The air chilled her eyes. She stared down at the frigid tomb that contained the bones of her son. The whole of creation reverberated like the skin of a vast drum.
The muse’s face became sombre with grief. “Upon this path, his father died five centuries ago,” she said. “Here, everything you know is long gone, ruined. To me, it’s the present; but I can still weep for a past that I can’t touch or change.”
Raphael went a step closer to the woman. He seemed transfixed by her, as if he’d forgotten Kate was there. He asked unsteadily, “Can you tell us what will happen?”
“Haven’t you already seen it?”
“I’ve seen many terrible visions, but I can’t fathom what they mean, nor what I’m supposed to do with these hellish premonitions.”
The muse reached across the corner of the tomb and laid her hand on his forearm. “You’re real,” she said softly. “I can touch you. Raphael.”
He looked questioningly at her. She went on.
“It’s as Eleanor says. With every action, our world divides along different ways until there are infinite possible realities. Perhaps there are paths where Richard never was king, or was never born at all. Your path and mine are so close that I can only differentiate them in small ways. I think that’s why you’ve been tormented by echoes of my world, Raphael. Because they are so close, and you’re sensitive.”
“I’d rather have heard nothing, seen nothing.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” the muse said gently.
“I cannot stand by and see Richard die.”
“You may have no choice. I can’t go back and change history, much as I’d give anything to do so. You may have to stand by and watch it all unfold as in your worst nightmares, powerless to make a difference.”
“No,” said Kate.
“All you’ve seen is true, Raphael. I could show you a hundred books that tell the story. He will be reviled after his death. His enemies will take every rumour and magnify it, blacken his name in order to justify their seizure of power. They’ll say he was hunch-backed, an outward sign of evil–”
“That is a lie!”
“But lies become legend. No one will see him any more as human, fallible or lovable in any way. He’ll become an immortal villain, and an immortal hero.”
“A hero as well?” said Kate. “Good lady, I don’t understand.”
“In times to come, some will question the received wisdom – surely no one could be that evil? People of the North will always love him. Scholars will set out to unearth the truth, and defend him. Some will even try to prove him a saint.”
“He’s not that,” Kate said.
The muse smiled. Despite her strange clothes, she looked fully human.
“That’s the point. There will only be extremes. And because of that, he will never be forgotten. Never forgotten.”
She spoke with complete conviction, an oracle. The imminence of loss overwhelmed Kate. She trembled, fighting tears.
“I don’t want him to die,” she said. “If he does, I have no reason to live.”
“But it’s only his death in battle that guarantees him immortality,” said the muse. “His brave death.”
“But my mother says the paths are not fixed,” Kate said fiercely. “Not inevitable!”
“Then change it if you can,” said the muse. She looked from Raphael to Kate, imploring. “I don’t want to give any of us false hope by thinking that things could be different. But if you can, please…”
And she vanished, leaving only a backdrop of stone and ivy where she’d stood. Kate and Raphael moved close together, awed, shaken by a sense of loss so great that Kate could barely encompass it.
“Let us go back now,” she said.
“Do you want to?”
“What?”
Raphael’s voice was dry, strange. “We could walk from here into this unknown world and read our own story in history books. We wouldn’t have to endure it any more. Leave Richard alive, Robin and Eleanor alive, and they’d always be alive in our memories. We wouldn’t have to endure the pain of losing them. We know what’s going to happen, Kate. Why go back and live through every horrible moment? We could read books, and look back and think ah, that’s how it was, and weep, but the pain would be bearable.”
“Read how our dear King Richard was evil and deformed, England’s most wicked king? Is that what you want?”
He hesitated, face strained. “It will happen anyway.”
“Not if we go back and change it.”
“But what if our attempts at changing things are what cause his death? How can we know? We are no one, Kate. We have no voice. No one who loved Richard will have a voice under the rule of his enemies.”
“You can’t seriously consider leaving our lives behind. Running away? This isn’t you speaking!”
