"Aye, well, Margaret is but a shy girl. No one rule applies to every
one of us," he said with a smile.
"And that is one of the reasons for my summoning you here. Sir
Thomas, I have invited you to this rather informal meeting to
discuss a matter that is paradoxically very grave indeed. I believe
you know of what I am speaking."
"Aye, I believe I do, Lady Topaz, but I have been wrong before."
"But first, tell me what goes on at court. I hear nothing from my
sister Amethyst, for she refuses to repeat what she considers
'tittle-tattle.'"
"'Tis only tittle-tattle when it is not true, is that not so?"
"Aye. However, she feels it is beneath her to be the bearer of
second-hand news. I wish she would tell me what is going on. The way
rumors spread about this kingdom, it needs someone who will repeat
truths and not malicious lies."
"You are so right, Lady Topaz."
"Warwickshire could certainly use some news from court. These poor
villagers are starved for tidbits about their King and his new
queen."
"As starving as the landed gentry for a unified kingdom under a
unified church, my lady?"
She laughed. They were going to be equals in this endeavor. Nothing
was going to get by Thomas. "Aye, Sir Thomas. We have a right to
know; after all, we are all his subjects. What has transpired
between the King and the little minx— his fair Queen?"
"They have been estranged for some time now, Lady Topaz. The King
has been in a bad way. Oh, he has been suffering greatly. Not even
your dear sister, his closest confidante, or his loyal old fool Will
Somers, have been much comfort to him."
"What is amiss then?" She leaned forward, her toes curling round the
edge of the footstool in anticipation of the sack of goodies that
More was about to spill before her. The more she knew about the
King's emotional fragility, the more acute her advantage, to
surprise him while at his most vulnerable.
"If you wish me to keep this in confidence, I shall, Sir Thomas. I
confess I am asking you for my own selfish reasons, which we will
discuss at length after you reveal to me what kind of havoc Queen
Anne wreaks over our King."
More laughed, took a breath and sat back in the chair, crossing his
legs comfortably.
Aye, do be comfortable, Sir Thomas
, Topaz thought,
for we
are going to be good friends.
"Is more ale in order, Sir Thomas?"
"Nay, this is as much as I can handle. You needn't loosen my lips
with ale, Lady Topaz. I shall tell you all. And you needn't keep it
secret."
"That was not my intention, Sir Thomas!" She managed to keep a
straight face.
"Indeed. So...about the King. I am greatly worried about him. Not
only because of his disenchantment with me over of what transpired
between us, but because of the effect Queen Anne has had upon
him...this is nothing new. It has been going on for some time now,
since before their marriage."
"So I heard. First she drove him crazy with intrigue over her, then
she presented him with a wench. Not a very lucky card she drew that
time."
"The poor King is fraught with worry and unease. He believes Anne is
a witch!"
"A...what? A witch?" Topaz looked away, elation simmering through
her like a bubbling pot of potage. She hadn't expected anything
quite this absurd! She'd always known Henry would snap under all the
pressure he'd never been equipped to handle. He was not a warrior
like his father. His victories over France notwithstanding, he spent
more time slaughtering deer in his royal forests and prancing about
on tennis courts than he ever did in the council chamber. Now it was
happening at last—he'd finally gone scranny. "Whatever makes him
think that?"
"Anne herself."
"She told him she was a witch?" she gasped.
He shook his head. "Nay, she does not have to tell him. She shows
him. Look at the turn of events since his marriage to her. First it
started with her lies. She lied about being with child. She claims
Mark Smeaton is no more than her personal musician, but the entire
court believes otherwise. The King... He tends to side with the
court but dares not admit it. Then the murders—"
"Who has she murdered?" Topaz barely whispered as her heart leapt
with lusty glee.
"Her malevolence towards Bishop Fisher caused the King to execute
him five months ago. His parboiled head still rots upon a spike on
London Bridge. Fisher had been poisoned before that, at his home.
Some of his servants had died, but Fisher lived a while longer only
to lose his life on the scaffold.
"There were other mysterious deaths. Wolsey, who fell from grace at
Anne's doing, died a mysterious death. Warham suddenly died, at the
time when Anne decided she wanted him out of the way. Her former
lover Percy is now dying of a mysterious wasting disease. The King's
sister Mary, who'd refused to attend Anne's coronation, fell
mysteriously ill and died. Now the King's son Henry Fitzroy is
gravely ill. Then there's the King's leg ulcer."
Amethyst had mentioned something about the King having trouble with
his leg, at about the same time he began putting on weight, when his
marriage to Anne had started to go truly sour.
At first he had told no one but her, her sister had reported. He'd
always managed to escape state affairs and banquets and retire to
his chambers so that she or Dr. Butts could change his bandages and
place a draining cup against the wound. She'd learned that technique
from Topaz, having watched her tend her animals. Now it was helping
the King, the blasted despicable King! How ironic!
"And Henry attributes all these mysterious deaths to the workings of
Anne, whom he believes is a witch?"
"You must admit, Madam, it is too bizarre to be coincidence."
"So you believe she's a witch then, too? Oh, Sir Thomas, never would
I think you would be so credulous, especially since you speak out
against fortune telling, astrology, and all those supernatural
phenomena in 'Utopia.'"
"Nay, madam, I do not believe that at all. She may be dispensing
poisons, aye, that is quite possible. But a witch? No, it cannot be.
I am a scientist. An astronomer. I gaze out at the stars and am
fascinated at the idea of other heavenly worlds beyond our own, but
I do not believe there is anything beyond what we can see. Granted,
the stars are in the heavens and we shall never reach them, but with
a good telescope, we can certainly see them. Witchery or demons, we
see those in our minds. They are not of the same flesh as we. We can
never touch them. They are not material as we know it."
