Jasper (28 page)

After Sir Thomas Grey left, a white-bearded knight, dressed in battle-worn mail with a tattered and stained surcoat, introduced himself as Sir John de Vere, Earl of Oxford. Jasper struggled to recognise him as the same man he had last seen setting sail for England with Warwick.

‘You’ve been released from Hammes Castle?’

Sir John gave a wry smile. ‘Escaped, more like it, after ten years.’ The smile vanished as he remembered. ‘I tried jumping from a high window into the moat once. Nearly did for me that time. They thought I was trying to kill myself.’

Henry was curious. ‘How did you escape, Sir John? There was talk of rescuing you once, but the castle was too well defended.’

‘I owe my freedom to Sir James Blount, Captain of Hammes. He told me he could no longer live with his conscience after what is rumoured to have happened to the Princes in the Tower.’

‘He helped you?’

‘He is here, Your Grace, ready to swear to serve you.’ Sir John glanced at Jasper, as if making a judgement. ‘We have a request, my lords.’ He looked at his boots. ‘Unfortunately we had to leave Lady Blount behind. She is safe enough, as she has the garrison to protect her, but...’

‘You want us to rescue her?’ Jasper was already thinking how useful it would be to their cause to have a Lancastrian military commander with Sir John de Vere’s experience, even though, like them, he would be learning from his mistakes.

‘Not only Lady Blount, Sir Jasper. I believe the entire garrison of Hammes Castle could be persuaded to join our cause.’

‘That would certainly win us the attention of the garrison in Calais,’ Jasper smiled, ‘I must consult Duchess Anne before we can consider your request, Sir John, although I must admit it does appeal to me.’

As the next man entered both Jasper and Henry were checking the lists to see how many more remained to be seen. Jasper looked up to see a hooded man, wearing an old sword that seemed familiar. The man pulled back his hood and grinned.

‘Gabriel, by God!’ Jasper leapt to his feet and shook his old friend by the hand. ‘What took you so long?’

‘It’s been a while, I will admit.’ Gabriel bowed with exaggerated courtesy to Henry. ‘Your Grace, I would hardly recognise you, that’s for sure.’

Henry also stood and crossed to shake Gabriel’s hand. ‘It’s good to see you, Gabriel. We need men who are good at choosing horses, and you always were one of the best.’

‘Well, thank you, Henry, I mean, Your Grace.’

‘Where have you been? What have you been up to, Gabriel?’ Henry gestured for him to take a seat.

Gabriel sat heavily and studied the two of them. ‘Duke Francis wouldn’t let me in the country, or allow me to send you any letters, so I returned to Waterford for a while, then found work with your old friend Thomas White in Tenby.’

‘So, you’re a wine-merchant now?’ Jasper smiled at the thought.

‘I’ve been skippering his ships, sir, from Tenby to Cork and back.’ He returned Jasper’s smile. ‘The best of both worlds, although I often spared a thought for you here, while I was working hard.’

‘Well, it’s good to have you back.’ Jasper glanced at Henry. ‘You heard we made the mistake of trying to invade last winter?’

Gabriel nodded. ‘There was a story you were shipwrecked, but I know it would take more than that to stop you, sir.’

‘We won’t make that mistake again. We won’t set sail until the weather is set fair.’

‘You seem to have enough men, but I’ve heard them talking. Some are wondering if you have the money to pay their wages?’

‘We’re keeping our cards close, Gabriel. There could be spies for Richard among them, so it would be no bad thing for our enemies to think we’ve no money for an invasion.’

Henry agreed. ‘The Regent of France promised us forty thousand livres, and we will raise further loans when we need them. We have more than four hundred English exiles, including Sir John de Vere, Sir Edward Woodville and Sir Thomas Grey.’

‘And we’ve agreed to take French soldiers,’ Jasper added, ‘as well as artillerymen, together with their guns, which we can hire for the invasion.’

Gabriel rubbed his hands together. ‘There’s a lot of men in Wales waiting for your call, if what I’ve heard in Tenby and Pembroke is true, sir. Which reminds me—you mentioned Sir Thomas Grey, Marquess of Dorset?’

‘What of him, Gabriel?’ Jasper wondered if his instinct had been right.

