White Boar and the Red Dragon, The (5 page)

BOOK: White Boar and the Red Dragon, The
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I will try to be a fair and just Lord of Pembroke and will always hear your grievances and try to right wrongs which may have been done to you. If you have any disputes or grievances for me to deal with before I depart for Raglan, I shall be available to receive them from tomorrow morning!

Now I ask you to try this wonderful new wine I brought back with me after the French wars, several dozen barrels in fact! It is from Gascony and is of the highest quality, matured for years in deep, cool cellars. If there is one thing the French can do, and they have many faults, it is make excellent wine!’

The guests cheered and applauded as a group of pages began to distribute pitchers of the new wine, and very soon, the whole company were overcome by its effects, as it was much stronger than their usual wines. After the huge amount of food they had consumed, it rendered many comatose on the floor amongst the rushes, where they dozed happily, unaware of hounds sniffing round their heads, nosing for scraps from the feast tables. Gentry and chief townspeople who had intended returning home spent the night where they had fallen; others managed to stagger to stone windowsills or wooden benches along the side of the hall, where they stretched out, dead to the world.

Outside, in the castle yard, the many waiting horses were taken to the stables, and when these were full, were let out in the fields behind the castle for their owners to find next morning when they had recovered!

Henry, having come to terms with the arrival of this new Lord of Pembroke, now realised he had no choice but to accept that he would soon have to leave Pembroke Castle altogether—the only home he had ever known, and travel to another, alien place to live. He assumed he would be going with the Herbert family to Gwent, as Lord Herbert was his guardian.

Why did he lose everyone and everything he loved? His mother had abandoned him; his Uncle Jasper had been forced to flee and leave him behind, and now he had to leave his beloved castle. Would Nurse Bethan come too? Would his tutor, Andreas Scotus, accompany the family? And what about his best friend, Davydd ap Thomas?

He was bewildered and apprehensive and, at that moment, felt he would much rather be a simple farm boy in the hills of Wales, living all his life in one place, but having his family all around him. He might be poor, but he would have what mattered most—a mother and father, brothers and sisters, and a secure home.

Shene Palace, Richmond, New Year’s Day, 1463

‘Sire, there is a most insistent supplicant to see you. He will not go away! He has his daughter with him, a young girl not more than twelve. She is weeping, Sire, and—’

‘Yes, yes, man, get on with it! What are you trying to say?’

King Edward was slumped on his throne, very inebriated. His head ached abominably and he was certainly in no mood to deal with supplicants today. But it was a tradition that anyone, high or low, could approach the king on New Year’s Day with a plea and he would be seen.

Until a few moments ago, Edward had been happy enough, in spite of his hangover. He had all his family around him: his brothers, George of Clarence and Richard of Gloucester, his mother, the Duchess Cecily, his sister Margaret, and his dearest sister Elizabeth enjoying a quiet day after the frantic festivities of the Christmas week.

Last night had been particularly memorable, in more than one way, or should he say in more than one bed? He couldn’t seem to think straight. He just remembered far too much wine and several willing wenches.

‘Sire, he is a poor man, and he has waited since dawn, determined to put his case to you!’ the steward announced.

‘Oh, very well. You’d better bring him in, I suppose!’ Edward sighed, yawning. ‘But it had better be something worth disturbing me for today!’

A tall, painfully thin middle-aged man, his face worn with care and his hands with hard work, led in a young girl, certainly no more than twelve and small for her age too, except for her belly, which protruded in an almost obscene manner, it seemed, to Richard of Gloucester. She was not much older than him, and it was obvious she had been cruelly misused.

‘I come to seek justice, Sire, for my poor daughter! Only yesterday did I manage to get out of her the name of the brute who got her in this way, against her will, she insists, when I threatened to beat the truth out of her, child or no child! She admitted she had been too terrified to tell the truth before! She had been threatened that if she did not keep her mouth shut, he would have it shut for her permanently and all my family turned out of our home!’

‘And who is this brute?’ drawled Edward, not really interested.

