“You saw how he rejected my request for marriage without discussing it with me. The queen bears no love for me, and it was surely her envenomed advice that has ruled the king. The same fate awaits you all if we do not act now.”
“And what would you have us do?” The archbishop was clearly testing the young duke. Clarence hesitated, looking back and forth between the Neville brothers.
“I…have no plan, but you have my pledge that you can count on me, whatever is decided.” There was a moment of tight silence, then Warwick clapped him on the back.
“Perhaps the wrong brother of York sits on the throne. Come, we will talk more on these matters.”
“Richard,” Northumberland took Warwick’s arm as he turned toward his horse. “I warn you that a move against the king would be foolhardy. He is popular and has treated us well, and this talk is treasonous on its face.”
Warwick regarded him sternly. “No one said anything about moving against the king, my brother.”
“I know you better than that, Richard. We have fought many battles together and I have no wish to oppose you, but be warned, I will not be part of any conspiracy against the king.”
“Nor would I want to see you on the wrong end of my sword, John,” smiled Richard. Then he said, more sternly, “But I cannot stand by and do nothing while our honor is impugned and the realm is led astray by the upstart Woodvilles. We put the House of York on the throne to save our country from poor government, and now we see that the same mistakes are being made again. Our course must be corrected before it’s too late. Can’t you see that?”
“I see only that your pride is injured, Richard, and you have allowed that to poison your mind. And as for you,” he said to Clarence as he mounted his horse, “the time has come for you to learn the meaning of honor.” Without another word, he spurred his horse and left them where they stood. After a moment’s thought, Warwick slapped the duke on the back again.
“Pay him no mind, Your Grace. He has become complacent and too satisfied. It remains to us who have the courage of our convictions to risk the present for the future of our kingdom.” Not sure if he had convinced the young duke, he added, “And remember, my daughter will be yours if we succeed.” Clarence smiled and nervously nodded his head. “Good, then we understand each other.” Warwick had regained his mood.
“Without John our course will be more arduous, Richard. You must at least convince him to remain away from court for a while.” The archbishop could not hide his concern.
“I will see to John, you needn’t be concerned. He will not oppose me.”
I wish I could be sure, thought the archbishop.
CHAPTER XX
“What is this town?” asked Oliver.
“I believe it’s Lincoln,” answered Samuel. “I remember hearing about its walls.”
They had been following Sir Hugh’s trail for two weeks now and had reason to believe that they were drawing closer.
“Have you thought about what we’ll do when we catch them?” asked Oliver.
“Whatever presents itself, I suppose.”
“Just as I feared,” Oliver said glumly. “I can’t help remembering what happened at Richmond.” The thought of that terror-filled morning discouraged him greatly.
“It was different then,” Samuel offered. “We were outlaws and running from our own shadows. Now I wear the king’s colors and I won’t allow him to escape justice.”
“But we’re still commoners and he a knight of the realm. The townsfolk will side with him, not us. We cannot confront him openly.”
Samuel ran his hands along the string of his bow, gaining courage from the feel of it.
“I have no intention of openly confronting him, but I won’t hide in the hedges again either. We will know when we’ve found him before he knows that we follow, and if we’re not careless, Sir Hugh will dine with his master in Hell that very night.”
Oliver heard the hate in his friend’s voice and did not like it.
“We must remember that we’re here for the women, not revenge.”
Samuel stiffened in anger, but Oliver’s gentle demeanor disarmed him in an instant. He thought about Sally and Kate in the hands of that demented knight, and nothing else mattered except getting them back. Looking at the town in the distance, he sighed heavily.
“You’re right, as usual, old friend,” he said, and took his quiver and bow from his back, loosening the ties to his tunic. Slipping the king’s colors over his head, he wrapped everything together and put the bundle under his arm. “It’s best we enter town like the peasants we are,” he said with a smile. “I’ll hide this bundle somewhere near the walls before we enter the gates.”
Oliver nodded in agreement and they started down the road. The day was approaching late afternoon and a gentle summer breeze wafted the pungent odors from Lincoln.
“You seem to have adjusted well to your new life,” said Samuel.
Oliver stomped his feet to clear the dust that had gathered from the road.
“I suppose so, but I never before felt so helpless as I do now. I keep thinking that I’ve failed our family and that I should have done something to prevent this.”
“It is you who has been the truest member of the family, my friend. My brother left his responsibilities on your shoulders to follow his own misguided sense of honor, and I sent my troubles to you and made you pay a very dear price. And you had your own troubles to overcome.”
“I have learned to live with my scars, if that’s what you mean, but only because once a gentle young man wearing an enemy’s colors gave me the strength of his own heart when I had none of my own.”
Samuel smiled. “It seems we are doomed to roam the roads of the kingdom together in hopeless quests to find peace.”
