The Throne

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by Griff Hosker


  Despite the hard work and erratic winters, we prospered and we grew closer. My wife was happy for we were rich beyond her wildest dreams. The coin I had brought back from the Baltic and the money we had found in the hall meant that we could have four bad winters and still, we would not have to endure hardship. All was well.

  And then, not long after we had planted our fields for the third time, a messenger came from King Richard. He needed me. I had not heard from him for years but I did not hesitate. I was summoned to Sheen Manor, his private home on the Thames. The King had built a hunting hall and he and Anne of Bohemia spent many days there with just their servants. I took my men at arms, squires and Tom whom I was training as a page. This would be a chance for him to see the greatest in the land.

  Sheen Manor was upstream from London. It was a country house rather than a castle. King Richard had loved Eltham but London had begun to spread out and impinge upon his castle. When he had been young, the peasants under Wat Tyler had revolted. That event had given him a fear of the common people. He was a good king but he feared his people. It was part of the complex puzzle that was King Richard. He liked his privacy. He had been on the throne for seventeen years. He had been married for twelve years and thus far God had denied him children. I wondered if that was the reason for my summons. I had been close to both of them. I had been the man responsible for foiling the assassins’ plots in the early years of his reign. I was looking forward to seeing them both, especially the Queen. She was a lovely woman both from within and without. I wondered if I was summoned so that they could tell me she was with child. That would set the seal on a peaceful England. I hoped that was the reason for I knew the joy which children brought. I decided I would mention Peter the Priest to her when I met her again. She was a kind woman and if she gave her patronage to the almshouse then life would be easier for my friend.

  As we neared the manor, I sensed that some darkness lay upon the hall. A black standard hung limply from the hall. Roger of Chester said, quietly, “Does this mean the King is dead?”

  “We would have heard while we travelled south. This may be one of the King’s moods. You know how he was.”

  “Aye, lord.” Roger and my men at arms had escorted the King in the months before Radcot Bridge. He knew him well.

  Although it was just a manor there was a strong guard there. I had been King Richard’s first captain. The second, Mavesyn, had almost done for the King and so he had chosen more wisely. Dick of Craven was grey now but he smiled, albeit wanly, when he saw me. “The King will be glad you came, my lord.”

  “Dick, what is it?”

  He shook his head, “That is not for me to say, my lord. The King will speak with you. What I will say is that it is good that you have come. He needs you and you alone.” He waved over a page, “Henry here will take you to him. I will take your men to the barracks. It is good to see you again, Roger of Chester.”

  “And you, Dick!”

  My men at arms knew Dick and his guards well. They spoke the same language for they had experienced the same troughs and peaks as they guarded the monarch. I took my squires and son with me. As we walked, I said, “The King and Queen may wish to speak privately with me. You must honour that privacy.”

  John said, “Aye, lord. All will be well.”

  The page took us to a feasting hall. It was not large and looked more intimate than any I had seen before but it was lit by two solitary candles. The King was seated on a throne and, despite the warm weather outside, was seated on a large chair before a fire. More, he was shrouded in black. The room was shrouded in darkness save for the King on his throne.

  The page said, quietly, “Your Majesty, Sir William of Weedon.”

  The King looked up for the words had sounded loud in the tomb-like room. He leapt to his feet and waved a hand to dismiss the page. He hurried towards me and threw his arms around me, “You came! I knew you would. You have come too late but that is God’s will for he has cursed me!”

  To my dismay, he began to sob on my shoulder.

  Behind me, I heard John say, to Tom and Ralph, “Let us withdraw and watch the door.” I heard the door close as they left.

