The Queen of Last Hopes (30 page)

“Did you get lost?” Charles asked.

“Your mother needed a rest from riding, that’s all,” I said solemnly, tousling my son’s head. “But come! It may be a while before I get to see you again. Would you like to ride with me a while?”

“Yes!”

“Then you shall,” I promised, and settled first Joan, and then my son, in their places. I grinned as our little family made its way in the direction of London, Charles holding the reins. “Easy there, lad. We don’t want to scare your mother.”

***

The next morning, Edward and his men, myself among them, departed for the North. In my own good-sized entourage came Edmund and John. Edward had eyed them a little askance, perhaps thinking that three Beauforts were two more than he had bargained for, but he’d said nothing.

By nightfall, we were in Northampton, where we stayed as guests in the castle there. After supper, where I sat at the high table with the king, I and my brothers decided to take advantage of the merriment and dancing afterward to slip over to the Grey Friars and pay our respects at the tomb of the first Duke of Buckingham, who’d fallen in battle here. His eldest son, dead himself through the plague, had been married to our sister Meg, and I knew she would appreciate the gesture.

My youngest brother, however, at seventeen had other thoughts in his mind as we pushed our way through the castle’s crowded great hall. “Are there any good—er—houses here?”

“Didn’t you have a chance to visit Southwark when you were in London?”

“With Mother around so much?” John asked plaintively. “And that’s like saying a man shouldn’t eat on Thursday because he ate on Tuesday, anyway.”

“Let’s visit the duke’s tomb first, shall we?” I said sternly. “And don’t expect me to join in; I have to attend the king to bed to—What the hell are you about?”

Two men, not in the king’s livery but evidently some of the townspeople who had been invited to dine here tonight, had seized me and were wrestling me against the wall. “Filthy Lancastrian dog!”

Edmund and John tried to drag my attackers off me, only to be knocked away by two more men, who were quickly joined by others. John fell to the ground, while Edmund was able to reach for his dagger. All he could do, though, was defend himself; there were too many of them on me now, punching, kicking, yanking on my jewels and clothes as I fought back as best I could. As my own men ran over, followed by more townspeople and turning what had been an isolated attack on me into a full-fledged brawl, the largest of my attackers shoved me to my knees and held up a dagger. “What say we kill him, mates, as he did the good Duke of York?”

“Kill the traitor! Kill the traitor!”

“Halt!” Edward stormed through the crowd and knocked the dagger out of my would-be assassin’s hand. He pulled me to my feet, then spun the man to face him as everyone fell still and silent. “What means this?”

“We only tried to rid you of a traitor, your grace. One who means to do you harm.”

“The Duke of Somerset has been attending me for months now. He has slept in my bed, gone hunting with me when three out of six of the men present were his own. Do you not think that he would have done me harm long before this if that were his intention? Well? Don’t you?”

“We—we didn’t think, your grace.”

“Well, that’s damned obvious.” Edward laid a hand on my shoulder, which made me wince with pain as I stood gasping for breath against the wall. “Now, gentlemen, we are heading north to subdue the Frenchwoman and her foreign armies. While I appreciate your concern for my welfare, it would be much better directed toward our enemies than toward loyal men like the duke here who have repented of their past allegiance. Now, don’t you agree?”

A rather sullen affirmative murmur ensued. Edward grinned. “I don’t like to see loyalty, even misguided loyalty, go unrewarded. Hastings, arrange for a tun of wine to be brought into the marketplace for these good men and their fellows to share. Now, come! Let our hearts be light. Musicians!”

The king’s minstrels struck up a tune as Edward turned to me. “Go to your chambers. I’ll speak to you later.”

Half supported by Edmund and John and trailed by my men, I limped out of the great hall.

***

“I was nearly killed down there, and you’re sending
me
away? Your grace! I was minding my own business, talking to my brothers, not provoking anyone, when I was attacked.”

“I know. But it’s a delicate situation. With Margaret staging this invasion of hers, and your having been so closely allied with her, men are suspicious.”

“No one tried to attack me in London. No one may try to attack me in the next town.” I glared at my servant as he scrubbed too hard at some dried blood on my cheek. “Easy there.”

