Searching for a King
5
1485
Henry Tudor wasted no time, entering the hall without pause as his uncle summoned him. He scanned the great room, eyes fixing on his uncle, dark eyes filled deep with hate looking over the man who kneeled before him. Neither man spoke, nor looked to Henry as he approached, silently taking in the sight before him. The man upon the floor looked tired, aging and dressed in clothes which were torn, though clothes which were once those of a nobleman. He could not help but wonder, in their few days return from France and Brittany, in the mere hours they had to prepare before the usurper King Richard bore down upon them, whatever was his uncle doing dallying away their time with a common peasant of little value and less importance? However had his uncle become united with the serf creature anyway? Henry jumped as his uncle spoke, a voice rough, course with anger he tried desperately to restrain. "Your Grace, if it pleases you to come forward, to meet our guest." It was now Henry noticed a sight which before he had not. Sat silently, deathly pale in the corner of the room sat his mother, the woman's hands shook, her mouth opened and closed miming words he could not decipher.
"Uncle who be this man, and why do we-" he said no more as his uncle forced the mans head up, so dark Tudor eyes met the light eyes of a true Plantagenet. Henry stumbled, his hand finding the table to gain his balance. "It cannot be, he is dead two years since." Henry looked to his mother, she had not moved, had barely breathed since he had walked into the room.
"So we all thought." Jasper sent Edward's head down, adding a punch. The old king spluttered, coughing and spitting teeth slick with blooded saliva, cold eyes running over Jasper Tudor with a hate returned to him.
"Do not hit him uncle! He is an anointed king!" Henry stepped forward, pushing back the uncle all his life he had so respected. Kneeling he lifted Edward's head checking the gap where the teeth had been. "Uncle are you ignorant to the fate which occurs to those who harm the body of God's most important servant? Who willingly place harm upon England's anointed king? God help, for you will make him wrath!"
"Then the man who you do tend to, fairs no better than your uncle Jasper Henry, for he did kill his own king, knowingly so and led his prince and queen to their graves. All in the name of justice, it was needless slaughter and he deserves none of the mercy he begs from you." Margaret spoke for the first time, in a voice thick with guilt and pain. She could not look to the man who once she had served, who once she had been forced to accept as her king, her ruler. The shivering mass of pity upon the floor. She shuddered under the gaze of her son, a gaze which spoke his disapproval.
"Lady mother he does not beg! Does not say a word!" Henry stopped, falling silent as cold hands touched his. He heard the almost silent blessing in regal Latin. Felt the old kings lips touch his own hand, and the words he had far from expected to hear leave his mouth.
"Henry, my King. I come and do beseech you. Oh merciful lord of holy ordinance. I pledge to thee my absolute loyalty, to serve you and die for you, to shed my blood in place of your own. Grant me speak freely?" Henry said nothing, only placed his hands over Edwards, offering a stunned nod. "My brother Richard, the usurping king has taken his power not for good, nor justice but for cruel and cold control. His grace, my son, King Edward, God protect his soul, was dispatched from this earth at the hand of he was sword to protect him. Richard, Duke of York, also. It is sin, my lord, we cannot forgive. For he shames the House of York and all its standing. To you I offer my support, and with me come a hundred men to the battle about to ensue, for God knows my lord you shall be in need of them."
"A thousand from the Yorkist brat and we may accept-" Jasper broke off as Margaret raised her hand, standing and approaching she stood before her oldest enemy. Offering her hand to raise him to his feet indicating a chair, pouring wine she waited, watching as he drank with a thirst unquenched for days.
"Tell me Edward, how many men does King Richard have?"
"Around ten thousand."
"And he is aware of your existence?"
"He believes I will fight for him, to keep York on the throne."
"Why will you not?"
"For either way madam, I am to live in obscurity, which i would rather do under Lancaster's rule."
"Obscurity?" Jasper slammed a fist onto the table. "I'd have you drawn and quartered for all you did to us! At the least I'd see you exiled!"
"Silence!!" Henry turned to his uncle. "Let lady mother speak."
"He killed his kin, I do not deny, if you yourself do not. Men are needed, sorely so and every hand does count. A hundred men may be substantial, if also you could his lord, my husband Stanley to reconcile with the true royal blood."
"I hold no influence, no place at court no-"
"But you hold your name, your image, as fine as ever it was if only for a change of attire. It has been long since you have fought, sure you are you can still hold a sword?"
"And swing an axe as ever I could. I would be a fresh to the field as that fateful day at Towton."
"Then indeed, if once again you could slay a thousand with a red rose upon your breast then surely we would be happy to take you. The decision is my sons however."
"Have him fed." Henry spoke with authority. "Bread, cheese and meat of fine quality, wine and clothes to be fetched also. And uncle, I need not tell you, be loathe to touch him for should he die I shall lay it upon your head, which by my rule you shall forfeit. He shall sleep close by. My lord, enjoy your stay and make reconcile with my lord Stanley."
