons,” he said. “As do you. I do not dispute them. But I have no such
reasons. My oath is my bond and once given, cannot be retracted. I must do as I
pledged. I must protect the king.”

Gaston had known what his answer
would be the moment he saw him approach from Richard’s lines. Matthew
Wellesbourne was a man of his word.  It was a bitterly sad moment, friend with
friend, not warrior against warrior.

“Is there nothing I can say that
would convince you to join me?”

“Would that I could, my friend. 
Yet honor holds me bound.”

“But you are outnumbered, Matt,”
Gaston sounded very much as if he was pleading. “This cannot go well in
Richard’s favor. I do not want to see your end.”

“Nor do I,” Matthew said. “But I
must do as I must.”

A heavy silence fell as both men
pondered their immediate future. “I would ask you a question, then.”

“Ask.”

“If Richard had set sights on
your wife, what would you have done?”

Matthew snorted. “You are far
better in control of yourself that I would have been. I would have killed him.”

Gaston took a step closer to him
and lowered his voice.

“Then know that he did set his
sights on her when you first brought her to The Tower those weeks ago,” he
rumbled. “He had been watching the gates from his chamber as he so often does
and saw her when she disembarked her carriage. Twice he sent me to retrieve her
while you were occupied in war council.  When I refused, he sought out
Mari-Elle instead.  You must understand that Richard’s lust for Alixandrea
precipitated this chain of events. He bedded my wife to punish me for refusing
to bring him yours. Though you are a man of honor, Matt, you are bound to a man
that has none. He would have taken your wife and threatened you when you
resisted, as he did me. Now, are you still as loyal to our king as you were
only a moment ago?”

Matthew was embroiled in perhaps
the greatest internal struggle he had ever known.  Never did he doubt Gaston’s
word.  Now it was a matter of pride for him, too.  But it was more than that.
Alixandrea had been at stake and Gaston had done something completely unselfish
to protect her, which had worked horribly against him. 

Gaston had sacrificed himself to
save Matthew’s life and happiness.  Perhaps there were times when true
friendship and the safety of one’s family meant more than the breaking of a
bond.  Perhaps it was Matthew’s turn to sacrifice something for Gaston, perhaps
for all of the wrong reasons, but reasons nonetheless
.  I must do as I must…
.

“My wife means more to me than
anything in this world,” Matthew said, his voice choked with emotion. “If what
you say is true, and I have no reason to doubt that it is not, then in spite of
my loyalty to Richard, he has none to me. This I cannot abide.”