The Illegitimate Tudor

by James M Stuart

  ‘Nah, I don’t believe that. He doesn’t like you, because you’re not a very good student, Ed,’ Jane said giggling.

  I smiled. ‘Truth is, Latin’s never been my good spot, I prefer the art of fencing than the one of praying.’

  ‘Typical, men…’ Jane said scornfully. ‘My Richard though is not like that. He’s inclined to the fine arts, he writes poetry and plays the harp,’ she said proudly, her cheeks blushing.

  I foresaw what was to come. Jane seemed to be very much in love with her fiancé and with every opportunity she found, she started bragging about how perfect he was, or more accurately how perfect he was in her eyes. Truth be told, I did not like the lad. Not that he was a bad person, but I considered him too hollow for a man of his age. He was nineteen years of age and never cared about warfare, just for music and poetry. In fact, he was so enthusiastic about these two and so unattracted to any kind of weapons, that I worried that he might not be a man at all. Maybe he was a eunuch… God forbid! Jane would be so disappointed. I could see it in her eyes how much she was looking forward to her wedding night.

  ‘Although, I would be very interested in hearing more about your fiancé’s numerous qualities, Jane,’ I started, trying to keep a straight face. ‘I need to get ready. ‘I’d like to do some sword practice before our guests arrive.’

  Jane departed with a frown on her face. Right after she had left though, one of the housemaids entered my chamber and brought a wooden bucket, full of clean, cold water.

  ‘Thanks, Mary,’ I said and grabbed the bucket from her hands.

  ‘Need any help washin’, Master Edward?’ Mary said and gave me a lusty look. She was a fine young lass, around my age, with long brown hair and matching eyes.

  ‘No time for that, now, love,’ I said looking at her bemused. She turned and went to leave clearly disappointed, and I added: ‘Maybe, tonight after the big dinner… Or perhaps during dinner. Now I come to think of it, it’ll definitely be boring for me, and I heard my new brother-in-law’s sister is no beauty.’

  Mary got her hopes up, after glancing quickly behind her to check that there was no one eavesdropping or peaking, she gave me a kiss on the lips, whilst simultaneously putting her hand under my nightgown. What followed was inevitable…

  ‘I hope that will make your day easier, Master Edward,’ Mary said several minutes later when we were done. I grinned and laid back on my pillows.

  After washing her face in the same bucket of cold water she had brought for me, she left the room with nothing but a lovely smile on her face. We had been lovers for over two years, though not exclusive, as I could not resist seducing some of the other maids too.

  Whether my parents knew about my affairs with the servants, I did not know, nor did I care, because they could not take this pleasure away from me, not whilst they so persistently kept me unmarried. If Father Edmund, though knew that I was humping women before marriage, I am sure he would be even more furious than my parents, not mention the way I was doing it.

  As in all matters in life, Church dictates when and how to have sexual intercourse. The Church Officials always claim that God does not permit sexual relationships between a man and a woman prior to their marriage and when they do get married, the only reason to have intercourse is to procreate, never for pleasure. Furthermore, the single appropriate position is the so-called missionary position, where the woman lays down and the man on top of her. Needless to say, if someone does not keep in line with these rather strict regulations is a sinner and will burn in Hell with all the other abominations of his kind, which means that all the men in this world have doomed their souls to the internal fires of Devil’s Hell!

  Shaking off that thought, I approached the bucket and leaned over it, checking my reflection. A handsome young man, with black eyes, long black hair falling untidily to the shoulders and a short black beard with a slightly pointy nose and chin, was staring back at me. I smiled to myself. I was feeling much more cheerful and had almost forgotten about the dream. The presence of Jane and Mary had improved my mood considerably.

  Now I had to get ready for some sword training, and before long I would have to put in some fancy outfit and greet the quests with the rest of the family at dusk. I cupped my hands, dipped them into the water and then splashed it on my face to clean off my eyes’ tiredness.