“I don’t know what my life is now,” he said. “The whole world’s changed. I didn’t know you had a son by Richard. If you aren’t the person I thought, then who am I?”
“I’m still the same,” she said desperately. “So are you.”
He looked up at the sky through the broken roof. “I feel drawn to this place. It’s so peaceful. I want to stay.”
Fear pinched her stomach. What if they couldn’t leave and go back to the world they knew? What if she lost Raphael? She put her arm through his and said, “Let us go back the way we came, and see what happens.”
“No, I want to go on.”
She clung to his arm as they emerged from the church; not trying to stop him, just to keep hold of him. Raphael forged along the bank of the lake, until trees surrounded them again.
A sudden roaring noise made them both cry out and cower. An object passed overhead, shaking the branches like a storm – some gigantic demon, expelled from the smoky mouth of hell. Then all was quiet again. The birds began to sing loudly. They walked on and Kate saw a dryad, wrapping its green form around a tree, watching them as it slithered from branch to branch like a misty snake.
They stepped out of the wood onto a river bank. Eleanor was waiting for them.
Kate gasped out loud with relief. Raphael was silent. His head fell. When he looked up again, his eyes were calm.
“We shall have to go back to the king, and tell him everything that’s happened,” he said.
“It might be better he doesn’t know,” Kate said. “What can it do but distress or anger him, and cloud his judgement?”
“But the choice whether or not to heed my visions should be his. Not ours. If we don’t give him that choice, we’re truly betraying him.”
She nodded, pained but resigned.
“One thing, Raphael,” she added quickly. “Don’t tell him about Robin.”
“Kate, he deserves to know.”
“Yes, but it’s for me to tell him. Not you. Promise me, please.”
He hesitated. At last he said, “I promise.”
###
“The court has been mad with rumours, all the time we were gone,” said Ursula, combing Kate’s hair. “The king is definitely going to marry his niece. Some are saying he’s already got her with child.”
“What?” Kate spun round, so violently that she knocked the comb out of Ursula’s hand.
“Lamb’s blood, Lady Kate, don’t blame me! I’m only reporting what we’ve heard. Crimson doesn’t suit your complexion. Why are you so angry?”
“I’m not,” Kate said between clenched teeth. For a moment she wanted to kill both Bess and the king. Some poison slipped into their wine…
Perhaps, if Richard died as the muse said, it would be a relief. Better to grieve than be consumed alive by jealousy.
“I’m sorry,” said Kate said, mastering herself.
Ursula exhaled. “No, I am. Nan confides in me. Your tender feelings towards a certain person are probably more obvious than you realise. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“And I didn’t mean nearly to knock you across the room. Well, I hope you and Nan keep your gossip about me firmly between the two
of you.” Ursula coloured. “What else?”
“They say his own councillors are firmly set against the idea. Notably Ratcliffe and Catesby.”
“Because she’s his niece, and declared illegitimate?” Kate said sharply.
“And the rumours that he poisoned his wife.”
Kate bit her lip, tasted iron. “Never mind my hair. Curl it up quickly and pin that hennin upon it.”
“Where are you going?”
“To learn the truth.”
###
She looked in and saw a narrow slice of the room; the chequerboard floor, the steps to the throne dais, flashes of ruby, gold leaf and ebony, all washed in bronze lamplight. And Richard was there with Lady Bess. She was on the first step, he on the floor, so their eyes were on a level. As Kate watched, Richard leaned forward and kissed his niece on the lips.
The kiss was decorous, but welded Kate to the spot. She was idly haunting the areas of the palace where she knew Richard sometimes walked if he couldn’t sleep. She’d hoped to stumble upon him by chance, and now wished she hadn’t.
Richard whispered to Bess. Her reaction was not what Kate expected. Her expression passed from confusion to desolation. Pulling away from him, she walked abruptly away, her head down, one hand cupping her face. She came towards Kate, almost running. Kate pressed back behind the door frame but Bess scurried straight past, not even seeing her.
