The Reluctant Queen

by Виктория Холт

  That was enough. Isabel was crying in Clarence's arms. She was terrified. She knew we were leaving the country and she hated the sea at the best of times. But now my mother had taken charge.

  "Come along. You have heard what your father has said. Isabel, go to your chamber. Anne, get Ankarette to look after Isabel and to prepare at the same time. You have heard your father say we must be ready to leave in an hour."

  Our thoughts were in turmoil as we got a few things together. There would have to be a litter for Isabel and that would impede our progress considerably. But the situation was dangerous. I heard my mother murmur: "Why does there have to be all this trouble? Why cannot men be content to remain where God put them? Why all this striving for power?" But the situation was desperate and if my father said he was in danger of losing his head, we knew those words were not idly spoken. We had heard of too many lost heads not to believe such a statement.

  By the time the hour had elapsed we were on our way to the coast.

  That journey is one I shall never forget. It was brought home to me then how quickly triumph can change to disaster. Only a short time ago the king was my father's prisoner and it seemed that all his plans were succeeding; then suddenly there was a complete change. It was incomprehensible that my father should now be fleeing for his life from the avenging armies of the king.

  We were in imminent danger. We had brought the minimum of goods and servants with us on our father's orders. Ankarette came, as she was in attendance on Isabel and my mother thought she would be useful. We had to think how we should deal with Isabel as we should no longer have the comfort of the lying-in chamber.

  Poor Isabel! I hoped the fact that Clarence was with us would compensate for her discomfort.

  My mother and I rode with my father who looked very grim. He seemed to have aged since I last saw him. This was a bitter blow to his pride and I guessed he was blaming himself bitterly because he had let victory slip through his fingers.

  But there was no time for brooding on the past. We were making for the shores of Dorset and messengers had been sent on to order that as many ships as possible were ready for us, so that we might embark as soon as we reached the coast. It was imperative that we leave the country at the earliest possible moment.

  I wondered why we were going as far west as Dorset, as my father kept some of his best ships at Southampton.

  So we rode on during that day, unsure whether at any moment we might be intercepted by my father's enemies and he be taken to London ... to the Tower, possibly to await his death. And what would happen to us? I was sure the king would not allow us to be treated harshly, but the idea of a life without my father was difficult to contemplate. It must not be, I kept saying to myself. It cannot be. My father was invincible. I had been brought up to believe that, and it was not difficult to convince myself now that it was true.

  What a relief it was when at last we were in sight of the sea. Those who had gone ahead had been successful in commandeering a ship. It was enough. My father and Clarence directed us all on board. Isabel had the best cabin and could be fairly comfortable there, I hoped. I prayed that we might reach Calais before her pains started.

  My father's being Captain of Calais meant that we should be sure of care and attention there and in the castle would be all that we needed.

  I said to Isabel: "It is fitting that your first child should arrive in the very town where you were married."

  However, it was not to be so, and we encountered further misfortunes, for when we joined my father's fleet at Southampton a further shock awaited us.

  The new Lord Rivers, who had succeeded to the title when his father was executed, was waiting there for us. He had a score to settle. A battle ensued, during which several of my father's ships were lost. He decided that he would take what were left and get away before Rivers could bring in reinforcements.

  The sound of gunfire was terrifying and my mother and I were with Isabel in her cabin where we tried to talk lightly, although we all knew that any moment might be our last.

  "Your father always wins in the end," said my mother firmly.

  "Once we are safe in Calais all will be well. How are you feeling, Isabel?" Isabel was not sure. She thought the pains might begin at any moment.

  "Let us pray that we reach Calais before they do. It is not a long trip really and if the sea is kind ..."

  We were away. The battle was over. I learned later that my father had feared that there might be trouble at Southampton which was the reason why he had arranged for us to embark in Dorset. He had lost one or two ships in the battle, but we should rejoice because we were on our way to Calais.

  How relieved we were to sight land! Our father sent out signals. The Captain of Calais had arrived. He was waiting to be welcomed.

  To our dismay we heard gunfire. This was amazing as Lord Wenlock, in charge of the castle, was one of my father's agents. A small boat was sent in to find out the meaning of this apparently hostile reception.

  A message came back from Lord Wenlock informing my father that the king had sent orders which had arrived only a short time before the earl and his party, and these orders forbade him to allow the earl to enter Calais. Lord Wenlock greatly regretted this but he must obey the king's orders.

  My father was nonplussed. He had come so far, only to be refused entry. This meant that he was no longer considered to be Captain of Calais.

  He was in despair, and just at that time Isabel began to give birth to her child.

  This took our thoughts from all other matters. The danger to Isabel was acute as the birth showed signs of being difficult, and we had none of the usual comforts to ease the delivery.

  "If only we had some wine," cried my mother. That might help to soothe her and deaden the pain."

