A King's Betrayal

by Sole, Linda

  ‘How? I do not understand you.’

  Isolde smiled. ‘If it is written we shall meet again. Take care in all you do, Beth. You have a beautiful child and I believe there may be great happiness in the future for both you and the babe.’

  As Beth watched she opened the door and went out, closing it carefully behind her. Beth felt a pang of loss. Isolde had shown her more kindness than she had known for most of her life. She wished the woman might have stayed with her a little longer, but she would not let herself regret anything. Kneeling down by the rush basket, she looked at her child and smiled. Katharine was all she needed to make her happy.

  She had long since ceased to look for the knight who had lain with her near the pool. He would never return to her – why should he? Their loving had seemed magical, sweet and special, but no doubt to him she was just a whore. He had taken what he wanted and gone, leaving her to face the hardship of bearing a child alone in these woods.

  ‘Yet he gave me you,’ Beth said and bent down to kiss her child’s face. ‘I am no longer alone. I have you and I shall do whatever I need to do to make you safe.’

  Thirty Five

  ‘Will you be with us?’ Hugh de Bracie asked. He frowned, as the other man was silent, thoughtful. ‘You have always said that you have no love for the House of Lancaster. If we are to have Richard’s rightful heir on the throne the time is surely now whilst Henry is preoccupied with his campaign in France.’

  The two men sat in an ill-lit corner of an inn by the waterfront. It was night and outside the waters of the Thames were black and silent, the traffic of the day done as darkness fell. The hostelry had been chosen for its isolation and because the landlord was to be trusted and would make sure they were not overheard.

  ‘Why are you involved in this affair?’ Sir William was wary as his fingers played with the horn cup that held his ale. ‘I know you were for King Richard in the old days but you went over to the usurper soon after he left Conway and was imprisoned.’

  ‘The cause was lost then, and most of the barons were for Henry Bolingbroke but things are different now,’ Sir Hugh replied. ‘Roger Mortimer is dead but Edmund, the young Earl of March, is alive and has his freedom. Many of the barons regret that the House of Lancaster still rules and will flock to us once Henry is dead. We have Earl Richard of Cambridge, Scrope and Lord Grey on board and I believe we may be successful this time. Henry is determined to reopen the war with France and most of us are weary of such strife. We would have peace – a young King who listens to his advisers and contents himself with the pleasures of court rather than seeking glory in battle.’

  ‘You mean a puppet his council can control.’

  What is wrong with that? It might be better for England rather than an ambitious king who thinks only of glory for himself.’

  ‘What of Mortimer himself? Has he pledged his support for the uprising?’

  ‘He is being informed and will no doubt accept his destiny. Why should he not? The crown was left to the Mortimers in Richard’s will, for they were the closest to him in spirit and family.’

  ‘It is a pity that Richard had no children of his own. Had there been a child I think most of England would rise for him.’

  ‘Well, it would not have been Richard’s wish and though a daughter could be Queen it is unlikely men would rise for her – of course she might have wed one of the Mortimers and made the succession that much stronger.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ William stared at him, eyes narrowing in suspicion. ‘I do not follow you. Anne of Bohemia gave Richard no children…were there bastards? Richard did not legitimise them in a will?’

  Sir Hugh hesitated, then inclined his head, an odd expression in his eyes. ‘He may have come close to it. I dare say it does not matter now if I speak. My sister Beatrice was Richard’s mistress after his first wife died. She gave him a daughter and there was a stillborn son.’

  ‘Good grief!’ William was stunned. ‘Where is the girl? If her birth could be proven an alliance between her and one of Richard’s heirs might secure the throne.’

  ‘Elspeth was stolen from her mother soon after Richard was murdered. Beatrice and her husband believed that she was taken to stop a rising in her name – or some such alliance as you suggest.’

  ‘Are you saying that the usurper had her murdered?’

  ‘I cannot say for we have never known what happened to her after she was stolen. The rogues that snatched her allowed her to wander off while they raped a serving woman. Lord Tomas offered a reward for information but none was forthcoming. They accepted that she was dead but of late…’ Sir Hugh shook his head. ‘My sister has some idea that she lives and her husband has begun the search again, though I think it unlikely she will be found after all this time.’

  ‘How old was she when she was snatched?’

  ‘Not quite five years. Elspeth was a beautiful bright intelligent girl. She looked like my sister but had something of her father about her.’

  ‘So she would be almost twenty now…’

  ‘Aye, if she lived. For myself I doubt it. I think she died when she was a child. Surely someone would have come forward when Tomas offered a reward for information if she had lived.’

  ‘I dare say you are right,’ William replied. ‘It cannot matter for the earl is England’s rightful King.’

  ‘Then are you with us?’

  ‘Had you asked me sooner I might have joined you,’ William said. ‘Gloucester offered me a place with his men for the coming invasion of France. I took his gold and cannot therefore renege on my bargain. I wish you well in the venture. Had you assured me that Mortimer was ready to become King I might have joined you, but a knight must keep his vow of allegiance. Perhaps when the fight with France is done…’

  ‘It will be too late then.’ Sir Hugh frowned. ‘You disappoint me. I had thought you would be with us.’

