Jasper (15 page)

‘I should tell you, my lady, it was King Louis who persuaded me to set aside all that has gone before and place my trust in your husband.’

‘And you have?’

Jasper nodded. ‘He has agreed to risk his life to see King Henry restored to the throne, so can rely on my complete support, as can you, my lady.’

The countess didn’t reply but for the first time Jasper saw a faint glimmer of hope in her sad eyes.

At the banquet that followed the jousting Jasper found himself seated next to Queen Charlotte. He noticed how she observed their guests closely yet with no sign of judgement. He leaned across to her and spoke in French.

‘I understand you will soon be leaving for the Château d'Amboise to enter your confinement, Your Highness.’ He smiled. ‘With God’s grace I hope all will be well for you and the child.’

Queen Charlotte returned his smile. ‘That is most kind of you, Sir Jasper.’ She eyed him conspiratorially. ‘This time it’s another boy, an heir for the king. We shall name him Charles.’ She caressed her hand over her swollen middle, grown so large she could not sit close to the table. ‘A mother knows these things.’

Jasper recalled King Louis telling him their first son barely lived two years. He raised his gilded goblet of wine. ‘Your son is destined to one day be a great king, Your Highness.’

‘I pray you are right, Sir Jasper,’ she crossed herself, ‘and you will soon be returning to the court of Queen Margaret of Anjou?’

He glanced across to where Warwick was enjoying a joke with King Louis as if they had always been great friends. He saw Countess Anne looking in his direction and was pleased to see her nod to him when their eyes met, the briefest of gestures yet a sign he understood.

‘I must persuade Queen Margaret to embrace your new guests, Your Highness. The future of England depends on it.’

Queen Margaret stared at Jasper in tense, stern-faced silence as he gave her his account of all that happened in Arras, including the arranged marriage. He’d rehearsed his words many times on the long ride from Angers, and prepared himself for her angry reaction.

‘King Louis summons me now, after all this has been settled?’ She glanced at the empty chair at her side. The prince chose to go hunting in the woods rather than wait to hear the news Jasper brought.

‘I can assure you his intentions are honourable, Your Highness. We’ve been searching for a way to win his support, and now he is asking for yours.’

‘I think, Sir Jasper, you have been at the court of the universal spider for too long.’ She spoke in French and her tone was harsh.

He tried not to show his dislike of her use of the king’s nickname. ‘I’ve done my best, my lady, to promote our interests. This offers the best opportunity, perhaps the only opportunity, to restore King Henry to the throne.’

‘You trust Warwick?’ It was more of an accusation than a question.

‘You will find the Earl of Warwick much changed by his reversal of fortune, my lady.’

‘I will never trust a man who put my husband in the Tower of London.’ She stood, her eyes blazing at him. ‘Do you forget so easily the pain and misery that man has brought upon my family?’

‘I do not forget, Your Highness.’ He needed to find a way to calm her. ‘I too have suffered because of his actions, and know many good men who gave their lives for our cause, yet I must find it in my heart to forgive him, for the greater good.’

The sincerity in his voice seemed to have the desired effect and she sat down, looking close to tears. ‘His daughter is the last person I would choose as a wife for my son. He should marry a princess, not the second daughter of an earl.’

‘His daughter Anne is personable, my lady. She is young and pretty. I think she would be to the liking of the prince.’

‘You went to the court of King Louis to see if we could turn Warwick’s disloyalty to our advantage.’ She seemed to be wavering for the first time since Jasper broached the subject. ‘Your counsel is this marriage must take place?’

‘It is the surest way to bind Warwick to our cause, Your Highness.’

‘I will see this girl for myself, and you shall tell the Earl of Warwick he must bend his knee and beg my forgiveness.’

Queen Margaret wore a gold coronet and her royal robes, trimmed with ermine, for the meeting with Warwick at Angers, and sat flanked by Jasper to her left and her son, Prince Edward to her right. Both wore fine new armour, gifts from King Louis, with the gold-plated fleur-de-lis of France emblazoned in the centre. Jasper watched as Warwick approached, walking stiffly and trying to retain as much of his authority as he could.

