The King's Dogge

by Nigel Green

  I glanced at him in surprise. Until this moment I knew Catesby had viewed the attempted rescue of the princes as an ill-conceived venture by a few of the late king’s former servants. Why was he suddenly trying to inflame Richard’s worry?

  ‘Of course, there was to be a revolt!’ stormed Richard. ‘Catesby’s point is valid. It’s only because you failed to detect any of the signs of rebellion, Lovell, that you are sticking obstinately to the view that it does not exist.’

  ‘Of course I do! You’re mistaking shadows for substance. Militarily it would be impossible to mount a rebellion without us knowing about it.’

  Richard leapt to his feet. The ring which he had been rolling against his palm fell to the floor. I picked it up and handed it to him. He grabbed it away from my hand and glared at me.

  ‘You would accuse me of seeing shadows? At least I have the nose to smell danger.’

  ‘There isn’t any!’

  ‘Sweet Christ, Francis, why are you so stupid? Let me reiterate; four men could not suddenly have decided to try and rescue those two royal bastards. There must have been a larger plan. Catesby, you’re supposed to be intelligent, do you not agree?’

  ‘Absolutely, Your Grace,’ Catesby replied smoothly. ‘But while you and Lovell were discussing the matter, I did have a thought as to why the revolt…’

  ‘There isn’t a revolt!’

  ‘Silence, Lovell! At least one of you is making some sense. Continue, Catesby!’

  ‘The rebellion went undetected because it was planned in France or Burgundy. Regrettably, I have no agents in either of those two countries, but it is obvious that either of those states would wish to have the sons of King Edward to use against England. Indeed, Your Grace, the more I think of it, the more certain I become that, had the rescue succeeded, those young boys would have been across the Channel in a few days.’

  A thoughtful silence greeted his explanation. It was so plausible that I found myself nodding slowly, but then I pulled myself together sharply. Surely Catesby could not be correct? Earlier on he had been inclined to be dismissive of the rescue attempt, but now he seemed to be blowing it out of all proportion.

  ‘I don’t agree with…’

  ‘Be silent, Francis!’ Richard shouted. ‘You’re only looking to hide your failure by displaying total ignorance. Now, be quiet you two while I think for a moment.’

  I scowled at Catesby as Richard paced anxiously up and down, because I thought I could see his plan. He was using this situation to promote himself at my expense. With Ratcliffe and now me out of favour, he would rise to become Richard’s closest councillor. Richard quickly came to his own conclusion.

  ‘It fits!’ he snapped at Catesby. ‘Brittany has Henry Tudor, so obviously France would wish to have Edward’s bastard sons as their own candidates for England’s throne. You’re right, Catesby; the French would have got the boys overseas and then mounted an invasion.’

  ‘Possibly to link up with the supporters of the late king in the South of England,’ Catesby interjected deferentially.

  ‘Of course!’ Richard suddenly paused. ‘They would have come when we were farthest away from London.’

  ‘At York, Your Grace!’ Catesby was horrified. ‘But we’ll be there in a month. We must plan countermeasures immediately.’

  ‘Body of Christ, of course we must!’

  ‘There’s another problem,’ Catesby added hurriedly. ‘Clearly the French have planned this very cleverly. But only one group of the men that they’ve hired to rescue the sons of King Edward has been caught.’

  ‘You mean they will have employed more agents to rescue the boys?’

  ‘It would have been prudent, Your Grace. They’re probably already in London.’

  Richard swung round hurriedly.

  ‘You’re right, we must move quickly. I’ll write to Russell immediately, but…’

  I stepped forward. Richard’s fatal impulsiveness had seized hold of him now and he had to be stopped.

  ‘This is lunacy! We have no proof of any of this. We’ve seen no evidence of a conspiracy; all we have is supposition.’

  ‘What’s this total lack of vision, Lovell? You seem totally incapable of grasping the scale of the crises.’

  ‘Because it doesn’t exist!’ I shouted angrily.

