The Devil in Ermine

by Martyn, Isolde

  ‘It’s going very smoothly, Jock, except for them.’ I jerked my chin at the growing crowd of intruders. There must have been already about two hundred of them cramming the entrance to Westminster Hall. ‘Do you think some men-at-arms will do the trick or are we likely to have a riot? It will ruin it for him if anyone gets killed.’

  The new Earl Marshall stuck out his lower lip thoughtfully then he chuckled. ‘Wait on. I’ll deal with ’em. I’ll be back in a few minutes.’

  Few minutes? Ha! The weary servants were starting to get mighty angry, beseeching me to order the pikemen in. Like the damned in hell, the crowd was writhing and pushing forward, snatching the fresh baked bread from the nearest tables. Out of patience, I summoned in the soldiers and while I was instructing them, a shout from the steward made us turn.

  ‘Oh God in Heaven!’

  Howard’s great war horse was draped from mane to hoof in cloth of gold and he loomed above it, a supernatural being in gold and scarlet, like a vision from another world. Visor down, he rode his horse down the steps and straight at the intruders. Instantly, the squirming mass ceased its gyration and gasped with one voice. In ducal tones, he commanded them to leave, and rode back and forth along forcing them back. His destrier caught the jest of it, delicately planting its hooves to miss the wretches’ feet by a seed’s length and as the rabble frayed away so the soldiers were able to push the great doors closed at last.

  I was convulsed with laughter. Howard’s antics had driven away my devil too. ‘There you are, Harry, we shall not have to hold our noses while we eat.’

  ‘I’m not so sure,’ I spluttered, pointing to the fresh manure splashed across the flagstones.

  THE BANQUET began miraculously on time on mopped flagstones (although there could have been some lost lice and fleas hopping around the great doors). Blanc Sanglier reappeared as though magicked to supervise the fanfares, and a grinning king sat down beneath the purple canopy of estate held high by his henchmen. He was now clothed in purple as befitted his rank, brocade threaded with gold and stitched with white roses and the garter insignia. Anne had given the robe to him as a coronation gift and it almost cost the eyesight of the Tailors’ Guild. Lovell and several chosen noblemen served their liege lord and lady from platters of gold. Thank heaven, I was not expected to play the page and kneel. That would have brought back ugly memories of serving Elizabeth.

  Mind, being seated between my Uncle of Canterbury and my lady of Suffolk as they argued over what made the perfect latrine was not my idea of celebration. Certainly, I was as tired as an ass that had been roped to a treadmill all week but my demons would not let me be. Now that it was almost over, I felt as though the heel of God had pressed me flat. If only Meg had been waiting in my bedchamber. In her arms I might find oblivion. I longed to clasp her sweet body against mine again, bury my face in the perfume of her hair and forget the cursed world.

  Applause broke around me. The King’s Champion, Sir Robert Dymoke, beautiful in snow-white armour, rode up to the dais on a charger caparisoned in red and white silken harness, and rasped out his challenge to anyone who doubted Gloucester’s claim.

  I watched Margaret Beaufort’s lips tighten. Challenge? Yes, Richard, what are you going to do about Henry Tudor? About your nephews? A cup was proffered to Dymoke. He took one gulp and dashed its contents on the rushes, claiming the vessel as his fee.

  We sat through fire-eaters, tumblers, dancers, a play by Norfolk’s troupe, songs from the royal chapel choir and last but not least a cursed bagpiper. I groaned inwardly and met my liege lord’s grin. It was a relief to rise from the table and not hard to infiltrate the circle of conversation where Margaret Beaufort stood as they cleared the trestles away.

  ‘Are you returning to Woking at the end of the week, Aunt?’

  She gave me her why-should-that-matter look, but answered civilly: ‘No, I shall be staying in London a little longer. Stanley, as you know, is to accompany the King on his northern progress.’ Yes, I knew King Richard was not going to let Thomas Stanley out of his sight in a hurry. ‘I gather you are not going a-junketing?’ she added.

  I spread my hands apologetically. ‘I have so many responsibilities in Wales now.’ Perish the thought of returning to Brecknock! It was amusing that just the mention of Wales riled her. The Tudors considered it theirs.

