Searching for a King
6
"Run Richard!" He fled, shedding armour in his escape. Scurrying, let run by a man all knew, all trusted. The battlefield was stained with blood and the king lay dead upon the floor. They removed the helmet, a blood stained face recovered and all confirmed it was he.
She tossed and turned in fitful sleep. For years it had plagued her nights and tinted her days.
In wake she knew with fear too deep to mumble the words, that man dead upon the floor was not her uncle, was not Richard.
Another man was dragged from the woods, blood covered armour and thrown to his knees. Jasper Tudor raised his sword, stopped by the man who had fled the battlefield long before the true fighting a start. "Uncle no." No one spoke, the welsh man showed reluctance but lowered the blade, dragging his prisoner to his feet. "Run, for all you help I wish not to see your face again."
She started awake. It was at that point she always did. Now several hours on, queen Elizabeth sat upon her throne and thought in silence. She and Henry never spoke of Bosworth, of what happened to Richard. Yet all she could assume was that he knew the man beneath the armour, that he had spared England's king and Richard roamed free. Made merry in France or Burgundy.
She looked up as the doors opened, men in armour approached. "Your Majesty, prey since your husband is away, we must bring such matters to your attention."
"What is it?"
"We found a man wandering the grounds. Tis treason-"
"Bring him before me. If you must, else lock him in the tower if you-" her words stopped at the familiar shouts. Childhood memories soothed her momentarily before guards, each struggling dragged the man now held in chains. She looked at him, head bowed as they pulled the ring at his neck, she heard the crackle of half choked breaths, his wrists pulled taut behind him and ankles bound tight as he knelt. "He knew my name and used it personally, may I approach?"
"If it pleases her majesty."
She did not need a second time, approaching quickly she lifted the mans head, stumbling backwards tears takin to her eyes in an instant. "Pa-" she whispered the word, it's remainder inaudible by the sudden sobs. She took a moment, gaining her voice. "remove the chains and leave us." She heard the clinks, looked back to see the men still stood. "I said leave!" She approached quickly as the men left, raising her hand bringing it hard across her fathers cheek. "You coward, you whore son you..." She broke off into tears falling to her knees hugging him. "I thought you were dead. We all thought... You gave up your crown, you gave up mother and for what?"
"My daughter to be queen. You always said you would be."
"But you came back.." She paused remembering her dream with now shaking hands. "You fool, Henry cannot-" she was silenced by his finger, placed gently on her lips.
"Sweet Elizabeth worry not."
"Lady mother she-"
"She died in my arms, as was her wish."
"She knew, and kept silent from me."
"I would have lost my head for treason."
"It was you, at Bosworth” He said nothing, had no need to. She nodded stepping away, her fingers touching her lips. Tapping lightly. “Is my uncle alive?”
“I know nothing of how Dickon fairs. But what I did Bess, it was right. It needed to be done, Richard did not deserve to be king, but he did not deserve to die either.” He tried to step forward, stopped as she spun, her mothers eyes baring into him bringing memories to painful to bare. “Bess, you cannot-”
“What you did, right or wrong, is unforgivable You betrayed my husband and you committed treason.” She turned on him suddenly, the strength of a king filling her veins. He gulped, saw within her the Yorkist strength, the Plantagenet vanity He gulped and said nothing, bowing his head. “You cannot be forgiven for this, my father or not. Gaurds!” The men appeared chains in their hands once more, they said nothing. “Seize him, he is to go to the Tower. My husband shall decide his fate when he returns.”
“Bess!”
“Silence!” She stamped her foot as she stared at him. “Take him, without a seconds pause!” With those words she left.
The Tower of London, 6 months later
Elizabeth of York stood behind the curtains, looking at the sight before her. Her father sat silent, eyes fixed upon the man who entered silently, sitting upon the bed. “Your Grace, mayhap I should call you father?”
“Please, Henry I do not aspire to be king, only to see my daughter happy. To see he be queen.”
Henry smiled, nodded. Pulled the knife from hid belt twisting it in his hand. “See, as much as I would like for that my lord I cannot. See, already there are mumblings, potential little uprisings. You thought I would not seek out your brother? That I would not kill him to save my throne, then sir you are a fool.” He lifted the blade, holding it against his throat, pressing hard. Edward gulped, eyes closing, he bit his lip to hold back a whimper; to prevent the Tudor king his simple. Sweet satisfaction. “I am sorry.” With those words, Henry slipped the knife into the old kings ribs. Elizabeth screamed, Henry jumped back. “Wife!”
“Move! You hellspawn! Papa!” She jumped onto the matress, using her skirts to soak blood. “Papa, no.” She heard the wheezing, saw her fathers tears as the last breaths left his lungs. Sobs took over her body, shaking it. She threw off Henry's arm. “Do not! You are dead to me husband. Dead. I will take the Princes and we shall go to Windsor, my home, my inheritance and you, Henry Tudor will never see me again.”
“I love you, Bess please, you will break my heart, you will kill me!”
