Priests always warn us for the Day of Judgement, the day when our Lord and saviour Jesus Christ is going to return to his Earthly Kingdom and sort out the good souls from the evil ones. No one knows when that day is to be, but what I did know was that King Henry’s Day was approaching and it would be me who would make him pay for his abominable sins…
Southern England was heavily clouded that day with occasional showers of rain which reflected my mood. London would suit me even better, for it was infamous for its unsettled weather conditions, in much contrast with Rome.
‘You look grave, my child,’ a voice said behind me. ‘What are you thinking about?’
I was on the side deck of our ship admiring England’s shores when Lorenzo Campeggio interrupted my thoughts. He was another white-haired cardinal, although this one I had been told had almost the same power as the pope himself; his influence stretching beyond the papal grounds.
As time passed and things settled in the City of Rome, our plot was thickening, and we were bidding our time. By the end of the year, the pope had been set free by Philibert, although he was still under the influence of the empire. He sought solace in Orvieto, a historic city north of Rome. There Pope Clement had at last received correspondence from King Henry, through the hands of William Knight, an important figure at the King’s Court, Secretary of State and Bishop of Bath and Wells. Bloody Bishops! How I loathed them all... Corrupted men, always seeking more wealth and power at the expense of others.
The Bishop was naturally unsuccessful, and the furious king made another attempt, through his most trusted adviser, Cardinal Wolsey, who had requested the arranging of an ecclesiastical court in England with the pope’s representative to settle the Great Matter once and for all. Therefore, Lorenzo Campeggio, a man whom Henry thought would vouch for him and his case was coming with me to London to do nothing more than delay the process of the annulment for as long as it would take to investigate the court and find a way to cleanse His Majesty’s damned soul. In other words, to dispose of his most trusted and corrupted adviser and also the woman who had instigated this mess: Cardinal Thomas Wolsey and Mistress Anne Boleyn.
‘Dark things, Your Eminence,’ I answered.
‘You can always find light in this dark world, Edward,’ Cardinal Campeggio said. ‘You need only look for God’s guidance.’
‘I’m having difficulties lately, Your Eminence,’ I said frowning. ‘Don’t know where to look.’
‘We will save His Majesty, my son,’ said the cardinal. ‘Along with his kingdom.’ I gazed at him sceptically and he added: ‘That is our sole purpose, after all, is it not? To save him from those who attempt to drive him away from God’s path.’
I did not answer. I wondered how much the pope had confided in him.
‘Pope Clement has given me further instructions in accordance to our matter,’ Campeggio said, changing somewhat the subject.
‘Is that so?’
‘Indeed,’ he said stroking his long, grey beard solemnly. ‘We have not discussed the nature of your disguise.’
‘Your Eminence?’
‘Surely you cannot expect to turn up in London and boast your real name publicly. No one must have any knowledge of your true identity, or our plan will fail; possibly along with our heads,’ the cardinal explained.
‘So, you suggest I introduce myself differently. How?’
‘You will be my son, Eduardo Campeggio,’ he answered. ‘I deem it to be the safest disguise. By carrying my name, you will be able to attend the court with me and be guaranteed a great deal of protection and respect amongst the nobles.’
I nodded in acceptance. It was a sound plan, and it would give me easy access to the king’s own palace.
‘Furthermore,’ the cardinal continued in a more serious tone now, ‘the pope has asked me to attempt a reconciliation between King Henry and Queen Catherine.’
‘In other words, to persuade the king to reconsider his request for annulment?’ I rephrased accurately. The cardinal nodded. ‘Your Eminence, surely you must understand that King Henry is not to be underestimated and is infamous for his stubbornness.’
‘It is my belief, that all God’s children can be persuaded when God himself stares down at them,’ the cardinal countered.
‘God himself?’ I asked puzzled, as I brushed my wind-blown hair away from my eyes to look at the cardinal better.
‘The pope and his cardinals are the messengers of God, Edward. Therefore, they carry His judgement,’ Campeggio explained.