  Dear God, I had never seen Richard in such a state before. He was seething with anger, but at the same time his worry was visibly evident. He was pacing round the room and gnawing at his fingernails now.

  ‘Look, let me go investigate. I know what to look for; if I’m wrong, I’ll admit it, but then we can at least plan appropriate measures.’

  ‘That’s an excellent suggestion!’

  Surprisingly Catesby agreed with me, but then a worried look came to his face.

  ‘The trouble is, Francis, that I’m not sure how much time we have. The French plan is probably quite advanced by now and this is the best time to mount a campaign.’

  ‘You’re allegations about the French are fabrications and you know it.’

  ‘Silence!’

  Richard glared at me.

  ‘How can you not see that the attempt to seize the two royal bastards is an obvious prelude to civil war? Jesus, even Ratcliffe would be able to see that!’

  I heard him out and then stepped forward to try and calm him; his face was now white with strain, but Catesby was faster than me.

  ‘Your Grace is shrewd to observe the dangers of a three-sided civil war,’ he observed admiringly. ‘While naturally the Lords of Buckingham, Northumberland and Norfolk would support you against the two royal bastards, their Woodville family and the French, Brittany would inevitably back Henry Tudor. Why, with three different parties involved, the war could go on for years.’

  ‘You’re talking nonsense again!’ I snapped.

  Catesby turned to Richard with concern in his voice.

  ‘Your Grace, we must move quickly, I beg you. We’re wasting time trying to explain the danger to Francis. I beseech you to ignore him in this matter. He’s loyal and devoted to you, I know, but time runs against us and, with poor Ratcliffe not here to help explain matters to Francis, we’re wasting time.’

  It was the mention of my friend’s name that made my anger suddenly explode. Ignoring Richard, I took a step forward and swung hard. There was an immensely satisfying moment as my fist made contact with Catesby’s face. The next thing I recall, the solar was full of the king’s bodyguard and I was hauled away past a prone Catesby.

  It was not until the next day that Richard summoned me to the Great Hall of Minster Lovell. I went slightly shamefaced, but in the certainty that I had been right to prevent Catesby inflaming Richard’s fantasies. As I crossed the courtyard, I wondered whether he would be less worried today. I doubted it, but I was proved wrong. There was colour in his cheeks and he was seated. When he spoke, his voice was calm.

  For the sake of our friendship, he was prepared to overlook my violent attack on Catesby. Indeed, such was Catesby’s nobility of character that he himself had pleaded that I should receive no punishment. He had argued well, pointing out that it was not my fault that I had been unable to grasp the gravity of the situation or the threat to the whole of England and its beloved monarch. Nor indeed did he resent the blow; it was merely a gesture of frustration from one who strove earnestly to keep up with slightly more advanced intellects.

  I groaned.

  ‘Richard, he’s using you.’

  He gave me a kindly look.

  ‘You’re wrong, Francis, but no matter.’

  He got up and strolled to the window.

  ‘We’ll resume the exploration of Minster Lovell now, Francis.’

  ‘Have you got time?’ I asked bitterly. ‘What about the rebellion? Or has Catesby suppressed that for you already?’

  He showed no annoyance at my sarcasm, but began to walk towards the door. As he reached it, he turned and beckoned me to accompany him. Together we strolled out.

  ‘The threat of rebellio
n was very real, Francis, believe me, but it’s dealt with now. We have no need to fear civil war.’

  It seemed best to humour him.

  ‘Indeed? Well, that’s good news.’

  ‘It was Catesby who enabled me to come up with the solution last night. It’s a clever plan.’

  I was not in the mood to discuss Catesby’s clever plans.

  ‘Well, I’m glad it’s all ended satisfactorily. Where’s Catesby now?’

  Richard glanced at me.

  ‘He’s gone to London. There is a need for a certain amount of discretion in my plan and Catesby thought it best if he attended to it personally.’

  He nodded happily, all trace of worry gone.

  ‘He’s a clever fellow Catesby and a loyal man too.’

  ‘He’s using you to advance himself.’

  Richard paused outside the door of the church.

