The Jewels of Warwick

by Diana Rubino

  "Your grace, welcome to Warwick Castle." She curtsied low and he held out his hand. It was large, yet graceful and slender, with fingers that could compel a keyboard into an exquisite blend of harmony, fingers that could run rivers through a harp.

  She rose and grasped his fingertips, and for the first time, she and her King, that illusory object of her fancies, touched.

  He smiled, obviously pleased at what he saw. "Lady Amethyst, the Lady Sabine tells me you are quite a talented lutist and organist." His voice was light and amicable.

  Her hand still tingled where he'd touched it. She opened her mouth to reply, nodded and finally found her voice. "Oh, yes, your grace. I would enjoy playing for your grace during your visit, as I've composed several songs just for the occasion."

  She hadn't meant to blurt it all out at once. But at this point she was beyond thinking, and her mouth and brain were two separate entities.

  "We would be pleased. It would be an appropriate accent to these splendid festivities."

  As the King moved on, she suddenly realized how cold her fingers were and she hoped he hadn't noticed. She scurried over to the fire and warmed her trembling hands.

  The festivities began in earnest the next day. The Yule log was cut, and the King, with the immediate members of his party, attended Mass in the chapel along with Amethyst, Sabine and Emerald. Later they enjoyed masques, miming, and songs and jokes by the jesters and fools.

  The great hall was ablaze with thousands of candles in their talons fixed in the chandeliers above. The royal dais was laid with fine linen upon which were set plates and goblets of gold. Fires blazed in the hearths. Minstrels played in the loft overlooking the great hall.

  To Amethyst, this was the next best thing to actually being at court. Warwick Castle glittered like a palace, graced by royalty, and she felt as if she'd been born to revel in it all.

  The King invited Amethyst to join the King's Musick, the company of court musicians, for a few pieces. There were thirty members of the current King's Musick, several lutists playing the treble lute, the larger arch lute, a theorbo and cittern. There was a harpist; a recorder and hornpipe player; two clarions; three musicians each playing the virginals; a dulcimer; three viola-da-gambas; two viols; and a rebec. The gallery also had a clavichord; Amethyst doubled as the clavichordist, and thrilled at its somber strains that echoed and swirled through every corner of the great hall.

  When the King signaled his chief steward that he wanted to begin eating, the party took to the tables and feasted. The servers brought game: venison, crane, quail, duck, rabbit, goose, seafood: oysters, crayfish, prawns, and the King's favorite, baked lampreys, all upon gold trays. All this was washed down with wine, and once everyone had eaten their fill of the savory dishes, dessert was an assortment of pastries, fruit pies, and a sugar sculpture of Warwick Castle.

  When that was all cleared away, dancing began in the great hall. Amethyst finished playing and came down to watch as the courtiers danced to the sprightly tunes coming from the loft above. Tonight she was eager to dance, with someone, anyone... The thought of dancing with the King crossed her mind and she giggled. How absurd!

  He led out the first dance with Queen Catherine, in a pavane, and Amethyst couldn't take her eyes off the King's strong leg muscles as he led the Queen around the floor. The King's Musick then played a few motets composed by the King himself.

  He was now dancing with Lady Margaret, exchanging small talk as they pranced along. Margaret, though getting on in years, had no trouble keeping up with the energetic King, and it was obvious he had great admiration and respect for her.

  Then the King approached Amethyst, and her heart simply stopped. The music swirled round them and the candles' glow spun over her head like a thousand dazzling suns. "Would you care to dance, Lady Amethyst?"

  "I would be honored, your grace, but my dancing leaves much to be desired."

  "Simply follow me, then." She could have sworn that his smile lit up the entire great hall.

  As their hands touched lightly, a thrill emanated from her every pore and rushed through her body. They moved together so naturally, becoming one with the music, and he led her gracefully, his sense of rhythm and timing flowing through to her, as the music captured their souls and brought a harmonious blend to the spark already glowing between them.

  Yet the King made her feel at ease, for his youth and enjoyment of the moment pervaded any authoritative sternness one would expect of a king. They danced and enjoyed each other as two young people sharing their love of music and movement. She was sure she was in heaven, and that nothing could ever mar such perfect happiness.

  The following day, a page brought Amethyst a message from the King to her chambers. He wanted her to meet him in the conservatory for a musical afternoon!

  Without sensing anything unseemly in the invitation, she ran for her lute, her music, and asked her chambermaid to lay out her burgundy velvet gown with the rabbit-trimmed square neckline. It was elegant, not flashy enough for evening wear, yet just appropriate to join the King for an afternoon.

  He had not yet arrived when she entered the conservatory. Of course not. Why would a king sit waiting for one of his subjects? Protocol demanded that she arrive first. She spent the next few moments tuning her lute and practicing scales on the virginals.

