The Beggar's Throne

by David Francis

  Shortly after the announcements, Edward and Elizabeth left the celebration and retired to the royal quarters. Their outer garments were removed by the servants, who were then dismissed, leaving the royal couple alone for the first time in what seemed to Edward an eternity. Without a word, he took his wife in his arms and reveled in the feel of her body against his. Kissing her, he felt her passion as if it were a separate soul leave her body and enter his. They fell back onto the bed and struggled to remove the final barriers between them, his lips never leaving hers. The union of their bodies, free from worldly hindrances, brought an ecstasy that neither of them could have expected, and their love and youth gave them the stamina to sustain that moment until the early morning light broke through the windows. Only then did sleep take them both.

  *

  The following day, the king and queen prepared for the king’s general audience, servants of the wardrobe bringing in one opulent garment after the other until the royal couple had decided on items that pleased them. Elizabeth was trying to choose jewelry from among dozens of pieces arrayed before her on a velvet shelf, trying on several pieces and then tossing them back and selecting others.

  “Did you see their faces when you elevated my father?” she spoke more to herself than to Edward, her tone more worried than angry. “I fear that we have many enemies in your court, my king.” Edward, having completed his outfit with a large emerald-encrusted gold ring, sat in a plush chair and admired his new queen.

  “Come now, wife. These magnates you fear have been my loyal subjects for five years now, and I trust every one of them.”

  “Surely you can see that the Nevilles have their own best interests in mind, not yours. And now, with an archbishop in their ranks, they have more power than ever, which you can be sure they’ll use without hesitation when it serves them best.”

  “I am aware of my cousins’ power, but their strength is derived from supporting me, and they know it. I’ve given them much largesse and many duties that will keep them feeling important, and as long as that remains true, they will all be happy enough and I will gain the benefits of their military and financial strength, without which I need hardly remind you I would be hard-pressed to maintain my present position.”

  “I am not without eyes, my husband. I know something of the royal court, despite my sex, and I know where our power lies, but you must see that we cannot allow the present situation to continue. Our marriage has caused Warwick to lose face here and especially abroad. In another man this would not be cause for concern, but in Warwick it is a clear danger. You must take steps to protect yourself.”

  “And what, my clear-sighted queen, would you have me do?”

  Elizabeth made her last selection of jewelry and dismissed the servants with a wave of her hand. This was her chance to unfold her plan to the king.

  “We must form other alliances to offset the power of the Nevilles. Between us, we have many unwed brothers and sisters with whom we could forge alliances through marriage. The Earls of Kent, Arundel, and Huntingdon, and the Duke of Buckingham are all young and unwed, and I have an eligible sister for each of them to take as wife. None will refuse if you require that it be so, and think of the resources of all those families at our beck and call should we need them to offset the power of the Nevilles.”

  “Not to mention the added prestige of the Woodville family if your sisters held all of those families captive.”

  Elizabeth was not amused. “I should think that you would be pleased to put an end to the tongue-wagging about how you married beneath yourself. If members of my family are countesses and duchesses, so much the better!”

  Edward knew all too well that his relationship with the Nevilles was precarious at best, and he had long wished that he could depend on others if he needed them. While his brothers would provide that someday, they were still young. If only Edmund were alive, he thought sadly.

  “We had better get to our audience,” he said, rising from his chair. “Your idea has merit, my queen, and I shall consider it with care.”

  “A final thing, my lord. For how long must I endure your mother’s superior looks and hateful disrespect? I am the queen and you must not permit this to continue.” Edward had dared to hope that the topic of his mother’s behavior would not come up, but he knew better.

  “If I know my mother,” he said with a sigh, “we will not see much of her at court.”

  “I hope not. For both of our sakes.”

  As they left the room and their entourage joined them, Elizabeth felt satisfied. There was little doubt in her mind that Edward would do as she suggested. She could be very persuasive if the need arose.

  *

  Henry the Sixth, who forty-two years before had been crowned king of England and France at the tender age of nine months, knelt in a small chapel in Waddington Hall, the home of Sir Richard Tempest, staring at a candle he had just lit. He exhaled loudly and wondered if his wife and son were safe. He had refused to leave his kingdom and was taken instead to the Scottish court, where he stayed for two months. Margaret begged him to go with them to France, but may have been relieved when he refused. It was going to be a struggle to convince the peers of France to lend aid to her cause, but if they saw that Henry was not of sound mind, it would have been impossible. Perhaps Henry knew that.

  But after two months, King James asked Henry to leave Scotland. Relations between the Scots and Edward’s England were improving, and James had decided that to be entertaining the deposed king at his court was no longer politically advantageous. Henry had left as he had arrived, alone and penniless, and he wandered south back into England in anonymity. He had taken shelter and food from monasteries as he wended his way into Yorkshire, and probably would never have been recognized had he continued that way. But the family of Sir Richard Tempest had always been ardent supporters of the Lancastrians — Henry had personally dubbed Sir Richard a knight many years ago. Whether from the need for a friend or the wish to be recognized as something more than a beggar, Henry had knocked on the door of Waddington Hall one night and insisted on seeing the master of the house. Sir Richard, dazed by the absurdity of seeing his former king standing at his door in such an impoverished state, invited him to stay, but hurriedly dismissed all but his most trusted servants until he could gather his wits and determine what to do.