  ‘He warned me that you would say that, but Francis, you have no need to be jealous. You’ll lose nothing by his rise in my service; I’ll confirm your appointment as chamberlain and chief butler and you’ll not lack for rewards.’

  ‘I’m not looking for rewards. I’m just trying to help you as a friend.’

  ‘Then act like one! Catesby’s good and I need clever people around me. I want you and Ratcliffe to work alongside him.’

  I wanted nothing less and imagined that Ratcliffe would feel the same, but I had committed myself to Richard at Berwick and was therefore bound to serve him as he saw fit.

  ‘If you insist,’ I said slowly. ‘We’ll try to work with Catesby for your sake.’

  He was pleased to have got his own way.

  ‘Excellent, Francis!’ He smiled. ‘And when we reach York you may leave me so you can spend some time with your wife.’

  It would be good to see Nan again, but I hesitated.

  ‘You will not require me at York?’

  His smile was both open and honest.

  ‘I’m not saying that I won’t need you, Francis, but with the revolt averted I can spare you for a while.’

  This was not, however, to prove the case. I had only been with Nan for a few days when the summons arrived.

  It was a grim-faced Ratcliffe who greeted me at Pontefract Castle. His manner was usually brusque, but today he was curt in the extreme. His own instructions, he advised me crisply, were simple. The moment I arrived I was to be brought straight to Anne Neville. There was no time to refresh myself or to change my clothing. She required me at once.

  ‘Is it rebellion or invasion?’

  ‘Worse!’ he grunted, as we clattered up the stairs.

  I stopped in amazement.

  ‘What is it then?’

  ‘She’ll tell you herself. Come along.’

  At the top of the stairs, he indicated the chamber.

  ‘In there,’ he said sternly.

  Ratcliffe drew his sword.

  ‘This will be one conversation that no one else will overhear.’ He jerked his head towards the door. ‘Go on in, Francis.’

  Mystified, I tapped softly on the chamber door.

  Anne Neville sat motionless in one of her typically tall-carved chairs. She made no greeting as I bowed but gestured for me to be seated on the wooden seat opposite her. Her pale blue eyes rested only fleetingly on me; I guessed that her thoughts were elsewhere. Judging by the absence of attendants or any other people, I suspected that she had probably been brooding for no small amount of time.

  ‘I require a full account of my husband’s visit to Minster Lovell.’

  Her words, when they came, were clipped and precise.

  ‘From when we arrived, my lady?’

  ‘Of course,’ she said testily.

  I told her everything I could remember about our stay. When I had finished, she sighed deeply.

  ‘But you were certain there was no rebellion?’

  ‘I was.’

  ‘And you said that the next day my husband was much calmer?’

  ‘Certainly. He told me that due to his planning, the rebellion would not happen and forgave me for hitting Catesby.’

  ‘You should have killed Catesby!’ she hissed.

  I was shocked.

  ‘My lady?’

  ‘You should have killed him! You should have torn out that poisonous tongue of his and ripped out whatever manhood that effeminate fat fool possesses!’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Why?’ Her voice was incredulous. ‘I’ll tell you why. That mincing self-server sought to use my husband to advance himself and the gullible idiot believed him.’

  ‘So there was no rebellion?’

  I probably sounded slightly smug by now.

  ‘Of course there wasn’t and stop grinning like that! How anyone can smile after the damage that Catesby has caused us is totally beyond me.’

  She relapsed into brooding silence, but presently another thought must have struck her as she raised her head and demanded to know why I had not bothered to ask the king what his plan had been.

  ‘His plan?’

  Her palm smacked the arm of her chair.

  ‘To end this and all future rebellions, you idiot! How many plans do you think he had?’

  ‘Your husband was not himself that night. He was worked up and wouldn’t listen to reason, although I tried to counsel him. I think I was also angry that he had been so easily duped by Catesby and furious that he locked me up in my own home. So, the next day, since he seemed calmer, the last thing I wanted to do was to rekindle his anger.’

