The Beggar's Throne

by David Francis

  “Emma…,” he said, lost for further words.

  She rushed to his arms and they embraced until Christopher had to sit. She led him to the table and found the basin of water that she kept by the hearth. Filling a wooden bowl, she handed it to her husband, who drank deeply as if he had not tasted any in days. It seemed to give him strength, and Emma filled the bowl again. They sat together at the small wooden table and said nothing, until Christopher made to speak. But before he could say anything Emma put her fingers on his lips.

  “What could you say to me, husband? Perhaps it is best that you let me assume the best and leave it at that, for my heart is damaged and I fear…that there may be no way to heal the hurt.”

  Her words, spoken with such difficulty, wounded Christopher more deeply than any sword could have. He hung his head, unable to look at his wife. But he knew for certain that if the healing did not begin at that moment, it never would.

  “I know now what a fool I’ve been, but I cannot change what has passed. I wanted only to make a difference…to do something to make things right.”

  “And what of your family? What of the difference that you made here?” She tried to keep herself from dissolving into anger.

  “I know. I had to learn the hard way.” He was consumed by the weight of remorse. “I came back only to see if I learned in time.”

  “Those are still your children in there, and your nephew who can only pretend to be brave while he prays for the safe return of his parents some day.”

  “Safe return? Safe return from where?”

  “My God, you don’t know.”

  “Know what?”

  “The devil who took your father from Northwood took Sally and Kate. He came right here and took them both.” She had replayed the horror in her own mind so often that she could retell the story without breaking down. Christopher was not so well shielded.

  “Sir Hugh? God’s angels help them.” He buried his face in his hands.

  “Samuel and Oliver went after them, but I’ve heard nothing for months, and I fear the worst.”

  “Samuel? He was here?”

  “He came to get Kate, but was too late. Surely you knew that he would come after her sooner or later?”

  The weight he’d been feeling before was now a millstone that had fallen on him.

  “How in God’s name did you manage by yourself?”

  The memory of the past months made her tired just to think of them, but she straightened her back.

  “By doing what had to be done. I took on an apprentice to help with the mill, and the children helped where they could. We found ways to survive.”

  Christopher stood and walked to the linen behind which Alice slept. Pulling it slightly aside, he peered in on her, barely able to see her through the darkness. He listened for her gentle breathing as he had those days when she was so ill, right before he had deserted his family.

  “What have I done?” he murmured softly to himself. Then returning to Emma, he said, “I cannot change what has passed, but my course is clear to me at last, if you’ll have me.”

  “Have you been away so long that you do not already know the answer?” she said.

  “Yes, perhaps I have,” he answered pensively. “But at least this much you have gained: to know that I will never leave you again, though the devil himself calls for me.”

  Emma knew her husband well enough to know that he would rather die than break the pledge he made, and it was the only thing he could have said that would have made a difference.

  *

  The people of London were only too pleased to open their gates and welcome King Edward back. The city had been racked by disorder and violence since Warwick’s revolt. The sheer magnitude of the unrest had been more than the civil authorities could control, and the strong hand of a king was needed. Once news spread that the king was again free and supported by the Duke of Gloucester, whose army had chased the Earl of Warwick from the kingdom, Edward had no problem raising support from among the nobility. John Neville, the Earl of Northumberland, had even come to him with fresh troops, demonstrating at last to whom he was loyal.

  On his way to Westminster Palace, Edward first stopped at the abbey and collected the queen and her family, who had taken refuge within the sanctuary. He had gathered several thousand men-at-arms to accompany him as he rode toward the city, and now they had been posted around the city to bring order.

  Edward hastily called for a meeting of the Privy Council, and as he sat before them, he wondered if he could trust any of them. But he knew that if he couldn’t, his throne was doomed anyway. With him were his brother Gloucester, Northumberland, Hastings, Lord Scales — who was now Earl Rivers upon the death of his father — Nigel of Devon, and Sir Julian.

  “Lord Hastings,” Edward said, his manner still confident, “send quickly to our garrison in Calais that the traitor Warwick shall not be admitted upon pain of death. I’ll not have him given comfort on English soil.”

  “It shall be done, Sire,” Hastings said forcefully. He could see that Edward was not the same young man to whom he had been a companion for so many years. The easy smile and warmth were gone.

  “Rivers, to you we entrust the safety of London. Take what men you need from our troops and see to it that the city is secure.” Rivers bowed his head in acknowledgment. “Come and receive our dearest thanks, our brother of Gloucester, for you have given us hope for the future, and have incurred a debt of us that can never be repaid.” Gloucester embraced him. “With loyalty such as yours in the face of such dishonor, we may always know security. Your rewards will be commensurate, you may be assured.”

  “My reward is to see Your Highness safe from his enemies and to be the scourge of those who would oppose your Holy claim.”

