Beatrix of Clare

by John Reed Scott

  XXI

  BUCKINGHAM'S REVENGE

  Three weeks from that day Richard Plantagenet, with his army, lay atSalisbury; the rebellion of Buckingham wholly quelled and the leadersfugitives with a price upon their heads.

  The conspirators had perfected well their plans and at the same hourthrew off the mask. On the morning of the eighteenth, Sir Thomas St.Leger--the King's own brother-in-law--the Marquis of Dorset, and thetwo Courtneys, proclaimed Henry Tudor in Exeter; Sir John Cheney raisedthe standard of revolt in Wiltshire; Sir William Norris and Sir WilliamStoner in Berkshire, and Sir John Browne, of Bletchworth, and Sir JohnFogge in Kent. Buckingham with all his force marched from Brecknockand set out, by way of Weobley and through the forest of Dean, toGloucester, there to cross the Severn. That it was his purpose tothrow himself in Richard's path, and risk a battle without waiting fora juncture with his confederates, is altogether likely. Stafford wasever rash and foolish; and never more so, indeed, than in this presententerprise.

  But whatever his intention may have been, it was thwarted by thevisitation of a power more potent than all the hosts of the King.Nature, herself, frowned upon him and his schemes and swept them all toruin in the rush of angry waters. The rain that began the day SirAymer De Lacy made his forced ride from Sheffield to Lincoln hadcontinued with but indifferent diminution for the whole of thefollowing week. As a result, the greatest flood the West of Englandever knew poured down through the Severn and its tributaries,destroying fords and bridges, overwhelming hamlets and villages, anddrowning scores upon scores of the inhabitants. In the face of thishostile manifestation of Providence, which washed out ardor and breddisaffection and something of superstitious terror, as it held themfast behind the impassable river, Buckingham's followers began towaver; then to drop away; and finally, when it became known that hisvery castle of Brecknock had been seized by Sir Thomas Vaughan, andthat almost before he was out of sight of its towers, they forsook himforthwith, as rats a sinking ship.

  All these matters came to the King by messengers from time to time; forhe had paid no heed to Buckingham, but had hurried Southward, gatheringhis forces as he went. His strategy was to throw himself betweenStafford and his confederates; cut the latter up in detail; and thenhurl himself upon the Earl of Richmond at the quickest possible moment.But as the royal army advanced into the disaffected districts, therevolt faded away like fog before the sun; and without striking a blowor laying lance in rest, it marched into Salisbury. And thus it wasthat when the Tudor arrived off Plymouth, he found no greeting but anadverse wind and a hostile populace. So he wore ship and turned backto Brittany, making no effort to aid those who had proclaimed him atrisk of life and fortune. But such was ever Henry's way.

  In these days of strain and striving Sir Aymer de Lacy had few hours ofleisure. He who was of the Third Richard's household must needs keeppace with a master in whose slender body was concentrated the energy ofmany men, and who in times of war never rested nor grew tired.

  The Darby episode had been whispered through the Court; and speculationwas rife as to the truth of the accusation. Nor was it set at restwhen he overtook the array without the flat-nosed Simon Gorges amonghis retainers. The King, however, seemed to treat him as though thematter were ended; and the courtiers, noting it, were quick to trim tothe royal wind.

  Yet on the very night of Darby's arrival, had Richard held council withDe Lacy, and secret instruction had gone forth to keep him underconstant surveillance and on no account whatever to permit him toseparate from the army.

  "It is suspicious, this course of his," the King said; "but for thepresent, it will profit nothing to tax him with it. Let him thinkhimself trusted; and perchance the doings of the next few weeks maydisclose something that will clear our path of doubt and show thetruth. If not, then shall this Gorges be brought before Sir John deBury and in our presence, though we ride to Pontefract for the purpose.Meanwhile, do you avoid his lordship, and permit no brawling betweenhis retainers and your own. Ratcliffe shall caution him, also, andmost peremptorily in this particular. Later, if he be acquittanced ofthe crime, you may settle the quarrel as you see fit."