  I patted the King’s back. I did not know what else to do. I allowed him to weep. When he had done, he sniffed and then pushed himself away from me. He said simply, “Anne is dead, Will! The Queen has died. I sent for you when first she became ill.” I saw in the light from the fire that he had a gaunt and haunted look on his face. He looked like a hunted animal. He looked around as though someone might be following me then, taking my arm, he led me over to a table which had a black sheet upon it. He pulled it back and I saw, beneath, a mummified body. I knew it to be the Queen. “She died of the plague.” It took all of my strength not to run screaming from the chamber. The plague killed all it touched. He stroked the mummified head, “Why did God not take me too? How did I survive? God must hate me to separate me from my Anne. He can be a cruel God. I cannot take my own life for then I would not join her. She was shriven and died with a smile on her lips.” He looked up at me and smiled, “It was she asked for you to come. She knew she would die and she said you would bring me comfort. Can you bring me comfort, Will?”

  This was not an easy subject for me. I thought back to the crusade. I thought of those who had lost as the King had lost. “She is, as you say, lord, with God and she is at peace. She has no pain and, as she was shriven then she is in heaven.”

  “But I am not with her!” He suddenly looked around, “Robert died two years since, you know?” I knew who he meant, Robert de Vere, Earl of Oxford. “Did God take him too or was he murdered? Either way, it shows that I am a cursed King.”

  I put my arm around him and began to guide him towards the door. I needed him away from the body of his wife. My intimate gesture, in itself, could be seen as a treasonous act but the man in the room with me was as sick as any plague victim. “You are not cursed, King Richard. For the last seven years, your kingdom has seen peace and prosperity. That is down to you and your good Queen for you rid yourselves of those who would use and abuse you.”

  We were near to the door and he stopped, “You never liked Robert did you, William?”

  “It was he who had me dismissed, my lord. The Queen liked me.”

  He looked back to the shadows on the far side of the room, “She had a good heart. We tried to have children you know. That is why I think I was cursed for she could not conceive. You have children?”

  “Aye, lord. Sons and a daughter.”

  “Then you are truly blessed.”

  I opened the door and the light from outside made me shade my eyes. The King tried to return to the hall. I held him firmly, “No, King Richard, your wife is dead and she must be laid to rest.” He turned to look up at me and I saw terror in his eyes. I also saw how thin and gaunt he was. “You know that she would wish it done well.”

  His eyes began to fill with tears and he nodded, “Aye, you are right. You are always right.”

  “You will eat and change into more regal attire and we will plan the funeral.” I saw the page and my squires standing close by, “Henry, we will have food. Is there another room where we can dine?”

  “Aye, lord, in the western range.”

  “Then when you have organised the food fetch us there. The King and I will go and meet some old friends.” I was in a foreign land here. This was not what I knew. The King liked and trusted my men. Perhaps their comradeship might bring him from his stupor. If England’s enemies knew of his state then the country could descend into anarchy and chaos. I could not allow that. I now worked the land and knew that the poor people could not have their peace and prosperity snatched away by this tragic act. When we emerged from the hall into the courtyard, I saw the sentries stare at us as though they had seen a ghost. Dick of Craven and Roger of Chester approached.

  Dick bowed, “It is good to see you, my liege. The sun smiles upon you.”

  The King nodded, dully and I said, “See, Highness, it i
s Roger of Chester.”

  The pained look on Roger’s face told me that he, too, saw the change in the King. “It has been some years since we rode with you around England, King Richard.”

  He seemed to see Roger, “The Queen was fond of you and your men, Captain. You were as loyal and trustworthy as your master. Would that the rest of England was so loyal.”

  I nodded, “And they are, Highness. Come, let us have food and then plan how you will lay your wife beneath the ground.” I had much work to do.

  Over the next two days, I worked as hard with the King as I had worked on anything. His courtiers, advisers and priests had retired for they were afraid of his temper. The presence of my men seemed to give the King some stability. He decided he would have a double tomb built in Westminster Abbey. His darkness meant that he still saw his own death as something that was almost imminent. Perhaps he thought he carried the plague within him. After four days we put his wife’s body in her carriage and we rode, in the dark of night, to Westminster. The King’s priests had ridden to prepare the Archbishop and the church rallied around the King. While she lay in state, we went to the Palace of Westminster. As Dick of Craven told me, just moving the King from Sheen Manor was an achievement. Now we had to make him a king once more. The measure of his mood was that, on leaving the manor, he had it razed to the ground. It was as though he was burning all trace of the disease and the pain of losing the love of his life.

