Wolf Wood (Part Two): The Dangerous years (15 page)

Alice returned the sealing wax to its box and collected up the blobs that had dripped onto the table. Nothing was wasted these days. They were no longer the undisputed lords of Wolf Wood. They were penniless refugees from the English defeat in France, struggling to make a living in the ruins of their former home.

The manor of Wolf Wood had been one of the most imposing residences in the County of Dorset. That was before she became entangled in court politics. Eleanor Cobham, Duchess of Gloucester, had sought her out. What started as an innocent friendship ended in disaster.

By a strange twist of fate, the manor ended up in the hands of Ralph Knowles. He and Harald had formed a partnership to farm the manorial estate. Alice had nothing but affection for Ralph but his lackadaisical attitude drove Harald to despair. Their attempts to breed a race of Dorset upland sheep were getting nowhere. In the lawless age in which they lived, stud animals were being stolen for their meat and there was nothing they could do about it.

Then, one day, a letter arrived. It was delivered by a royal messenger and addressed to Sir Harald and Lady Gascoigne of Wolf Wood. Alice wondered if the royal secretary, who penned the letter, had any idea of the poverty in which they lived. Maybe he did. There were people in Westminster who knew Harald from when he worked there. To their amazement, the letter was an invitation to join the royal court.

Alice's instincts were to have nothing to do with royalty. Her previous entanglements had ended in disaster. Now, no less a person than the queen sought their services. Harald had been offered a place in the royal administration. Alice was wanted for her skills as a healer. Harald dithered. Steven urged him to accept. Days passed and Harald took his son's advice.

It was a recipe for disaster. The House of Lancaster ruled England and was being challenged by the House of York. Harald believed he could play a role in bringing the two sides together. Steven wanted to get back to the excitement of Westminster and away from the monotony of Wolf Wood.

They were embarking on a perilous enterprise. Alice prayed that she could steer a safe course through the dangerous waters that lay ahead. By accepting the invitation, the Gascoignes had allied themselves with the House of Lancaster. Henriette and Robin Perry had joined the Duke of York in his castle at Ludlow where Robin was captain of the guard.

England was facing civil war. All the signs were there. Lancaster and York would fight to the bitter end. Friends would find themselves on different sides. Families would be divided. The Gascoignes and the Perrys were more like family than friends. The thought of them being on different sides was horrifying.

Ludlow Castle

August 2nd 1453

H
enriette read and re-read Alice's letter. It was addressed to Sir Robin and Lady Perry. Three years ago, she would have thought it a joke. She had married a poor country boy. It had never occurred to her that Robin was destined for a higher station in life.

Robin owed much of his success to Alice and Harald Gascoigne. They valued people as people. They didn't take any notice of birth or how much money people had. Harald's family had been entirely different. They took pride in being members of the military aristocracy and had estates in France and England. Harald's father died in the fighting in France. His brother, Guy, and nephew, William, died when they returned to England and took part in the Jack Cade rebellion. Robin killed Guy and Steven killed William ... or so people said.

That sort of thing happened in civil wars. Families became divided. They even killed one another. Guy and William were thoroughly nasty and deserved to die. But bad people weren't the only ones who got killed. Tears formed in Henriette's eyes. Alice and her family were leaving for Westminster. There, they would join the court of the pathetic King Henry and his ferocious French wife, Margaret of Anjou.

The Gascoignes were committing themselves to the House of Lancaster. It was scarcely believable. Alice had railed against the corruption of the Lancastrians and expressed support for Duke Richard of York. Now she was going into the enemy camp. If it came to war, they would find themselves on different sides. Robin was a senior officer in York's army.

Hopefully, it would never get that bad. Duke Richard insisted that he did not want to depose King Henry. He merely wanted to free him from the corrupt counsellors who told him what to do and ran his life. Unfortunately, one of the corrupt
counsellors
was Henry's wife.

Queen Margaret had come to England at the age of fifteen, not knowing a word of English. Within three years, she was proficient in the language and playing a leading role in the government. And she did not meddle mindlessly. Margaret had inherited the drive and intelligence of her famous father, Henri of Anjou, who was widely regarded as the power behind the French throne.

As the wife of a senior officer in Duke Richard's household, Henriette enjoyed a comfortable standard of living. Horse riding and frequent walks kept her figure youthful and athletic. People expressed surprise that she was twenty-eight and the mother of two children, saying she looked much younger. She had inherited the sandy-coloured hair and strong features of her Breton ancestors. When she was tired, a slight French accent was discernible amongst the refined vowels that she had acquired by living with Alice and Harald Gascoigne.

Westminster

August 28th 1453

T
he day was pleasantly warm. Alice would have kept the window open if it had not been for the stench coming from the river. The tide had gone out and a vast expanse of mud, littered with sewage, stretched from the palace wall to the main Channel.

There was no need for it. Properly-run establishments regulated their flow of effluent so that it was carried away on the outgoing tide. Others discharged it indiscriminately and the place where she now lived was one of them.

It had not always been like that. The Royal Palace of Westminster was once a model of propriety. Now, the huge, rambling complex of buildings was falling apart. Signs of neglect were everywhere. Roofs leaked. Drains were blocked. Lighting was bad and security was lax. At night, the residents retired to their rooms and locked their doors. It wasn't safe to wander the corridors.