“We still have hope, Samuel, even when events have led us down these dangerous roads.” He saw that the town gate was looming ever closer, and he could make out people entering and leaving on their everyday chores. “Tell me, why did you stay away from your family for so long when it’s plain even to you that they are the peace that you seek? Is it possible that you would allow this feud with Christopher to rob you of so much?”
“I had good reason,” he answered tersely. “And besides, it should be plain to you that there was no place for me at the mill. I just couldn’t bear… ” After a short silence, Oliver continued for him.
“You thought everyone blamed you for your father’s death.”
“I know that they do.” Samuel nodded painfully. Oliver took his arm and pulled him around.
“If that’s what you think, then you take a fool’s burden on yourself.” Samuel hurried down the road, but Oliver kept close on his heels. “For God’s sake, Samuel, can’t you see that you’re punishing your family for something they haven’t done?”
“What about Christopher? The mill is his by right, and I have no place there.”
“Is that what this is all about?” Oliver was incredulous. “You’re jealous of Christopher?”
“I’m not jealous, damn you. He has a right to his inheritance without my interference, and I must be content with my fate as a servant. That’s what my father ordained for me, and what I must accept. For a short time I thought that I could change my fate, that maybe Kate and I could find a normal life together. But God has shown me the folly of that hope.” He was on the verge of tears, but forced himself to go on. “Every decision I’ve made that might have led me down a different path has led to disaster, and I can’t continue to bring misery to them, even if it means never finding the peace that I seek.”
“Samuel, please…” but Samuel pulled away and quickened his pace toward town.
*
At that moment, Christopher and Simon Johnson walked together in a long column of men. They did not know where they were
, having marched, mostly at night, for the better part of a fortnight, but they had surely reached the Midlands, much further south than he had ever been before. And Christopher was not pleased.
“What in the Lord’s name are we doing in this place?” he asked Simon in a low voice. “I joined this troop to fight for the rights of the Percys, but we’ve been headed south for weeks. And who are those new men?” He indicated the well-armed footsoldiers marching in the front of the column.
“I told you when you joined, it’s not good to ask questions.” Simon looked around nervously to see if anyone was too close. “Robin will tell you what we need to know, and everything else is none of our business.”
Christopher was growing tired of hearing those words. “I don’t see why we can’t be told where we’re going. And I tell you, those new men look like professional soldiers to me. What would such men want with us, and why would they be under the command of an outlaw like Robin instead of some nobleman?”
“I don’t know, and keep your bloody voice down.” Simon could see that he was not going to be able to shut Christopher up. “I wondered the same thing myself, but I just can’t figure it. They wear no colors, but it’s sure that they were supplied by someone of means. And Robin hasn’t spoken with anyone, except to give a few orders. It’s all very odd, I can tell you that.”
There was some disturbance at the front of the column and the mysterious fighting men began to break ranks. The word finally came down that they were to make camp. They had come upon a broad valley that was drained by a shallow, meandering stream, bordered by thick willows. Just off the road before them was a small group of cottages, not enough to even qualify as a village. Several had clearly been abandoned and were in such disrepair that Christopher wondered what kept them from collapsing. Behind the handful of cottages that were still occupied, several vegetable gardens were just beginning to bear fruit, and beyond the gardens were a few virgates of cultivated land. Christopher guessed that the yield would barely support the residents through the winter.
The soldiers began to spread out over the valley, staking out a comfortable place to spend the evening. Those responsible for feeding the men began to round up the meager livestock that sustained the farmers, including several pigs and a large number of chickens. And while the farmers and their families stood by in silence, the gardens were stripped clean of anything edible. Without their stock, they knew, they were likely to end their days as beggars in some nearby town or monastery. One farmer ran from his field when the column arrived and, in a last attempt to save his pigs, yelled at a soldier.
“These fields are the king’s own demesne.”
“All’s the better.” The soldier shoved him aside. “He’ll find himself the poorer for it.”
At least these mystery soldiers were Lancastrian sympathizers, and no friends of the king. But the plight of these farmers made Christopher’s heart ache. In the faces of these people who had spent their lives scratching subsistence from these lands, he saw his own family and friends.
Simon led him away. They found a place by the stream that was partially protected from the sun by a stand of willows, and Christopher was pleased to finally get off his feet. Removing his shoes and kneading his feet, he allowed himself to relax to the sound of the water trickling past. For once he would not think of Emma and the children.
*
Samuel and Oliver arrived at a suitable inn in Lincoln at dusk and decided to get their first full night’s sleep since leaving York. It was really not a conscious decision, since they would rather have begun making inquiries that very evening, but upon dropping their packs, exhaustion had overcome them both.
The morning brought a steady drizzle that continued for the entire day and made their search all the more unpleasant.
“I think we should separate,” said Oliver.
Samuel frowned. “What if we find them? We’ll need each other.”