  John of Gaunt arrived at the palace. He had finally given up on his goal of becoming King of Castile. The attempt had cost him money. He might be the richest man in England but that was not enough to buy him a kingdom. He arrived at Westminster with his own advisers. He spied me in the antechamber. The King was going over the finer details of the funeral with the Dean of the Abbey.

  King Richard had granted him a further title of Duke of Aquitaine to go with the Dukedom of Lancaster. I bowed as he approached, “Your Grace.”

  “I am pleased that you are here, Sir William. The Queen was a good influence on the King and you appear to be another. My son speaks well of you. Tell me all.”

  I had known the Duke in Castile and I had known his brother, the Black Prince, better for he had been my lord. I trusted him. This was no Robert de Vere nor Michael de la Pole. John of Gaunt had lost any ambition to be the King of England long ago. That did not mean he would not wish to see his son as King but I could trust him. I had to, for who else was there?

  He had his men guard the door and I told him all that I knew and all that I feared. He nodded, “You are an honest man. Your plain roots do you proud. There is no deception within you and I believe you have it aright. We must steer the King in the right direction for England depends upon it. First, we bury the Queen. I liked Anne and she was a good influence. Then we see about giving him a purpose. He has been indolent for too long. The Percys and the Nevilles gain glory fighting the Scots and the King does nothing. He needs something to drag him from this pit into which he has thrown himself. Leave this with me.” He stood. “We will need you and your men to accompany the King. He will be preoccupied with the funeral for a month or so. Return to your home and settle your affairs. Hire another twenty men; equal numbers of sergeants and archers. You have a good eye. Return here within a month and we will go to war.”

  I was confused, “Go to war, my lord? With whom?”

  He smiled, “There are many enemies out there. Let us find one the king can defeat, eh?”

  “My lord, should I not be here for the funeral?”

  “A Queen has died. This will be a ceremony filled with the nobility of the land. These are my people. If my son was here, he might help me but I am comfortable with them. You can do more good by hiring men and horses to fight for the King.” He waved over one of his squires and took a purse from him. He handed it to me. “If this is not enough then ask for more when you return. A month, mind, no more. We will act quickly and drive Anne from his mind. I will find him another bride. A King without an heir is vulnerable. Now go. I will say your farewells.”

  I was dismissed. As we headed north to my home, I thought about the coldness of the Duke of Lancaster. He had praised the Queen and dismissed her in the same breath. The King would barely have the chance to mourn and there would be another bride. However, the nearer to my home I came the more I realised that this was the right thing to do. If I had not gone to Sheen Manor then he might have fallen into such a pit of despair that he would never have risen.

  It was getting on to dark as we passed Northampton. “Roger, I would have you ride to Northampton tomorrow and see if you can find ten sergeants for me. I have coin to pay them. You had better have the seamstress we use make thirty more surcoats.”

  “Aye, lord.”

  “Ralph, I would have you take David and Wilfred and ride to your father’s farm for I need twenty horses.” I smiled, “I will be keeping my promise to your mother.” Ralph had visited twice since he had moved to Weedon, a third visit would bring joy to Mistress Mary.

  Tom asked, “And what do we do, father?”

  “We fit you for war. I know not where we fight but you will need a hauberk, helmet and shield. You have not needed them hitherto but when we go to war you shall.”

  “Can I have armour?”

  “You will not need armour and besides, your body is not yet strong enough to carry it. Ralph will buy you a better palfrey.” I turned to Ralph. You will not have long, Ralph. We leave in less than four weeks’ time.”

  My wife was upset at the death of the Queen. She had never met the lady but I had spoken of the couple so often that, to my wife, it was as though a friend had died. “And you go off again, my husband?”