“It’s a chance I can’t take, either for your own safety or the realm’s—or mine. There are men who have never reconciled themselves to my reign, men who never will. One more incident like this could bring them to the fore. And I’m sending you to Chirk, one of your own castles. Hardly exile.”

“I’ve never seen the place.”

“Time you did, then.”

I stared down at the latest bruise beginning to announce itself on my arm. God only knew what I would look like the next morning. “So I rusticate, and the townspeople get free wine. How come it seems that I’m getting the worse of the bargain?”

Edward shrugged. “It placated them, what I can say? And your stay in Chirk will only be for a few months. Maybe less, depending on developments. And I shall send a contingent of your own men to guard Newcastle for me, to show my trust in you.” He started to clap me on my shoulder, then thought better of it this time. “We’ll be staying here for a few days. You can wait for a day or so before departing as long as you stay out of public view here; you’ll be miserable if you try to ride in your condition.”

“I’ll not stay where I’m not wanted.” I pressed a cold cloth against my blackening eye. “I’ll be off at first light tomorrow.”

Located on the Welsh march, not far from Chester, Chirk was a large, well-kept castle—after all, my great-uncle, Cardinal Beaufort, had thought well enough of the place and the lordship that came with it to purchase it from the crown a couple of decades before. There was good hunting there, and since my lands had been in the hands of others for so long, there was plenty for me to do in getting my affairs back in order. But I could not escape the feeling that I was a sort of prisoner, especially when the king did not send for me after news arrived that Henry and Margaret’s invasion had failed. On the couple of occasions when I wrote to remind Edward that I was still alive, I was told politely but firmly that I had best stay on my estates.

Then in late September, I had a visitor—not an envoy from the king, but my older brother. “Tom!” I said, staring at him as he came into my chamber. He was thin, his clothes threadbare and his hair unkempt beneath his faded cap. I moved to embrace him, but he stepped back. “You’ve left Henry?”

“Do you think I’d ever do that?”

“Well, you’re here,” I said reasonably. “It’s a possibility.”

“I’m dead if Edward’s men catch me. And the queen would probably kill me as well. But I stole here to see you.” He stared at me in my rich clothes—there really wasn’t much to do at Chirk except to dress well and hunt. “And now that I’m seeing you, I’m not sure whether I like what I see. You’re living quite well as a Yorkist, aren’t you? Is it worth the price of your soul? No wonder you stole off from me at Bamburgh, not telling anyone that you planned to go over to Edward.”

“It’s not that simple.” I looked at Tom, who’d taught me how to ride, patiently stood by while I learned to shoot at butts, knelt by my side after St. Albans. If he had ever resented the fact that our mother’s grand second marriage had made me a duke and him a mere lord, he’d never shown it. “I couldn’t tell you; I was afraid you’d talk me out of it. I wasn’t even entirely sure myself until the words came out of my mouth. And I didn’t know how generous Edward would be.”

“I see you didn’t call him the king. A slip? Or does it stick in your mouth?”

“Tom, leave off, for Christ’s sake.”

“Oh, hell. Maybe I should just go back from where I came.”

“Go back? Are you mad? Not until I get some food in you and some decent clothes on your back. Please, Tom. Stop looking at me as if I have leprosy. That’s the way everyone in Edward’s court looks at me. I don’t need it from you too. Would you just sit down and talk to me like my brother, and not like an enemy?”

Tom finally nodded. “I still want to shake you.”

“Have some wine first.” I waved to a servant. “Bring us some wine and something to eat. I won’t be going hunting today. Sit, Tom.”

My brother obediently sat in the chair I indicated. He looked even shabbier sitting than he did standing. “Does everyone in Henry’s court look as bad as you?”

“No, not quite. Henry’s at Edinburgh in Bishop Kennedy’s care, and is comfortable enough under the circumstances. I’ve been at Bamburgh, stirring up what trouble I can. Conditions are pretty harsh there.” He stared at me. “I can trust that you won’t tell Edward that?”

“Tom, if you can say that, you must not know me at all. Why don’t you just leave?”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I do know you better.” A servant poured wine for us and set down some bread. “Thank you.”

I watched as Tom tried not to show how hungry he was. “You’re not eating horsemeat there again, I hope?”

“No, things aren’t that bad. Yet.”

