The Red Rose of Anjou - Plaidy Jean. Страница 50

‘What will happen now?’ they cried.

‘Disaster for the country,’ answered York.

They were silent. The Great Seal had been taken from Salisbury and given to Bourchier, the Archbishop of Canter-, bury. The Governorship of Calais had been taken from York and given to Somerset. It was the last straw when Somerset had called a Council at Westminster which neither York, Warwick nor Salisbury were invited to attend.

‘Somerset is at the root of all the trouble,’ declared York. ‘But for him, I should have remained at my post.’

‘Do not forget that the Queen stands beside him.’

‘The Queen and Somerset are our enemies, true,’ agreed York. ‘Aye, and the enemies of England.’

‘They must be curbed,’ said Warwick.

‘How?’ asked Salisbury.

The Duke of York was thoughtful. Then he said slowly: ‘Everything we have worked for in the last year is wasted. It might never have happened. We cannot blame the King. He never wanted to take a hand in State affairs before his illness and now...it is clear that he wants to be guided. He is the figurehead but he wants a strong man to decide for him.’

‘And Somerset has taken the role,’ said Salisbury.

‘My lords,’ cried York, ‘Somerset is our enemy. We must rid ourselves of Somerset. That is all I ask. The King is King...the crowned King. I do not want to displace him. But he is unfit to rule and if we are going to save this country from its enemies and bring it prosperity we must have strong rule.’

The others were in agreement with that.

‘And how shall we enforce it?’ asked Warwick.

‘We must prepare ourselves for conflict.’

‘You mean fight? Civil war?’

‘We shall not be fighting against the King. I want to make that understood. We shall march. Show our strength and demand the removal of Somerset.’

Warwick was watching York steadily. ‘It is the only way,’ he said. ‘This has been brewing since that scene in Temple Gardens. It had to come to a head. It could be war.’

‘It must not come to that,’ insisted York.

‘A war of the red and white roses,’ said Salisbury.

‘I want no war,’ went on York. ‘I want Somerset removed from power, the Queen to realize that she cannot rule us, and a good strong government to take over until the King recovers full sanity or the Prince of Wales is old enough to rule.’

‘It shall be our task to bring about that happy state,’ said Salisbury.

###

At Westminster the King and Margaret heard that York had gathered together an army, that he had been joined by Warwick and Salisbury, and was preparing to march south.

Somerset had hurried to them to tell them the news. The light of battle was in his eyes. He was thinking that perhaps here was the opportunity to settle for ever with his enemy of York.

The King was distressed. ‘Marching!’ he cried. ‘What does he want to march for?’

The Queen tried to hide her exasperation. When would Henry realize that everyone was not kind and gentle like himself?

She burst out: ‘Because he sees himself as King. He wants to put you from the throne and take it for himself.’

‘No, no, my dear lady, York does not mean that. He is angry because he was not asked to the Council. Perhaps, my dear Edmund, we should have included him.’

‘Nay, nay, my lord,’ soothed Somerset. ‘The Queen knows that we have to be watchful of your enemies.’

‘So he is marching south,’ said Margaret.

‘I daresay he hopes to reach London.’

Margaret understood. York was popular in London. During his Protectorate trade had flourished. Trade was all these merchants thought about. London would be for York and she knew what the Londoners could be like when aroused. They were an army in themselves.

‘What we shall have to do,’ said Somerset, ‘is march north to meet them.’

Henry frowned but he was too tired to raise objections, and readily Margaret agreed with Somerset.

‘My lord,’ said Somerset, ‘you should march with your army.’

Henry was very sorrowful but he made no protests.

‘Oh God,’ thought Margaret, ‘I would I were a man. I would be there at the head of my army. I would bring this traitor York to justice.’

She realized she could not march with the army.

She said quietly: ‘I will take the Prince to Greenwich.’ She turned to Somerset. ‘There I shall eagerly await the news. I must know at once when the traitor York is in your hands.’

‘You shall hear with all speed, my lady,’ Somerset promised.

‘I trust it may be soon.’

Her mouth had hardened, and she clenched her hands as she thought what punishment she would inflict on this man who had dared to challenge the crown.

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Beside the Duke of York rode his eldest son Edward. The boy was thirteen, young perhaps to ride out in what could well become a battle, but Edward was a precocious boy and had been from his early childhood. A son to be proud of, thought York—with a great deal of his mother in him. And best of all he had those fair, handsome Plantagenet looks. He was a Little wild, but only as boys should be, even at his age casting a speculative eye on the women and his father had heard that he had already indulged in a few adventures. Over young, perhaps. But in such times a boy must grow up quickly.

He was proud of young Edward. He wanted him to understand the position. He talked to him as they rode along.

He trusted there would be no conflict, he said. What they really wanted to do was show strength and by so doing remind their enemies that they could be a force to be reckoned with. ‘If we can drive that home without bloodshed, so much the better,’ he said.

Edward listened. He believed his father should be King. His mother had said so often enough. Edward admired his father almost to idolatry, and to be riding beside him on an occasion like this filled him with pride. Secretly he hoped there would be a battle. He wanted to distinguish himself, to make his father proud of him.

‘The King is ill advised,’ went on York. ‘The Queen is against us and she works with the Duke of Somerset who has done great harm to this country.’

Edward listened avidly. He hoped he would come face to face with the Duke of Somerset. He would cut off his head with his sword and present that head to his father.

‘Always remember,’ said the Duke, ‘never to indulge in battle unless it is the last resort.’

‘Yes, my lord,’ said Edward, still dreaming of Somerset’s head.

The Duke was dismayed when he heard that the King was marching north at the head of an army to meet him. This was the doing of Somerset and the Queen. Henry would never willingly have ridden out to battle.

The Duke discussed with Warwick and Salisbury what should be done.

‘There will be bloodshed if the armies clash,’ said York. ‘This will be the opening battle of a civil war. The King does not want that any more than we do.’

‘Somerset wants it. The Queen wants it.’

‘Somerset knows that we are going to ask the King to hand him over to us. He must be impeached. We have to save the country. That is all we ask. Then we shall form a Council and rule under the King.’

‘The Queen won’t give up her favourite and Somerset will certainly do everything to prevent himself falling into our hands.’

‘I want to let the King know that this is no battle against him. It is no fight for the crown. I want him to know that we are loyal subjects, devoted to the welfare of our country and because of this we cannot stand aside and allow it to be ruined.’

By the time they had reached the Hertfordshire town of Ware Richard had made up his mind that he must let the King know his true intentions. When a subject—and such a subject—set himself at the head of what could be called a small army it might well seem that he was intent on making war.

The King must understand.

He wrote to Henry. He explained clearly that he had not wavered in his loyalty to him. His grievance was that he had been excluded from the government by the Duke of Somerset who had charges to answer for. Every man who rode with him was loyal to the King.