Her son described the palace as
spooky.
Alice thought
sinister
would be a better word. She had felt uncomfortable from the day they arrived but the same could not be said of Steven. He liked spooky places.

Steven felt at home amongst the weird collection of people who roamed the corridors of power. They fascinated him with their extravagant dress and flamboyant manners ... and he fascinated them.

Everyone was talking about Steven.

Her son was the "crossbow boy".

A legend had grown up around him. When King Henry faced rebellion, twelve-year-old Steven climbed onto a waterwheel and shot the ringleaders. Resistance collapsed and the London militias came in on the side of the royal army. Steven saved the day. It was nonsense, of course, but like all good stories it had an element of truth.

His refusal to admit he fired the fatal shot added to his fame. There was something mysterious about the unassuming boy who arrived, as if from nowhere, did great deeds and vanished. His return to Westminster was regarded as a good omen.

Steven relished his new role. Admirers presented him with clothes. Girls flocked to meet him and he received invitations to go riding. There was no lack of money for presents and entertainment at Westminster, even if the buildings were falling apart and the plumbing was in need of repair.

Her husband's reception could hardly have been different. Harald was receiving scant attention. Two days passed before he was told about the work he was to do. He had expected to be employed as a royal secretary. Instead, they sent him to the royal archives and told him to help with the cataloguing.

Harald wondered why he had been summoned all the way from Dorset for such a mundane task. Someone had either made a mistake or they were checking him out before assigning him to a more responsible role. He hoped for the latter. In the meantime, he had been issued with a black gown, white shirt and buckled shoes. They looked very drab beside the magnificent clothes presented to his son.

Alice wondered what was going on.
No one gave a straightforward answer to her questions. One guarded reply followed another as she tried to find out why they were there. To her amazement, Steven was having more success.

His questions were mainly about girls and horse riding but people were prepared to talk about other things. They even talked about the queen and were prepared to discuss her pregnancy.

She had questioned him on this point and had asked what people said about King Henry. Steven said that whenever he mentioned the king, the conversation came to an abrupt halt ... he found that very spooky.

Alice found it spooky too. She was reminded of when Commander Gough was killed at the Battle of London Bridge. Robin returned to the Tower with his body. They pretended that Gough wasn't dead but merely injured. The weather was hot and she used her medicinal skills to prevent the body from putrefying. That was unpleasant but necessary. Robin lacked authority to issue orders but could relay orders from the commander ... so long as people believed him to be alive.

Had the king died?

The poor, frail man was in poor health. People were surprised he had passed the age of thirty and gone on to live another two years. If he had died, the queen's authority lay in limbo. If she bore him a male heir then she could rule through her child. But, if the child was a girl or failed to live, her authority and that of the House of Lancaster would be placed in jeopardy. Alice resolved to speak to Harald about it when they went for their evening walk. That was when they felt free to discuss delicate matters.

Walls had ears.

False ceilings and thin partitions made rooms vulnerable to eavesdropping. Even rooms with solid stone fixtures weren't safe. Harald had worked in Westminster before and knew about the dangers. Their room was equipped with a cunning listening device.

It took the form of a funnel-shaped hole in the curved roof of a small alcove. A tube ran from the hole and transmitted sound over a long distance. You listened by putting your ear to the other end. Harald knew because he had used one to spy on foreign dignitaries staying at the palace.

Alice stifled an urge to stuff something up the offending orifice. That would be counter-productive. It would merely tell them you knew the hole was there and were aware of its purpose. Far better for them to think you were speaking freely. Then you could tell them all those things they liked to hear. You could say how much you enjoyed being at Westminster. You could pour venom on the House of York and you could pray for their majesties.

Steven sank to his knees before going to bed and prayed loudly to the Holy Mother, imploring Her to look over and protect Queen Margaret and deliver her of a healthy male heir. She suspected that her son remained sceptical about Holy Mother Mary and his prayers were intended for more mundane ears.

Alice was aware that her attitude towards religion had influenced Steven. She had a deep sense of the divine but little love for the Church. Experience had taught her to keep her views to herself and observe the holy sacraments even if she regarded them as nonsense.

Her mind was young but her body was showing the signs of age. At only forty-five, her hair was prematurely white and her once rounded figure was sinewy and gaunt. The scars from a childhood attack of smallpox continued to disfigure her face. Alice didn't worry about her appearance. Her mission was to help others and live a good life according to her own standards and not those dictated by others.

***

D
usk was approaching and it was getting cold. Alice and Harald were with a party of courtiers promenading along the banks of the River Thames. Families with small children had started to turn back and they decided to join them.

Harald glanced back and forth. A detachment of the palace guard was patrolling in the wings. Their presence was reassuring. He never felt safe after dark. There wasn't just the danger of robbery. There was the ever-present risk of political assassination. York had agents in London and some were trained assassins.

Harald had a horror of violence. His aim was to avoid taking sides in the conflict between Lancaster and York and do all he could to prevent England from sliding into civil war. In his view, the country's woes stemmed from a breakdown of law and order and could not be resolved by force of arms.

His wife was of a different persuasion. Her support for the House of York was deep seated. Alice thought in terms of taking sides. Harold was concerned with obeying rules. Right now the rules were being flaunted. Magna Carta had shown the way over two hundred years ago. In Harald's view, the realm needed an updated version and the means to enforce it.