Richard, alone, stayed where he was for a few moments. Then he began to walk at a steady pace towards the door after Lady Bess.
Kate was too late to escape. He noticed her and continued his approach. She stood like a stone pillar, seeing no reason to run, or pretend she hadn’t seen them. What did it matter? She felt snow-cold. If he upbraided her, he might as well upbraid a cat or a serpent. She stared at him. He held her gaze until he was with her inside the unlit door-arch. There he stopped and faced her.
At last he said, “Well?”
“Raphael and I must speak to you, your Grace.”
“Yes. I asked him to come to me tomorrow. I’ve not had time today.”
“No, you are clearly very busy.”
Silence. They looked darkly at each other until he spoke.
“Is there something else?”
“Richard…”
“I sense disapproval. Don’t keep it to yourself; no one else in this kingdom has.”
“The rumours are true, then.”
“What rumours would these be? There are so many.”
“I thought it was a childish infatuation on her part. I didn’t know…” She suffered an intense feeling of unreality. How had she come to be standing in a doorway, babbling nonsense to the King of England, while he stood listening, piercing her with those unfathomable eyes? She didn’t know where the words came from. “Sire, if it’s your wish, marry her and be happy. I’ll be her lady-in-waiting, as I was Anne’s. I’ll serve and cherish her as I would anyone dear to you.”
Richard’s reaction startled her. His eyes opened wide. He took her hand, his first two fingers folding into her palm, holding it tight.
“Kate,” he said. “Bless you for that sweet sentiment, when all I’ve had is sour carping from every quarter. But I am not going to marry my niece. All you saw was me telling her so. I thought it only fair to apologise to her privately before I dismiss these rumours in public.”
Relief turned Katherine from stone to flame.
“Did you… did you think of it?”
“Briefly. Foolishly. Legitimate or not, folk still see her as Edward’s heir, a princess of the royal line.”
“She looked upset. She’s in love with you.”
And I shouldn’t hate her for that, Kate thought.
Richard sighed. “Bess and I were always fond of each other. I’m afraid that is ended now. We have both suffered loneliness and we mistook it for… A light dazzled us, obscuring reality for a short time. If she loved me, she was more in love with the idea of wearing a crown. She is her mother’s daughter.”
Any relief Kate felt was replaced by a maddening surge of frustration. She felt like screaming, How could you turn to her when I was here? Oh, because she was blonde, pliant and adoring, whereas I am Medusa with a scorpion tongue.
Stiffly she said, “If you’ve broken her heart, I shall have to help pick up the pieces. And it’s a shame she did not seek of me the advice that might have saved you both the most painful embarrassment.”
“What do you mean?”
“To prevent an untimely event. What if she’s already with child?”
Seeing Richard’s face, she wondered what she would have to do to place such amazement upon it a second time.
“Iesu’s blood, Kate! What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m merely being practical.”
“I have not touched her.”
“Oh. Then I apologise.”
“Once,” he murmured. He rested one hand against the wall and dropped his head.
“Once is sufficient,” Kate hissed.
“Kate, is it my imagination or are you beginning to sound jealous?”
“I’m thinking of Bess. My mistress.”
She turned to go. He caught her elbow and held it so hard she couldn’t move. “You always get the truth out of me, so don’t run away when I tell it. Once I went to her chambers, which I assure you I could not have done without the full collusion of her mother. I suppose I meant to lie with her, I suppose I desired her, or at least a welcoming body, and she was nothing if not eager. But when it came to it, I could not.”
“Why?”
He paused. His face was bleak. “She is fair, isn’t she? Yet I found the idea repellent. I remember her as a child. I see too much of Edward and her mother in her.” He let Kate go and pushed a weary hand through his hair. “All I could see was my little niece. Then I knew I could not marry her, not even to stop Henry Tudor having her. I realised that I was not thinking at all. I haven’t thought clearly since my son died. I was acting blindly, because I no longer cared about anything. Aren’t you ashamed of me?”