  And while there had been sore provocations on both sides, for each wentas near the line of open rupture as he dared, yet when Salisbury wasreached, the command had not been disregarded; though it was veryevident to the Household, and perchance to Richard, too--for he missedlittle that went on about him--that at the first skirmish with therebels, a certain private feud would be worked out to a conclusionwherein but one of the participants would be left to couch lance forthe King.

  On this Sunday morning, De Lacy was crossing the courtyard of the BlueBoar Inn when he was attracted by a shouting and evident excitementtoward the North gate of the town, and which grew rapidly nearer. Thenup the street, at a quick trot, came a clump of spears followed by amass of soldiers, camp followers and citizens on a run. All werebrought up sharply by the guards, stationed a hundred yards or sobeyond the royal lodgings; but after a short parley, the horsemen werepermitted to pass. The device on the banneret was new to Aymer, and,knowing it belonged to none of those now with the army, and curious asto what could have attracted the rabble, he waited.

  Before the inn, from which floated the royal standard, they drew up,and the leader, an elderly Knight of heavy countenance and rotund framewho carried his visor up, dismounted, and, saluting Sir Aymer de Lacy,whose handsome dress evidenced his condition and rank, demanded instantaudience with the King.

  "His Majesty has but lately returned from Mass," said De Lacy; "but ifyour business be of immediate importance, I will announce you."

  The other laughed swaggeringly.

  "I am Sir Thomas Mitten, Sheriff of Shropshire," he said; "and methinksmy business is of most immediate importance, good sir, seeing that Ibring with me the traitor, Henry Stafford."

  "St. Denis! Buckingham a prisoner!" De Lacy exclaimed.

  "Yonder--among my men. Think you not I shall be welcome?"

  For answer, De Lacy turned on his heel, and, leaving the Sheriff tofind his way to the King the best he could, strode over to thehorsemen. Motioning them peremptorily aside, he extended his hand tothe tall, ruddy-haired man in the stained and torn velvet.

  "Believe me, Stafford," he said, "it is a sad day to me that sees youhere. I hoped you had escaped."

  A spasm of anger swept over the Duke's face; then he smiled and seizingDe Lacy's fingers gripped them hard.

  "But for treachery and ingratitude baser than Hell's deepest damned youwould not see me here," he said. "And it is a brave and noble heartthat beneath the Plantagenet's very eye dares show open friendship forthe traitor Buckingham. God knows it is sweet after my life lately;yet be advised, De Lacy, it is dangerous to your standing and, mayhap,your liberty as well; best pass me by on the other side."

  Aymer made a gesture of dissent. "The King trusts me," he said. "Hewill not doubt my faith."

  Stafford laughed sarcastically. "Pardieu! has the Devil turned saintthat Gloucester has come to trust a mortal man! At least, I shall soonsee if it has changed his fierce spirit, for here is Ratcliffe to leadme to the Presence. . . Does our Cousin of England desire our company,Sir Richard? If so, we are quite ready to embrace him."

  But Ratcliffe was not one to do his present duty with levity on histongue, and he bowed with stiff formality.

  "Will you come with me, my lord?" he said.

  "_Au revoir_, De Lacy," smiled the Duke. "Now, to brave the Boar inhis lair and see him show his tusks."

  And with an air of easy indifference, this man, for whom the world hadheld such vast possibilities if he had but known how to attain them,went to meet his doom. For that his life was forfeited Stafford wellknew; he had been taken in arms against the King and death would be hisportion.

  Yet the judgment came with a stern swiftness that startled the entireCourt; and within the very hour that Shropshire's Sheriff enteredSalisbury, was the scaffold for the execution being put in place in the
courtyard of the inn.

  From the window of the room in which he was confined, Buckingham idlywatched the work; and as he stood there, the King and the Duke ofNorfolk came forth with a few attendants and rode gayly away.