‘The Lord Hastings, Sire, your Chamberlain and best friend! We live on his land. We have a small farm near—’

‘Yes, yes, that is enough! Have you any proof of what you are telling me? How do I know that this is not just some story conveniently concocted because the real culprit—mayhap a farm labourer with a taste for young flesh—won’t admit his responsibilities and marry her?’

‘Nay, nay, Sire. I am a God-fearing man! And an honest one! What I say is the plain truth. Lord Hastings raped her and this is the result!’

‘Well, what do you expect me to do about it? This kind of thing happens every day! Am I expected to make restitution for every bastard?’

The girl’s father winced, and Richard did not blame him. Edward was being very callous about this affair, but William Hastings was his best friend, and today was not the best day to ask him to deal with it. Richard knew his elder brother was very tired after the Christmas festivities and other private activities and that he had a bad headache.

‘Sire, he should be punished! I am not asking for anything except that he acknowledges the child as his and provides for its upbringing! That is only justice, surely?’

Edward drew several gold pieces from his pouch. ‘Here, you will have to be satisfied with these and be thankful I take you at your word! I could have sent you away empty-handed! I hear so many sad, trumped-up stories and receive so many begging letters. If I believed them all and paid up every time, I would soon be a beggar myself, eh?’

He slapped his hands on his thighs and roared with laughter, calling for wine. ‘What was it they said? The hair of the dog…’

‘I thank you for my daughter, Sire. You are very generous. But what of Lord Hastings?’

‘What of him? Do you expect me to send for him this minute and tell him off just to satisfy your so-called sense of justice? Go now. This interview is at an end!’

Edward clapped his hands, and the steward ushered them both out firmly, the girl crying quietly and the father shaking his head. Richard turned to watch them go. He was full of pity, especially for the young girl. And his heart went out to her father too, bewildered by the fact that he had not received the King’s Justice, which, he suspected, was probably of more worth to him than the gold.

So they were true then, the stories he had heard about Lord Hastings—that he preferred very young girls and if he could not get them willingly, then he just forced them? It was horrible, horrible!

‘Cheer up, Dickon! It’s about time you knew the ways of the world! At least I helped them! Do you think badly of me then for giving them short shrift?’

King Edward had got up, swaying slightly, and put his arm round Richard’s shoulders, the big, protective brother. ‘The look on your face, Dickon! Anyone would think you had witnessed murder!’

‘I have not witnessed justice—real justice! The man was right. Lord Hastings should be punished!’

‘But he’s my friend, Dickon, and one does not put one’s friends on trial!’

‘Not even if they deserve it and are obviously guilty of what they have been accused?’

‘How can you know that? Do you really think I believed the man’s story? I only gave him the gold to get rid of him! For all we know, he had abused the girl himself—it happens! And I’m just too tired today to be bothered with such things!’

‘So will you speak to Lord Hastings about it and find out if it’s true?’

The king laughed and slapped Richard’s back. Then he sat down heavily on his throne again and rubbed his temples peevishly with the tips of his fingers.

‘Enough of this, Dickon. Let it go! Take pity on your poor brother’s head!’

‘I do, Edward, but I do not admire my King’s so-called Justice!’

He turned his back on the king, went to the window, and watched the snowflakes falling. He felt their icy cold without touching them. They matched the feeling inside him.

‘The trouble with you, Dickon, is that you’re an idealist! You’ll soon grow out of it—at least I hope you will!’ cried George. ‘Or you’re going to have a very miserable time! The world is a hard place, and if a man gets any kind of justice in these times, he can count himself lucky!’

Big and bluff and golden-haired like Edward, George thought himself, at fifteen, very much the man of the world; very worldly-wise. He knew how to use his charm with devastating effect on everyone, usually getting his own way.

And then that day, he was an adult! Last night, Edward had initiated him into the pleasures of bedding a girl!

He could not wait until tonight for more!

But the one girl he really wanted seemed out of his reach—like the Pole Star. That was Isabel Neville, Lord Neville’s eldest daughter—he who was now known as The Kingmaker, since he had helped Edward to the throne. Without him, Edward would never have managed it on his own, he thought enviously.