Her hand hovered. She sensed that a comforting touch would draw no reaction from him. How could they possibly explain Raphael’s visions to him now?
“No. You were in pain. But you could have spoken to me…”
“I’ll have to send Bess away, find some worthy noble for her to marry. Her mother will be furious and no doubt begin conspiring against me yet again. I don’t have to tell you what a wretched position this puts me in. All my own fault, or at least half my fault. Do you forgive me?”
She was astonished. “You don’t need me to forgive you.”
“Oh, I do.” He gave a wry, sad smile. “No one else will.”
He stayed there looking at her for long seconds. She felt her heart thundering, the night turning like a velvet sphere. Then the moment passed. His face was shuttered, closed to complication. He bowed quickly to her, and was gone.
###
Bess wept in Kate’s arms. She shook, as hot as fever, soaking Kate’s shoulder with her tears.
“He has taken everything from me. Deprived me of uncle, lover, husband, throne – gods, he will be sorry for this. I thought I loved him; I was wrong. I hate him.”
Patiently Kate held her, murmuring comfort. If any other man had destroyed Bess’s life, her heart would have bled with pity. As things were, she dared let no emotion seep through her shell.
“Can you – can you help me, Kate?” asked Bess.
“What do you mean?”
“You know. Everyone knows what you are.”
“Then everyone knows that it is forbidden to use influence, Bess.”
“This is different. Help me. I want him to feel the pain I am in.”
“My lady, he already does.”
“Then I want him to hurt more!”
“I can’t,” Kate answered thinly. “Not in that way.”
“If you won’t help me, my mother shall! She will write to Henry Tudor. I am not a bastard, Kate. I’m the rightful queen. Tu
dor can rule only through me. If Richard won’t have me, a better man shall.”
Then her face dissolved, and she fell on Kate’s breast again. Bess sobbed, oblivious to the secret feelings of her comforter, unaware of Kate’s face as she rested her chin atop the golden hair: the fixed smile, the eyes of iced glass.
###
The king’s face looked drawn. He’d been forced to make a humiliating speech before Parliament, denying that the intention of marrying his niece had ever entered his head. Meanwhile, his councillors – so Raphael had been told – had sat with narrowed eyes, knowing full well to the contrary.
Now, quiet and low in spirits, he listened intently as Raphael told him everything. The two men were in a private courtyard garden, the sun hot upon them. Richard sat on a stone bench, idly drawing on the ground with the point of a sword as Raphael spoke.
Earlier, Raphael and Kate had argued. She’d warned him again to keep the matter to himself. When Raphael had insisted that the king must know, she’d walked away in despair.
“Your Grace, I crave your pardon,” he said at the end. “I wouldn’t have wasted your time with mad imaginings and nightmares for the world. But I feel that what I’ve seen is true. If you banish me for this, I won’t blame you; but at least I’ve told you all I know. That burden is off me.”
Richard laid his hand on Raphael’s shoulder. “I’m glad you told me, my friend. My seer. I am forewarned.”
Raphael was startled that Richard took him so seriously. “You believe me?”
“You may have misinterpreted certain things. That’s entirely possible. Still, on the whole I can’t dismiss what you’ve said.”
“Why?”
“Because a good deal of what you’ve told me is already happening. The Welsh pretender Tudor is on the march. With marvellous impudence, he comes to claim Bess as his queen. Since Lord Stanley is married to Tudor’s mother, despite all my threats and incentives I don’t know which faction he’ll support. Morton loathes me and is fully two years into his whispering campaign against me. Everything you’ve seen is the logical consequence of schemes already in motion; but still, you are an inspired visionary. I’m glad you are on my side and not Tudor’s; although if you were, you might be having sweet dreams instead.”
The Court of the Midnight King: A Dream of Richard III Page 44