‘It might be tavern talk but some of the men are saying his half-sister, Elizabeth Woodville, is to marry King Richard.’ He saw Henry’s frown. ‘Forgive me, Your Grace, her uncle Richard, who has usurped the throne.’

‘But Richard is married to Anne Neville?’ Jasper struggled to understand.

Gabriel shrugged. ‘They say his queen is gravely ill and might not last the year.’ He looked from Jasper to Henry, seeming not to appreciate the significance of his words. ‘You could find, sir, you have more than one enemy in your camp if the Woodville family are restored to favour.’

Jasper watched as the effort of the men heaving on the capstan was rewarded and the rusting iron anchor emerged dripping from the water. He felt the dull thump as it banged into place against the tar-painted hull and the ship lurched with sudden freedom. Flapping canvas sails filled with a freshening southerly breeze and at last, after more than a year of preparation, their
fleet was leaving Harfleur for the open sea.

He looked up at Henry, high on the raised afterdeck. Dressed in black he made a striking figure, flanked by
Sir John de Vere and
their arrogant but capable captain, Guillaume de Casenove. No one seeing him would suspect Henry’s fear of the sea after the near disaster of the last storm. His secret was safe. From now on Jasper would be Henry’s shadow, watching his back, advising and protecting their future king.

His own shadow spoke in a cheerful Irish voice. ‘Now isn’t that a sight, sir?’

At first he thought Gabriel meant Henry but realised he was talking about the fleet of thirty crowded ships following in their wake. Jasper studied them with the critical eye of one who has borrowed money for their hire. They sailed as one, arrayed like a flock of migrating geese behind the
Polain of Dieppe
, with its proud red dragon pennant flying from the main mast.

‘We’ve waited so long it warms my heart, Gabriel.’ He looked to see they could not be overheard. ‘There were times when I doubted we would ever see this day.’

Hard lessons had been learned in their earlier attempt. This time they waited for clear blue skies and were ready for the perfect tide. He watched the fleet begin to break formation. Bellowed commands carried across the water as each captain sought to make the most of the light winds which would carry them on to Wales.

He breathed the fresh sea air and felt a huge sense of relief after all that had happened.
In January, Sir John de Vere returned triumphant with thirty-seven members of the Hammes Castle garrison and Lady Blount. The trained men-at-arms were all professional soldiers, a welcome addition to their invading army. Although many had been York’s men, Jasper was satisfied they were loyal to Sir James Blount, former Captain of Hammes.

At the end of March they heard that the usurper’s queen, Anne Neville, had died in Westminster, on the same day as an eclipse of the sun, a bad omen for Richard. Rumours reached France that he now planned to marry Elizabeth of York, as if to spite Henry’s ambition. Elizabeth had been released from sanctuary and was enjoying the freedoms of the king’s court, together with her mother and sisters. It was said the match was viewed with suspicion by the people and had done nothing for Richard’s reputation.

Jasper was already considering alternative candidates for Henry’s queen, including Lady Katherine Herbert. Although the daughter of Jasper’s enemy William Herbert, Henry spent his childhood with Katherine at Herbert’s Raglan Castle in Wales, and she would serve to keep former Yorkist supporters in the fold.

Another of Gabriel’s concerns proved right when Sir Thomas Grey slipped away in the night from Montargis, taking several of his close associates. Jasper had ordered a watch over all those with Woodville connections and sent men in pursuit. They returned with Thomas Grey as prisoner and Henry ordered him to be left in France as security until their loans were all repaid.

Their benefactor Pierre Landais had been caught in Nantes and publicly hanged in July, although it saddened Jasper to learn his confession was extracted by torture. Jasper said a prayer for the soul of the clever and likeable man, who had saved Henry’s life and was guilty only of ambition.

The need to take a wide berth around Land’s End meant a full week passed before they entered the shelter of Milford Sound on the western coast of Wales. Although it remained light until late into the evening, the sun burned low in the sky with an amber glow, turning the sea to molten gold. Men shouted orders and ropes were hauled to reef the sails as they approached the rocky, pebble strewn shore.