  *

  I was still practising with my sword when the guests arrived. My trainer had long left, and I was now sword-fighting with a dummy. The sun had set without me realising how dark it had grown around me. I was also producing clouds with my rapid breathing, as the cold had risen with the falling of the night. Nevertheless, hitting the dummy again and again with different moves was keeping me warm. I was wondering how it would be in a real battle, with live soldiers that were armed to the teeth and could think for themselves.

  I had never been in a real battle before and had not known the fear that you face prior to and during one. Back then I was young and naïve and thinking that brave men knew no fear, which is utterly false, as even the most courageous men that walk this world are afraid of the terrors of war. I have seen men shit their breeches out of fear, seen them vomiting uncontrollably, seen them crying and calling for their mothers, seen them praying to God to deliver them a clean and quick death. There is nothing glorious about war, only the glory of a fool who walks into death’s open arms and barely escapes, but then with the first opportunity, he does it again; for this world is always at war. I used to crave that… I wanted to fight in real battles and gain fame and glory, inspire poets to make up songs about my victories that would last generations after my death, but I knew nothing. Nothing could have prepared me for what I experienced later in my life.

  ‘Master Edward,’ it was Mary the maid again, who had interrupted my practice, she had come to fetch me, and it was with a heavy heart that I had to go back to the house to get dressed for the big occasion.

  ‘Your mother is really angry with you, Master Edward. The guests arrived half an hour ago, and she says you were supposed to be at the front gate with the rest of the family to greet their carriage,’ said Mary as we headed back to the house. She was not looking at me, apparently afraid of my reaction. From the whole household, I had been the least enthusiastic about this wedding.

  ‘I don’t give a damn about our fancy guests, Mary. It’s not me getting married, is it?’ I said bitterly. ‘Anyway, Margot is so young to be getting married and then it will be Jane’s turn, who’s even younger…’

  ‘Margot’s eighteen, Master. She’s a grown woman, she should’ve already got her first child; and Jane’s about the right age,’ answered Mary firmly. She was, of course, right, I just did not want to admit it. It is very typical for the women in our times to get married from the age of sixteen or eighteen, sometimes even younger. A girl becomes a woman the moment she starts bleeding and thus she can bear children, after that she is considered old enough to have a consummated marriage. That was precisely what I feared, their wedding night. Notably, for Jane, not that I did not love or cared for Margot, but Jane was younger and gentler and somehow more fragile. I would not want her to get hurt. I thought that if those bastards ever mistreated their wives, my sisters, I would hunt them down and flay them alive.

  After a short walk, we entered the house and were separated, Mary headed down to the kitchens, whilst I tip-toed upstairs to my chamber to change to something more appropriate for the occasion, as I doubted my training armour, leather gauntlets, and black boots would be suitable.

  The house, lit by numerous candles which were hanging on the walls, was noisy. The commotion was of course coming from the dining chamber where everyone had gathered, and so I joined them a while later after I had put my formal attire. A red velvet doublet with long sleeves and broad shoulders, black trousers, and a pair of tall brown boots. As for my hair, I had tied half of them at the sides, whilst the rest hang loosely on my shoulders. However, I had not bothered trimming my beard, leaving it a bit wild and unkempt.
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  I reached the doors of the dining chamber, but before I pushed them open, I took a deep breath, I was planning to spend no more than two hours in there, and then I would excuse myself and leave, maybe sneak to the kitchen to find Mary.

  As the doors opened the noise of the dining chamber swarmed onto me like a wave. My family and guests were all sitting around a long rectangular table and judging by the cluttering of the knives on the plates they were already eating. It was an enormous high-ceiling room with the dining table right in the middle, which incidentally was so long that even its current ten occupants could not even fill it by half, so they were all concentrated on the one side of it to be closer to each other. The primary source of light in there was a large stone-bricked fireplace, which was situated on the right side of the table. All around the walls were various paintings and portraits of unknown to me people, who seemed to be gazing down at the table hungrily like they had conscious of their own and wanted to consume the food that was being served every evening right under their noses.

  With great reluctance, I moved towards the table and no sooner had I taken my first step than my mother spotted me. She greeted me with a disgusted glance, but then recovered quite fast and stood up to announce me.

