“We thank you all, and recognize that your valiant efforts this day have carried us all to a victory that shall be remembered by our children’s children. Herald, what news of the dead?”
“Sire, of soldiers of low birth, fifteen hundred lie dead on the field this morning. Of nobility, Lords Say and Cromwell and fifteen knights of the realm are dead, and here in this wagon lie the bodies of your great enemies, the Marquis of Montagu and the Earl of Warwick.” When he said their names, he pulled the tarp from the wagon, revealing the naked and hacked bodies of the two Nevilles, still oozing enough blood from their wounds to cause a steady stream to run from the cart. Edward approached the wagon and crossed himself as he inspected the bodies. When he had said a silent prayer, he turned to his men.
“Let no man report that we are happy to see our cousins in this way. We had always hoped that they would accept our clemency and be once again our friends, but God has willed otherwise, and we cannot change what has been done.” With a wave of his hand, he ordered the tarp replaced. “Carry the bodies to London and let the people see the truth of their deaths, for such is the price of treason, and let the heralds spread the word throughout the realm that the Kingmaker will make kings no more.” The wagon was wheeled away as the gathered nobility looked on.
“Sire,” Lord Hastings said, “we all wish to relish this victory, but our land is still not free of rebellion.” Edward lowered his head, exhaustion taking its toll.
“Yes, we must go with haste to the west where persistent Margaret still violates our kingdom.” He sighed heavily. “But we will spend the remainder of this day giving thanks to God. Summon Father Dennis to our tent.”
*
Samuel regained consciousness slowly, at first having no notion of where he was. His eyes opened to the sight of a man he did not recognize.
“He’s coming around,” the man announced. “I think he’ll be fine when he gets his strength back.” He stepped back and the concerned faces of Stanley and Oliver came into focus.
“I should think that by now you’d be sick of having me nurse you,” said Oliver with a broad smile. “God knows, I am.”
Samuel tried to move but had no strength.
“There’s no use in your trying to get up,” said the surgeon. “I don’t know how anyone in your shape was able to fight such a battle in the first place, but now you might as well enjoy your rest, because it will be a few days before you’re strong enough to be back on your feet.” He stood to leave. “Just get him to eat as much as he can. Now there are many who need my care more urgently.”
“Where am I?” Samuel asked. Oliver placed a small cushion under his head.
“This is Sir Julian’s tent. He insisted that you stay here for as long as you need.”
“Sir Julian? Then he’s…still alive?”
“Yes,” Oliver answered. “He’s cut up some, but he made it through the battle alive.”
“Thank God,” Samuel whispered, drifting into sleep again.
Some time later he opened his eyes again to see Sir Julian gazing benevolently at him.
“Did you have a good rest, lad?” Samuel now found that he was able to move at least enough to lift his hands to his face.
“How long have I been here?” he asked.
“It’s morning. You’ve been asleep for an entire day.”
“The last I remember, you were on the ground. I tried to help…”
“You did more than help, lad. You knocked the curs clean off their feet, giving me time to recover and Stanley time to watch my back for the rest of the fight. You saved my life, as sure as I breathe.”
“Thank God you’re alive.”
“Amen to that. Now it’s time for you to eat something.” He signaled for his page, who brought a bowl of hot stew and held the bowl for Samuel, who had not until then realized how hungry he was. “That’s the spirit,” smiled Sir Julian. “When you’ve finished that up, you can get some more rest.”
For the next three days, Samuel spent the time slowly regaining his strength, while the king and his advisors busied themselves gathering fresh troops and preparing for another march.
After so much food and rest, Samuel felt almost like his old self again and could even bend his bow with his former confidence. As usual, Oliver had been by his side the entire time, and their spirits were as high as they had been since before they met that hideous night on Wakefield bridge.
The night of the fifth evening after the battle of Barnet, they were tending a cook fire near Sir Julian’s tent. Stanley had joined them and was sharing stories of the battle and jokes in the starry night when Sir Julian and Sir Nigel joined them. Samuel did not like their expressions.
“I’ve seen that look before, and the news was never good. Have the marching orders been given?” They glanced at each other first. Sir Nigel cleared his throat.
“Samuel, I’m afraid that Kate has been taken by the queen’s men.” Samuel could not have been more surprised if Sir Nigel had struck him with his fist.
“How…?”
“It seems that she went to her father, Lord Fitzwalter, voluntarily.”
“Her father?” He was totally confused.
“It came as a surprise to me as well,” Sir Nigel admitted, “but she is his daughter. I confirmed it before telling you, though I would never have found out if your sister had not told my man, Jonathan. Apparently she was the only one to know. Kate is the reason that Sir Hugh has pursued you so relentlessly, but for what reason, we still have no knowledge.”
“You promised me she was safe!” Samuel was furious.
“When I left her she was. You know that to be true. It was her own decision to leave, hoping that by turning herself over she would buy freedom for the rest of your family.”
“Where is she, Sir Nigel? I know that you have the information.”
He hesitated, wondering if it was wise to tell. “She has been taken to the queen near Devon, at last report.”
