The Lost King

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by Alison Prince


  He read the letter, and his expression changed. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then made the sign of the cross. All of us did likewise, though we did not know what he was going to tell us.

  His voice was quiet and dry.

  ‘The King is dead.’

  In the gasps and moans that followed, he looked at the letter again, as if hardly believing it. Then he turned to me and said, ‘Tell Edward to come to my room at once. Do not mention the reason.’

  Edward was alone with Dr Alcock, as Richard is in London with his mother. He took one look at my face and got to his feet.

  ‘Lisa, what is it?’

  ‘Your uncle asks you to go to him.’

  ‘Now? At once?’

  ‘Yes.’

  We walked up the stairs in silence, though there was so much I wanted to say. Edward stopped and turned to me, frowning.

  ‘Something has happened, hasn’t it?’

  I nodded. There was an ache in my throat and I longed to give him what comfort I could, but orders had to be obeyed.

  ‘Earl Rivers has to tell you,’ I said.

  I think he knew then. He said nothing, but for the first time since he was small, he took my hand. He is twelve now, and taller than I am. When we reached his uncle’s room, he tapped on the door.

  ‘Come in,’ Rivers said.

  ***

  Since then, we have been in turmoil. Messengers keep arriving from London. They dismount from sweating horses and run up the stairs with letters for Rivers.

  Uncle Richard was with King Edward when he died. He is the only one left of the royal brothers now, and Edward appointed him to be the official protector of his young nephews. I am glad of that.

  It seems sad that a great king who survived countless battles should die of what started as a common cold – though I must admit, Edward had grown fat and red-faced in the last year or two, and drank far too much. The servants often had to carry him to bed because he was too drunk to stand or walk.

  Young Edward is now Edward the Fifth, King of England. He is going to London for his coronation very soon, with an armed guard. I am to go as well, to take care of Edward’s possessions and make sure he has whatever he needs.

  My father rode here after he heard the news. He seemed worried. ‘Lisa, this visit to London may last a long time,’ he said. ‘Edward may never come back to Ludlow. What is to happen to you?’

  ‘I don’t know. But I have to go.’

  ‘Yes. I can see that. Look – keep this carefully.’ He gave me a name and address written on a piece of paper. ‘This is your Uncle Bryn, my younger brother. You were still a baby the one time he came to see us, so you won’t remember him. He is a cabinet-maker, makes fine furniture for the gentry. His wife’s name is Olwen. They live in Fleet Lane, near the river. I’ve sent them a letter. It should be there by now – the postal service Richard set up is a blessing. Promise me you’ll visit them, Lisa. I want to be sure you have somewhere to go if you need help.’

  The idea that I may need help makes me newly afraid. Ludlow Castle is a world of its own, but it has become my home. Maybe we will take some of that world to London. I wish Annie could come, but she has to stay here.

  ***

  Tom and I have come to the forest glade we think of as our own. We stand with our arms round each other. My face is buried in the warmth of his jacket.

  He says, ‘I wish you weren’t going to London.’

  ‘So do I.’

  And it is true. I love Tom, though I tried hard not to. I want so much to stay with him – but I cannot desert the boys. Their Uncle Richard’s motto is ‘Loyauté Me Lie’, which Dr Alcock said means ‘Loyalty Binds Me’. I, too, feel bound.

  ‘Things are so uncertain. And the boys are still young. It would be an unkind time to leave them.’

  ‘Lisa, their world is not our world,’ Tom says. ‘Their wars and deaths and riches are nothing to do with us. I want you to marry me. Let the boys go. Please. We can have children of our own.’

  I feel torn in half.

  ‘I love you, Tom, I really do. I want to marry you. But can we wait just a little longer?’

  ‘Anyone who waits for things to be safe and certain is a fool,’ he says. ‘And I hope I am not a fool.’ He sighs. ‘But yes, I will wait for you.’

  ‘Oh, Tom! Thank you, thank you. It won’t be long, I promise. I’ll come back as soon as I can.’

  We kiss again. I wish we could stay here longer, but the sun is low in the sky behind the trees.