  ‘What a shame,’ she replied insincerely. ‘Still, I suppose it would be a waste of time you going north with him. They won’t be interested in you in York, will they?’

  We were on the periphery of the cluster surrounding one of the Castilian diplomats and everyone was too interested in his exotic tales to listen to us.

  ‘You are unkind, Aunt.’ I whispered. ‘I cannot understand why you dislike me so. I never put a frog in your bed, did I?’ She shrugged. ‘And here am I with a genuine admiration for you and Jasper Tudor, keeping the flame of hope flickering for Lancaster these past twelve years. It shows not only tenacity and determination but patience, a virtue which you possess in abundance, though it flowed thinly this morning.’

  ‘You know I write to my son,’ she muttered crossly. ‘All the world knows it. I suppose you read every letter.’

  ‘Only the innocuous ones you deliberately allow to fall into our hands. “Dearest Son, I wish you were here. How is the weather in Brittany?”’ I watched her suck in her cheeks again. ‘Tell me, Aunt, what price would you pay to have your son here? Is it worth a throne?'

  ‘I do not understand what you mean.’

  ‘A purely academic question which I should not like to be misconstrued.’ She was not insensible of a few curious glances in our direction and forced her gaze into pleasanter creases. I lifted her hand from my arm. ‘Give it some thought.’

  I moved along the tables, shaking a hand here and there until I reached Uncle Knyvett and Limerick.

  ‘The lads reported some tavern talk today that might spoil your indigestion, Harry. Do you want to hear it?’

  ‘Certainly.’ I shrugged and sat down. ‘Spew it out then.’

  ‘They are saying you have made Gloucester king so that you may later brand him usurper and tyrant and take the crown yourself. How about that one?’

  ‘Pah, and if he is a usurper, how can I take the crown while the princes live?’

  Uncle Knyvett nodded. ‘Aye, Harry, but the whisper is that they will not live long. I warned you it was not kind.’

  I shrugged. ‘But he is king legally, uncle. It is Parliament who has put the boys aside.’

  ‘All I’m saying is watch your back, lad, and you don’t want to be all charm with her ladyship Beaufort, neither. What if King Richard were to start believing the gossip?’

  ‘Yes, understood.’ I patted his arm in thanks. ‘She’s probably behind the slander. Or else Elizabeth is still meddling.’ A royal page bowed before me. ‘Looks as though I am wanted.’

  I went up the steps wearily to where Richard and Anne were talking with the Suffolks.

  ‘My lord of Buckingham.’ Richard raised me from my obeisance, thanking me again for all that I had done, and embraced me. ‘I wanted to tell you that I have decided to make your henchman, Sir William Knyvett, Constable of Castle Rising, if you are in agreement.’

  ‘That is very generous of you, your highness.’ But why was my cousin grinning so broadly?

  ‘We also have something for you that we are sure will please you better than any other gift.’ He handed me a document, tightly rolled and wrapped by a ribbon of scarlet, its wax heavy with the imprint of the Great Seal. ‘It will be official when Parliament confirms it next week.’

  I unrolled the parchment and almost wept. Richard had given me the Bohun inheritance, the lands that had been withheld from me since 1471. To him it meant a loss of royal income and a show of trust; to me it was my lawful inheritance and it added some fifty manors to my possessions.

  ‘And furthermore,’ laughed my cousin, ‘to show the world how much love and trust I have in you, you are to receive the offices of High Const
able and Great Chamberlain of England.’

  It took my breath away and I dropped to my knees speechless and overcome with shame. There I had been listening to Satan, and here Richard was being generous, trusting me, when I could not trust myself. I felt torn in two. No man had given me so much. No human being had ever shown so much unquestioning faith in me. God have mercy! All the deep laid plans, the childhood dreams, the stolen imaginings, the alternative within alternatives. But then…

  I read no pleasure in his northern friends’ faces and as I kissed Anne’s cheek, I glimpsed Catesby and Ratcliffe watching me with contempt as though they found my courtesy and splendour risible. The former said something and Ratcliffe, looking straight at me, laughed. Despite the fact that I outranked them in every way, despite all I had done, they still found me something to laugh at.