  ‘I am not against you. No word of this shall leave my lips. You have my promise of that, sir.’

  ‘And what I told you in confidence?’

  ‘Shall remain so. Since the child was lost it can hardly matter, as you said.’

  ‘When do you join Gloucester?’

  ‘The invasion is planned for next month I believe.’

  ‘Then I wish you good fortune.’

  ‘I am sorry to disappoint you.’ William offered his hand and after a moment’s hesitation, Sir Hugh took it. ‘Should your plan succeed – and I shall pray for it – I shall of course support you.’

  ‘We may need your prayers, though I think Henry suspects nothing and that is half the battle. Once he is dead, Mortimer is certain to be the people’s choice.’ Sir Hugh nodded. ‘Where do you go now?’

  ‘I was on my way home when I received your message. The war with France is likely to be bloody. A man must put his house in order.’

  ‘If our plans succeed you may find that yours will change,’ Sir Hugh said. ‘I think we shall meet again soon, Sir William.’

  ‘Perhaps, if God wills it.’

  William nodded his head and took his leave. Already he was thinking of his home and what he meant to do there – of Beth. He had not seen her since Marthe’s death. How did she fare alone in the woods?

  It was hot even in the woods. Beth had taken her child to the pool so that she could bathe her daughter and refresh herself. This was the best time of the year, because there were plenty of young rabbits to be taken and roots to make a good nourishing broth for the pot. As she approached the hut where she still lived with her babe, she saw that a horse had been tied to the branch of a tree close by and a tingle went down her spine. For one joyful moment she thought it might be her Knight of the Raven, but then she saw him leave her hut and knew him.

  Some protective instinct made her place the child on the ground out of his sight, wrapping her about with the soft shawl in which she usually carried Katharine slung across her body. She did not think Sir William would harm her, but it was best to keep her secret for the moment.

&nb
sp; ‘Why did you enter my hut?’ she asked, a little angry that he should do so in her absence. ‘I have nothing to steal.’

  ‘I would not steal from you, Beth. I wanted to give you a present in case. ‘Tis just a few coins…I wanted to make sure you were not starving or in need.’

  ‘You need not have troubled yourself, my lord.’

  ‘I have told you before. My name is Sir William – William to you, if you will have it so.’

  ‘I think of you as the lord, everyone does. You are powerful and we all bow our heads to you.’

  William laughed. ‘You would not think me powerful if you knew anything of the world outside this wood, Beth. I am a mere knight and of little consequence. I am not even rich. I have sold my services to the Duke of Gloucester for money – money that will ensure my estate does not founder immediately should I not return from the war and my cousins inherit.’

  ‘You are to fight the French?’

  ‘What do you know of the war?’ He looked amused. ‘I thought you lived alone here?’

  ‘Most of the time I am alone,’ Beth said. ‘Sometimes Mistress Grey visits me – and if I have a little money I visit the fair or a market. I have heard people say that the King is set on war with France once more.’

  ‘Where does your money come from?’

  ‘I have sold things that belonged to Marthe. She has no use for them and I must have food for…’ Beth broke off, because she did not wish to tell him of the child. She had thought she might leave the babe with Mistress Grey if she went to him at the castle, but he was going to war. She might never see him again. ‘Why does the King want to make war against the French? What have the people done to anger him?’

  ‘It is a question of ancient rights and who should rule France. Henry believes that the throne belongs to England and therefore to him.’

  ‘It is hard for the people to be always at war. Mistress Grey told me that some of the young men from villages close by were rounded up by their lords and made to fight in the last wars. Will you take the young men of our village with you?’

  ‘Are you concerned for your sweetheart, Beth?’

  She caught the note of jealousy in his voice and shook her head. ‘You should know that I have no sweetheart in the village. They think I am the daughter of a witch and may practice the dark arts myself.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘No. I told you, Marthe was not my mother. She let me believe it but it was not so. I know how to make simple cures but I have no magic.’

  ‘Who was your mother?’ William frowned, remembering something Sir Hugh had said to him recently. ‘Did you tell me that Marthe found you wandering in a wood?’

  ‘She said something of the kind once, but I do not know the truth. When I was little she said that men were searching for us and would kill us if they found us.’

  ‘Why would someone want to kill you?’

  ‘I do not know.’

  ‘Have you no memory of what your life was before you came here?’

  For a moment she was tempted to tell him of the castle and the man with a gentle smile, who sometimes wore a gold band about his forehead, but she held her tongue. Sir William had been kind to her the day that they buried Marthe, but she could not forget what he had done to her in Mistress Soames’s cottage. Yet he would not believe her if she told him that she might be the daughter of a lady who lived in a castle much like his own.

  ‘No, Sir William. None that I recall.’

  ‘Well, I dare say it does not matter.’ He moved towards her. Beth took a step backwards and he halted. ‘Do not be afraid of me. I shall not harm you. I am sorry for what happened that day, Beth. If I could I would go back and change what happened, but I cannot.’