  ‘Edward, my boy,’ she said with a fake smile, she was clearly furious for my lateness. ‘My lord Welthemore, My Lady Welthemore, I would like you to meet my eldest child and only son, Edward,’ she exclaimed very formally waving her hand at my direction and looking at my sister’s soon-to-be parents-in-law.

  I turned my gaze at them and could not help but chuckle with the appearance of Lord and Lady Welthemore, as they were so obviously rich that if I had the tiniest doubt that this marriage was being made for profit, it had now disappeared. ‘How do you do?’ I said eventually, trying to disguise my mockery in my tone.

  ‘Very well, thank you,’ replied Lord Welthemore smiling rather stonily, inclining his head. He had not even bothered to stand from his chair and greet me properly, which indicated that he was as displeased with my late appearance as my mother, or maybe he was just unable to lift his weight off the chair, due to the enormity of his clearly visible belly and the rather heavy-looking golden chain he was wearing around his neck, which was definitely adding a few stones on his already overweight body. Lady Welthemore, on the other hand, did not utter a single word nor offered any kind of pleasantries.

  Thinking that I had better get this obligatory dinner over with as soon as possible, I sat in the vacant seat between my mother and Margot. Everyone on the table turned and looked at me awkwardly. It was as if I had disturbed their peace; an outsider in their midst. That was my house, though and I would not have allowed any strangers no matter how wealthy they were and what titles the bore to intimidate me and make me feel guilty, just because I had been late for their idiotic and pretentious dinner…

  ‘So, what were you talking about Lord Welthemore before my son interrupted us,’ my mother said without looking at me.

  ‘I was merely pointing out how lovely is the meal you have prepared us tonight,’ he said without smiling, he did not seem a particularly pleasant man to be around with. He stroked his white, neatly trimmed beard and drunk some wine from his silver goblet.

  ‘Oh, it is our pleasure, of course,’ said my mother in such an extravagant tone that made me want to vomit from disgust.

  As I had expected, it was a dull gathering, not to mention incredibly awkward. The people that mostly spoke was my mother, who was trying her best to impress our guests, and Lord Welthemore, whilst the rest of us ate our meal in silence, glancing uncomfortably to one another.

  The Lady Welthemore, my sister’s stupid looking fiancé, the twin brothers and the ugly, fat sister had an expression that they would rather be anywhere else than here. As for my sisters, Jane was smiling a silly unnecessary smile, staring at my mother, probably taking lessons of how to embarrass oneself in front of strangers; and Margot looking at her fiancé expectantly with no returning glance from the bastard. Finally, my father seemed to be doing his best to look serious but still looked like an overdressed aspiring lord. After a while though, he dutifully joined my mother in trying to impress the Welthemores, who incidentally with every passing moment seemed to be very challenging guests.

  Shortly afterwards, Lord Welthemore started to talk about politics and the time he was spending in London, in the King’s Court. My father had little to say on the matter, as he had never even visited the capital. However, my mother had been in London in her youth and seemed to remember enough of the city to shift the conversation from politics to sightseeing. Lord Welthemore once more did not look pleased. In fact, he appeared increasingly unsure about his eldest son’s match with Margot. As I said we were not, royals or lords, we were just wealthy, which sometimes was not enough…

  Two hours later, my boredom was beyond me. I was feeling my eyelids dropping more and more, whilst Lord Welthemore was lecturing us about the endless war with our neighbour countries. It was a game of war, full of conspiracies and continually failed alliances between the four most prominent and most prosperous nations of our age; the Kingdom of England, the Kingdom of France, the Spanish Empire and the Holy Roman Empire, although the last two had joined forces under one monarch, Emperor Charles V. And why would that interest me? I had never so far in my life been intrigued by the kings’ games. We, the ordinary folk, and by ordinary, I mean people that could not possibly have any influence in the politics of our kingdom; are but pawns on a chessboard, strategically positioned and ready to make our move whenever and wherever our game-master decides to…

  My attention had drifted away completely now, and I had only just managed to stay awake. Thus, I decided it was about time to take my leave. I excused myself, telling them I had to use the lavatory, although I had no intention to return. The rest of the house was quieter, darker and more welcoming after the bright dining room. ‘Cretins!’ I mumbled to myself as I was climbing the stairs to the upper floor.