  Later when my expensive robes were chested and my coronet coffered, I stood alone at my bedchamber window looking across the moon-silvered rooftops. You beloved fool, Gloucester, I whispered, directing my thoughts to Westminster. You have made it too easy. You have created in me the most powerful subject that any English king has ever had.

  The greater the trust, the greater the betrayal.

  CHAPTER 11

  ‘I am making plans for the government of the south while I am away. Are you still resolved to return to Wales, Harry?’

  I was standing with the King in the Great Chamber at Westminster staring uncomfortably at the image of Fidelity painted on the window jamb. He had decided to be away until October. The court would go by river to Windsor and then trundle in a royal progress up the spine of England, with some excessive crown-wearing and flourishes when they reached York. No one with any sense lingered in London in August, the month when the risk of pestilence was greatest.

  ‘It does nothing but rain in Wales,’ I answered gloomily.

  ‘But you are Justiciar of Wales,’ he pointed out, selecting a peach from a silver platter – there were a few valuables Elizabeth had missed.

  I made a face, grinned, and helped myself to a Spanish apple. ‘Yes, but you don’t get these in Brecknock.’

  The royal fingers aimed the peach stone at the upper window light. It missed and Loyaulté loped over hopefully. ‘I shall leave Russell in charge of the Royal Council and if there is any problem, he can send for Howard. You can control the west and he the east and if the Woodvilles try anything, they should be easily crushed by the pair of you.’

  I made a pile of the orange peel on the sill. ‘What are you going to do about the Lords Bastard?’ I meant the princes.

  Richard’s frown of displeasure snapped down like a visor. ‘What do you mean, do ?’ He glanced about us as though we were talking treason. On the other side of the chamber, two minstrels were playing for Queen Anne and her ladies and no one was watching us.

  I spread my hands innocently. ‘My liege, I am High Constable and all the prisoners in the Tower are my responsibility. What do you imagine I meant?’

  ‘No matter. I am just racked with guilt still.’ His fingers played with the ring on the little finger of his right hand, a habit that was growing. ‘They are on my conscience the whole time, poor children. I can never set them free, can I?’

  ‘No, and they are causing a lot of interest, more than the Royal Menagerie, I can tell you. If you want my advice, I should take them up to Middleham or Sheriff Hutton, wherever your northerners can keep them safe.’

  He relaxed visibly. ‘Much my thoughts also. I do not want to keep them caged so tightly, and up there they’d be freer. Young Ned is not speaking to me, of course. He may be difficult on the journey.’

  ‘But there is no reason to keep him by you. Have them modestly attired and kept in one of the wagons when you leave London, ah, and I shouldn’t make it known you are taking them. If Elizabeth thinks they’re still secure in the Tower, she will be a while planning another rescue. Keep it a close secret, hmm?’

  He nodded. ‘Good advice, Harry.’

  I folded my arms and leaned against the embrasure. ‘I have another suggestion to make with your royal grace’s permission.’

  ‘No ceremony, cousin, speak your mind.’

  ‘Wily old Morton is renowned for escaping. He has managed to slither out of the Tower before and I'll wager he’ll try it again while you are away. Let me send him to Brecknock. The keep is strong enough and I'll watch him like a December greybeard would a May wife.’

  Richard pulled a face: ‘Hmm, a tad too close to some of the Tudors’ Welsh cronies for my appetite. Though you are right, he’d be safer in your keeping. The University of Oxford has sent me a petition begging me to set the old snake free so Brecknock would be a good compromise. That’s settled then, you take Morton and I'll take Stanley.’

  ‘What rapture!’ I put on a Cheshire dialect, mimicking Stanley’s round-shouldered stoop and the King gave a right royal groan.

  ‘You know, what that arse really wants is northern Wales,’ I pointed out, ‘and I’m in his way.’

  ‘And you are going to stay in his way, Harry. The only reason I’m being lenient to the old weathervane is because his plaguey kinsmen can whistle up a fair size army. Look, how about I dangle some of Rivers’ lands in front of him?’ He teased Loyaulté with an oatcake. ‘That might keep the growser happy.’