  That was one week past, and now as Henry sat in the chapel, he wondered what God had in mind for him. His fate had been odd indeed, to be a king and a beggar, and he smiled at the realization that he cherished his situation, though he would certainly not wish it on anyone else. It was far better to be a beggar than to have innocent people war with one another over his miserable carcass.

  “Am I disturbing you, my lord?” a voice came from behind.

  Sir Richard stood at the door. A thin man with a tightly trimmed beard and mustache, he always appeared edgy, as if he suspected everyone to be an enemy, and now with the former king in his house he was more nervous than usual.

  “Not in the least, good knight,” said Henry. “Please come and sit for a while.”

  “My lord…” Sir Richard was not sure exactly how to proceed. “My lord, I must know your intentions. You must realize that your presence here endangers my family, and it would go very ill with all of us were it to be discovered that I was harboring a known fugitive.”

  “A known fugitive! And from the king’s justice, no doubt?” The words startled Sir Richard. “But this was a head that sat beneath a crown,” Henry said, encasing his head with both hands. “And the head still thinks, therefore, I think, it still dwells among the quick.” Henry stood and crossed himself before the altar, the meaning of his words lost on his host. He lowered his voice and checked around the room, as if to see if anyone were listening. Frightened, Sir Richard followed his example. “You wish to know my intentions, good knight? I shall tell you directly, and
let there be no dissembling between us, for you have sheltered me from my own people and fed me. I intend to live until my time is called, for truly I have no choice in that matter, and it will be the dust of a beggar that you bury on that day.”

  “Forgive me, my lord,” Sir Richard tried to move away from Henry, who had moved uncomfortably close to his face as he spoke, “but I do not understand these musings. Surely you know that I have done all I can for you, without placing my family in desperate danger?”

  Henry walked back to the altar and knelt. “Indeed I do, brave knight. Tonight I will dine with you and then be gone at first light, if that meets with your liking.” Sir Richard quietly exhaled in relief.

  “It does, my lord.”

  *

  That night after dinner, Henry and Sir Richard’s family sat at the long table within the great room of Waddington Hall. Conversation had been rare that evening as everyone felt the tension. Candles flickered around the room, illuminating the withdrawn faces around the former king, who thought he could see the souls of each shifting with the movement of the light.

  “My lord,” Sir Richard broke the silence, “I have asked my groomsman to accompany you to your next destination, and I’ve selected a horse for your use. I trust it will serve you well.”

  “I am in your debt,” said Henry with a slight bow of his head.

  “Not so, my lord,” said Sir Richard with a defiant look toward his wife. “My duty would permit no less.” A servant entered, obviously frightened.

  “Master, riders approach! They are already at the front gate.” Sir Richard jumped up and mustered his courage. His wife glared as if to say she had warned him.

  “Go, ask their business and report back here.” The servant bowed and left the room. “Ellerton!” he called loudly at the door. In a moment a young man not out of his teens entered breathlessly, still fastening the laces on his shirt. “Get the horses ready, and be quick!” Ellerton bowed and ran from the room.

  “Perhaps my time has come this evening.” Henry mused, not showing the slightest hint of concern.

  “Your time will not come in my house, my lord,” said the knight angrily. Loud voices could be heard from the main door, and after a moment, the servant returned.

  “My lord, a Sir Thomas Talbot demands that you surrender the person of Henry, late calling himself king.” The boy was ashen-faced.

  “We are betrayed!” said Sir Richard’s wife, terrified.

  Five men entered the room without any further announcement. The leader said in a loud voice “Take him!” pointing at Henry. Sir Richard noticed to his horror that one of the men was his brother, John. Before another word could be spoken, John pointed to Henry.

  “You see, Sir Thomas, my brother has held the traitor here until he could be apprehended. I hope you will report us favorably to the king.”

  Sir Richard had to think fast. With a quick look to his wife and then to Henry, who was waiting expectantly for his host’s response with an amused look on his face, Sir Richard confronted the intruders.

  “Thank God you got here in time.”

  Sir Thomas did not believe either man, knowing that the Tempest family had always been friends to the House of Lancaster, but he had instructions only to seize Henry.

  “The king shall hear of your service,” he answered coldly. “Bring the prisoner to the horses.”

  A guard pushed Henry roughly before him. When he moved past Sir Richard, Henry paused. “The king shall indeed remember your service, sir knight.” And with a smile on his face that chilled Sir Richard to the bone, he walked with his captors to the waiting horses without.