‘King Henry cannot be intimidated,’ I insisted. Why could he not understand? It was known that Henry would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. He would move mountains to get his heart’s desire or his cock’s desire for that matter.
‘In any case, I have clear instructions from His Holiness to investigate and learn the secrets of King Henry’s Court. Then try to persuade him to rid his mind of this folly and return to his lawful wife.’
‘And if you should fail?’ I said stubbornly. Which you will!
‘Then the pope has a different plan. I am to suggest to Queen Catherine to abdicate her marriage and title and retire to a religious convent, thus leaving King Henry free to marry whoever he pleases.’
‘No!’ I exclaimed. ‘This is outrageous. You cannot give him what he wants. We had an agreement with your pope, our terms were quite different,’ I yelled at him infuriated.
Cardinal Campeggio stood up straight to his full height, with difficulty though, as he was always bent and supporting his weight on a wooden cane. ‘My pope? What is this boy? Is it not your pope too?’ His tone of voice was changed entirely now and looked at me with stern eyes.
Taking deep breaths to calm my nerves I said, ‘Forgive me, Your Eminence. I was just being-’
‘Foolish!’ he completed my sentence. ‘Don’t you think for a moment that you are set above His Holiness or me, boy. For you are nothing but a necessity in this operation, but that may change in the near future,’ he said authoritatively and walked away, heading back to his cabin.
My hand which I had unconsciously placed upon the hilt of my sword felt numb. Oh, what I would give to take his head here and now. I thought and shook the ratlines next me to me with both hands to release some of my anger.
*
Below decks, everyone was preparing for our arrival at the port of London; or almost everyone. ‘Prince Edward!’ It was Eleanor. ‘May I have a word with you, Your Grace?’
‘As you please. But pray ye, don’t call me that.’
She bowed politely, then grabbed my hand and guided me to one of the small bedchambers at the far end of the ship’s belly. The ship was definitely something that would befit a king or a pope. It was a magnificent frigate with three great masts and a crew of thirty strong men. As it appeared the pope still had many assets at his disposal.
‘I should like to confess something to you, Edward,’ Eleanor started in a low voice once we were alone, whilst I stared at her exposed breasts. ‘The night you found us and… saved us… Well, you weren’t exactly saving us from what you thought…’
I diverted my glare to her beautiful green eyes, trying to comprehend what she was referring to. ‘What-’
‘We weren’t being raped.’
‘Excuse me?’ I said stunned. ‘You were both naked on your hands and knees having -I don’t even know how many men- behind you… Taking turns with you. You were all bruised and bloody…’
She nodded solemnly. ‘We were merely entertaining those soldiers to save our lives. Truth be told they would have raped us in any case, but we did it willingly. The art of love-making is our profession… And as for the bleeding and bruises,’ she added once she saw I was ready to interrupt her. ‘Those must have been when we escaped from the brothel, which was burned to the ground.’
‘So instead of running away to safety, you walked willingly into the arms of half a dozen soldiers?’ I enquired suspiciously.
‘Running to safety? Edward, listen to yourself. You
were there, you witnessed with your own eyes what it was like… Two women alone in a city that’s being sacked don’t have great chances of survival.’
‘And why did it take you a whole year to confess this to me? And why now?’
‘Well, we haven’t exactly been seeing each other very often, Edward. You were always busy practising your swordplay or being in councils of war with Philibert or… drinking and whoring.’ She looked on the verge of tears.
‘Why now?’ I asked again unsympathetically.
‘Because my conscience is weighing me down and I can’t stand it anymore.’ Thick tears were dripping down her rosy cheeks now. ‘You deserve more, you had all the goodwill in your heart to save us and nurture us, and we-’
‘You tricked us. Twice already,’ I said starting to get angry again, more with myself that with her. If we had not wasted our times by saving them, playing the heroes… It had been Aeron who had started it. He and his unprecedented resentment against the abuse of women. Although, it was thanks to them that we were heading now back to England with the pope’s own legate and his support on our side. ‘That doesn’t explain, though, why you tried to leave us in the shack, My Lady.’