  Packing up

  Annie sits down on the box we have just tied with rope, hands in her lap.

  ‘The wolves are out, Lisa,’ she says.

  ‘Wolves?’

  ‘Enemies.’

  ‘But – things are all right now, aren’t they? The Lancaster side is beaten. It doesn’t have an heir to the throne.’

  ‘Oh, yes, it does,’ Annie says grimly. ‘They’ve found themselves a new one. Henry Tudor. He’s lived in France most of his life. Claims to be descended from the ancient Welsh king, Cadwalladr, which means nothing at all. Any Welsh person could say the same.’

  ‘Isn’t he royal, then?’

  ‘Only through a bastard line. His grand-da was a page in the court of Henry the Fifth. He seduced the king’s widow, who bore him a son called Edmund Tudor. That Edmund was this Henry Tudor’s father.’

  ‘So why do they think he should be king?’

  ‘You may well ask. The thing is, Henry Tudor’s mother is now married to Lord Stanley, and he’s as two-faced as Warwick was. Everyone says he’s going to help Henry Tudor to invade England and take the throne by force.’

  I’m horrified.

  ‘But he can’t! Young Edward is the king!’

  Annie frowns down at her hands, and makes no answer. I’m suddenly afraid.

  ‘Annie, what is it?’

  She sighs.

  ’I’ve never told you this, Lisa. There’s an old secret – but it won’t stay secret much longer, the way things are going. The King’s marriage to Elizabeth Woodville wasn’t his first one.’

  That’s an old tale, so I’m relieved.

  ‘Yes, he was engaged to someone else, they say. But isn’t it just gossip?’

  ‘No. It’s true. And it wasn’t just an engagement. Edward married Lady Eleanor Butler, months before Elizabeth grabbed him.’

  ‘Actually married her?’

  ‘Yes. And the wolves are hunting around to prove it. They want it known that the King’s marriage to Elizabeth broke the law. I know this is hard, Lisa, but – Edward’s children are not legal. Your lovely boys have no more claim to the throne than their illegitimate brothers and sisters that nobody knows about.’

  My hands are over my mouth in a long gasp of horror. ‘Annie! No!’

  ‘I’m sorry. I know what they mean to you.’

  ‘How long have you known?’

  ‘I’ve always known. Some things are best not talked about.’

  Coming from Annie, that would be laughable, were it not so frightening.

  ‘Does Uncle Richard know?’

  ‘Of course he does.’

  No wonder he looks wary.

  Annie goes on, ‘Richard is the youngest brother, so he never dreamed of being king. But Clarence, the middle one, was second to Edward, and he more than dreamed of it, he thought he had a right. He was furious about the marriage to Elizabeth, and even more furious about being forced to keep the secret, to protect the York family from scandal and downfall.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘Clarence had no guilty marriage hidden away, so he felt he should rule,’ Annie goes on. ‘And of course Warwick was spreading this rumour that his brother, King Edward, was himself illegitimate. Nonsense, if you ask me – a typical bit of Warwick mischief. But it gave Clarence even more reason to want his older brother out of the way.’

  ‘That’s why he and Warwick kept conspiring!’

  ‘Yes. And that’s partly what the wars were about. If
Edward could be killed in battle, it would be nobody’s fault. Clarence would be crowned king and the York family name – and his mother’s reputation – wouldn’t be dragged in the mud. Without Edward, Elizabeth would lose her power to get favours for the Woodvilles, so they would cause no trouble. But Edward was such a good fighter, they simply couldn’t kill him.’

  ‘So Clarence went on keeping the secret.’

  ‘He had to. Elizabeth controlled everyone. Edward gave her whatever she demanded, because she could destroy him whenever she chose. All she had to do was act the innocent and say she’d just found out about a previous wife, and he’d be finished. And, of course, he was still completely infatuated with her, so he didn’t mind.’

  Trying to be fair, I say, ‘Perhaps she really didn’t know about the earlier marriage.’

  Annie snorts with contempt.