“Then your majesty, you will know how I feel.” with her words she laid beside her father, hugging his lifeless body as she cried for the pain this loss had brought her.
She tossed and turned in fitful sleep. For years it had plagued her nights and tinted her days.
In wake she knew with fear too deep to mumble the words, that man dead upon the floor was not her uncle, was not Richard.
Another man was dragged from the woods, blood covered armour and thrown to his knees. Jasper Tudor raised his sword, stopped by the man who had fled the battlefield long before the true fighting a start. "Uncle no." No one spoke, the welsh man showed reluctance but lowered the blade, dragging his prisoner to his feet. "Run, for all you help I wish not to see your face again."
She started awake. It was at that point she always did. Now several hours on, queen Elizabeth sat upon her throne and thought in silence. She and Henry never spoke of Bosworth, of what happened to Richard. Yet all she could assume was that he knew the man beneath the armour, that he had spared England's king and Richard roamed free. Made merry in France or Burgundy.
She looked up as the doors opened, men in armour approached. "Your Majesty, prey since your husband is away, we must bring such matters to your attention."
"What is it?"
"We found a man wandering the grounds. Tis treason-"
"Bring him before me. If you must, else lock him in the tower if you-" her words stopped at the familiar shouts. Childhood memories soothed her momentarily before guards, each struggling dragged the man now held in chains. She looked at him, head bowed as they pulled the ring at his neck, she heard the crackle of half choked breaths, his wrists pulled taut behind him and ankles bound tight as he knelt. "He knew my name and used it personally, may I approach?"
"If it pleases her majesty."
She did not need a second time, approaching quickly she lifted the mans head, stumbling backwards tears takin to her eyes in an instant. "Pa-" she whispered the word, it's remainder inaudible by the sudden sobs. She took a moment, gaining her voice. "remove the chains and leave us." She heard the clinks, looked back to see the men still stood. "I said leave!" She approached quickly as the men left, raising her hand bringing it hard across her fathers cheek. "You coward, you whore son you..." She broke off into tears falling to her knees hugging him. "I thought you were dead. We all thought... You gave up your crown, you gave up mother and for what?"
"My daughter to be queen. You always said you would be."
"But you came back.." She paused remembering her dream with now shaking hands. "You fool, Henry cannot-" she was silenced by his finger, placed gently on her lips.
"Sweet Elizabeth worry not."
"Lady mother she-"
"She died in my arms, as was her wish."
"She knew, and kept silent from me."
"I would have lost my head for treason."
"It was you, at Bosworth” He said nothing, had no need to. She nodded stepping away, her fingers touching her lips. Tapping lightly. “Is my uncle alive?”
“I know nothing of how Dickon fairs. But what I did Bess, it was right. It needed to be done, Richard did not deserve to be king, but he did not deserve to die either.” He tried to step forward, stopped as she spun, her mothers eyes baring into him bringing memories to painful to bare. “Bess, you cannot-”
“What you did, right or wrong, is unforgivable You betrayed my husband and you committed treason.” She turned on him suddenly, the strength of a king filling her veins. He gulped, saw within her the Yorkist strength, the Plantagenet vanity He gulped and said nothing, bowing his head. “You cannot be forgiven for this, my father or not. Gaurds!” The men appeared chains in their hands once more, they said nothing. “Seize him, he is to go to the Tower. My husband shall decide his fate when he returns.”
“Bess!”
“Silence!” She stamped her foot as she stared at him. “Take him, without a seconds pause!” With those words she left.
The Tower of London, 6 months later
Elizabeth of York stood behind the curtains, looking at the sight before her. Her father sat silent, eyes fixed upon the man who entered silently, sitting upon the bed. “Your Grace, mayhap I should call you father?”
“Please, Henry I do not aspire to be king, only to see my daughter happy. To see he be queen.”
Henry smiled, nodded. Pulled the knife from hid belt twisting it in his hand. “See, as much as I would like for that my lord I cannot. See, already there are mumblings, potential little uprisings. You thought I would not seek out your brother? That I would not kill him to save my throne, then sir you are a fool.” He lifted the blade, holding it against his throat, pressing hard. Edward gulped, eyes closing, he bit his lip to hold back a whimper; to prevent the Tudor king his simple. Sweet satisfaction. “I am sorry.” With those words, Henry slipped the knife into the old kings ribs. Elizabeth screamed, Henry jumped back. “Wife!”
“Move! You hellspawn! Papa!” She jumped onto the matress, using her skirts to soak blood. “Papa, no.” She heard the wheezing, saw her fathers tears as the last breaths left his lungs. Sobs took over her body, shaking it. She threw off Henry's arm. “Do not! You are dead to me husband. Dead. I will take the Princes and we shall go to Windsor, my home, my inheritance and you, Henry Tudor will never see me again.”
“I love you, Bess please, you will break my heart, you will kill me!”
“Then your majesty, you will know how I feel.” with her words she laid beside her father, hugging his lifeless body as she cried for the pain this loss had brought her.