The Beggar's Throne

by David Francis

  Their confinement in the rectory was especially difficult on the children, who could not understand why they were not permitted to play outside and wanted to return to their home. When John asked where his father was, Sally had wept.

  Kate watched as the family that had been so good to her — taken her in when she had needed shelter without really even knowing her — continued to suffer. She could not escape the knowledge that it was mostly her fault. In a heartbeat, she decided that she could no longer do nothing while these good people suffered on her account. Pulling a shawl over her shoulders, she gave Sally a hug.

  “Thank you ... all of you,” she said sadly, “for your kindness, but I must leave now.”

  “What do you mean? Where are you going?”

  “It’s me that they want, you know that. I can’t hide behind you any longer. I have already caused you too much pain. I only hope that it’s not too late.”

  “You mustn’t go. Once you give them what they want, they’ll kill you, and then probably do the same to us anyway.”

  “I won’t let them harm you. My father is not a butcher.”

  “Your father? But you know that he betrayed you once before.”

  “I know him. He will not do it again if I give him the letter.”

  “What are you talking about? What letter?” asked Emma.

  Sally ignored her. “You will negate everything for which Samuel sacrificed if you do this. His death would be meaningless.”

  “Why do you speak of him as if he is dead? You can’t know that,” said Emma.

  “We all know the man with the scar,” she answered sadly. “He is not likely to let them live after all that’s happened, and Samuel’s friends can’t help him now.”

  “Don’t you see? It’s for Samuel that I must do this, if not to save him, then for his memory, for I have no desire for life at the expense of his. And at least I can try to save his family. Please, don’t make this more difficult.”

  “But you’re all we have left of Samuel.” Sally began to sob, the memory of her beloved brother too much for her to bear. Emma held her.

  “Please Kate, you are part of us now.”

  “Thank you,” Kate answered softly pulling the shawl tight and opening the door. “For everything.” She stepped through and was gone.

  CHAPTER XXV

  “My lady, please, the child’s time has come.”

  “Leave me, you fool! The future king of England will not be born in this place.” Elizabeth shoved the midwife and leaned against the bedpost, hoping that the pains would pass. The midwife grabbed one of the handmaidens.

  “Go quickly and fetch the duchess.” Elizabeth was about to forbid her, but was instead gripped by another contraction.

  “Go!” yelled the midwife to the maiden, who had been paralyzed by the scene.

  Elizabeth cursed softly, knowing well the signs of impending childbirth. She had prayed that somehow Edward would deliver her from sanctuary and reclaim the throne before this one was born.

  She forbade herself to even consider that the child could be another daughter, lest her thoughts somehow affect its gender. The door burst open and the queen’s mother ran in with several others.

  “What, has the time come so soon?” she asked the midwife.

  “It has, my lady, and I must prepare.”

  “Go, I’ll stay with the queen.”

  “Mother, I cannot have this child here.” She was almost in tears. The duchess wiped the sweat from her face.

  “God has willed otherwise, my love. Now you must be still and let us help, and you shall see, he shall be a glorious prince for all England to admire.”

  “But what if…”

  “Lie still, my love. Only God may know the future. For us it is futile.”

  Another wave of pain brought a scream that reverberated around the stark walls of the bedchamber. The quarters were provided by the abbot, and were austere compared to the rooms that Edward had prepared in the Tower. The midwife was back with cloths and containers, some empty, some filled with water that had been heated over the hearth. Several of the women helped Elizabeth into position on the bed, and the vigil began.

  The queen remained in labor for another hour before the midwife announced the child’s imminent birth. The duchess remained by her side, wiping her brow and comforting her through the contractions, until the midwife pulled the child from the birth canal. After the midwife had cut the umbilical, the duchess took the child and handed it to her daughter.

  “The kingdom will rejoice with us, for God has given us this beautiful prince,” she said, barely able to contain her joy.

  Elizabeth breathed a great sigh of relief at the news of her son, and held him close. Ready to sleep after her ordeal, her voice was barely audible.

  “He shall be called Edward, in honor of his father.”

  The duchess remained by her side as she drifted into sleep.

  “May God grant him some safe place in this troubled land,” she whispered. Those in attendance crossed themselves in agreement.

  *

  Sir Hugh and his men ransacked the millhouse in York where Christopher had rebuilt his father’s business from scratch. His henchmen pushed a young man out so that he sprawled before the knight’s horse. He was trembling with terror.

  “Who are you?” The knight’s voice lacked all emotion.

  “I am called Charles, if it please you sir,” he stammered, eyes averted.

  “Where are the owners of this place?”

  “They all left a week ago, I know not where.” The knight leaned toward him on his saddle.

  “And what is your relation to these people?”

  “I am apprenticed here, sir. They asked that I stay and watch over the mill until their return.”

  He nodded to the man standing behind the boy, who drew his knife and pressed it to his throat.