  That was one of the most terrifying times of my life. I shall never forget the agonised cries of my sister. I felt sure she was going to die. I kept thinking of her as she had been so happy, so merry, so contented with her marriage, so gratified that she had so quickly proved that she could bear children; and now, here she was, on a none-too-calm sea without adequate provisions, in acute agony and in danger of losing not only her baby but her life.

  At such times one realises how much one loves people and how heart-breaking it is to see those whom we love suffering, particularly when we are helpless to do anything to alleviate that suffering. Isabel and I had bickered often enough, it was true, but she was my sister, a part of my life, and I could not imagine being without her.

  My father was at the door of the cabin. His eyes were anxious and I felt a sudden tenderness towards him. He does love us, I thought. He truly does. It is only that he is so busy fighting to keep his power that there is little time to show it.

  "How is she?" he asked.

  "Poorly," replied my mother.

  "If we had a little wine ... even ..."

  "You think that would help?"

  "She could sip it and it has a soothing effect. It might even dull the pain."

  My father sent one of the small boats in with a message to Wenlock asking him for wine for his daughter who was in childbirth. He said the man should be his friend but at times like these how could one know who was a friend? But he understood Wenlock must obey the king's orders. Warwick was no longer the Kingmaker; he was an outcast from England fighting for survival.

  However, Wenlock did comply with the request and to my mother's delight he sent the man back with two casks of wine.

  There was something else which Wenlock did. With the wine came a secret message to my father telling him that it would be folly for him to attempt a landing. It was what they were hoping he would do. He had authorised the gunfire to prevent such a landing. The earl should make his way to a French port for it was certain that Louis would be hospitable to his old friend.

  It was sound advice.

  Meanwhile, Isabel's condition was becoming desperate. The wine helped a little but she was very ill: and I guessed from Ankarette's pursed lips
and unhappy expression that something was wrong.

  My mother came to tell me.

  "She is sleeping now. Poor child. It was a difficult birth."

  "And the child? Is it a boy?"

  The child was a boy," she said.

  Understanding flashed into my mind.

  I said: The child ... is dead?"

  My mother nodded.

  Our great concern was Isabel. My mother and Ankarette were with her. There was no room for anyone else in the small cabin. If I could have been with her I should have felt easier in my mind, but to be shut away from my sister whom I had known all my life and might never know again filled me with numbed misery.

  I thought of her trying on her wedding dress, so contented with herself and life. She was to marry Clarence; she would be Queen of England: the child she would have would one day be king; she would start a dynasty ... the dynasty of York and Warwick. What dreams to come to nothing!

  I prayed for her to live. Perhaps that prayer would be granted. Then I prayed for the impossible that we could go back to Middleham and be girls together ... back in the happy days with Richard of Gloucester among the boys who came to my father's castle to learn the arts of war.

  At last I was allowed to go and see her, but only for a short time.

  My mother had said: The worst is over. With care she will recover."

  She lay back exhausted ... free of pain ... the useless, futile, purposeless pain. I felt a sense of relief that she was not yet aware that the child which had cost her so dearly was dead.

  My mother came to me and said: "She is breathing more easily. She will recover, I hope and pray. I rejoice that we have not lost our Isabel."

  The ship was pitching and tossing. In the extremity of our anxiety we had not noticed the discomfort. Now, as I stood up, I had to cling to my mother for support.

  "There is the burial," she said. I was glad Isabel was spared that.

  They had sewn the little body into a sheet. I could not bear to look at it. It was so depressing small and helpless. All those months it had been growing, waiting for that moment when it would come into the world ... and it had come only to leave it.

  The captain of the vessel was saying a prayer. We stood in silence as the sheet encasing the little body slipped into the water.

  The Road to Barnet

  How peaceful it was within those convent walls'. I was dazed by all that had happened and although in my heart I knew this was only a respite, there was an overwhelming comfort to be on dry land, away from violent conflict, able to listen to the low soft voices of the nuns and the sound of the bells calling them to prayer.

  They had cared for us tenderly since our arrival on the orders of the King of France that they should succour us and give us all we needed to restore us after our ordeal. But I like to think they would have been good to us without that command.

  For the first days I just gave myself up to the luxury of that peaceful ambiance; it was only later that I began to ask myself, for how long?

  After the burial of the child, we had continued at sea. My father was very angry that he had been denied entry into Calais, and for this he blamed the Duke of Burgundy; he had to appease that anger, and he made a point of sailing along the coast and taking any Burgundian vessel in sight.

  We had grown accustomed to the sound of gunfire ... of the rejoicing when another prize had been captured as we sailed along the Channel, flying the emblem of the Ragged Staff. Warwick, fleeing from his country, denied entrance to Calais, throwing himself on the mercy of the King of France, must show Burgundy and Edward and Louis that he was a force to be reckoned with.

  There we were three helpless women, my mother, my sister and I only half realising what was happening to us. It seemed we had lost our home ... lost everything ... and were doomed to sail forever on an unpredictable sea.

  But it could not last. Of that we were certain. And it was a great relief to us when we sailed into Honfleur harbour, honoured guests of the King of France.