‘Don’t call me that,’ she dismissed the title whilst wiping off her tears. I smiled feebly, in many ways we were alike. ‘I’ve already told you why we did it. You wouldn’t have trusted us if we had told you of our plan that night.’
I paused the conversation to think. I had no reason to trust her now either, although, she had not given me any other reason not to in the past year. ‘Agnese seems to dislike this cause,’ I said at the end.
She laughed that mesmerising laughter of hers. ‘’Tis that obvious, is it?
‘Quite!’ I replied with a straight face.
‘She never wanted to leave Rome, but we have no future there now. In London, though we can make up our lives again, start over,’ she said dreamily.
‘In a local brothel?’ I asked sarcastically, unable to hold myself.
She looked at me aggressively. ‘This is not my only virtue, Edward… I’m an educated woman. Hardship led me to prostitution.’
‘I meant no offence, My Lady,’ I said embarrassed.
She slapped me gently on the cheek. ‘Do not call me lady. I am a whore. And what are you? A bastard,’ she said to me defiantly.
My temper was rising, and I felt a burning in my stomach. ‘We’re done here,’ I said eventually and made to leave the room, but she grabbed my arm again, this time with more force, then kissed me on the mouth. Her lips were warm and moist, and they had a sweet taste, not unlike the one I had imagined in my daydreams. I ran my hands down her waist and made to unfasten her dress, but she fought against it and broke off my grasp.
‘That’s what you want, is it not? That’s what all men desire from a woman, for we are not worthy of anything else.’
‘Who are you?’ I asked her, looking deep into her eyes.
‘I am a whore!’ she said and walked out of the room leaving me bewildered.
*
We reached the port of London that very afternoon. When we docked and got off the ship, it looked like an ordinary English town, perhaps a bit more populated than the usual. However, that had merely been the port.
Two royal carriages with two proud horses apiece were waiting to transport us with every comfort to Whitehall Palace where the king and his court currently resided. The Tudor, red and white Rose, the symbol of King Henry’s royal dynasty was fashioned on the side of the carriage’s black doors; as it was also on the black uniforms of the two men who drove them. These little mobile houses fascinated me, as it was the first time I had been in one of them, although the turbulence was quite discomforting.
‘My internals is threatening to appear before you,’ said Aeron with whom I was sharing the carriage and apparently my discomfort.
‘You need only forget it, my child,’ said Cardinal Campeggio, who was certainly experienced in this means of transportation. ‘Think of something different.’
‘Easy to say,’ Aeron whispered low enough for only me to hear.
I smiled at him and turned my attention out of the window. The city was coming closer, and I was beginning to realise that I had underestimated its size. The great River Thames was stretching on our left-hand side, vast in width and length, busy with trading ships. Whilst the density of the buildings around us grew thicker, the road ahead of us seemed endless.
‘How many citizens does London have, Your Eminence?’ I asked the question that was circling my mind.
‘I am told that one hundred thousand people reside in this city,’ he answered without taking his eyes off the road.
I was in awe. I had never been to any town or city that had such a vast population. Even York which was the greatest city in the North of England had around ten thousand. It made me feel uneasy about the unimaginable crowds. It was here that King Henry and his loyal advisers ruled the kingdom, everything was starting from here and then spreading in the rest of the land like a disease.
The holdfasts were thickening even more now, and as I stack my head out of the carriage window, I saw a grey cloud ahead of me that made me withdraw in an instant. It was not the weather, it was the city and the numerous houses, taverns, alehouses, inns and brothels, which most of them had their own fireplaces and were burning wood non-stop all day long, that was producing this thick grey smoke that covered the sky. But that was the least of it as I discovered when we finally reached the palace and got off our carriages.
‘God, the smell!’ It was Aeron who had voiced my thoughts ahead of me again.