  A scowl of darkest hatred distorted his face, and he shook his fist atRichard--then laughed; and the laugh grew into a sneer, that after thefeatures were composed again still lingered about the mouth.

  "It was well for the Plantagenet he did not grant the interview," hemuttered; "else------" From within his doublet, he took a long silvercomb, such as men used to dress their flowing hair and of which,naturally, he had not been deprived, and touching a secret spring, drewfrom the heavy rim a slender dagger.

  "It is a pretty bit of Italian craft and methinks would have cut sureand deep," he mused. He felt the blade and tested its temper bybending it nigh double . . . "Why should I not cheat yonder scaffoldand scorn the tyrant to the end?" . . . then with calm determinationreturned it to its sheath. "It would give them cause to dub me coward,and to say I would have weakened at the final moment. A Stafford darenot risk it."

  He turned again to the window--and started forward with surprise."Darby! By all the devils in Hell! Here, with the King. . . Thefalse-hearted scoundrel! With him, at least, I can square off."

  He struck the door sharply; it opened and Raynor Royk stepped withinand saluted.

  "Will you deliver a message for me?" Buckingham asked, offering him arose-noble.

  The old soldier drew back.

  "I am not for sale, Sir Duke," he said. "What is the message?"

  "For Sir Aymer de Lacy, my good fellow. Tell him I pray a moment'sconversation on a matter of grave importance."

  Without a word Royk faced about and went pounding down the passage.

  Presently a light, quick step came springing up the stairway, and DeLacy entered and closed the door behind him.

  "You sent for me?" he said.

  "Aye, Sir Aymer, and I thank you for the coming. Tell me, when didLord Darby join the King?"

  "About a week since; though he left us at Lincoln on the seventeenth togather his retainers."

  "Bah! I might have known it!" the Duke exclaimed. "It was he, then,that betrayed our plans to Richard. God in Heaven, that I might havehim by the throat!" and he clinched his hands in fury.

  "Was Darby forewarned of your revolt?" De Lacy asked.

  "Forewarned! Forewarned! The dog helped me arrange and mature it. Heswore he hated Richard."

  "Doubtless he did--and does so still, it was not he who betrayed you."

  Stafford stared incredulously.

  "Then how, in Satan's name, comes he here now?" he demanded.

  "I can answer that better after I know his part with you--may I sendfor Ratcliffe?"

  "As you wish," was the reply.

  That the Master of Horse was surprised at the summons was very evident;and he turned to De Lacy questioningly.

  "The Duke has certain information touching Lord Darby which must beconfided to some one else than me," Sir Aymer explained.

  Ratcliffe nodded. "Since your quarrel with Lord Darby such a coursewere very wise."

  "I know nothing of Darby's quarrel with Sir Aymer de Lacy," saidStafford, "but I have seen him here and have learned that he joinedRichard at Lincoln, the day prior to that set for the revolt, so Idenounce him as a double traitor--traitor to the King, forsworn to me.It was he--he and that hawk-faced priest Morton--who, ere we leftWindsor and on all the march to Gloucester, urged and persuaded me toturn against the King. He visited me at Brecknock to arrange details;was there only four days before he deserted me at Lincoln. It was hewho was to lead the rising in West Yorkshire. The only reward he askedwas my promise for the new King that he be permitted to marry theCountess of Clare."

  "The Countess of Clare!" De Lacy exclaimed.

  "Yes--she of the ruddy locks and handsome face and figure. He saidthey loved each other, but that Richard had laughed at their affectionand their prayers and had bade her prepare to marry another.Consequently, to avoid all danger of her being forced into the nuptialsbefore the revolt, they had arranged that she be abducted by some ofhis men, and then lie concealed in his castle until after Richard weredeposed. And it seems they did effect their plan--at least, so he toldme the last time he came to Brecknock. But methinks he is no betteroff now, so far as the Countess is concerned."