  ‘Of course she did! Elizabeth’s mother was Jacquetta of Luxembourg. She knew everyone and everything – people said she was a witch, they were quite scared of her. Jacquetta saw from the start that her daughter could blackmail the King if she could make him marry her. And she was right.’

  A thought comes to my grieving mind. ‘The morning when the boys and I heard the Queen shouting at Edward, she said “that old tale” shouldn’t worry him.’

  ‘What she meant was, keeping it secret didn’t worry Clarence,’ Annie says. ‘Not any more. Think of it, Lisa. He was imprisoned in the Tower and knew he’d be executed sooner or later. His wife was dead. Warwick, too.’

  ‘He had nothing to lose.’

  ‘Exactly. So why not tell everyone the secret? At least they’d know he’d had a justifiable claim to be King when Edward died. Elizabeth was desperately afraid he would talk. Edward was afraid as well, once she made him face it. Think how fast he acted, that morning when you heard her shouting at him. Clarence was tried, condemned and back in the Tower before he could say a word to anyone. Dead a few hours later.’

  I can see it all, and I’m frightened.

  ‘What will she do now?’

  ‘Elizabeth?’ Annie shrugs. ‘The Lord knows. With Edward gone, she’ll get no more support from the house of York. They hate her, and always have – with good reason. The talk is that she’s toadying up to the Lancasters, and I think that’s true. She’s offered them her eldest daughter as a wife for Henry Tudor.’

  ‘I know. But – surely she wants to see Edward on the throne? He’s her son.’

  But another awful truth dawns and I smack a hand to my head.

  ‘No! She knows he can’t rule. She’s known all along. It could have worked if the secret had held, but Edward is no use to her now. Neither is his brother. They never will be.’ I feel sick with horror.

  We stare at each other.

  Annie asks, ‘Do you think young Edward knows the secret, Lisa? You’ve been closer to him than most.’

  I shake my head.

  ‘I’m sure he doesn’t.’

  Ever since he was small, Edward has shown no doubt about his future kingship. I can see now, they had to make sure he believed it. Little boys can betray secrets without meaning to. Perhaps that is why he was sent to Rivers at such an early age, to be kept in careful seclusion where he could hear no rumours. The only people he saw at Ludlow either knew nothing, like the archers and sportsmen, or could be relied on, like Dr Alcock and Uncle – heavens! I gasp as it hits me.

  ‘Uncle Richard! He’s the last royal brother. If the boys can’t inherit the throne, he must be the king.’

  Annie looks at me wearily.

  ‘Have you only just seen that? Silly girl – of course he must. But Richard is Elizabeth’s worst enemy. She’ll do anything to keep him from being crowned.’

  ‘They will try to kill him,’ I say with cold certainty.

  ‘Yes. Richard knows that. He’ll make sure he is well guarded. But this won’t get the packing done.’

  Annie gets to her feet and pushes her sleeves up then gives me a stern stare.

  ‘And listen, young Lisa – you will not repeat a word of this conversation to anyone.’

  ‘Of course not.’

  I’d be too terrified.

  21st April 1483

  We started on the long journey to London this morning. Horses, riders, baggage carts – and masses of heavily armed soldiers. People say there are two thousand of them. Two thousand! They have carts piled with guns, some of them so heavy that they need teams of four horses. Looking back and forward along the procession, I cannot see its end or beginning. It is as though we are marching to war.

  All the important people from the castle are with us, Earl Rivers, Dr Alcock, John Vaughan who is the castle treasurer, Elizabeth Woodville’s two sons from her first marriage. The older one, Thomas, is entrusted with much of the castle’s management. Elizabeth herself is in sanctuary with young Richard and her daughters, in Westminster. Uncle Richard is to meet us at a place called Northampton. Messengers say he left York on the 24th, so he must be getting quite near.

  30th April 1483

  We did not stop at Northampton, though we’d been looking forward to unsaddling the horses and getting something to eat. Rivers apologised for the extra hours of riding. He said the Queen had ordered the change. As Elizabeth is in London, I think this cannot be true. It must have been planned. Anyway, we continued on to this place called Stony Stratford and settled into various inns for the night. Then Rivers and Thomas Grey took fresh horses and rode back to Northampton to wait for Richard.