  He then joined her, dressed simply in a cream chemay over which he wore a satin doublet, velvet breeches and silk hose shot with swirls of gold embroidery. He was completely devoid of jewels except for a square ruby ring on his thumb.

  He greeted Amethyst politely, commented on the lovely weather, and took his harp from its velvet-lined case. "I would play a little ditty I wrote whilst riding here to Warwick."

  "You wrote a song upon your horse? How do you compose without an instrument, my lord?"

  He waved away her comment airily. "'Tis nothing. The notes enter my head, the melody plays to me over and over, and by the time I can sit down to a sheet of parchment, I can simply write them down. There is no need for an instrument. Not until the actual playing."

  "That is magnificent, my lord. I cannot compose without the instrument."

  "Ah, perhaps you shall learn. Try it. All gifted musicians have the ability. Do you not ever have melodies playing through your head?"

  She nodded. "Oh, all the time! Especially in dreams. Beautiful melodies visit me in my dreams. But I awaken and forget them so quickly. It would never occur to me to write them down."

  "Try it next time. Keep parchment and pen by your bed. Write the notes down whilst they are still in your head."

  "I shall try that, sire." She'd always had the desire to compose all the time rather than just play the music of others—she simply didn't think she had the ability.

  He positioned his fingers on his harp and she noticed that his hands were so big, his ring didn't even touch the delicate strings. The harmonic strains of his simple tune filled the room.

  She began strumming chords with her plectrum, accompanying his melody. The strains blended, creating a complete tonal consonance that only musicians completely in tune with each other could deliver.

  His eyes closed and on he played, his body swaying with the music, a dreamlike expression on his face, making his entire being one with the instrument. On they played together, exchanging each other's music, adding notes here and there, changing a chord or two, and the King accompanied her on the harp while she played the virginals.

  She was especially proud of her singing voice, a clear sharp soprano, and prided herself on her ability to sing such high notes.

  The King, a resonant baritone himself, harmonized with her beautifully. This was just as she had dreamed so long ago! To sit with the King and share her love for music... This was more of an honor that any titles or riches!

  Later they sat on the plush chairs facing the windows overlooking the River Avon. "Now that we're aware we can share the language of music so well, what about a verbal exchange?" the King asked suddenly, breaking into the
silence left as the last note died away.

  "What is it that you would know of me, your grace?" she asked, sincerely. What would King Henry want to know about the daughter of a murdered heir to the throne?

  "Have you any prospects of marriage?" he asked, catching her off guard. She'd expected him to ask her about her Latin studies or her religious inclinations, but not this!

  "Why, nay, your grace. I would like to continue my studies for a bit longer before I consider marriage. We have had wonderful tutors, several from Harrow and Eton, and although I enjoy creating fancy patterns with my needlework, I so enjoy learning, about history, and about arithmetic because I like numbers. I find the Latin language fascinating because so many of our own words come from Latin.

  "My sister Topaz loves animals, and my youngest sister Emerald is most interested in botany, about how plants reproduce and whether they have feelings, but most of all I prefer to learn about music. It is so much like arithmetic, the way the quarter notes and half notes all must add up to fit the time signature, the number of beats you must put in each measure. 'Tis very much a blend of body and soul."

  "Aye, Lady Amethyst, 'tis a harmonious blend of science and art, but one need not be a scientist to enjoy it," he said, looking at her with a renewed interest she could not fail to notice.

  "So, with all my studies, attending services at five, and falling into bed quite tired at night, I have not given much thought to a parti. I would finish one chapter of my life ere opening another."

  He smiled, and the smile touched his eyes. Yet he had not a wrinkle. "Quite wise, Lady Amethyst. One or two more years will not hurt. My Queen Catherine was but thirteen when she married my departed brother Arthur, and royals are known to be betrothed virtually at birth as a matter of necessity. But I have always relished the idea of marriage following love, instead of the other way round."

  "Aye, your grace." Very noble sentiments, indeed, she thought inwards, and they were almost the same words spoken by Topaz. But coming from Henry, they seemed to have more credibility.

  "I trust you will find a suitable parti, Lady Amethyst. For one thing, your dowry chest must be quite generous."

  She blushed. "Oh, aye, your grace. Thanks to you and your kind benevolences, having given us back...er, giving us Warwick Castle."

  "Aye, your grandfather and father might have been king," he said matter of factly. "But I am King and I must do my best. You see, Lady Amethyst, my father ran the realm a different way than I. He won the crown by fighting. A poor, struggling pretender, he virtually plucked it from the head of Richard's corpse.

  "My father sought to dispel the disorder of his time and selected his councilors for their ability and loyalty instead of military prowess. His was the last reign of his kind, and I plan to be known as the first king of what I like to call modern times. The Dark Ages are over, Amethyst. This is the rebirth...the renaissance, if you will."

  "I am glad, your grace. I would marry a man for love, rather than the union of our lands."

  "And what of your sister?"

  "Oh, Emerald is too young yet to..."

