‘Owen did not seem to me an old man but I believe he was the same age as my mother and she was twenty-one when I was born.’

I would trust them all to serve you well,’ said Margaret, ‘and that makes me warm towards them. I will arrange a marriage for the girl and I see no reason why Edmund should not have Margaret Beaufort.’

‘Then, my love,’ said Henry, ‘if you decide it shall be so, it will be.’


* * *

There could no longer be any delay. Henry was weak still but Margaret insisted that he should be taken to the House of Lords and when he arrived there he dissolved Parliament.

The reign of the Duke of York was at an end. The King was returned and York had known his power was of a temporary nature.

It was unfortunate for the King and Margaret that York’s period of supremacy had been long enough to show the people that he was a good ruler. Law and order had been restored to the country and York’s rule had been seen to be just and firm.

Now it was over, but York would not lightly relinquish what he had cherished so much and for which he had an undoubted aptitude. Yet he must. He had taken on the Protectorate on the understanding that he must give it up as soon as the King was well.

The first act of the King’s—or rather Margaret’s—was to get Somerset released from the Tower. Shortly afterwards Exeter followed him.

Margaret now reinstated Somerset and he was the most important man in the country under the King.

There was of course a fierce hatred between Somerset and York. Somerset would never forgive York for imprisoning him; and York despised Somerset and wondered whether he ought

to have taken advantage of the situation and finished him altogether.

The feud between those two was irreconcilable and would only end with the death of one of them.

Meanwhile Margaret was revelling in the return to power. She indulged in her favourite pastime of matchmaking. Margaret Beaufort was married to Edmund Tudor and for Jacina she found Lord Grey de Wilton.

She was delighted with her efforts and she knew that if they were needed the Tudors would be on Henry’s side.

AT ST. ALBANS

The Duke of York was angry. Everything had been changing; events had been falling into place; he had been achieving success; he had shown the people that he had the gifts of a ruler and then…the King recovered.

‘And how far has he recovered?’ he demanded of Cecily.

‘He’s likely to go toppling over into idiocy again.’

‘Not that we wish him ill,’ added the Duke.

Cecily pressed her lips tightly together. She wished him ill. She wished he would go back to his madness.

‘But,’ went on the Duke, ‘when I had a comparatively free hand I felt I was getting things in order.’

‘You were, and if the people had any sense they would make you King.’

‘They always have such a respect for a crowned King,’ said York.

Cecily was silent seeing herself and Richard being crowned in Westminster Abbey. That was how it should be. They both had royal blood and Richard had more right to the crown than Henry.

‘What now?’ she asked.

‘Salisbury and Warwick will be with us shortly. We shall decide then.’

He was right. It was not long before Salisbury and Warwick arrived.

They were as resentful as York himself.

‘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.


* * *

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.’