"I should not think you would believe something so preposterous.
That would never stand up in court, would it, Sir Thomas?" They
laughed together, the level-headed realist and the scientifically
minded lawyer, united in their common bond in a desire to end the
Tudor dynasty and a fond longing to bring about a Utopia.
"The King is not thinking straight. He sees the Queen only during
affairs of state, and retires to his chambers immediately. He avoids
her constantly. He has been known to say on more than one occasion
that he believes he will be Anne's next victim!"
"Hmmm, that is intriguing. As one so close to court, what do you
think, Sir Thomas? Will Anne choose Henry to be the next victim of
her 'spells' or does she wish to live out the rest of her days as
queen consort?"
"It will be interesting to see, Lady Topaz."
Perhaps she should bide her time just a bit longer, she thought. If
Anne did plan to weave a spell over the King and cause his demise,
it would save her quite a bit of trouble. The chronically ill and
neurotic Mary would be much easier to oust from the throne, given
her dubious legitimacy. "Let us see," she thought out loud.
"Aye, no need to jump to conclusions." More knew exactly what she
was thinking.
"This indeed ties in with the matter I wished to discuss with you,
Sir Thomas. I hear you are one of the few of the King's subjects who
refused to take the oath to the Act of Succession."
A slice of a smile lightened his face but he remained silent.
"Let me commend you on your strength and ability to uphold the
courage of your convictions."
"I was not able to bring myself to sign it simply because I could
not compromise my principles. I do not agree with his position as
head of the Church and as fond as I am of the King, I believe his
tyrannical ways will not serve the best interests of the kingdom."
"Indeed. And we know what will. As official sworn enemies of the
King, as you now must admit you are, we must not stop here. You are
aware of my background, that Henry the Seventh killed my great-uncle
King Richard and later executed my father. My lifelong quest has
been to restore the crown to its rightful recipients, the
Plantagenets. I trust you are of the same belief, Sir Thomas."
She needn't ask him. There was no question about it. She was
speaking with the man who was destined to be her closest ally—who,
having defied the King by refusing to sign his name to Elizabeth's
right to the crown, was willing to sacrifice his life for his
beliefs.
"I always felt that way, Lady Topaz. Several of my family members
fought beside Richard at Bosworth, but not so much for Richard as
against Henry Tudor."
Very cunningly put, she thought. He was a true lawyer.
"So then you will help me oust Henry and his Tudor bastards from the
throne that they never should have seized to begin with?"
"Aye, I shall help you in any way I am able, Lady Topaz. The kingdom
deserves to be ruled by its rightful heirs. Henry is a tyrant and as
such will not last long anyway."
"Unless the Wicked Witch gets to him first."
"You are with me, Lady Topaz."
She nodded. "As such, we shall wait. Keep a close eye on the Queen.
Either way, Henry's days are numbered."
A grin approaching that of lechery broke out on Thomas' sullen face
and he held his goblet out to clink hers.
"That is why I asked you to bring the list." Her inquiring glance
scanned his person.
"Ah, yes, the list." His blue-gray eyes twinkled as he patted his
doublet in a quick search and extracted several sheets of parchment.
She could see the edge of his hair shirt as he leaned over and
thought she detected a grimace of pain as he moved. Why some people
went to such preposterous extremes in the name of religion, she
would never know.
"Here it is, Lady Topaz, directly from the King's personal archives
of the Chapter Library at Windsor Castle. A comprehensive list of
every nobleman and knight who fought in the Battle of Bosworth, for
Henry Tudor. Also, from the personal archives of Eleanor Essex, a
granddaughter of King Richard's sister Elizabeth, a list of
Richard's peers and proclaimed traitors."
He held it out to her and she eagerly snatched it out of his hand,
her eyes hungrily scouring the list, her teeth scraping over her
lips.
"Ah, yes, Sir Thomas. Who have we here...traitors, let us see
Richard's traitors..." She let out a peal of laughter at the first
name on the list. "Henry Tudor, Earl of Richmond! Top of the traitor
list! So the list is in descending order? I expect my father was at
the top of Tudor's list of traitors, or was he not meticulous enough
to have recorded such a list?"
"I know not if Henry kept a list of his traitors, Lady Topaz," More
replied, not showing so much as a hint of a smile. "Perhaps he kept
the list in his head."
"Nay, impossible, there were too many," she said with a dismissive
wave. "No one could keep a list of that length in such a pea-sized
head."
She returned back to the top of the list, which she found infinitely
amusing. "Henry Tudor, Earl of Richmond, indeed," she snorted. "He
never even was Earl of Richmond. His father was attainted and the
title reverted to Richard. Just shows what a fraudulent humbug he
was, all the way down to his bogus title. All those Tudors are
frauds!"
She flipped one page over and began scanning the next. She turned
the second page over, her lips moving as her finger trailed the
page. "...Sir William Cheney, John Cheney, Sir William Noreys,
Richard Beauchamp of Saint Mand, William Knyvett, Sir William
Hunter, pardoned, Sir George Brown of Bletchworth, executed at
Maidstone, Sir John Gilford...Hah!" she exclaimed. "The dear old
father-in-law I never met gave his life for the old Tudor goat. No
wonder Hal suckles up to Matthew like a piglet at feeding time."
"I expect most of these soldiers are deceased, Lady Topaz. Those of
the living are old men now."
She gave an airy wave. "That matters not. They have sons and
grandsons. They were brought up hating the Tudors for the frauds
that they are. Then there are the sons of those who fought for Taffy
Harry. All ragged urchins who grew up never having known their
fathers, because they died to put Taffy Harry on the throne. I
venture to say there is more than a little resentment on their
parts! Not to mention all the enemies this present Henry has
collected with his banishment of Queen Catherine and his taking up
with the goggle-eyed whore."