  I watched the dog demolish the cake in an instant. ‘Ratcliffe seems to think Lady Margaret’s increased her letter writing of a sudden.’

  ‘So I am informed. All the more reason to keep Stanley by me. There, that’s all our enemies dealt with except dear Elizabeth, but she can’t do anything while I've got the boys. London should be safe enough.’

  ‘Quite so,’ I took up my gloves and riding crop. ‘I'll not delay you further now. With your leave, I am off to the Steelyard. I am thinking of investing in a couple of trading ventures.’

  ‘Excellent!’ He walked with me to the door. ‘You shall still go and see Catesby at the Exchequer tomorrow? I want you to understand the wheels and levers. God forbid I die before my son’s a grown man, but if I do, you will be Lord Protector.’

  ‘Perish the thought,’ I answered fervently, bowing over his hand.

  ‘One thing more. Anne and I wish you to ride with us part of the way to York. Say you will.’

  ‘I wish I could,’ I protested, ‘but I have so many responsibilities now that if I wore all my chains of office at once, I think the floor would give way.’

  He chuckled. ‘You must come. Holy Paul, with all Anne’s chariots, we’ll be crawling along like a row of tortoises. Join us at Oxford and ride with us to Gloucester then you can hie off to Wales.’

  I carried his hand to my lips. ‘Make it a command, Richard, and then I cannot refuse.’

  His face saddened, ‘Don’t put it like that, Harry.’

  THE King’s comment about Margaret Beaufort made me wonder if I had greatly underestimated her. The rumours that I had not planted, were they all from her?

  Two days later, I cornered Ratcliffe in the palace guard room. He was as helpful as a beggar with his tongue cut out but when I pulled rank as High Constable, he muttered that the bitch was as closely watched as a harem of lovely slavegirls and would my royal grace mind my own business and leave him to do his job. Closely watched, was she? It seemed that if I wanted to hold another conversation with Aunt Margaret without Ratcliffe rearing up like an adder, it had to be with Richard’s full permission and before he left London.

  I found him sprawled under a tree beside the combat yard watching Lovell being playfully slaughtered by Tyrrell. It was one of those sticky days that makes your hose cling and your armpits sweat, and Richard was in a sleeveless cote. He was leaning on his elbow, one hand idly caressing Loyaulté.

  ‘Watch your left, Francis!’ he shouted, suddenly sitting up and then groaned as Lovell failed to take advantage of his advice. I cleared my throat and he glanced round. The dog padded over to lick my hand.

  ‘Harry! I thought you were inspecting the garrison at the Tower thi
s afternoon.'

  ‘I decided that could wait. I would appreciate a private word if your highness pleases.’ I took off my hat and used it as a fan.

  ‘Say on!’ he ordered, gesturing to his attendants to fall back, but his eyes still closely followed the swordplay.

  I dropped down on my haunches beside him. ‘I have been thinking about your northern progress and who would be the greatest threat to you while you are gone.’

  My cousin looked at me squarely. He was obviously not in the mood for such serious matters but he was too courteous a man to make light of my concern. ‘The Woodvilles, of course, and a few of the southerners who were enjoying the trough too long and resent my friends taking their offices.’

  ‘Well, that is all true but I believe that we ought to lure Henry Tudor and his uncle home. While they are still at liberty your Lancaster enemies still have a focus for rebellion but if they were out of the way, then their sympathizers would have to come to terms.’

  ‘Do you truly imagine Tudor is a threat?’ His smile chided me gently, then he sighed and returned his attention to the combatants, running a hand over his chin thoughtfully. ‘I was considering reopening negotiations to ransom him from Brittany early next year.’

  ‘That did not work when your brother tried it and it is far too costly. Give me your permission to try my persuasive powers on Lady Margaret.’

  His mouth twitched with humour. ‘And what riches am I supposed to unearth from my empty coffers to entice the Welsh braggart home, pray?’ He groaned as Lovell missed another opportunity to break through Tyrrell’s defence.

  I pulled a face. ‘Confirmation of the earldom of Richmond and your lovechild, Katherine in marriage.’ That winded him. He lost all interest in the combat.