  “I’ll only ask you once, so be sure of your answer. Where did they go?”

  “I swear by all that’s holy, they told me nothing.” He released the contents of his bladder in terror. “They said it was best that I knew nothing.” Sir Hugh scratched his scar.

  “Your services will no longer be needed here. The millers will never be returning, I can assure you of that.” He signaled his men, who threw him onto the street. Jumping to his feet, he ran as fast as he could, hand against his bleeding neck.

  “Burn it,” ordered Sir Hugh savagely. His men found flames in the hearth that had warmed the young apprentice and used them to create flaming brands, which they threw onto the thatched roofs of both houses. While the millhouse itself was made of stone, the roof and supporting timbers made a satisfactory blaze that Sir Hugh watched with obvious pleasure. When the houses were completely engulfed, he ordered his men to their horses, and turned his back on the ruins.

  *

  “I swear on my soul, if he does not give my royal brother what he needs, I’ll make his life a hell in his own palace.” Maggy had stormed into the room and embraced her brother Edward warmly. She had not been permitted to hear the conversation between the king and her husband, the Duke of Burgundy, but had burned his ear well on their journey to Aire, not comprehending why the duke would hesitate to offer aid.

  “He has agreed to help,” said Edward with a weak smile, “but I will need a great deal more if I’m to bring down Warwick.”

  “The noble houses of England will flock to you when they hear of your arrival. They have sworn their oaths and will not forsake you.”

  “They forswore their oaths to Henry before me.” Edward was despondent. “How is anyone to know who to follow, or who to fight for? No, do not expect the nobility to rally behind my colors, or the common folk either. These wars have tried their patience beyond what I can demand.”<
br />
  “How can my royal brother speak this way? To lose hope before even fighting for what is rightfully his. Where is the brash young man that I grew to love and admire at Ludlow? And where the smile that robbed me of so many angry moments?”

  He shrugged. “These wars have taken my youth, Maggy. And they have cost me a father and…” His head dropped between slumping shoulders. She put her hand on his cheek.

  “I also wake at night calling Edmund’s name, and I see his face in every cloud and in the reflection of every misty lake. I long for the sight of his loving eyes, and the days when it was just the three of us, and his laughter filled my heart.”

  “He tried to warn me. He tried to tell me about the cost of this quest, but I did not understand until now what he meant, now that it is far too late.”

  “Too late? You have truly lost your way, haven’t you? It is never too late, my brother, to correct what has been wronged, or to take back what has been wrongfully seized. Shake off this dangerous mood, Edward, and once again be king, for there is nothing else for you in this life. The ship has sailed that could have borne you to other fates.”

  Edward turned from his sister and tried to clear his mind of the sadness that had possessed it.

  “Of course you’re right.” His back straightened. “And you need not worry that I’ll choose to live my remaining years in a monastery. I will take your husband’s small force and return to England, for I will be king of the land that is moistened by its rainy sky until I am dust within its bosom.”

  “It is well said, Your Majesty.” She embraced him again. “And I will pray for you from these shores, wishing that I could be by your side.”

  “I shall count on that.” He kissed her cheek.

  She hesitated for a moment.

  “I wish to ask a boon before you leave. Will you hear my request?”

  “You know that I will,” he said tenderly.

  “Your brother Clarence still loves you, though he has strayed. If you give him a chance, you’ll see that he has a good heart.” Edward’s face grew hard.

  “I marvel that you still favor him after his treachery. I gave him every opportunity to prove his love and he thanked me with betrayal, and now he wallows in comfort while his brother and lawful king suffers the fate of a beggar in a foreign land.”

  “He will prove a true brother, I know it in my soul. He needs only a chance to prove himself.”

  “We shall see if God gives me any means to test your faith. Now I must see to our preparations, and will take my leave of you.”

  “Godspeed, Edward. I will visit your royal throne when, by His will, you have reclaimed what is yours.”

  “Until then,” he agreed with a smile. They embraced one last time and she swept from the room, wiping tears from her cheeks.

  “Farewell, my sister. Perhaps when next we meet, Edmund will be with us once again.”

  *

  The door of Chilton Manor swung open, and the steward of the house looked as if he had seen a spirit from the dead.

  “Lady Katherine! I can scarcely believe it.”

  Kate stood at the threshold, dressed in the garb of a serving girl, shivering from the cold, and wishing she was anyplace but here. Her journey had been long and difficult, walking dangerous roads where evil stalked those who were careless.

  “May I come in, Walter?” she asked quietly.

  “It is not my place to deny you, my lady. Please come in, and let me take that wet cloak. There is a fire in the great hall. Wait there and I’ll get you a dry wrap.”

  “Thank you, Walter. And will you please announce my presence to my father?”

  “As you wish, Lady Katherine.”