  “And you always shall be, we know it. For now, be content with all those titles and lands that before this day belonged to your false brother, Clarence, for never again will he stand in our good graces.” The lords in the room looked at each other with surprise. The gift of Clarence’s lands and titles was an immense one, and would make the young duke certainly one of wealthiest men in the realm. Most assumed that Edward would keep the wealth from those lands to help pay off some of his many debts. Turning his attention to Nigel, Edward said, “Nigel of Devon, approach and receive our thanks as well. Be it known by all those present and by our pronouncements hereafter that we create Nigel of Devon a knight of the realm. Rise, Sir Nigel, and accept our loving embrace.”

  It was an honor that Nigel had not expected, and for which he was extremely grateful. But he had risked everything supporting this king in the face of great danger, and knew that he had earned this new title.

  “When our time serves us better, we will make due note of all those who have helped us in these trying times of treason and thank all who have deserved our love. For now, we must look to those who need us. So please you all to attend us here again when we have further news of our dangerous cousin of Warwick. Lord Hastings, we have further need of your counsel.” Edward stood and left with Hastings close on his heels. Sir Julian and Nigel waited until they were alone.

  “I have never known a knighthood more deserved, Sir Nigel. May you wear the title well for many years.”

  “My thanks to you,” he said. “But I fear greatly for us all that toil in King Edward’s service. This was a strange gathering of lords indeed.”

  Sir Julian nodded. “I had the very same feeling. While I admire Northumberland for deserting his brothers in favor of the king, I still cannot bring myself to trust him. And everyone knows he cannot stand the sight of Earl Rivers, much less fight by his side if the need arose.”

  “That’s true enough, and I think young Gloucester shares that sentiment, though he has no use for Northumberland either.” He shook his head. “This is no fellowship on
which to hang the fate of the crown.”

  “Even Hastings, the king’s closest friend, distrusts the queen and her kin. And she will not fail to recognize that fact. I fear there are too many winds among the king’s friends, and soon he will have to choose a direction. When he does, there will be more bloodshed. Of that, I am certain.”

  “I cannot disagree, though I wish it were otherwise,” Sir Nigel concurred sadly. “To make matters worse, the queen will not be in a forgiving mood after the murder of her father and brother, and being a Neville, Northumberland is likely to feel the sting of her animosity.”

  “Her wrath is not likely to be felt for a while. The king needs Northumberland and his resources desperately.”

  “Are you sure of that? With Warwick and Clarence in exile, Northumberland would not find the kingdom a friendly place were he not in the king’s good graces.”

  “The earl is needed to keep order in the north, and watch for any treachery from the Scots. This is not the time to make new enemies, God knows, and he has proven to be loyal even when it would have been quite easy for him to follow his brother. And had he done so, we would be the ones in exile. Or worse.”

  “You and I understand that,” agreed Sir Nigel, “but what motivates the queen is altogether a different thing. She will never forgive the Nevilles, and Northumberland’s loyalty will gain him little if she sees an opportunity.”

  Sir Julian suspected that his friend was right and realized that since nothing could be done about the queen’s behavior, it would behoove them to keep a sharp eye on the Earl of Northumberland.

  “It shames us to treat the earl in this manner when he has behaved honorably in every way.”

  “Unfortunately, his family has given us little choice, and we both know that honor is a frequent casualty of conflict.”

  Sir Julian looked at the marble floor of the council chambers.

  “Perhaps I am too much a relic of a past time.”

  *

  Hastings’ lack of respect for the Woodvilles was not lost on Edward. He hoped that there would be plenty of time to reconcile his friend with his wife and her family when time better permitted. For now, it was enough that they all knew that they were on the same side.

  “Tell me,” Edward asked, “what have you found out about the rabble who surprised us at Edgecott? They did not behave as if they were under orders from Warwick.”

  “Some clearly were, Sire, or you would not have been so quickly brought to the earl. The rest, it seems were northmen who have always been loyal to the House of Percy, and are very displeased with what has happened since the death of the old earl at Towton.”

  Edward clenched his fists. “We must bring the north into our fold if we are ever to see peace again. These uprisings must stop.” He paced the floor. “Do you think that it would be as simple as giving the earldom back to the Percys? Would such an act of faith with them stop this senseless rebellion?”

  “I suppose it would remove their principal reason for rebellion, assuming that the House of Percy became loyal to the throne. Forgive me, Sire, but is not the earldom already occupied by one who has shown only loyalty to your person?”

  “John Neville will understand that sacrifices are sometimes necessary for the good of the realm. And I can always reward him for his cooperation.” Edward went back to pacing, then put his arm around Hastings and led him toward the door. “Thank you, my friend. I’ll think on what you’ve advised.” Hastings bowed and left the room, wondering what he had advised.

  Edward went to see the queen. She was in her closet, attended by several ladies who were fixing her hair and helping her undress. Edward waved them out of the room and sat next her, still amazed at how the mere sight of her stirred his passion. He stroked her long golden hair that cascaded freely over her shoulders and down her back like a river at sunset. The flawless skin of her face was marred only by her frown.

  “I am sorry, my love, that I was unable to save your father and brother,” said Edward, “but there are times when even a king stands impotent in the face of fate.”

  “Was that what killed my family, my lord?” she asked sharply. “Fate, you say? I heard that it was the traitor Warwick.”

  “You know that it was, Bess.”