“Perhaps, but it would be preferable for one rather than both of us to be caught.”
“All right then, you stay out of sight and I’ll start asking questions.”
“You’re the one who should stay out of sight. Being the soldier, you would stand a better chance of coming to my rescue than the other way around.”
“I have great faith in your abilities.”
“This is no time to be selfish, Samuel. You know that I’m right and for the sake of the women, stop this. Stay secluded and keep a watch on me.”
“Where will you look?”
Oliver pointed toward the main gate where they had first entered town.
“I’ll start there and work directly down the street. We’ll check every inn and alehouse.”
“Be careful, Oliver. For both our sakes.” Oliver nodded and headed down the road. As the day went on, Samuel stood in the rain following Oliver from place to place. Sometimes someone would remember seeing the people they sought, but had no idea where they had gone. One tip had brought them to a smith who had changed the shoe of a horse belonging to a man clearly fitting Sir Hugh’s description, but he had not known where Sir Hugh and his party went after they left. They had managed to cover their tracks, and Samuel could feel Oliver’s growing disappointment as the day faded into dusk.
Turning down a side street lined with inns, Oliver wondered how many more such lodging places they would have to search in this market town, where many country folk came to trade their wares. He entered a small alehouse. There were only a handful of tables with three of them occupied. Oliver came up to the man that was serving them, presuming him to be the owner.
“I seek two men, one with a long scar on his face, perhaps in the company of two women. Can you help me?” The owner glanced at him for a second and continued waiting on tables.
“Do I look like one who takes note of who comes and goes? Anyone who fairly pays for food and drink is welcome here, and I give them their privacy. If you’d like to sit and eat, I’ll do the same for you.” Oliver had found another dead end, and had not really expected anything else. He was headed for the door when he saw a dirty man with large bags under his eyes motioning for him to come over. Oliver walked carefully over to his table.
“Sit down. I may be able to help you.” The man’s ingratiating smile revealing that he had only a few teeth left in his mouth. “Come, do you want information or not?”
“Have you seen the man with the scar?”
“I have indeed. It’s not easy to forget that face, is it?” Despite himself, Oliver shook as the vision came to mind. “No, I see you agree,” the man smiled again. “If I were to find him for you, what could you do for me?”
“What is it that you wish? I have very little of value.”
The man leaned back and took a pull from his wooden mug. “Tell me, what is your business with that whore’s son?”
“That’s for me to know, and I intend to keep it that way.”
“I can understand that. But I’ve seen death in a man’s eyes before, and I see it in yours right now, so I’ll wager my last penny that you hope to cut his life short.”
“You would lose that penny.”
“Maybe I would,” the man mused almost to himself, “but it would be payment enough for me to see harm come to him. So I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll check with a few of my friends tonight, and if you come to the house behind the King’s Bridge bakery at first light, I’ll tell you what I’ve found.”
“You say that you want harm to come to the man with the scar. Why?”
“That would be my business, wouldn’t it? And, like you, I expect I’ll keep it that way.” Oliver nodded and stood.
“Then we’ll speak tomorrow.” The man smiled and gave a slight bow of his head. Oliver turned and left. He guessed that Samuel was watching from somewhere, so he made straight toward their inn at the other end of to
wn. Whatever else he had accomplished that day, he was sure that the dirty man in the alehouse had personal knowledge of Sir Hugh. Samuel entered shortly after Oliver arrived.
“What happened?” he asked.
Oliver told him of his encounter and of the appointment at King’s Bridge. Samuel thought about it for a while.
“It should hardly surprise us that someone else would have a quarrel with Sir Hugh.”
“Not ordinarily, but this seems a little coincidental to me.” He rubbed nervously at a protruding ear.
“I agree, but we can’t let this lead get away from us, can we? If the women are in this town, it may be our last chance to save them.”
“What will you do?”
Samuel thought for a moment. “Hopefully, no one knows you have a partner, and we should make sure it stays that way. Tonight, I’ll go to King’s Bridge and see what’s there. If it’s a place that we can use to our advantage, I’ll try to devise something before first light. Tomorrow, on your way there, stop outside the Three Lions Tavern, and I’ll get a message to you.” He began gathering his things.
“Samuel,” Oliver called him back as he was about to open the door. “If we don’t see each other again… ”
Samuel smiled at his friend. “At the Three Lions tomorrow.” And he was gone.
At that very moment, in another part of town, the man who had spoken with Oliver entered a dimly lit room, where he found his master in a dark corner. The dirty man closed the door behind him.
“Someone is looking for you, my lord.”
*
“Will she never deliver?” Edward could not hide his agitation.
“At times I think that women deliberately drag the process out to keep us in their power for as long as possible,” answered Hastings. “But we cannot wait much longer, Sire. The latest intelligence puts the rebels somewhere near Leicester.” Edward nodded.
“Where are our friends?”
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