  He escorted her to the great hall. A huge stone hearth with fluted columns on either side contained a snapping fire supported by a shimmering bed of coals. She stepped close, warming her numb hands. The heat raised steam from her wet clothing. Looking around the empty hall, she recalled the lighthearted years of her youth. How she had relished the time when she ran through this room with such abandon. And the banquets! Feasts of unimaginable quantity; jesters and musicians performing their magic to her delight. Her father would allow her to sit on his lap, affording her the best view in the room. He was so young and full of cheer in those days before the wars.

  It hardly seemed like the same life to her when, in this very room, he had ordered her to turn over the letter after she had confided in him, an act that felt so like betrayal that she had fled from her life, never to return until this moment.

  “My God!” a voice exclaimed behind her. She turned to see her father, Lord Fitzwalter. “It really is you.”

  She curtsied in respect

  “I hope you will forgive my unannounced arrival.”

  He looked disapprovingly at her clothing.

  “So it’s true. You have actually lived as a common serving girl?”

  “Yes, Father.”

  “The life I gave you here was so unpleasant that you prefer to live like this?” He waved at her torn shawl.

  “We both know why I left.” She turned to face the fire.

  “Yes we do, indeed. You were shamed by your own act of disobedience, not only to me but to the royal family itself. Is that why you return? Have you finally after all these years seen the dishonor in your actions?”

  “Think what you will, Father. I have not returned to debate the past with you, but to offer you a bargain. Will you hear it?”

  Lord Fitzwalter sat in a large cushioned seat.

  “Very well, what is this bargain? I hope it concerns the letter that you stole from the queen.”

  “It does.” She turned to face him once again. “As you know,” her tone was accusatory, “I have been hunted like a wild animal for that letter, and have not had a moment of peace since I left here. I knew that and accepted it when I made my decision, and I regret nothing. But there are others that have been made to suffer for my decision, and I wish for that to stop.”

  “You refer to your…friend in the former king’s personal guard?” Kate could not conceal her surprise.

  “You know of him?”

  “Your recent activities are well known to me.”

  “You knew that I was imprisoned by that dog, Colinsworth, and did nothing?” Her surprise was turning to anger.

  “You said you had no regrets. Do you wish to amend that assertion?”

  She clenched her fists, then seemed to deflate. It was true: Why should he have lifted a finger on her behalf after she had turned her back on him and brought dishonor to his house? And yet she had held some hope that he would relent. Now she knew better.

  “Do you wish to hear my proposal?”

  “Please.”

  “I will turn the letter over to you, if you will give me your word that there will be no further persecution of the miller’s family. They have nothing to do with what has been done and have no knowledge of any of these affairs. Will you agree to those terms?”

  Her father took a while to think.

  “Your friend…what is his name?”

  “Samuel.” The word brought an ache to her heart.

  “I understand that he is wanted for crimes against the throne. If so, there is nothing that I can do for him.”

  “It is his family that I want protected. Samuel has already paid the price for the charges against him.”

  That information came as a surprise to Fitzwalter. He made a mental note to inquire into its veracity.

  “If you turn the letter over to me, I will place the others under my personal protection.”

  Kate walked over to a small stand upon which a book lay open in the center. The arrangement of the book and its surroundings resembled a shrine. She took the book to her father
.

  “You will swear it on Mother’s Bible.”

  The Bible was the only possession her mother truly cherished during her life, and was sacred to Fitzwalter, his memory of her being his most valued possession. He laid his hand on it.

  “I swear it on this holy book,” he said softly.

  That very evening, a rider left Chilton Manor with an urgent message for Lord Roos.

  *

  “What place is this before us?” asked Edward, pointing toward the low shore off the bow.

  “It is the port of Ravenspur, Your Highness,” said Hastings. “If our intelligence is accurate, we will find no resistance to our landing.”

  Edward hoped it was true. He was eager to know his fate. The crossing had been uneventful, taking only one night to reach Cromer off the Norfolk coast, where they had hoped to find a friendly reception. Instead, they discovered that Warwick had anticipated them, and the town was heavily fortified. As they turned back out to sea, the infamous channel weather turned stormy and his small fleet was scattered over the water. One ship carrying mostly horses went to the bottom. The rest of the fleet gathered at the mouth of the River Humber, and longboats were dispatched to seek landing places. Edward sent a portion up the coast with his brother, Gloucester, and another group down the coast under the leadership of Earl Rivers, with orders to land as best they could and make their way to Ravenspur. Sir Julian and Lord Hastings remained with the king and a small following.

  “Very well, William. Order the captain to find a suitable landing. God’s will awaits us.”

  Several hours later, Edward’s boats had disgorged their men, horses, and meager cache of weaponry. They waited for Gloucester and Rivers to join them while gathering supplies in Ravenspur. He sent to Henry Percy, the man he had restored as the Earl of Northumberland at great cost to himself, to see if he was now ready to repay the favor. He also sent scouts to search for Sir Nigel of Devon.