Warwick bowed on one knee and waited for Queen Margaret to command him to rise before looking into her face.

‘I hereby pledge my loyalty, Your Highness.’

Jasper saw the queen tense, pausing for an uncomfortably long time before she replied. ‘You swear to restore King Henry to the throne?’

‘I swear, Your Highness. I will not rest until he is once more King of England.’ The conviction in his voice echoed in the room. He touched his lips to her offered hand and stood tall, with a little of the confidence Jasper had once seen.

The next morning a sharp knock at Jasper’s door announced the return at long last of Gabriel, and he saw immediately from his friend’s expression that the news he brought was good.

‘It proved quite an adventure, sir.’ Gabriel gratefully drank from the goblet of red wine Jasper offered him. ‘England is in a proper confusion. Neighbour against neighbour, a good time for an Irish soldier of fortune.’

‘Tell me, Gabriel,’ Jasper tried to hide his impatience. ‘My nephew Henry is alive and well?’

‘He is, sir,’ Gabriel grinned, ‘yet he took some tracking down. You were right about Lady Margaret Beaufort, sir.’ He took another sip of wine, nodding in approval. ‘She has been to visit her son, who is well and living in Hereford under the protection of a Squire Corbet, the husband of a relative of Lady Herbert.’

‘You gave her my message?’

‘That I did, and she asked me to inform you that she remembers you in her prayers, sir.’

Jasper crossed to his window and stared into the courtyard while he composed himself. Lady Margaret would understand it could have cost him his life if he’d not escaped from Wales when he did. All the same, he had suffered many sleepless nights wishing he could have found some way to avoid abandoning her son to his fate.

‘Did you travel to Hereford to see him for yourself?’

‘I did, sir. He is older than I expected, some thirteen years now. The squire asked me to convey his promise to keep him safe.’

‘You’ve done well, Gabriel, although I regret I have bad news for you.’

Gabriel’s smile faded. ‘What is that, sir?’

‘I am returning to Wales once more, and wish you to accompany me.’

The dawn sunrise glinted with amber and gold from the sails of a fleet of ships that stretched for as far into the distance as Jasper could see. He’d dreamed of this day and been told at least sixty ships had departed Normandy, escorted by the admiral of France. Each ship was filled with as many men and horses as they could carry on the crossing to the English coast.

Ahead of him in the flagship sailed Warwick, his son-in-law, George, Duke of Clarence and the Earl of Oxford, Sir John de Vere. The number of ships and men to be landed meant half the fleet would sail on to land at Plymouth while the rest would land at Dartmouth, where Jasper planned to head for Wales with Gabriel to raise a Welsh army. Warwick would lead the march on London, gathering men on the way.

Queen Margaret had decided to remain in France with her son and his new bride until it was considered safe for her to return to England. Jasper had been frustrated by the delay, as they needed to wait for a papal dispensation to be delivered from Rome before the betrothal of young Anne Neville and Prince Edward could take place. Queen Margaret seemed to accept her new daughter-in-law with good grace, yet Jasper predicted she would find a way to end the marriage soon enough.

A new danger lurked as they were about to depart, when the Burgundian fleet was sighted, waiting like a pack of hungry wolves for them to leave port. The Earl of Warwick swore they were keeping watch on behalf of their Yorkist allies. With typical bravado, he wanted to lead an attack on the fleet and use his cannons to blast them from the water, but nature intervened when a sudden storm blew the Burgundians safely up the Channel.

Gabriel declared this a good omen for Lancaster as he picked his way through the men who occupied every space on the deck, some sleeping, others gambling their pay with games of cards and dice. His mail shirt, made by craftsmen from thousands of riveted iron links was paid for by Jasper in thanks for the years of loyal service. The mail would protect him from most arrows and sword blows, although it was clear from the way he moved that it would take him a while to become used to the weight of it.

Jasper also commissioned new swords for them both, well-balanced with blades of fine artisan steel. More than simply weapons, the swords were a sign of status and could hold an edge sharp enough to shave with. Jasper’s own was also engraved with his martlet badge, which his father once told him represented his quest for knowledge, learning and adventure.