  "Rather the worse off, I fancy," said Ratcliffe. "Two months since,with the King's approbation, the Countess of Clare became the affiancedbride of Sir Aymer de Lacy; and Lord Darby's tale, as to her love forhimself and Richard's treatment of them, is pure falsehood."

  The Duke looked at him in sharp surprise; then shrugged his shoulders.

  "Pasque Dieu! I have been an easy dupe," he said. "A child inintrigue should have picked the flaw though he were half asleep. Yetit was a pretty enough story--a loving lady, a frowning King, a falseabduction. . . And all a lie."

  "All but the abduction--that is true enough," said Ratcliffe.

  Buckingham frowned slightly. "I do not follow you, my lord. Methoughtyou said the Countess was betrothed to Sir Aymer."

  "And so she is--yet she has been abducted, none the less, these fourweeks back, and no trace of her been found. Now, however, you havefurnished the clue."

  "Nay, simply confirmed the one we had," exclaimed Sir Aymer de Lacy,who from sheer fury had been too choked to speak; "and I have done withwaiting--already two weeks have been wasted. If the King want me lethim send to Roxford Castle."--His hand was on the door when Ratcliffeseized his arm.

  "Compose yourself, De Lacy," he said kindly yet sternly. "Have youlearned Richard so little as to think that even we of the Ring daredisobey him?"

  "Nor forget, Sir Aymer," added the Duke quickly, "it will be my wordagainst Lord Darby's; and I am a condemned traitor. . . Yet, stay amoment, there is one other knows it. The Abbot of Kirkstall Abbey wasin Darby's secret and engaged to aid his scheme."

  De Lacy, who was handling his drawn dagger, suddenly sent it deep intothe table beside him.

  "We seem to have been a pair of fools, Stafford!" he exclaimed. "Thevery morning after the Countess disappeared I found those two villainstogether at the Abbey yet suspected them not at all." He drew out thedagger, then plunged it in again. "Well, so be it. I shall wait untilthe King has heard your story. Then I go North--with his permission,if may be; without it if I must."

  "It will be a triple pleasure," said the Duke, "to revenge myself onDarby and do some service to the Countess and to you."

  "With your permission, my lord," Ratcliffe observed, "Kendale will takedown your statement and you may sign it. . . His Majesty will notreturn till vespers."

  The Duke laughed shortly. "Ere which time I shall be sped, you mean.Well, summon Kendale, and that promptly, for methinks yon scaffold isabout ready for its office."

  Word for word the King's secretary reduced the narrative.

  "Read it," the Duke commanded when it was done. . . "Is thatsufficiently definite and accurate? . . . Then let me sign it."

  With a labored flourish he attached his name and sealed it with hisring. Ratcliffe and Kendale duly attested it; and sealing it againover the outside edge he handed it to De Lacy:

  "When Darby stands against you," he said, "strike one blow for the deadBuckingham. . . Nay, man, take it not so to heart; it is a hazard weall must play some time. And who knows, forsooth, but that in the castI win a fairer land than this I leave behind?"

  "Aye, perchance it is we who lose," said Ratcliffe thoughtfully.

  "God grant it be so," De Lacy added.

  "Amen!" the Duke rejoined. "For then some day you, too, shall win."

  From below came the measured tramp of men; and though the window wasclosed, the murmurings and mutterings of the crowd grow noticeablylouder. The pounding of hammers had ceased and in its place were thegruff commands as the soldiers forced the rabble back from thescaffold; followed presently by the ring of grounded
halberds.

  The Duke of Buckingham walked to the window and opening the casementlooked for a moment into the courtyard. Then as the tread of the guardsounded on the stairs, he turned away and, shaking the dust from hiscloak, flung it about his shoulders.

  "Lead on, my man, I am ready," he said indifferently, as Raynor Royk,death warrant in hand, stepped within. "No need to read it; I know itsmessage. . . Will you bear me company, good sirs?" he asked rather asone who invites than requests. "I promise I shall not detain you long."