  "Nay, I meant your older sister, Topaz," he said with a shake of her head.

  She was hoping he wouldn't ask. She was hoping he'd forgotten Topaz even existed. "She lives at Kenilworth with her husband Matthew Gilford. She runs an animal hospital and distributes alms to the poor."

  "Ah, yes, Gilford, Duke of Lancaster. His father fought beside mine at Bosworth. Kenilworth and the title were granted to him at that time." Topaz didn't seem to care how her husband's magnificent castle, lands, and title had been attained, as long as there was ample room for her animals.

  "Topaz has a boy, Edward, named after our father."

  "Pray God he won't follow in your father's footsteps," said the King, jokingly.

  Amethyst laughed uncomfortably, for that was still a very touchy subject in her family, and was surprised the King chose to jest about it. Yet that was just one of the things that enchanted her about him, his ability to laugh—at just about anything.

  "I pray for the same, your grace." Oh, God, did she! She prayed God that Topaz was mellowing with the rearing of her son and the running of the castle and the tending of her animals and no longer had any interest in her so-called quest for revenge. "I believe Edward will become a faithful subject, as will my sons and daughters when the Lord sees fit to send me some."

  His eyes colored darkly then, and he said stiffly, "Indeed. Well, my Lady, I must bid you Godspeed for now, for we must prepare for the New Year's festivities on the morrow and the journey back to London thereafter." He stood and, taking her hand in his, pressed his lips to it, releasing it quickly.

  With a slight nod, he turned to leave. She curtsied stiffly, in awe of this entire visit, bursting to tell her mother and Emerald all about it.

  As the King swept out of the room, she touched her hand to her lips, at the very place where he'd kissed her, and she gazed out over the Avon, seeing nothing, just the delicate strains of his music running through her head.

  CHAPTER TEN

  On New Year's Day the entire household gathered in the great hall. With the King's gracious permission, Sabine collected all the servants, from her Maids of Honor to the stable hands, and they were granted the honor of spending a few hours in the King's presence. Sabine had gotten them all gifts, and they were distributed before the King and Queen's arrival.

  When the royal retinue appeared, they personally exchanged gifts with Sabine and the girls. The King had presented them all with necklaces—pear shaped diamonds suspended on gold chains of varying lengths—the longest with the biggest diamond for Sabine, and gradually smaller sizes for the girls. They presented the King with a solid gold replica of the key to Warwick Castle's main gate mounted on a plaque depicting the Warwickshire arms of the bear and ragged staff.

  "This represents our eternal gratitude for granting us this land, your grace," Sabine told the King upon presentation of the key. "Warwick Castle will always be your home as it is ours."

  He gracefully accepted the gift, kissing Sabine's hand.

  The rest of the day passed by in a blur of merrymaking but one moment did stand out in her mind.

  "God willing, we shall meet again, Lady Amethyst," Henry said, as the retinue prepared to depart for London the following day. He took her hand as she curtsied, his bejeweled cloak a sweeping flash of glitter as she dipped down and back up again.

  "I look forward to it, sire." She tried to keep the quiver out of her voice as she spoke. She wanted to say more, but he'd already moved on, for there were many goodbyes to be said, and when the castle emptied of the retinue, her heart plummeted and hit a bottom as hard as the stone floor on which she stood. This brief taste of court life had been her most magnificent experience ever. It was a life she longed for, a life she had tasted once and felt she could never get enough of or tire of. When would she ever get to make such joyful music with such talented people. And when would she ever get to see the King again?

  "So you met Henry then?" Topaz said with a disinterested air as she and Amethyst watched Edward chase a butterfly through Warwick Castle's rose garden. They hadn't seen each other since just before court visited the castle at Christmas.

  Edward was now a spirited, energetic three-year-old, looking like a miniature adult in his blue breeches and doublet, tiny gold buttons marching down his little breast and her heart turned over at how regal and adult his bearing had become in only a few short weeks since she had last seen him.

  "Aye, he was just fascinating. A marvelous dancer, superb musician, so easy to talk to..."

  Topaz stopped in her tracks and pushed a lock of hair off her forehead. "He talked to you?"

  The warm breeze stirred the soft fragrance of roses and Amethyst peered through the cedars to watch Edward rolling in the grass, yanking clover out of the ground, chewing on it and spitting it out.

  "Aye, we had a lovely chat. We even played music together, in the conservatory, just the two of us."


  "How cozy." Topaz caressed the petals of a rose. "What could he possibly have found to talk with you about?"

  "We talked about music mostly. His love for music is even greater than mine. We had a musical afternoon. We harmonized beautifully together."

  "Aye, so I heard the King has been known to harmonize with many ladies, but not necessarily in the musical sense," she sneered.

  "The King's private affairs are none of ours," Amethyst said. "He is a modern man. He told me we should marry for love."

  "Hah! That's a joke! Only because he wishes he will someday."