Samuel strode quickly to the tent and began collecting his belongings. Sir Julian went to him, speaking softly.
“How could you help her now, lad? We will march to meet the queen at first light, and we’ll find her together.”
“The last time I heard that, we took care of the king’s business and I gained nothing. I will not throw her to the mercies of chance.”
“But what can you do? Be reasonable.”
“Whatever I can, but at least I’ll die trying.” Oliver began packing as well, but Samuel took his arm. “Not this time, my friend. You must think of Sally and John. They need you. Go back to them in the morning and be happy. You deserve that at least.” Oliver began to object, but Samuel took his pack from him. “In the end, we all die alone, my friend.”
Oliver was devastated. After all they had been through, he did not think it would end this way. Samuel gave him a final embrace and shouldered his bow and quiver.
Sir Julian tried one last time. “I promise you, if you stay we’ll find Kate together.”
“I know you mean that, Sir Julian, but you have other duties that come first. I don’t.” He turned without another word and disappeared down the road to the west.
No one moved for a long while, the sounds of crickets and voices from other tents made louder by the silence. Sir Julian raised his head flush to the fire, red glow lighting his old eyes.
“I’m going with him.”
“What are you saying?” Sir Nigel was incredulous.
“I’m going with him, that’s plain enough. I can’t leave him alone to fight Sir Hugh, not after everything he’s done for me.”
“Don’t be a fool. You’re talking about leaving the king right before a battle. He will have your neck on the block, as sure as there is no hotter place than Hell.”
“It’s a life that I owe Samuel anyway. I am honor bound, and will hear no more.” He stood and stalked away toward his tent. Stanley ran after him.
“You’ll have to take me along then, Sir Julian!” he shouted.
A few moments later, Sir Julian pulled himself onto his horse and rode from camp with Stanley. Riding quietly to the edge of camp, he found the road toward the west and spurred his horse forward. A few hundred yards from camp he found Sir Nigel on horseback, astride the road.
“Is it your intention to prevent my passage?” he asked darkly, his old eyes sharp as thorns.
“I owe him a life or two as well,” said Sir Nigel. Stanley nodded grim affirmation.
“The king will get the intelligence he needs?” The old knight had not forgotten his duty.
“Jonathan will see that he is well informed.”
Without another word, they turned their horses to the west and spurred them forward.
CHAPTER XXVI
The town of Gloucester near the Welsh border had grown rapidly since the plague had taken more than half its population a hundred years before, and while it hadn’t regained its numbers, there were many signs of renewed vigor. The markets once again bustled to the sounds of hawkers’ shouts, and copious produce flowed to its streets from the fertile land that stretched for miles from its gates.
But on this day the town leaders were contemplating a choice between two warring factions, and the fates of their families would turn on their decision. King Edward had delivered a stern warning to close their gates to Queen Margaret’s advancing army. But Margaret was only hours away, and she had sent word ahead that her soldiers were to be refreshed and provisioned. Whatever the mayor decided, if he went with the eventual loser, the town would suffer horribly at the hands of the victor. Punishments such as revocation of royal licenses and punitive taxes could cripple its commerce for years, and its leaders would likely pay for their lack of foresight with their lives. To make matters worse, nobles supporting both sides were in town waiting for the decision to be made. Lords Roos and Fitzwalter and their party were attending the queen’s business and had expected to greet her when she arrived. On the other hand, the master of Gloucester Castle, Lord Beauchamp, was a loyal Yorkist and had told the mayor already that the gates were to be barred against Margaret.
Fitzwalter and Kate sat in the bishop’s townhouse waiting as Sir Hugh kept watch. It had been a long ride from Chilton Manor, escorted as they were by Lord Roos and his entire entourage of retainers. At this time in the spring, the roads had tried their endurance. But Kate was lost in depression and hardly noticed as the miles passed beneath them, knowing that the knowledge she still kept locked within herself was all that kept her from likely execution.
When they arrived at Gloucester, they were surprised to find Sir Hugh waiting for them with the devastating news of the battle at Barnet and the death of the Nevilles. Sir Hugh’s presence was particularly unpleasant to Kate, who despised him for what he done to the Miller family.
“I think it is unwise, my lord, to allow her to be the only one with the information,” Sir Hugh leered. “If something should…happen to her, the information would be lost, and the queen would likely have your head in retribution.”
“Then I suggest we ensure that nothing happen to her,” said Lord Fitzwalter angrily. At some point he would ask the queen to divest herself of this despicable man, but for now every soldier was needed. “I have given my word that she need only divulge the information to the queen herself, and I intend to honor that commitment. I suggest you let me worry about the queen.”
“As you wish, my lord.” He had a way of making even the simplest courtesy sound disrespectful. Lord Roos entered the room red-faced with anger.
“The fools!” he ranted. “I’ll take pleasure in personally placing the heads of those two traitors on the city walls.”
“May I assume from this tirade that Beauchamp has convinced the mayor to lock the gates against the queen?”
“And they will pay dearly, I promise you that.”