  I nodded, “Aye, and I take our son with me.”

  “Just so.” I heard the resignation in her voice. She was not as Mary, Red Ralph’s wife, had been for she knew that Tom would not be a farmer. Harry was seven and I think my wife was preparing him to be the farmer. I suppose I had put my efforts into making my eldest the warrior.

  That night I spoke with John of Aldgate and Alan of the Wood. “John, I know not how long we shall be away. You know better than any the vagaries of war.”

  “Aye, lord.”

  “I devolve to you the training of the men of the parish. Do not relent. The Earl of Northampton is abroad but if he should return to join us in this war then he might call out the levy and they need to be prepared. The last thing we need is for them to be slaughtered because they are unprepared.”

  “Do not worry, my lord, they will be. I may not have your skills, Alan of the Wood, but I know how you have trained them and I can crack the whip if needs be.”

  “And you, Alan, go to Lincoln. We need ten archers. You know the sort of men we require. You have a week to bring them back here for we have to make them our own. I know not where we go to war but I want us all to return and that means fighting as one. We will be protecting the King once more.”

  “And there is no nobler task. Fear not my lord. Old Tom is a good friend and he will find the men that we need.”

  The next morning, I rode around my tenants for I wished them to know the task I had been given. It was a sign of the bond which had developed when they all gave me their complete support. There were no doubtful looks and sideways glances. They looked me in the eye and I saw into their souls. My penultimate call was to Martin the Smith. When I had first come to the village, I was pleased that there was a blacksmith. Edgar was my smith at Stony Stratford and he was happy there. I would not uproot him. Martin worked mainly as a farrier but I discovered that he had such a love of metal that he could turn his hand to the making of armour.

  “Well, Martin, I have a task for you which you may not be able to complete. If you cannot then I will understand.”

  He grinned, “A challenge, my lord, is something I enjoy. Speak on.”

  “I need a hauberk for my son Tom and a sallet.”

  He looked at Tom. He had grown a little and his chest had filled out but he was not yet a man g
rown. “He has some growing to do. The hauberk and the sallet will last him but a couple of years, lord.” He was thinking of the expense.

  “I know.”

  He looked at his workshop. He had metal. We had brought back old swords from the crusade. All had been of poor quality but, over the last years, he had used some for ploughshares and other farming implements. He still had metal left. “The helmet is not a problem, lord. It is the mail. I have the metal but it takes time to make a hauberk and I am guessing that you will need a coif. I cannot see how I would have the time to make both. A hauberk would take a month or more. I could manage a coif.”

  “We go to war, Martin. I would not have my son put at risk.”

  Just then John slapped his head, “My lord, I am a fool!” He rushed off.

  “Well, let us measure Master Tom for the sallet and the coif. Those I can begin.”

  I took out a purse and placed twelve silver coins on his bench. “This will pay for the coif and sallet?”

  “Aye, lord, that is plenty for you gave me the metal and I owe you the labour.”

  “You are a skilled man and we pay for such skill.”

  John ran back in. He was carrying a heavy sack. “When you came back from Castile you brought this, my lord. It was intended for me, I believe, but we found a better one after we defeated the men who took the manor of Stratford. It has been with the other old weapons in the storeroom.” He pulled out a hauberk. It was too big for Tom, that much was obvious but it could be adapted.

  Martin smiled, “Here, Master Tom, let me try it on you.” With John helping they draped it over his shoulders. I saw him wince at the weight. It had long sleeves which covered his hands and the bottom reached the floor. It was also too wide. Martin nodded approvingly, “We can make the sleeves into mittens, lord. I can take the mail below the knee and use that to make a coif. The hardest part will be to make it slimmer. I do not want to damage the integrity of the whole.”

  “For now, make it shorter and convert the ends to mittens. We need an aketon making for him. When he has the aketon we shall see how the whole fits together.” I turned to John, “Thank you, John. You are a good squire.”

 

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