‘Message from the captain, sir. We should arrive in Dartmouth close to midnight.’

‘Good. How are the horses?’

‘Settled well, sir.’ Gabriel studied the waves. Although the sky was as grey as slate the water was calm enough, with a promising breeze in their favour. ‘These conditions have helped, although they’ll be glad to see dry land again.’

‘As will I. We have quite a ride to Wales, Gabriel, and I’ve no idea if we’ll meet opposition on the way.’

‘York could be waiting to give us a warm welcome?’

Jasper smiled. ‘God is with us, Gabriel. Warwick’s brother Sir John Neville has contrived a Lancastrian rebellion in the north to keep Edward of York and his army far from London until it’s too late.’

‘Surely York will see this diversion for what it is?’

‘Let us pray he does not.’

‘You think Sir John remains loyal to York?’

Jasper smiled to himself, Gabriel knew him well. ‘I trust Sir John Neville will not rebel against his own brother. Even if he does it will be too late, for he will find his men all wear the bear and ragged staff badge of Warwick under their coats.’

They always understood it would be impossible to make the crossing in secret with so many ships, so Jasper hoped making landfall in darkness should give his men a fighting chance. Once in Wales he would soon find enough supporters to remain there in relative safety, at least until they received word from London of Warwick’s success or failure.

 
Jasper looked up at the slender crescent of moon, surrounded by twinkling stars in an otherwise black sky, and said his prayers. The ship heeled in the wind and he nearly lost his footing, gripping the rail with both hands to steady himself. A stiff breeze tugged at the sails, adding an additional challenge for their captain as they approached the treacherous, rocky coast of southern England.

Gabriel had been talking to the crew and learned that the approach to the River Dart could be difficult at night, with the main landmark being a massive rock known to the locals as the Mew Stone. He pointed into the blackness at the indistinct shape as they gave it a wide berth.

‘The waters here are a mess of rocks and shallows where ships can run aground.’ He grinned at Jasper’s frown. ‘Sailors say it’s not the sea that kills you, my lord, it’s the land.’

He stared into the night and saw what Gabriel meant. A dangerous mass of rock rising from the water like a jagged castle, with another, smaller rock close by. His attention was caught by a distant light, which flickered then vanished, only to reappear in the same spot a moment later. He could see no other sign of life at such a late hour. They had timed their arrival well.

They watched as the ships sailing ahead of them cautiously entered the estuary, barely visible except when their masts and sails blocked the view of the moon. Their last obstacle was the old castle guarding the river entrance, connected to Kingswear by massive iron chains, which could be raised to prevent ships sailing upriver. If the chains were raised they would soon know. Jasper held his breath as the castle drew closer.

For once it seemed luck was on their side, as Warwick’s flagship sailed past without incident and the others followed, until they reached the wharf used by merchant traders. Archers and crossbowmen lined the rail as blindfolded horses were unloaded, their hooves thumping rhythmically on the gangplanks. Once satisfied they had not sailed into a Yorkist trap, Jasper took his first step on English soil since being force-marched to Scotland after the defeat at Bamburgh.

He glanced across at the serious young man riding at his side and saw an echo of his long lost brother Edmund’s features, although in character Henry was more like his mother, Lady Margaret. He shared her strength of spirit, evident despite his youth and slight build. The Beaufort steel merged well with his half-Welsh, half-French Tudor blood.

The loyal men of Wales gladly rallied to Jasper’s call when word of Warwick’s victory in London was trumpeted throughout the country. Edward of York and his brother Richard barely escaped with their lives to their allies in Burgundy, and a bewildered King Henry had been swiftly rescued from the Tower of London and returned to the Palace of Westminster. Jasper’s first act had been to ride with a hundred men to Hereford to find his nephew.

‘We must find you a good sword, Henry.’

‘I would be grateful, sir.’ Henry’s voice sounded well educated and carried only the faintest trace of a Welsh accent. He looked confidently back at Jasper. ‘My sword was lost at Edgecote...’ His voice drifted away as he remembered. ‘They made me watch while they cut off the head of Lord William Herbert. He went bravely to his death, may God rest him.’