I hesitated before I dared to ask my next question. “How is she?”

“She?”

“For God’s sake, Tom, don’t be like this. Margaret. And no, I don’t mean Margaret our sister, or our cousin Margaret. I mean that Margaret.”

“I figured as much,” Tom said. “She’s in France with her father.”

“Then she’s safe and comfortable, at least.”

Tom’s eyes flashed all of a sudden. “I suppose your precious king gloated about Norham to you, about how the filthy Scots abandoned us?”

“I heard about Norham, yes. Not from the king personally. I’ve not seen or spoken to him since July.”

“Well, did you know the queen almost got killed by brigands after that fiasco at Norham, when she was escaping? That’s how safe and comfortable she was.”

“For God’s sake, leave off!” I leaned forward, fighting off sickness, for I’d not heard this story. But I did need to know more. “Did the brigands—”

“Rape her? No, it appears that she came close to it, but one of them took pity on her and brought her to safety. Pierre de Brézé got her safely abroad, with Exeter and others.”

“Thank God she was spared that. Did she talk of me before she left?”

“She called you pretty much what you would expect after she heard the news that you’d gone over to York. After that, not a word about you. She’s too proud. And you wouldn’t want to hear it if she did.”

“I wouldn’t mind, actually. I’m fonder of castigating myself than you might think. Having it come from another mouth would be diverting.”

“That’s the one thing I can’t understand. I know you were reaching the end of your tether there at Bamburgh. Sometimes I think I’m coming close to it myself. But how could you abandon her? Or not so much her, since you told me she ended your physical relationship, but her cause. That’s the worst of it. Why did you desert us, knowing how badly it would hurt her?”

“I don’t know.” I put my head in my hands. “I like to think that it wasn’t because she did end our physical relationship, but who knows? Maybe I’m the vile creature she thinks I am.”

Tom got up and walked toward the window as I sat there in a miserable silence. “It is pleasant here,” he ventured.

“It’s dreary and dull. Tell Margaret that, it will please her. The men of Northampton tried to kill me, did you know that? If I venture off my estates here someone’s liable to try again. And the ones at Edward’s court who don’t try to murder me won’t speak a civil word to me. The only one of the lot who has any use for me is the king himself, and I’m beginning to doubt that too, since he sent me here and seems to have no interest whatsoever in bringing me back to court. Don’t even think of becoming a Yorkist, Tom. It’s not nearly as amusing as they say it is.”

Tom walked back to my side and put his arm around me, and my mind flashed back to a time when I was four and he had consoled me after I’d fallen off my pony.

“When you’re ready to come back, Hal, you only have to say so.”

***

Tom stayed at Chirk for the next few days. I would have liked to have introduced him to the fine sport of otter hunting—it was quite the thing for us at Chirk—but under the circumstances, he had to keep within the castle walls and out of the public view. He and my younger brothers and I diced and played cards a great deal. For the rest of his short visit, we avoided the subject of Lancaster and York altogether.

Then, just after dawn a few days later, Tom came to bid me farewell. With him were Edmund and John, dressed in warm cloaks. “You’re going over to Lancaster.” I glared at Tom. “You talked them into this?”

“No, it was our idea.” Edmund looked straight into my eyes. “I love you, Hal. I know you did what you did partly for me, and I’m grateful. But Edward’s not my king and never can be. I can’t stomach this life anymore.”

“And I want to go with Edmund,” said John. That was no surprise; John had always trailed behind Edmund the way I had trailed behind Tom growing up.

“Then God be with you.”

Edmund started. “You’re not going to try to stop us?”

“No. How could I? Throw you into a dudgeon? You must do what you think is right.” I handed Tom a purse. “This was going to be for you, but it’ll have to do for the three of you now, for it’s all I have to spare. But wait.” I pulled two rings off my fingers and gave one to Edmund, one to John. “Surely someone will give you some gold for these.”

“Hal, you know that anything you give us is going to be used to aid Henry’s cause.”

“I don’t know that, actually. You can give it to the Church, go on a spree, eat yourselves silly on it. I don’t need to know what you do with it, and I’d rather not know.”

Tom reached for me and locked me in a long embrace. “Go with God, little brother,” he said when he finally released me.