  What I did not know then was that my father had needed that time he spent on plundering to make up his mind. While he ranged the seas like a pirate, he was coming to a conclusion. He was too ambitious to be easily defeated. He had gambled with Edward first and misjudged him; then in desperation he had turned to Clarence. He was a kingmaker by nature. He himself wanted to rule, but the rights of kings came through inheritance and for that reason he could not be king but he could make a king who should rule through him.

  Now there was only one way he could turn. It must be a complete contradiction of all that had gone before. It needed a great deal of consideration before he embarked on this road. He hated the Lancastrians. Henry was mad and there was his difficult and domineering wife to deal with. Could he do it? That was what he had to decide while he roamed the seas. And when he went to Honfleur, he had made that decision. Perhaps it was fortunate for me that I did not know of it, but if I had I should never have guessed what effect it was going to have on me.

  But when we came ashore at Honfleur, nothing seemed of any importance but the blessed relief of escaping from the sea; but before we could land we had to have the permission of the King of France to do so and the prizes our father had taken were a stumbling block. The relationship between Louis and Burgundy was considerably strained and the King of France could scarcely receive with honour one who had perpetrated such acts of war upon the duke. So the fleet was sent off while we remained in harbour awaiting Louis' pleasure.

  Louis heard of Isabel's condition and declared that ladies should not be subjected to more hardship. He would arrange for us to be housed in a convent while the earl came to his court for discussion between them which he was sure would be advantageous to them both. Thus for us to the convent and temporary relief.

  Under the care of the nuns, Isabel grew a little better. She was more frail and needed to rest often. Deeply she mourned the loss of the child and talked of him often. The fact that he had been aboy made it even harder to endure. He would have been everything that she had hoped for.

  "All those months of discomfort and then ... nothing. she mourned.

  "You can have more children. People often lose one." I comforted her.

  "I don't want to go through all that again. But I suppose one has to do it. It is one's duty ... especially when ..." I knew she was thinking of Clarence as King of England. She seemed to have forgotten that we were in flight from England, that Edward was king and unlikely to lose his throne to Clarence. Had she not realised yet that her husband was weak and vain, that my father was getting impatient with him and was regretting he had ever thought of putting him on the throne? She would not accept that, of course, and it was perhaps better to let her have her dreams, particularly when the reality was too bleak to contemplate.

  My father was in constant touch with our mother. I always felt uneasy when letters arrived at the convent; and I think she did, too. I was always afraid that they would contain orders for us to pack and depart perhaps go to sea again.

  I wanted to stay here. I loved the quiet life, but I knew it was asking too much that it should last.

  One day my mother received a communication from my father and she sent for me. As soon as I saw her face I was filled with misgivings.

  "There is something I have to say to you, Anne."

  "My father.."

  "I have heard news from him. He mentions you." But why?"

  "Because it is something that concerns you." I stared at her in amazement.

  "Your father has spent some time with the King of France. Louis is a strange man but he and your father have always been good friends. Part of the trouble was Edward's friendship with Burgundy, and for a long time there has been discord between the kings of France and the dukes of Burgundy."

  I knew her well enough to realise she was putting off telling me this news which concerned me, and that was because it was something which I was not going to like. I was beginning to feel more and more uneasy.

  "As yo
u know." she went on, "your father was badly deceived by Edward."

  "You mean his marriage?"

  "It was most unsuitable. Not so much because he married so much beneath him, which he did, of course, but because of those greedy Woodvilles."

  "I know all this," I said.

  "I have heard it many times. Please tell me what it is that concerns you."

  "You are of a marriageable age."

  I felt terror grip me. They had found a husband for me. A French husband. I should be torn from my home ... from my mother, from Isabel... from Middleham. I had always dreaded it and here it was.

  "Many girls in your position would be betrothed by now. It has been been a great joy for me to be able to keep you with me."

  "Tell me ... tell me who it is .."

  "You will be surprised. Your father has always been such an ardent Yorkist. But things have changed. There has been too much perfidy. Your father has decided to support King Henry. After all, as the son of the late King Henry the Fifth, he is the rightful inheritor of the throne. He comes before Edward of York. Now Henry has a son "Henry's son! Prince Edward!"

  "That is so. I heard he is a handsome boy, perhaps a year older than you ... which will be just right. You are really very fortunate."

  I could not believe this. I had always heard that Henry was mad: Queen Margaret was a virago; their son Edward, a vapid youth of no importance. My father had changed sides ... so blatantly. How could he? We had been brought up to believe that the Lancastrians were our enemies ... and now they were planning to make me one of them.

  "It cannot be true!" I gasped.

  "My dear child, it is true. Your father is going to put Henry back on the throne and he wants you to be the wife of the Prince of Wales."

  "Oh no ... please ..." She took me into her arms and I saw the tears on her cheeks.

  She said: "We have to accept our fate, my dearest. It is what we are born for. It happens to all of us."