Henry Tudor wasted no time, entering the hall without pause as his uncle summoned him. He scanned the great room, eyes fixing on his uncle, dark eyes filled deep with hate looking over the man who kneeled before him. Neither man spoke, nor looked to Henry as he approached, silently taking in the sight before him. The man upon the floor looked tired, aging and dressed in clothes which were torn, though clothes which were once those of a nobleman. He could not help but wonder, in their few days return from France and Brittany, in the mere hours they had to prepare before the usurper King Richard bore down upon them, whatever was his uncle doing dallying away their time with a common peasant of little value and less importance? However had his uncle become united with the serf creature anyway? Henry jumped as his uncle spoke, a voice rough, course with anger he tried desperately to restrain. "Your Grace, if it pleases you to come forward, to meet our guest." It was now Henry noticed a sight which before he had not. Sat silently, deathly pale in the corner of the room sat his mother, the woman's hands shook, her mouth opened and closed miming words he could not decipher.
"Uncle who be this man, and why do we-" he said no more as his uncle forced the mans head up, so dark Tudor eyes met the light eyes of a true Plantagenet. Henry stumbled, his hand finding the table to gain his balance. "It cannot be, he is dead two years since." Henry looked to his mother, she had not moved, had barely breathed since he had walked into the room.
"So we all thought." Jasper sent Edward's head down, adding a punch. The old king spluttered, coughing and spitting teeth slick with blooded saliva, cold eyes running over Jasper Tudor with a hate returned to him.
"Do not hit him uncle! He is an anointed king!" Henry stepped forward, pushing back the uncle all his life he had so respected. Kneeling he lifted Edward's head checking the gap where the teeth had been. "Uncle are you ignorant to the fate which occurs to those who harm the body of God's most important servant? Who willingly place harm upon England's anointed king? God help, for you will make him wrath!"
"Then the man who you do tend to, fairs no better than your uncle Jasper Henry, for he did kill his own king, knowingly so and led his prince and queen to their graves. All in the name of justice, it was needless slaughter and he deserves none of the mercy he begs from you." Margaret spoke for the first time, in a voice thick with guilt and pain. She could not look to the man who once she had served, who once she had been forced to accept as her king, her ruler. The shivering mass of pity upon the floor. She shuddered under the gaze of her son, a gaze which spoke his disapproval.
"Lady mother he does not beg! Does not say a word!" Henry stopped, falling silent as cold hands touched his. He heard the almost silent blessing in regal Latin. Felt the old kings lips touch his own hand, and the words he had far from expected to hear leave his mouth.
"Henry, my King. I come and do beseech you. Oh merciful lord of holy ordinance. I pledge to thee my absolute loyalty, to serve you and die for you, to shed my blood in place of your own. Grant me speak freely?" Henry said nothing, only placed his hands over Edwards, offering a stunned nod. "My brother Richard, the usurping king has taken his power not for good, nor justice but for cruel and cold control. His grace, my son, King Edward, God protect his soul, was dispatched from this earth at the hand of he was sword to protect him. Richard, Duke of York, also. It is sin, my lord, we cannot forgive. For he shames the House of York and all its standing. To you I offer my support, and with me come a hundred men to the battle about to ensue, for God knows my lord you shall be in need of them."
"A thousand from the Yorkist brat and we may accept-" Jasper broke off as Margaret raised her hand, standing and approaching she stood before her oldest enemy. Offering her hand to raise him to his feet indicating a chair, pouring wine she waited, watching as he drank with a thirst unquenched for days.
"Tell me Edward, how many men does King Richard have?"
"Around ten thousand."
"And he is aware of your existence?"
"He believes I will fight for him, to keep York on the throne."
"Why will you not?"
"For either way madam, I am to live in obscurity, which i would rather do under Lancaster's rule."
"Obscurity?" Jasper slammed a fist onto the table. "I'd have you drawn and quartered for all you did to us! At the least I'd see you exiled!"
"Silence!!" Henry turned to his uncle. "Let lady mother speak."
"He killed his kin, I do not deny, if you yourself do not. Men are needed, sorely so and every hand does count. A hundred men may be substantial, if also you could his lord, my husband Stanley to reconcile with the true royal blood."
"I hold no influence, no place at court no-"
"But you hold your name, your image, as fine as ever it was if only for a change of attire. It has been long since you have fought, sure you are you can still hold a sword?"
"And swing an axe as ever I could. I would be a fresh to the field as that fateful day at Towton."
"Then indeed, if once again you could slay a thousand with a red rose upon your breast then surely we would be happy to take you. The decision is my sons however."
"Have him fed." Henry spoke with authority. "Bread, cheese and meat of fine quality, wine and clothes to be fetched also. And uncle, I need not tell you, be loathe to touch him for should he die I shall lay it upon your head, which by my rule you shall forfeit. He shall sleep close by. My lord, enjoy your stay and make reconcile with my lord Stanley."