  They came back this morning. Richard was with them, and so was Henry Stafford, the Duke of Buckingham, who had come from London to meet them in Northampton, with a troop of three hundred men. Buckingham is married to Elizabeth Woodville’s sister, Catherine. It was he who signed George’s death warrant. He is a thick-lipped, narrow-eyed man. Annie said she would not trust him with a pet rat. But he is on Richard’s side – at least, for now. He told him that Rivers, Grey and Vaughan were hatching a massive plot against him.

  Buckingham’s servants told us what happened last night. There was a grand dinner in Northampton, as you would expect. Wine was drunk and everyone had a good time. Afterwards, Buckingham and Richard talked together for most of the night. At dawn, Buckingham’s men arrested Rivers and the other two.

  I still can’t believe it. They got Rivers out of a cart with his hands tied, hustled him into an upstairs room and locked the door. Vaughan and Grey as well. They will be taken to Pontefract Castle in Yorkshire, to stand trial. People say they will be executed.

  There must be some reason why Rivers brought us to Stony Stratford then rode all the way back to Northampton. I think it can only be because he did not want Richard to see the carts laden with guns and armaments. We know now that Rivers, Grey and Vaughan were secretly on Henry Tudor’s side, together with the rest of the Woodvilles. The weapons were intended to arm a fleet of ships they planned to build, so they could guard Henry’s fleet when he came from France to invade England. It was high treason.

  Poor young Edward was outraged to see Rivers, in whose house he has lived since he was small, stumbling in with his hands tied. Uncle Richard took him aside and spoke to him quietly for quite a long time. Edward listened and stopped protesting, but afterwards his face was white and troubled. Richard is going to take him the rest of the way to London, and I am glad of that. I have to go on with the rest of the procession, but most of the servants are going back to Ludlow. I think of Tom, and wish I could be with them. But there may still be things I can do for Edward.

  London

  4th May 1483

  When we reached the great city, Uncle Richard took Edward to the Bishop’s Palace in St Paul’s Churchyard. With some other servants, I waited outside the closed door of the room where they were, to see if we would be needed.

  Edward came out with his uncle and the Bishop and some other men. He looked tired, and older than his twelve years. He saw me, and I curtsied to him. He raised me to my feet and said quietly, ‘I have much to thank you for, L
isa. But I am a man now. I will not need you while we are here. When things have settled down, we will meet again.’

  He kissed me on the forehead.

  I will always remember that.

  5th June 1483

  Richard’s wife, Anne Neville, is here now, with Clarence’s orphaned children and their own little boy. I am helping to look after them, perhaps needlessly, as Anne has plenty of servants. But it is better to have something to do, as I have seen no more of Edward and feel useless.

  Richard is organising everything for the coronation on 22nd June. He is sending invitations to the squires who will be knighted at the ceremony and he has ordered Edward’s coronation clothes.

  I am looking forward to the ceremony. I will see Edward again, if only from a distance, and little Richard, too, perhaps. He is still in sanctuary with his mother and sisters, but they must surely come to see Edward crowned.

  8th June 1483

  Dear God, protect us now.

  The wolves, as Annie called them, have hunted out Robert Stillington, an old, white-haired man who is now the Bishop of Bath. They brought him to a Council meeting this morning, and he admitted that he conducted a marriage ceremony between King Edward IV and Lady Eleanor Butler, daughter of John Talbot, 1st Earl of Shrewsbury, several months before Edward married Elizabeth Woodville.

  The secret has burst open like a gaping wound.

  My lovely boys are stripped of all their rights. Neither Edward nor his brother will be crowned, ever.

  This is the end.

  19th May 1483

  Edward has been moved to the Tower of London. Remembering what Annie told me about the death of King Henry in that place, I am filled with fear.

  I sought out Dr Alcock, though I’ve always felt in awe of him, and confessed my worries. He was unexpectedly kind. He said the Archbishop of Canterbury had insisted on the move to ensure Edward’s safety. His brother Richard is to join him in the Tower as soon as Elizabeth agrees.

 

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