  In the passage leading to the rear entrance of Waddington Hall, Ellerton listened to the progress of events in the great hall, angered by the treachery of the Tempest family. Taking care to remain unseen, he quietly made his way out to the back where two horses were saddled and waiting. Taking a moment to consider his next move, he jumped lightly on the nearest mare and spurred the animal toward a narrow path through the woods.

  In the meantime, Sir Thomas and his men placed Henry on a horse and started down the path that led to the south road. One of the guard held the reins of Henry’s horse as he rode alongside. Two of Sir Thomas’ men rode behind the king, one carrying a lighted torch. The rest of the guard rode before the king, one forward rider carrying another torch to light the way. It was a damp and thickly overcast night and the path before them disappeared into a black oblivion, the forward torch illuminating only a few yards ahead. A screech owl rattled the silence, leaving the men apprehensive and jumpy, reacting to every rustle heard from the black woods. The sound of a twig snapping to his left startled the rear torch holder so that he held his light as far to that side as he could. For a fleeting moment he thought he saw the ghostly image of a face watching them from within the trees.

  “Sir Thomas, there is someone… ”

  At that moment, something exploded toward him and knocked the torch from his hands. His horse reared when the flame glanced over its flank, throwing the guard to the ground, where he landed heavily, too dazed to realize what had happened. Before he even recognized the danger, the second of the rear guards was hit in the head by something he never saw and fell from his horse.

  By the time Sir Thomas grabbed the torch from the guard in front and returned to the rear, he saw only the two rear guards on the ground, their horses prancing nervously nearby, and no sign of Henry. From out of the darkness to his left he heard the sound of horses galloping away.

  “This way. Quickly!” He shouted at the remaining two mounted guards. They forged into the woods, but it was not long before they lost any hint of where the former king and his rescuers might have gone. Sir Thomas knew that to roam the woods in the pitch black of the evening was futile.

  “We’ll go back to Waddington and spend the night,” he said reluctantly, “and find the trail again in the morning. Go and fetch those two fools. I have no desire to look upon their incompetent faces again this evening.” The guards left to find their fallen comrades without saying a word, not wanting to anger the knight any further.

  *

  Henry had little notion of what had just happened, but he knew that he was free from the captivity of Sir Thomas and in the hands of someone else who was leading his horse through a dense thicket of low growth. There was nothing to do for the time being but to cover his face against the low branches and wait for his fate to unfold. Some time later, when it was clear even to Henry that there was no longer any pursuit, a voice came from out of the dark.

  “Are you well, my lord?”

  “Who asks?” Henry was still enveloped by darkness and could see nothing.

  “My name is Ellerton, until this evening a servant at Waddington Hall.”

  “I am well. At least, as well as a beggar may expect. May I ask your intentions toward me?”

  “My lord, I wanted only to free you from those men. Having done that, I have no further plans.”

  “I assume then that you do not act on orders from your master?”

  “No, my lord. Though I may hang for it, I could not bear to see such treachery.”

  There was a brief silence in the darkness. “Let me feel your face, Master Ellerton.” The young servant felt along the horse until he found Henry’s hand in the darkness, and let the former king feel his head and face. “It is an honest face, and one that promises only sadness. But that is the cross that I must bear. Help me from this horse, Master Ellerton. We will need to wait until first light to continue, I think you will agree.”

  “I do, my lord.” Helping him from his horse, Ellerton supported Henry for a few steps until they found a tree trunk that would provide a resting place for the evening.

  After securing the horses, Ellerton rejoined Henry. “My lord, what did you mean just now…when you sai
d a face that promises sadness?”

  “Have you not heard, my young savior? I am mad, and given to pronouncements that have no meaning. A beggar in my own kingdom. Do not concern yourself with such rantings, but be assured that events will unfold as God wishes.”

  “Are you really mad, my lord, or do you hide your true self behind this mask?”

  A short hesitation. “My state of mind has proven more formidable to rule than the ship of state. But I am content. Do you wish that you were born a king, my friend? I wish that I had been born a beggar, for then I would take pride in the begging, and the king would be content to let me beg in peace. I would have had the right to protect my soul against the wrongs of the world, and gladly shoulder the responsibility for so doing. But I was born a king and therefore I’m mad, that being the only way I could keep from selling my soul.”

  Ellerton thought for a moment before responding.

  “Then, for your sake, my lord, I am glad that I was born a lowly servant.”

  Henry reached through the dark, found the boy’s hand, and squeezed it. “I swear that your sacrifice will not be in vain.”

  Ellerton did not know of what sacrifice poor Henry was referring, but at that moment, he was certain that he had made the right choice and was at peace with himself.

  They did not speak again, and rested until the first light of the new day broke. Ellerton, who was well acquainted with these woods, thought it best to bring Henry to an abbey that was isolated enough for their purposes, not more than four hours distant. They would surely grant two beggars a place to stay for at least a few days. Ellerton knew all of the trails, knowledge that had served him well the night before when he took a shortcut to catch Sir Thomas’ party and then escaped along a narrow path that could be discerned even in daylight only by one who knew of its existence.