The Beggar's Throne Page 15

  Samuel nodded his assent. Together they ran deep within the thick of the battleline and fell upon the Lancastrians together. Protecting each other like a unit within the ranks, the guardsmen fought on, protecting the king who was himself in the midst of the fight, his armor and valor an inspiration to them all. Somehow, the line held fast to the edge of the ridge.

  Another hour of desperate fighting had passed when the Yorkists were surprised to find that their right flank was gaining ground. In fact, the troops found new hope when the battleline began to swing around to the north and west, the king’s position at the anchor point. As the battle progressed, the Lancastrian left flank continued to disintegrate, more and more of the Lancastrian soldiers from that area breaking ranks and fleeing to the north or down into the Cock Valley to find refuge. It was then that a young captain rode up to the king.

  “My Liege, the Duke of Norfolk commends himself to Your Grace, and although he has taken ill of a sudden and was not able to make the journey himself, has sent his best men to assist your holy cause, and we place ourselves at your service.” Norfolk’s men had already fallen on the unsuspecting and exhausted left flank of the Lancastrian army, explaining its collapse and the resulting shift of the battleline.

  “You are welcome to the fray, captain,” yelled Edward over the battle din. “Instruct your men to push the enemy as far as they can toward the river.”

  “As you command, Sire.”

  Renewed by the excellent tidings, Edward spurred his men on. Some time later, it was the Lancastrian army that found itself on the edge of the plateau looking down at the River Cock, and seeing many of their fellow soldiers fleeing, the rest of the army followed suit.

  Closely pursued by the victors, the Lancastrian soldiers tried desperately to find a way to the north. Attempting to cross the Cock, they were cut down by the hundreds until a bridge of dead bodies dammed the water. Using their dead comrades as steppingstones, the queen’s men gained the west bank and continued their flight toward York, but the Yorkists remained on their heels the entire way. By late afternoon the Dintingdale Valley and the road to York were littered with the bodies of Lancastrian soldiers, their blood deep in the mud and snow. Miles downstream, where the Cock emptied into the River Wharfe, farmers saw the waters run red.

  At the edge of the plateau over the valley, Samuel watched as Yorkist footsoldiers pillaged the bodies, seeking valuables that would make the risk of their lives worthwhile. Exhausted by sheer effort of hand-to-hand combat for so many hours, he found that he could not mourn for so many lost souls, though there was a time only a short number of years ago that he would have wept to see such carnage. He stumbled by himself among the piles of dead not knowing where he should be, when he noticed the glitter of a finer suit of armor. Stumbling over the dead and injured, he noticed a knight of some stature under several other bodies. There was something familiar about the colors…

  He pushed the bodies aside and looked with horror at the face of Henry Percy, third Earl of Northumberland, staring up at him with dead eyes. Eyes that accused him of treason against he who had trained and fed him for the past three years and should therefore have expected loyalty from him. Samuel fell to his knees and buried his face in his hands.

  A strong hand rested on his shoulder. Sir Julian regarded him sadly.

  “I know what you must feel, my boy. The earl and I fought together in better times, and if there were a nobler knight than he, I know not who it would be.” He motioned for some of his men to come near. “Come and bear this noble soldier gently to the king, and tell him for me that it is his enemy, Northumberland. Go.” When they had carried the body off, he helped Samuel to his feet and walked with him to a clear area where the guard was gathering to give thanks for their victory. They passed dozens of bodies and wounded men, many moaning in their final death struggle.

  “You must realize that greater men than you or I are faced with the same difficult decision these days. Who can tell anymore where honor begins and duty ends? We used to live by the code of Arthur and all seemed so clear, but now we travel roads that lead us into hell everywhere we turn.”

  Samuel stopped and turned toward him. “I did not learn from the same teachers as you, Sir Julian. I was taught to obey and to be happy with my station in life. And I was. Until I left Northwood and saw how those nobler than myself lived.” He turned and continued walking. “Now I have no place I can truly call home.”

  At the gathering of the king’s guard, Father Dennis led them in prayers of gratitude. Beyond, bodies were carried to waiting wagons, where they were heaped by the dozens and loaded away to mass burial sites somewhere to the north of town.

  CHAPTER X

  Lord Rivers knelt before Queen Margaret, worried that the news from Towton would send her into a fury. Instead, she simply sat on her throne apparently oblivious to his presence. All around her, servants of the royal household were making frantic preparations to leave, packing only what a few wagons could carry. It was essential that they travel swiftly, as the Yorkists would surely be in pursuit.

  “Clifford, Northumberland, and Trollope, all dead?” asked Margaret in disbelief.

  “Yes, my queen,” he said sadly.

  “The very props of our throne are gone then.” Suddenly her vision focused. “Who is tending to our son?”

  “The Duke of Somerset, Majesty.”

  “We have only one place left in this world where our bones will be safe from the vultures of war. Attend to my husband and see that he is not detained by his musings. We must depart for Scotland this very hour, and pray that God will find us safe haven in that desolate place.” She left the room, attended only by her French priest, the departure barely noted by those who were busy packing trunks.