‘Welcome to London, lads,’ said Belfrigh, who had climbed off the second carriage along with Eleanor and Agnese. ‘Where the shit is running down your feet and knives are thrown at your back.’ He looked around in disgust, his grey hair and beard messy and unkempt. ‘I did not believe I would ever come to this accursed city again,’ he concluded frowning.
Campeggio ignored him. ‘Edward, we are to go and see Cardinal Wolsey immediately before we are admitted to our chambers. We ought to inform him of our arrival.’
I looked back as though expecting that he was talking to somebody else rather than me. ‘I’m to go with you, Your Eminence?’ I asked in disbelief.
‘Certainly,’ he confirmed. ‘I told you before, you are part of this operation.’
That was not exactly what he had said to me on the ship, but I let his rephrased wording pass as if unnoticed. ‘Very well!’ I said instead.
‘What about us?’ Belfrigh asked lacking manners as always.
‘You, my child, along with the rest of you lot,’ Campeggio pointed with his right forefinger at Aeron, Eleanor and Agnese, ‘are free to pursue whatever accommodation you see fit in the city. This is the king’s own palace, you don’t expect him to receive commoners into his court, do you?’
Belfrigh raised his eyebrows so high that they disappeared behind his overgrown hair. ‘What about the bastard?’ he asked looking at me.
‘Eduardo Campeggio is my son, so naturally, he will accompany me into the King’s Court,’ he said with a matter-of-fact kind of tone. ‘And I would appreciate it if you did not call him anything other than Eduardo or Edward, lest we give ourselves away.’
Belfrigh laughed the hardest I had ever heard him laugh. ‘We will see you later then, Your Graces,’ he said sarcastically and bowed before heading in the opposite direction, followed by the rest of the party.
‘You would be wise,’ Cardinal Campeggio said as a royal escort arrived to welcome us and guide us into the palace, ‘to avoid the company of certain individuals whilst we are here, my son.’
‘You mean Belfrigh and Aeron, Your Eminence?’ I asked, but I already knew the answer. Belfrigh was reckless and rude and his purpose in London still unknown, for I could not believe that he had come to assist me in my pursuit of revenge. As for Aeron, I put a great deal of trust in him, but he was indeed a commoner and could not help me at this point.
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��The Holy Father only permitted your paradoxical friends to follow you in a gesture of good will,’ the cardinal said, but I was half-listening now. We entered through a massive iron portcullis, which was embraced by a high stone arch. ‘Should your friends betray your identity to the king or any other in the royal court, you would find yourself with a head shorter,’ he continued as we were passing through a courtyard with a lake in its midst.
This time I could not ignore his comment. ‘They shan’t betray me, Your Eminence. I am certain of this.’
He looked at me with his black eyes disapprovingly.
Once inside the palace we were guided to the rear quarters were the royal offices stood. There it dawned on me that if we had not been escorted through it, we would have surely lost our way in the maze of numerous corridors, shut doors and courtyards that seemed to appear out of nowhere. At last, after what felt to be half an hour of walking we appeared to have reached our destination. One of the guards knocked on the door, and for a few seconds, the only sound breaking the silence was the heavy breathing of the cardinal next to me.
When the door eventually opened, we were admitted by a young man dressed in black, with the Tudor Rose on his chest. ‘Welcome, my lords! His Eminence, Cardinal Wolsey is waiting for you within.’
The interior of that chamber was more than a small house rather than an office, with comfortable seats and tables here and there, whilst the walls were decorated with portraits of people I did not recognise. The only man that mattered, however, was the one sitting behind a desk at the far end of the room, who stood up the moment he saw us approaching.
‘Lorenzo, my friend,’ said Cardinal Thomas Wolsey. ‘Welcome to London!’ The two men embraced whilst I stayed discreetly on the background. ‘Do sit down, I’m aware of your suffering in your bones,’ he added and then looked towards our escorts. ‘You may leave us; His Eminence and I have a lot to discuss.’ The guards left but I stayed rooted on my spot without him noticing. ‘You’ve had a comfortable journey, I trust?’
The Illegitimate Tudor Page 12