Jasper felt a powerful surge of emotion at the thought of setting foot on Welsh soil after so many years in exile. As they drew closer, he could make out the familiar headland and the sheltered cove of Mill Bay. Chosen for privacy rather than practicality, the hidden cove was only accessible by ship at high tide but it would be a long march to the nearest village at Dale.

A figure appeared high on the path, waving an arm and calling to them. Jasper strained to hear what he was saying, mindful of the cruel trickery they suffered on their last landfall. He needn’t have worried, as more men appeared, cheering and waving in greeting. Boats were lowered and the small bay crowded with ships, some dropping anchor, others sailing right to the shore. There were splashes as the more eager men jumped into waist-deep water and waded ashore, rather than waiting their turn for the boats.

Jasper agreed to go ashore first and signal to Henry when he was sure it was safe. Thick rope netting was lowered over the side and he clambered over, followed by Gabriel into the already crowded longboat. The oarsmen were ready and at his nod pulled hard towards the shore, crunching the keel on the hard pebbles of the beach. He leapt out and cursed at the cold shock of water soaking his boots.

A handsome young soldier wearing shining armour stepped forward and reached out a welcoming hand to steady him. ‘You don’t recognise me, brother?’ The man had the soft local accent, and there was something familiar about his intelligent dark eyes, which fixed on Jasper’s as he waited for an answer.

‘Praise God!’ Jasper shook him by the hand as he saw the striking resemblance to his father. ‘David Owen, the boy who sparred with Henry in Pembroke Castle?’ The memory returned as if it were yesterday, instead of half a lifetime ago.

‘I am, and I’ve brought a dozen trusty men-at-arms from Pembroke to welcome you home.’

Jasper drew his sword and turned towards the
Polain of Dieppe
, raising the blade high in the air, he gave the sign they waited for. They watched as Henry’s boat approached and he stepped ashore to a rousing cheer from the growing crowd of men. Henry acknowledged them with a raised hand. He bent on one knee and lowered his head.

‘Judge me, O God, and plead my cause against an ungodly nation: O deliver me from the deceitful and unjust man.’

Jasper recognised the words of Psalm forty-three, which Henry once said carried a particular truth for him. The crowded bay fell silent as Henry stood and addressed the men, his new army. He said a prayer of thanks for their safe arrival and for God to witness their victory over their enemies.

‘I thank you all for your support, which will never be forgotten. There is much to do before we lose the light. Let us unload the ships and make for Dale, where we will set up camp.’ His voice echoed from the high cliffs, clear and confident, the voice of a future king.

As they began the long march up the steep, narrow path from Mill Bay, Gabriel pointed out to sea. ‘Our fleet is already trimming their sails, sir, ready to turn for home.’

‘There’s no going back now, Gabriel,’ Jasper admitted, ‘it was my idea, just like the skirmishers.’

‘Sail in and out fast, before anyone has the chance to spot them?’

‘We’ve no further use for those ships, and the crews have earned their pay.’

He looked behind to where teams of men followed. Some carried wheels, others shared the weight of the cannons, already straining as they clambered up the steep slope. The wagons they brought were designed to be dismantled for manhandling, although it was clear the burden of supplies they carried was already slowing them down.

‘We’ll need you to find us horses, soon as you can, Gabriel.’ Jasper grinned. ‘If we have to drag those guns all the way to London we’ll still be doing it at Christmas.’

After the first full night of sleep for a week in their temporary camp at Dale they set off at first light on the march to the market town of Haverfordwest, where they hoped to be greeted by a Welsh army. The skies were clear and scouts sent out at dawn returned with no reported enemy sightings. The air was filled with the sounds of men talking and laughing as they prepared for the day’s march.

Henry appeared, followed by David Owen. ‘We’ve had grave news.’ Henry’s earlier confidence seemed to be wavering. ‘Rhys ap Thomas has been made Lieutenant of South West Wales, as reward for not supporting Buckingham’s rebellion. There are rumours he is mustering more than a thousand men.’

‘Does he know we’re here?’ Jasper shook his head. ‘I can’t believe he would turn against us, Henry. His grandfather died at the side of yours at Mortimer’s Cross.’

Henry looked concerned. ‘We need him on our side, Uncle.’