“Be that as it may, my lords,” interrupted Sir Hugh, “this will make our duty more difficult. We will have to travel to the queen ourselves with her prize.”
“Sir, you will not refer to Lady Katherine as a prize. She is still my daughter and will be treated as such.”
“I apologize, my lord,” he said. “Are we free to leave the city?” he asked Lord Roos.
“The fool mayor has given us leave to depart as we wish. Beauchamp hadn’t the spine to leave his castle to deny us.”
“A decision that has bought him a few more days of life,” responded Sir Hugh. “However, my lords, I do suggest that we remove ourselves from here quickly. The queen will pass nearby this very night.”
Horses were saddled and brought into the bishop’s courtyard. When they arrived at the wall, a door in the gate was opened to them and they left town, leaving behind the sure knowledge that if they returned with a victorious Queen Margaret, the mayor was not the only person who would regret this disloyalty.
After two hours of riding, they spotted the vanguard of the queen’s army and rode past it to where the queen’s carriage was escorted by the Prince of Wales and his betrothed, Anne, who was deeply grieved at the news of her father’s death at Barnet. The queen opened the shade of the carriage and, seeing Kate, broke into a broad smile.
“Katherine. You have given us a merry chase.” She turned to Lord Roos. “Has she given you the information?”
“No, Your Highness. However, she has sworn to satisfy you at your leisure.”
“Has she? And what is the answer from the mayor of Gloucester? Will he yield to his lawful monarch?”
“He will not, Majesty.”
“His head will pay the price.” She took a moment to weigh her options. Her troops were tired from their long march, and this was evil news. “We do not have the luxury of time for a siege. Order the captains to camp here. Tomorrow we will continue north.”
“As you wish, my lady.”
“And bring our dear friend Katherine to us when our tent is ready.” She smiled at Kate again and lowered her shade.
An hour later, Katherine knelt before Margaret, flanked by Lords Roos and Fitzwalter, while Sir Hugh stood silently by the flap. The Prince of Wales stood behind and to the right of his mother.
“If only you knew the anguish that you have caused us these past years,” Margaret addressed her wistfully. “What could you possibly say that would inspire the least portion of mercy from our heart that you have so sorely abused?”
“I seek no mercy from Your Highness,” Kate said steadily.
“And yet we are told that you wish to divulge the location of a certain paper containing foul lies about us and our royal dignity. Is this true?”
“It is, Your Highness, provided you can assure me that a promise made to me by my father will be kept.”
“You dare to bargain with the queen?” The prince was outraged.
Margaret silenced him with a raised hand.
“Lord Fitzwalter, what is this promise?”
“Majesty, in exchange for the speedy deliverance of the letter, I promised only to protect the family of some inconsequential millers from York.”
“Forgive me, Your Highness,” Sir Hugh was startled by Fitzwalter’s promise, “but this family has been charged with treason against His Highness, the king.” Fitzwalter was amazed at the vehemence in his voice.
“Only one member of the family has been so charged, Majesty, and I have made no promises regarding him. The rest are blameless.”
“Your Highness’ courts should determine that, Majesty.”
“Enough!” the queen grew impatient. “The letter is our only concern. If Lord Fitzwalter wishes to risk his name in this matter, so be it. We
will not interfere. Now, Katherine, tell us what we wish to know.”
Kate knew that her life would be forfeit after she told them, but she had no choice. It was the only way her new family would gain their freedom, and as for her own life, without Samuel there could be no happiness. She revealed the location of the letter.
“Very clever, my dear,” the queen replied. “Sir Hugh, you will guard her closely until we have the letter in our hands.”
“Your Highness,” interceded Fitzwalter, “I ask that you place my daughter in my care.”
“She will pay dearly for her disobedience, my lord. We will never release her again.”
*
The next day, Edward heard that the queen’s army had moved north of Gloucester after being denied access to the city. It was encouraging to know that some of his subjects were still willing to obey his orders, and he made a note to reward Lord Beauchamp for his loyalty. But that news was more than offset by the report that Sir Julian and Sir Nigel had departed without permission. Sir Nigel had left the king’s channels of intelligence intact, as Edward was still receiving regular reports from his scouts, so it was clear that he was not deserting to the other side. Still, his behavior was inexplicable.
Edward rode with the vanguard, eager to hear the scouts’ reports. He felt confident that his army was well rested, although it had only been a week since the battle at Barnet, and the news of his victory there had encouraged many of the wavering nobility to send reinforcements to replenish those who had been lost.
With him were his brothers, Clarence and Gloucester, and Lord Hastings, who had gone ahead for news. It was a rainy day, though not particularly cold, but the roads were heavily rutted. The front of the column was able to proceed without too much difficulty, but the damage caused by their horses and wagons left the road in even worse shape for those in the rear.
Speed was of paramount importance if Edward was to force an engagement with Margaret before she could gain help. He had suffered these wars for too long, and would have an end to them, even if it meant the end of the House of York, for they were all here and would be victorious or perish in the attempt. Hastings approached at a gallop.
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