  “Than why has he not been brought before the king’s awful judgment? The blood of my father and brother cry to me from the grave, and they will not rest before their murders have been avenged.” Edward took her in his arms and hugged her tightly.

  “Warwick will pay for his crimes, I promise you. For now, my love, we must be content that they are banished and can do us no further harm.”

  “France will give him succor, you can be sure of that.”

  “We are taking precautions. You must not concern yourself.”

  Elizabeth separated herself.

  “Do not treat me as a child, my lord. It is my father who lies headless in his grave, and we are no more secure on the throne than when he was murdered.”

  “Please, my love, you must have faith. There are some things that are beyond a mortal’s ability to achieve unless God is willing. What I can do, I will. That I pledge to you, though I die trying.” His words disarmed her. She took him by the hand and led him to her bed.

  “Perhaps the most important precaution we can take depends on me after all,” she said pulling him down on top of her. “I must bear you a son, and it must be soon.”

  He pushed the golden hair from her face and kissed her gently. It always delighted him how quickly his passion was aroused by the feel of her body, and the surprise was the same no matter how many times they made love.

  “Yes,” he said, kissing her harder as they tugged at each other’s clothing, “Yes, I must have a son.”

  *

  In the morning Edward summoned his Privy Council once again, but this time held the meeting in the throne room. Although Windsor Castle was Edward’s favorite residence in London, it was here at Westminster Palace that the business of state was conducted, and the throne room was opulently suited to carry on such affairs. The high ceiling was constructed of a series of vaults, each elaborately decorated with floral designs around dozens of supporting stone ribs. The stone walls flowed thickly to the floor, decorated with huge tapestries. The room was long enough to give visitors the proper awe as they walked from the only entrance along its length toward the throne that sat atop a marble dais.

  John Neville, the Earl of Northumberland, was the last to arrive at the meeting. Walking toward the throne, he was feeling decidedly uncomfortable. He had been overjoyed at his elevation to the earldom and could not have wished for more from this king as payment for his loyalty. But Warwick put him in a most uncomfortable position, making him choose between his family and a king who had treated him honorably. In the end it was not really a decision at all, and he thought he had made it clear to his brother that he would not dishonor himself by turning on King Edward. On the other hand, he could not war on his brother either, so he chose to remain silently busy in the north when Edward was imprisoned in Warwick Castle, and that action would surely not sit well with the king.

  He noticed that his other brother, the Archbishop of York, was in attendance, and wondered why he was present. He saw the Duke of Gloucester, Lord Hastings, and the detested Earl Rivers, along with other courtiers, members of the king’s personal guard, and a man whom he could not immediately recognize.

  “Welcome, my lord of Northumberland,” said the king when the earl arrived at the throne and bowed.

  “God save Your Highness,” he responded.

  “And now,” the king turned to Sir Nigel, “what news of these traitors?” he asked tersely.

  “Sire, my sources inform me that Clarence and Warwick have attempted a landing at Calais, as you suspected, but the garrison commander, Lord Duras, turned them a
way, forbidding them entrance to the harbor. However, they were permitted a landing at Honfleur and given asylum by the French king. This is all the information we have.” Edward sighed. He knew that there was little he could do while Warwick and Clarence were sheltered by Louis.

  “Lord Hastings, send to the King of France and demand that the traitors be returned to us for crimes against our person.”

  “As you wish, Sire,” said Hastings, “but I hold little hope that he will comply.”

  “Nevertheless. We shall also entreat the Duke of Burgundy. Let Louis know that a joint move against him is a possibility. Such a threat may keep Louis from lending any military aid to Warwick.” He nodded to Hastings, who turned and faced the archbishop.

  “George Neville, Archbishop of York, I arrest you here for foul treason against your lawful monarch.”

  The archbishop bowed his head. “I freely submit myself to His Highness’ mercy.”

  Edward’s look betrayed no mercy. “While it is true that only the Holy Father in Rome can remove you from your clerical honors, let it be known that no longer will you hold the Great Seal of England and be our Chancellor. And until your dangerous brother is brought to answer for his crimes, you will stay here under careful watch. Sir Julian, see that he is conveyed to the Tower.”

  “I shall see it done personally, Your Highness,” he said.

  Edward then turned his attention to the other Neville who was in attendance, for business that was considerably more troublesome.

  “My lord of Northumberland, know that we value your service and have well noted your loyalty in this recent rebellion. We wish to reward you and therefore grant you the Marquisate of Montagu. In exchange for your new title we transfer the Earldom of Northumberland to Sir Henry Percy, here in attendance.”

  The king’s decree was like a knife in the ribs of John Neville. While it was true that as a marquis he would be of a higher social rank than an earl, the Marquisate of Montagu held only a fraction of the prestige of the Earldom of Northumberland, and more importantly, significantly less revenue. He looked over to the man he had not recognized before and saw that it was indeed Henry Percy, the rightful heir to the earldom, who had been imprisoned by Edward ever since his father died at Towton. And now he stood here, forgiven of his father’s transgressions and possessed of the earldom that Neville had earned with his blood.