  ‘Edward?’ said a soft voice behind me.

  I turned. It was Margot, who like her sister had blonde hair, somewhat shorter though. ‘Sister?’

  ‘You are not coming back to the dinner!’ It was not a question.

  ‘What for?’ I said rather aggressively. ‘I’m sure no one will miss me…’

  ‘The whole family ought to be there, Edward,’ she said rather firmly, reminding me of my mother. ‘’Tis expected of us… Of you!’

  ‘Well, ’tis expected of them to be courteous, but they aren’t,’ I responded headstrongly. ‘Did you see the look on their faces when I turned up late?’

  ‘You shouldn’t have been late,’ Margot said, her tone becoming more menacing with every sentence. I did not answer; instead, I gave her a dirty look, and so she went on. ‘It is for my wedding, Edward. You know how important this is for me. Why couldn’t you be there on time with the rest of the family? Why do you always have to complicate things?’ she asked exasperated, her eyes starting to glitter.

  ‘Oh, my dear, Margot,’ I said trying to sound sympathetic, but it was more like a mockery. I had never liked Margot as much as Jane. ‘Don’t you see? Don’t you realise? This isn’t about you. ’Tis about one rich family joining another even richer one. It is about wealth… and power. ’Tis not about love. ’Tis a pretence. And I don’t want to pretend to some wealthy old bugger that considers himself superior to me.’ There! I had finally said what had been bothering me for months, ever since this marriage had been scheduled.

  Margot seemed to have no answer for my outburst, she had started crying now, thick tears dripping down her cheeks and her beautiful white dress; but as I turned to leave she said, ‘Sometimes I feel like you are not my brother… That you came from somewhere else… It feels like you’re an outsider… No wonder mum and dad won’t find you a woman.’

  Before I had time to answer, she had left the hall half-running, going towards the lavatories. Nevertheless, I would not have had a response to her statement, I w
ish I did, but she had summarised the way I felt, an outsider…

  *

  Out in the cold gardens of our estate, the night was cool, windless, cloudless and starry. Nothing was moving but myself. I had decided to take a stroll outdoors to clear my mind. I knew I should have to pay for my insolence. My mother would surely walk up to my chamber the coming morrow to lecture me about family values and duties, but I could not care less. I would not tolerate this anymore. I would inform her of that and demand from her to tell me everything. Why was I not permitted to leave the estate without supervision? Why was I not allowed to follow an appropriate profession since I had the skill and will? And why was I still unwed whilst both my sisters were engaged and were many years younger than me? However, I did not get the chance to speak my mind to my mother, because that night was the night everything changed for me…

  They came through the night, breaking the silence and the peace. Horsemen, perhaps two dozen of them. All dressed in black, some of them holding long spears, others carried swords, but bearing no banner. A few of them were carrying lit torches which illuminated their hidden hooded faces. They broke in our garden, not bothering to keep their voices down, galloped next to where I was standing and proceeded towards the house itself.

  ‘Dismount, we are going in,’ one of them cried.

  I did not have the slightest idea who these people were and why they were charging towards my undefended and utterly unaware household. All I knew was that it could not be for good. My options though, being unarmed, were limited; I could not even defend myself, let alone my family. After a few minutes which I stood petrified, hidden behind a bush, I mustered the courage and sneaked out, heading for the house.

  I had barely taken a few steps when I heard screams coming from the manor. Moments later a part of the ground floor, more particularly the dining chamber, was ablaze. Then more screams, a woman’s… The clash of steel against steel. I was frozen, not knowing what to do. My momentary courage had disappeared as fast as it had appeared. My fear had rooted me in the same spot for several agonising minutes… I stood there transfixed, watching the flames consuming my house.