  For answer, both Ratcliffe and De Lacy sprang forward and offered himtheir arms. The Duke shook his head.

  "You are most fair and courteous, but I must walk alone--to besupported would give ground for evil tongues to slur upon my courage.Your simple presence will be sustenance enough."

  As the procession of death came out into the courtyard, the crowd thatswayed and surged behind the men-at-arms, went quiet . . . a murmurgathered, that swelled louder and still louder, until the proud figureof Buckingham stepped upon the scaffold--then it ceased abruptly, and aheavy stillness came. And beside the block, in black shirt and hoseand leaning on the long shaft of the huge axe, stood the maskedheadsman, motionless and grim.

  For a space Stafford glanced carelessly over the crowd; then lifted hiseyes toward the blue above him, as though fain to see the bournewhither he was bound. And standing so, suddenly a smile of rarestbeauty broke upon his face, as if, in truth, a flash of immortal visionhad been vouchsafed of the Land beyond the sky.

  Even the stern, prosaic Ratcliffe saw it thus; and in awed toneswhispered to De Lacy, "He has had that sight of Heaven which is saidcomes sometimes to those about to die."

  And the Duke, his vision passed, yet with the air of one who hasreceived the promise of content, turned to the Bishop of Bath anddropping on one knee bared his head and bent it for the extremeabsolution. At the end, he took Ratcliffe and De Lacy by the hand.

  "You have been friends at a trying time," he said, "and I thank youfrom the heart." . . . He drew a chain of gold from within hisdoublet: "Here, Sir Aymer de Lacy, is my George; do you return it tothe King--it may suggest to him that you should take my place."

  "You are very thoughtful, my lord," De Lacy answered brokenly.

  "And I am enjoined by the King," said Ratcliffe, "to assure you thatyour domains shall not be forfeited or your Line attainted."

  The Duke looked at the Master of Horse steadily for a moment.

  "Verily, Richard is a mystery," he said. "Is he then greedy of naughtsave power, that he passes thus my lands and castles?"

  "Methinks there are many who misjudge him," Ratcliffe answered.

  "Perchance! Yet my judgment is of small import now. Nathless, I thankhim for his clemency and consideration toward my wife and son. Andtouching my body, I trust it may be decently interred."

  "It will be laid beside your ancestors; and with every ceremony yourfamily may desire."

  "Truly, this death is not so hard," Stafford said, with a bit of alaugh. "You have just robbed it of its only terrors. Farewell, myfriends, farewell!"--And again he took their hands.

  Turning to the headsman, who had stood motionless the while, he ran hiseyes over the stalwart figure.

  "Have you been long at the trade, fellow?" he asked.

  "These two and twenty years," came from behind the mask, though the manmoved not at all.

  "Then you should have learned to strike straight."

  "Never but once did I miss my aim," was the grim reply.

  "Well, make not, I pray you, a second miss with me."

  Calmly as though preparing for his couch and a night's repose, heunlaced his doublet and took it off; and laying back his placard,nodded to the executioner.

  The sombre figure came suddenly to life, and drawing from his girdle apair of heavy shears he swiftly cropped the Duke's long hair where ithung below the neck--then stepped back and waited.

  "Are you ready?" Buckingham asked.

  The man nodded and resumed his axe.

  With a smile on his lips and with all the proud dignity of his greatHouse, Stafford walked to the block and laid his head upon it.

  "Strike!" he said sharply.

  The executioner swung the axe aloft and brought it slowly down, stayingit just ere the edge touched the flesh. There, for an instant, he heldit, measuring his distance, while the sunlight flashed along itspolished face. Suddenly it rose again, and sweeping in a wide circleof shimmering steel fell with the speed of a thunder-bolt.

  And at that very instant, from the camp beyond the town, came the musicof the trumpets sounding the fanfare of the King.