  Rivers’ son Anthony came in to find him, and Rivers took him aside.

  “She has decided to flee to Scotland.”

  “As we knew she would. Are we still in agreement?”

  “We are,” responded Rivers with conviction. “We will gather with the family at Grafton and await our fate.”

  “At least if we’re to die, it will be in our home and not in some dreary moor of Scotland. I will not run from Edward like a rabbit from the fox.”

  “Let’s away then, and leave the former king and queen to their destiny.”

  An hour later, the former royal family and their escort slowly slogged out of York over roads thick with mud, defeat, and death. King Henry followed his wife and son on his white stallion, a gift from the Duke of Burgundy when Henry was a young man visiting Paris. He had named it Gabriel after the Archangel. He leaned over and stroked the horse’s neck.

  “Fear not, my constant friend,” he whispered in its ear. “From dust were we made, and dust we shall surely be.” Snow drove against their backs, the wind pushing them northward.

  *

  King Edward and his army arrived at the gates of York two days later. Warwick and his brother Montagu rode at the front of the column with the king, Samuel and the guard immediately behind. The citizens of York, being understandably apprehensive about how the new king would treat them, turned out en masse to welcome their new monarch with all the pomp they could arrange. As the king and his party approached the gate, it was opened before them and the mayor stepped forth from the crowd of dignitaries to greet them.

  “My gracious king, we welcome you to our fair city and beg that you forgive any favors that we bestowed upon those who once called themselves king and queen. We are but common subjects and cannot easily refuse those who arrive at our gates with puissance.”

  Edward was about to respond when he saw the wall over the main gate, called the Micklegate Bar. There, the rotted, empty eye sockets of his brother Edmund’s face stared down at him from a pike. Next to Edmund was his father’s and that of Warwick and Montagu’s father, the Earl of Salisbury.

&n
bsp; “Take them down!” ordered Edward. He was furious.

  The dreaded look of retribution shook the mayor to his soul. Not realizing to what the king was referring, the mayor strained to see what had angered him. When it dawned on him that the heads of the great Duke of York and his kin had not been removed from the walls where the queen had placed them, he suspected that his life might pay the forfeit for the oversight. He jumped to his feet and frantically directed some of the townspeople on the wall to retrieve the heads. When they had been carefully lowered and placed in caskets before the king, Father Dennis was summoned to say the last rites. Edward knelt and prayed in silence.

  To his chagrin, Samuel realized that he was becoming accustomed to such barbarism. Only a few years had passed since he was an innocent young boy playing in the glades of Northwood. He thanked God that Oliver and Sally were not here to see this. They were in the rear of the column, which would take another day to arrive.

  “Carry them with dignity to York Minster,” commanded Edward after he had finished his devotions. “And bring me the remains of Lord Clifford. His head shall replace these, and there it shall remain until God takes the wall down from under it.”

  They marched to the cathedral, where mass was said for those who had perished and thanks given to God for their glorious victory. Afterward, food was brought from all over town to feast the king’s party, who celebrated a hard-won crown. Samuel slept with his new comrades of the king’s guard, hoping that Edward would remember his promise to a poor peasant family and see Sally and Oliver safely back to Northwood.

  *

  For the next three weeks, the king stayed in York while contingents of his army marched through Yorkshire subduing pockets of resistance and exacting tribute and oaths of loyalty from the towns and nobility. Disturbing news arrived from the north that Margaret and Henry had reached the court of James III of Scotland, and that she had been promised military aid by the Scots. Edward summoned Nigel of Devon the morning that the news arrived. The king had commandeered the bishop of York’s private townhouse, a splendid manor located on a high promontory on the edge of town. Nigel was brought without delay to Edward, who was busy at that moment discussing strategy with Warwick and Montagu.

  “Nigel,” the king’s face lit up at the sight of his favorite scout. “We hope that you’ve enjoyed your stay in York as much as we have?”

  “Indeed I have, Your Majesty, though I must confess that I would like to return to my home. My wife has not seen me for months.”

  “We plan on returning to London soon, and when we do, you’ll have our good leave to return to your family with our best wishes. But first we would hear your advice on an issue that causes us great concern. Come, walk with us.” Arm in arm, Edward led him over to a map on a table.

  “The Lancastrian pretender to our throne has ceded Berwick Castle to the Scots for their promises of aid,” he pointed to a spot on the eastern shore just south of the border between the two kingdoms. “My blood boils at the thought of Berwick in Scottish hands, but the vile deed is done. You were my eyes on the Scottish border until just recently. What do you think are the chances that James will make war on us?”

  “My lord, as you know, James does not have the support of many of his greatest lords. In my view, it will be difficult for the Scots to muster a force of any real size, but I would not disavow the possibility of a small Scottish army being augmented by troops from France. However remote the possibility, we should be prepared.”