  ‘It is forgotten. You were my friend the day they killed Marthe.’

  ‘I would be your friend again if you would let me.’ He hesitated, then, ‘If I return – will you come to me at the castle?’

  ‘Perhaps. I am not sure that I can trust you. What will happen to me when you tire of me?’

  William smiled. ‘It would never happen, Beth. You are always with me, in my thoughts and my heart, whatever I do. Think about it please.’

  ‘Very well, I shall consider my answer.’

  ‘You will find a purse of coins in your hut. Use them to live while I am gone – and take your cottage. It is yours and I should feel happier if you lived in the village.’

  ‘I am not sure that I should be welcome there.’

  ‘I shall leave orders that you are to be left in peace – but I shall not force you. If I return I shall ask you for your answer, Beth.’

  ‘When you return I will answer you.’

  ‘Then God be with you.’

  ‘And with you, my lord.’

  William sighed. ‘I shall never make you say my name, shall I?’

  ‘Perhaps one day – if I come to you.’

  Thirty Six

  William was packing his saddlebags. Most of his baggage had been sent ahead the previous day and in another hour or so he would leave for the Solent, where the King’s ships had been gathering for months past. He had pledged to join Gloucester’s ship by the following day so as to be ready for the order, which would surely come soon. The fleet had been gathering in hundreds of small inlets and creeks along the Hampshire coast while the vessels were prepared, kept as secret as possible so that the French should not be alerted to the strength of the invasion force.

  ‘Tell the men that wish to come with me to be ready,’ he barked the order at his steward. ‘I shall leave within the hour.’

  ‘Yes, my lord. Would you like food before you go?’

  ‘I shall not stay to eat. We shall take fresh bread and cheese with us for the journey for I do not mean to stop.’

  The steward inclined his head and left. William went over to the window and looked down on the scene below. Men from the village and surrounding district had flocked to the castle for the offer of the money he had promised their families. He would have a fighting force of at least twenty men-at-arms and the ten pikemen and five archers he had promised Gloucester he would bring with him. However, he had delayed longer than he’d intended and would need to move quickly or they might get left behind for he’d received an urgent message only that morning.

  Hearing a muffled sound behind him, he turned to inquire what his steward needed and found himself facing Sir Hugh de Bracie. From his appearance it was obvious that he had travelled swiftly and in some distress.

  ‘What has happened?’

  ‘We failed,’ Hugh said. ‘Someone went to the King and told him of our plans. Cambridge and the others have been arrested. I was on my way to join them but was warned that things had gone awry.’

  ‘I give you my word that I did not betray you.’

  ‘I was told that it was Mortimer himself. I think he feared what might happen if we failed and sought to protect his own head at the expense of his friends.’

  William nodded. ‘It was the reason I did not join you, sir. The earl has reason to be grateful to Henry and I wondered if he would have the stomach for it. I am sorry your plan failed but not surprised.’ William frowned. ‘What will you do now?’

  ‘I must get to France. I am not sure if my name is known, but they will strive to discover all those involved, and some may break under torture. I shall be safer abroad for a time.’

  ‘Join me with Gloucester. If you are questioned and can prove you fought with Henry you may deny all knowledge of the plot and blame your enemies for lying.’

  ‘I will travel with you to the coast. If they look for me they will not expect to find me in your company. I may offer my services to the duke and take my chance in battle. I prefer a soldier’s death to that of a traitor.’

  William crossed himself. ‘I pity Cambridge and the others. Henry hath no mercy for traitors. He is his father’s son in that and their fate is sealed. There is nothing to be done for them. You must save yourself.’

  ‘One day we shall have our
revenge,’ Hugh said grimly, ‘though I may not live to see it. I curse the House of Lancaster.’ He spat on the ground. ‘Thank you for being a friend, de Burgh.’

  ‘You know where my loyalties lie but we must all do what we can to survive in these uncertain times. I have taken Gloucester’s gold and must serve my time with him, but in the future – if the time is right…’

  Hugh clasped his shoulder. ‘One day the house of York will rise again. I know it in my heart, though my head tells me all is lost.’

  ‘What would you have of me, my lord duke?’

  ‘My position is difficult,’ John, called the Fearless, Duke of Burgundy, looked at the knight thoughtfully. ‘Charles is mad and the Dauphin blames me for the murder of his uncle Louis. I helped to negotiate the peace between Charles and Henry’s father two years ago, but there is little love lost between the houses of Valois and Burgundy. I shall allow Charles to think that I support him, but give King Henry my word that I shall take no part in the fighting. No matter what he hears to the contrary, he may rely on this. It is the most I can do for now, though in time I may come over to Henry’s side.’

  ‘I have heard that the English fleet is almost ready to leave. They will be seen off the coast of France within the next few days.’

  ‘My spies will bring me word of their landing. Take my message to Henry when he comes. Shall you join him in his fight?’

  ‘It suits both our interests, my lord duke. If Henry wins you may gain land that was promised you, but if Charles should prevail you may bide your time until another chance comes your way.’