‘I’ll ride ahead to find him. Gabriel will buy horses and we’ll travel faster than your men can march. We will meet you at Welshpool, God willing.’

‘We wish you God speed. Our future depends on it.’

Armed with a purse of gold coins Gabriel returned with half a dozen horses for the men Jasper had chosen, all loyal Welsh speakers from good families. If Rhys ap Thomas was Richard’s man, at least they might dissuade him from standing in Henry’s way. Better still, Jasper hoped to persuade the Welsh army to join them.

Gabriel handed him the reins of a fine Welsh cob. ‘She’s no destrier, sir, but she’ll do.’

Jasper turned to his waiting men, all mounted on Gabriel’s horses. ‘Follow my lead, and keep a sharp eye for the enemy. I don’t want to be caught in an ambush.’ Even as he said the words he had a flashback to the fateful day at Mortimer’s Cross.

As they were about to leave another rider joined them and he recognised his half-brother under the shining sallet helmet.

‘You don’t think I’d miss the chance to ride with you, Sir Jasper?’ David grinned.

‘You’re welcome, David. You know these roads better than I do.’

‘Word has it that Rhys ap Thomas is no longer in Carmarthen. His army marches to Llandovery. I can take you there by the shortest route.’

They rode at a fast pace through the Welsh countryside. Jasper was glad of the excuse to avoid the long, slow march, and to be doing something that could turn the tide for Henry. Stopping to water and rest the horses, they risked a meal in a tavern where the innkeeper was in talkative mood. He told them riders recently passed through on their way to join Rhys ap Thomas, who occupied the castle at Brecon, where he was mustering a great army.

Jasper smelt woodsmoke on the still night air before they even reached Brecon. They turned a corner and saw the lights of a hundred campfires. An army occupied the town, their tents lining the street on both sides far into the distance. Henry had been right. If they could not win over this Welsh army, their invasion would be at an end. He dismounted and turned to his men.

‘I will go in alone, and send for you when I know it’s safe.’

David also dismounted. ‘I should come with you,’ he handed his reins to Gabriel, ‘I know these men.’

‘You know they could arrest us as rebels?’

‘We have no choice. There must be over a thousand men here and more on the way.’ David looked Jasper in the eye. ‘I will come with you.’

Gabriel looked unhappy at the idea. ‘And if you don’t return?’

‘Then you must ride to Henry and warn him.’

They crossed the old drawbridge of Brecon Castle, guarded by two towers, and up to the main gate where they announced themselves to the guards. The captain of the guard soon appeared and led them through the noisy courtyard filled with soldiers to the great hall, where Rhys ap Thomas sat surrounded by his commanders. Jasper saw they had been drinking for some time, judging by the look of them.

A handsome, stocky man with long dark hair, Rhys ap Thomas wore a white surcoat with his distinctive badge of a black raven over a finely-made mail shirt. One of the richest and most powerful Welshmen alive, he looked every inch a knight. In England he would have been made an earl but because he was Welsh the English regarded him as a commoner.

Rhys ap Thomas studied them both as the guard commander introduced them, then gestured for them to take a seat at his table. ‘Welcome, Sir Jasper Tudor. I am honoured you’ve come all this way to see me at such a late hour.’

His strong Welsh accent was cultured and the buzz of conversation in the great hall fell silent as their attention turned to their visitors. Few of them would be old enough to have even heard of Jasper, and even those who did might fail to recognise him now his hair and beard were turning grey.

‘Too much rests on this to entrust it to a messenger. We’ve come to secure your support for my nephew, Henry Tudor, the true and rightful king.’ Jasper sounded more confident than he felt.

‘You know I refused to support Buckingham’s revolt? I’ve promised that Henry Tudor will only reach England over my dead body.’

Some of the men around Rhys ap Thomas laughed but Jasper knew everything they worked for depended on persuading this man to follow Henry. If he chose to, Rhys ap Thomas commanded enough men to drive Henry’s small army back into the sea.

‘I understand why you chose not to follow the Duke of Buckingham, an Englishman.’

Rhys ap Thomas nodded. ‘And now I am charged by another Englishman, King Richard to stop you,’ he glanced at the men flanking him, ‘and we’ve taken payment from the crown.’