  Edward thought for a moment as he stared at the map. “We agree. The Castles of Northumberland are still held against us, and could provide safe havens for any such incursion. Until we secure the northern counties, we must be vigilant.” He led Nigel to where Warwick and Montagu had been carrying on a private discussion. “My lords,” he addressed the Nevilles, “it is our wish to acquaint the realm with their new king, and we therefore propose to return to London after visiting as many of the midland counties as time will permit. However, we cannot leave the north unguarded. We therefore propose to leave you both here as guardians of our realm until the Northumbrian castles have been secured. The army is at your disposal, as we will need only our guard and a few others.”

  “A wise policy, my lord,” Warwick said. “We will bring these castles under your sway with all possible haste, and will meet you back in London when the deed is done.”

  “Now Nigel,” said Edward, turning back to the scout, “return to your family. You have our leave with our thanks.”

  “If I may be so bold, Your Highness, may I speak of one more matter?” Edward nodded his consent. “If you will recall, the commoners who saved my life — and did you great service at Towton, I have heard — are still here in York awaiting the assistance that you promised them.”

  “I do recall that, and confess that I had forgot them. What is it that they wish of me?”

  “Only safe passage to their village in Northumberland, my lord.”

  “I will dispatch two of my personal guard to accompany them, but they must return within the fortnight. Make that clear to the captain. Come with us now and enjoy some of the bishop’s wine. He has an excellent collection.” As the king and Nigel left the room, the Neville lords bowed their heads until they were alone.

  “This is good, John,” said Warwick. “While the king is out of the way taking his tour of the realm, we will shore up the kingdom for him. By the time we finish here, he will know that he cannot rest without us guarding his borders.”

  “I like these northern lands,” said John. “It may even be that I will convince the king to grant me some of these castles after we have secured them.”

  “With me in London directing the king’s policies, and you in the north to secure our power, we will do well indeed. Everything is proceeding as I have hoped, by God, and I will see to it that you get your northern castles.”

  “I tell you this: I do not share the king’s concern for the Scots. They haven’t the stomach to tangle with us, and French Louis must guard his kingdom from the Duke of Burgundy. Poor Margaret, she will find no help wherever she turns.”

  “And we will sleep well with that knowledge. Come, let’s share some of the bishop’s wine with our new king.”

  *

  “We both know that it’s best this way,” Samuel said, and wished that he really believed it. The country between York and the River Tyne was still perilous to travelers, especially those who favored the new king. Due largely to the loyalty of the Percys to the House of Lancaster, the north counties were not pleased to have a Yorkist on the throne, and many of the towns and villages were still quite hostile and restless.

  Samuel could have chosen to be one of his sister’s guards to Northwood, and Sally had pleaded for him to join them. But he knew that his reception in Northwood would be icy indeed, and he could not bear the thought of facing Christopher. Perhaps some time after the wounds had healed, but not now.

  “But Emma will have her child soon, and you know she wanted you to stand as sponsor at the baptism,” Sally pleaded.

  “The king has only granted the use of the guard for the trip, so I couldn’t stay if I wanted to. Besides, I really doubt that Christopher would allow me that honor anymore. And the two guards that volunteered to go with you are real fighters; you’ll be safer with them than you would be with me.” He put his hand gently on her mouth as she tried to object further. “I really wish things could be different, you know that. Please tell Emma that I miss her and will try to see her soon. Here comes your escort.”

  Two soldiers approached leading four horses by the reins. Both guards wore tunics bearing the king’s new emblem, a Sun-in-Splendor, a representation of the sign they had received from God at Mortimer’s Cross when three suns appeared in the sky before the battle.

  Sally hugged her brother like she would never release him, before finally allowing h
erself to be placed on one of the horses. Oliver asked the guard if he could have a moment with Samuel before they left. He took Samuel aside as if he were too embarrassed to be overheard by anyone else.

  “I know that I will have to acquire the favor of your brother when I get to Northwood, but yours is the opinion that I value.” He cleared his throat and looked at his feet. “If she will have me, and at a time when she has recovered from these horrible days, I would like to make your sister my wife.”

  Samuel did not understand how he had not seen this coming. All the signs were there from the moment they met, and it likely would have happened before now if his own actions had not caused such pain for them all. He did not know if Oliver would be a good husband to his sister, but he had to trust in her judgment.

  “I think Father would be pleased,” he said smiling. “And I know that I am.” They embraced and Oliver jumped lightly onto his horse, as did the guards, their journey home beginning with the first step of the lead horse. When they had drifted slowly out of sight, Samuel turned to join his new comrades. And may you both find the peace that I have lost.

  *

  When King Edward and his entourage left York, he left behind the Nevilles and the bulk of his army. The king’s party journeyed toward London, wending its way slowly through many of the midland and eastern communities including Lichfield, Coventry, Warwick, Daventry, and finally Stony Stratford, only a short ride from Grafton Manor, the home of Lord Rivers.

  Rivers and his son had arrived at Grafton to find Elizabeth already arrived from Bradgate. When they had learned of the Yorkist victory, they waited in dread to hear their fate.

  The dowager Duchess of Bedford, however, had all her life been one of the ablest politicians of the Lancastrian court. When she heard that the king would stay in Stony Stratford for several nights, she sent word to him that Grafton Manor was at his disposal. And to the amazement of her family, he had sent word back accepting her invitation.