I can feel my color rising in the warmth of my cheeks. “You will bring out your army for Henry?” I ask. The Stanley army will be many thousands of men, enough to determine the course of a battle. If Stanley will fight for Henry, then Henry is certain to win.

“Of course,” he says. “Could you ever have doubted me?”

“I thought you would only take the winning side?” I ask.

For the first time in our marriage, he opens his arms to me and I step willingly towards him. He holds me warmly for a moment and then smiles down into my face. “If I am fighting for him, then Henry will be the winning side,” he says. “Is that not your wish, my lady?”

“My wish, and God’s will,” I say.

“Then God’s will be done,” he confirms.

JULY 1485

The network of spies and reporters that I had around me during the rebellion slowly emerges again, and my husband sends me word that I can meet with whomever I want, at my own risk. Dr. Lewis returns from Wales with a promise that the Welsh will be loyal to the name of Tudor; Pembroke Castle will throw open its doors to its old ruler, Jasper Tudor. Rhys ap Thomas, the greatest chieftain in Wales, has given his word to Richard, but he will play him false; Rhys ap Thomas will rise up for Henry. My man Reginald Bray goes quietly around the great houses of England promising that Henry Tudor will bring an unbeatable army, and that he will take the throne and bring justice at last to the House of Lancaster and reconciliation with York.

I receive a letter from Jasper: To Lady Margaret Stanley

It is to be at the end of this month or early next. We will have fifteen ships and about two thousand men. This will be our last chance, I think. This time we have to win, Margaret. For the sake of your son, you must make your husband take the field. We cannot do this without him. Henry and I are counting on you to bring out the Stanleys. Please God I shall see you at our boy’s coronation, or else I shall never see you again. God bless you either way. This has been a long good cause, and I have been proud to serve your son and you.

Jasper

AUGUST 1485

The fifteen ships set sail from Harfleur, financed by the French for the destruction of England, loaded with the worst men in Europe, drilled by Swiss instructors into some semblance of an army, commanded by Jasper, and led by Henry, more frightened than he has ever been before in his life.

He has reached the English shore before, and sheered off, too afraid to face this enemy, certain he would be defeated. Now he has his chance once more, and he knows this will be his last chance. The Bretons supported him before, but he did not even land. The French support him now, but they will not do so again. If this fails, there will be no one else to join him. If he fails now, he will spend the rest of his life in exile, a pitiful pretender to the throne, begging for his living.

They sail through summer seas, the winds are warm, the sea calm, the night is short and the dawn clear. The southern counties are held down by Richard, they do not dare land in the south. So they land as far west as they can, at Dale, in West Wales, hoping that Richard’s spies will not see them, hoping to enlist a flood of recruits eager to march against the tyrant, before he even knows that they are in his country.

It doesn’t happen. They are greeted mostly with indifference. The men who marched out with the Duke of Buckingham and were defeated by rain don’t want to march out again. Many of them are loyal to Richard, some of them may even send a warning to him. Henry, a stranger in the country he is claiming as his own, cannot understand the Welsh language in this harsh western accent. He even speaks English with a Breton accent-he has been abroad too long. He is a stranger; and they don’t like strangers.