But Warwick was a proud man, the greatest and richest landowner in the kingdom—far richer than the king himself. He seemed to own more of everything than anyone else, and George knew he had set his sights on Isabel marrying at least a king! And she probably would do too, with the enormous dowry in gold and estates to bring to the husband who was chosen for her! And that was the heart of the matter. He did not think Warwick would accept him as his son-in-law. He knew Isabel was as fond of him as he of her, though they had only met circumspectly at Middleham Castle when he and Richard were in training there as knights, under Warwick’s mentorship.

When the time came for her to be married, she would have no choice in the matter. Love would never enter into it, sadly.

Meanwhile, there could be plenty of diversions.

The Duchess Cecily, who up to then had said little, came up to Richard where he stood looking out of the window.

‘Richard, I applaud your sense of justice! It is admirable! You will grow up to be a wise and fair man, I feel! That is very much to your advantage and to the advantage of the House of York—for you have a great task ahead of you!’

‘What do you mean, Mother? I am not sure I understand you.’

‘I know you remember what I said to you at the Micklegate in York about the need for revenge! Your father was the next rightful king when he was murdered! And your brother Edmund—innocent of sin—killed at just seventeen years old!’

‘How could I forget?’ Richard’s face crumpled at the memory. ‘I made up my mind then to avenge them, and one day I will! Just you wait and see! I do not forget the vow I made then and many times since!’

‘I believe you, boy. I see now that you have inner strengths. Edward may be king and George may be much older than you, but I feel that you will be the one to get ultimate revenge on Queen Margaret! George is too idle and overmuch concerned with enjoying life and Edward is too busy being king!

I despaired of you after your illness, but I realise now that, though you may be small and not so well-endowed physically as your brothers, you have a most capable brain in that head of yours and compassion in your heart for poor men. That will stand you in good stead as you grow into adulthood! Lord Neville was right! He said you would turn out well in spite of your physical disadvantages! I did not believe him then, but I do now, for it is not how a man appears, but what he is like inside that determines his worth!’

She moved away, back to where Elizabeth and Margaret sat, leaving Richard almost open-mouthed with amazement. His mother had hardly ever seemed to speak to him unless really necessary for as long as he could remember! She had always adored his elder brothers and indulged them, whereas she had invariably been hard on him. He had frequently felt rejected; unloved. Now she had actually admitted to admiring something he had done; declaring that he was worthy in her eyes!

It made him feel good again. He must think of more ways to earn her praise!

Middleham Castle, Yorkshire, Early Spring, 1463

The brothers Richard of Gloucester and George of Clarence, with Richard’s friends Robert Percy and Francis Lovell, were seated at their studies on a fine, bright March morning. Outside, a, sharp frost was just beginning to thaw in the slowly strengthening sun, but the boys were snug and warm in the library, near a roaring log fire.

George was frankly bored stiff, as that day, they studied law with their tutor, which George found dry as dust and completely irrelevant, as everyone knew that the King’s Justice had broken down under the incompetent, mentally ill Henry VI and that now men did more or less as they pleased, especially if they were powerful and rich. So what was the point? His elder brother Edward IV had begun to institute new laws in Parliament, but it would take a long time to build up a proper system to enforce them again.

Richard, however, was completely engrossed in the work given to him to study. Their tutor had gone for his afternoon break and the boys were taking the opportunity to relax a little, even though they had been set work to get on with and knew they would be questioned closely on it as soon as Master Gardner returned, all except Richard, who was so completely engrossed that he hardly noticed when the tutor had gone or that the others had stopped work. ‘Richard, anyone would think that boring old tome had pictures of nude women in it! You have not lifted your eyes from it this past hour!’ Robert remarked amused.

‘He’s serious-minded, my little brother!’ retorted George. ‘Too serious-minded for his own good! Eleven years old and he’s an old man’s head on his young shoulders! You need to lighten up a bit, lad!’

He got up and leant indolently on Richard’s chair back, peering over his shoulder to see just what it was that absorbed the younger boy’s attention so utterly.

BOOK: White Boar and the Red Dragon, The
13.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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