Jasper bit his lip at a sudden memory of how they had said the same of his father. Secretly he was not sorry the man who murdered his father and other good men that day in Hereford market square met the same horrific fate, but he cursed Warwick’s men for making young Henry witness the act.

‘I thank God you were spared, Henry. Now we shall reunite you with your mother.’

‘My mother told me to always have faith this day would come, sir. She used to tell me to be patient, although Lord Herbert said you were dead, and I was not to ever ask after you.’

‘Well, as you can see, Henry, I am very much alive and your mother was right. There have been times when my faith was tested, yet I lived in hope of seeing your uncle King Henry restored to the throne, and I would one day keep my promise to your mother to see you safely returned to her.’

‘I am too old to live with my mother, sir.’ There was a note of protest in his young voice.

‘I agree, Henry. We’ll send for her when we reach London.’ He smiled. ‘You are my ward again, and I look forward to getting to know you.’

London seemed a riot of noise and colour as Jasper rode through crowded streets, flanked by Gabriel and young Henry, at the head of his army of men from all over Wales. Church bells rang and the crowds cheered and cried ‘God save the King!’ when they saw his colourful standard, the royal arms surrounded by his badge of golden martlets, although he doubted many of them knew who he was.

Men in Warwick’s livery with the badge of bear and ragged staff and armed with sharp halberds guarded each street corner as they reached Westminster. The duke had learned from past experience and would not allow York’s supporters to pose any threat this time. Warwick himself was waiting to greet them on the steps of the Palace of Westminster, wearing a black fur cape and a heavy gold chain, his badge of office.

‘Welcome to London, Sir Jasper.’ The earl greeted him warmly, like an old friend.

‘Thank you, Sir Richard, and well done.’

‘London threw open the gates to us,’ Warwick seemed pleased with himself, ‘so my brother deserves congratulations, as not one man dared to oppose us.’

‘You have informed Queen Margaret?’

‘I have, and I’ve also written to our ally in France, King Louis, expressing our thanks.’

Jasper nodded in approval. ‘And how is King Henry?’

‘He is well.’ Warwick lowered his voice to a whisper only Jasper could hear. ‘His highness has not fully understood recent events, so I would be grateful if you would help him to appreciate what I’ve achieved?’

‘You may count on it, Sir Richard.’

Jasper barely recognised King Henry. His once matted hair had been washed and cut, his beard neatly trimmed, and he wore a fine new hat and cloth of gold in place of the monkish habit Master Blacman encouraged. The greatest change of all was in his eyes, which had always been downcast and vacant, now studying Jasper and young Henry with keen interest.

‘Your Highness,’ Jasper bowed. ‘May I introduce my ward Henry Tudor, son of your late half-brother, Edmund?’

‘I am at your service, Your Highness.’ Young Henry bowed as Jasper had done, his cultured voice confident, despite the awe-inspiring surroundings.

‘We must have a special service to give thanks our little family is reunited here.’ King Henry studied their faces as if seeing them for the first time. ‘It is through the grace of God you have been saved, and I am truly pleased to see you safely returned to me, Jasper.’ He turned to young Henry. ‘And in you there is something of your father. He would have been proud to see how well you have grown.’

It was the most considered speech Jasper had heard from the king in many years, and it gave him hope all the hardship had been worth it. Good men and women sacrificed their lives to allow this day and it gave Jasper comfort to know they had not died in vain.

A messenger waited for Jasper in the hallway of Westminster Palace after his meeting with the king, and handed him a letter with the cross and portcullis seal of Lady Margaret Beaufort:

Sir Jasper Tudor, Earl of Pembroke. I thank you heartily that you bring my beloved son Henry to London and beseech you to visit me at the house of my good husband, Sir Henry Stafford, as soon as you are able. Blessed be God, the King and the Queen, and with God's grace, whom I pray give you good speed in your great matters.

Jasper understood why Lady Margaret was unable to welcome him in person on his arrival and appreciated Sir Henry’s nervousness. Although his mother was a Neville, like many who fought so bravely for Lancaster at Towton, he’d sworn allegiance to York in return for a pardon. Now he might be branded a traitor to the king by those less understanding.