  Anne Neville compressed her lips.

  ‘Would to God that I had been at Minster Lovell!’

  Her finger pointed at me.

  ‘You’re a coward, Lovell! If you’d been a proper man you would have braved my husband’s anger and prevented this folly.’

  ‘Prevented what folly?’

  She ignored me.

  ‘You could have ridden after Catesby and stopped him.’

  ‘Stopped him from doing what?’ I cried in exasperation.

  Anne Neville eyed me incredulously.

  ‘You mean even now, you haven’t guessed what the plan was?’

  Abruptly she gestured to a table where a pitcher of water stood. I filled a glass and handed it to her. For a few moments, she nursed the glass in silence. Then her mouth tightened.

  ‘You failed him and you know it!’

  ‘How can I have failed him when I had no knowledge of what the king was planning to do? Richard would not listen to me; he was determined to be guided by Catesby. I thought that they were both wrong.’

  ‘You failed completely!’ Anne Neville snapped. ‘God knows all men fail ultimately, but you managed to bungle it at the very first opportunity. You knew that my husband requires firm guidance and you neglected to provide it.’

  ‘You’re being totally unreasonable!’ I burst out. ‘All right, Richard has presumably made a mistake. Maybe eventually you’ll actually tell me what he’s done, but don’t start blaming everyone else!’

  ‘Oh why are men such fools?’ she burst out in sudden fury. ‘God, why do you fashion men in your own image yet deny them even the smallest fraction of your all-knowing intelligence? And tell me, sweet Lord, why you provide them with pride instead of brains, so that in their vanity they are incapable of listening to those who are better assisted to guide them?’

  She rose from her chair and gestured at me with her glass.

  ‘You’re no better than he is!’ she said furiously. ‘You sit there so proud and uncaring. Doubtless you believe that we should fall on our knees daily to give thanks for our husbands, don’t you? Well, you try giving thanks for a husband when all the time you’re wondering why God has saddled you with an idiot! And you try to express gratitude for a man whose impulsiveness is such that it causes him to rush into a course of action without even thinking of the consequences.’

  ‘My lady, this is hardly fair or appropriate.’

  ‘Of course it is, you fool! It’s time you heard the one question that a
ll married women ask God at some stage – what sin have I committed to deserve such an idiot for a husband?’

  There was sudden crash as her wine glass smashed against the wall behind me, and then the only sound was a violent sobbing as Anne Neville fell to the ground. I moved towards her and lifted her up. For a moment she struggled, then went limp as I carried her back to the chair. I fetched her more water and then moved to the window to allow her to compose herself. Gradually her crying subsided and she regarded me sullenly with reddened eyes as I sat down again.

  ‘You’ve no idea what’s happened, have you?’

  Her voice was cracked.

  ‘Perhaps if you could just tell me.’

  Her hands fluttered wildly.

  ‘But your loyalty to Richard? Will it, that is, will you?’

  I cut her off.

  ‘I gave my loyalty to your husband at Berwick, my lady. To my mind loyalty, once given, can never be retracted. Whatever Richard has done, I will always serve him. So, come now, tell me what has happened?’

  Anne Neville dabbed her tears and took a deep breath.

  ‘In order to prevent what he wrongly believed to be a major revolt and stop future attempts to support the sons of King Edward, he had the two boys killed.’

  My heart went out to the two young boys. What a terrible way for the young innocents to perish! What needless cruelty and waste!

  ‘Don’t waste your tears on them! News of their deaths is already circulating. The reaction of people is so great that there will be a huge rebellion against us and we will all be swept away.’

  She wrung her hands in frustration.

  ‘Now do you see where my husband’s foolishness and impetuosity has landed us?’

  I said nothing. I felt slightly sick.

  ‘But with your skill you can defeat the rebels,’ she continued quickly. ‘Ratcliffe already has information to assist you to help you plan your campaign and we can easily muster support.’

  She looked at me anxiously.

  ‘You will serve Richard, won’t you, Francis? You’ll stay faithful to him, despite what’s happened.’