Brian Wainwright - The Adventures of Alianore Audley

He looked at me strangely, as if he could not quite place me.

‘My wife is ill,’ he announced, in his cold, maniac’s voice. ‘You will attend her.’

They carried Anne up from her carriage, and laid her in my bed. She was ill, right enough. By the look of her that young pig had been using her as a punch bag. From what I could gather, she had made the mistake of weeping for her father.

Once I had calmed Anne, and settled her to sleep, I ventured down the stairs. The bastards were ransacking my stores, helping themselves to anything that could be lifted. The Prince was standing by the fire, with his mother, the Duke of Somerset, and old Lord Wenlock. Wenlock was in the act of splintering one of my chairs and adding it to the blaze. Now, there was a mild chill in the air, but it wasn’t anywhere near cold enough to justify burning the furniture. He was just doing it to show what a big man he was.

The eldest of my full brothers, Sir Humphrey Audley, had arrived while I was upstairs. After we had recovered from our mutual surprised he promised me that he would see to it that our brother Lord Audley and my husband were hanged from the same beam. After which he would make appropriate provision for me. He spoke rather as if I was one who had been deluded into the company of thieves.

Queen Margaret was another amiable sort. (Her father, by the way, called himself King of Jerusalem, Naples, Sicily and Aragon, although not one of the kingdoms recognised him as such. If there’s one thing I can’t stand it’s a man who claims to be King of this and that when he isn’t really King of anything. It’s so frightfully middle-class.) The flatterers surrounding her, most of them old enough to know better, kept on talking about her achievements. What achievements? I wondered. Buggering up the country? Does that count as an achievement? When she was in charge she made more mistakes than a hedgehog in a brush shop. It’s a miracle that she didn’t go completely mad and introduce a poll tax, like King Richard the Second did in the old days.

I don’t find it easy to make polite conversation while my house is turned into a pig sty around me. I dare say this shows a fault in my breeding, but that’s the way it is. I also noticed that the Prince was still trying to work out where he had seen me before. I wondered when it was going to click with him, and decided it was time to make an exit.

I went back to Anne. She was awake, and shivering.

‘I thought it was him,’ she said. She stared at me. ‘You are Alianore Audley, who used to be with us at Middleham.’

‘True,’ I murmured, ‘but do me a favour and keep it to yourself. The last time I bumped into your husband he tried to have me drowned.’

‘Drowned? For why?’

‘For being a Yorkist spy, over in France.’

‘A Yorkist spy? You?’

‘Yes. But don’t worry, I’ve retired now. I’ve decided it’s safer to specialise in embroidery and childbearing like everyone else.’

‘King Edward,’ said Anne, thoughtfully, ‘is only in Malmesbury. With Richard. Only a few miles away, isn’t it?’

‘About ten.’

‘Perhaps even closer, if he’s learned that our advance guard is camped on Sodbury Hill. He should have done by now. That was the idea, to draw him there.’

‘To give battle?’

‘No. The plan is to leave here, and Sodbury, in the middle of the night. To steal a march on Edward, at least five or six hours. ’Twill give us time to get across Severn, either at Gloucester or at Tewkesbury.’

‘Not at Gloucester,’ I said. ‘My husband’s kinsman, Richard Beauchamp, is holding Gloucester for King Edward.’

‘At Tewkesbury, then. Once in Wales, we’ll be joined by Jasper Tudor’s men. A great multitude they say.’

I knew that my Cousin Edward would pay richly for this information. It was just the minor detail of getting it to him.

‘I might go for a ride later,’ I said, ‘if you’ve no objections.’

There was a thick ivy growing up the wall below the solar window. It was just about strong enough to bear my weight. Court ladies do not generally have to descend from high windows without the aid of a ladder and at least a couple of esquires. If we did, we’d wear more practical clothes. It was a hell of a struggle to get down, and I tore my gown in the process. Good job it wasn’t one of the new ones.

The courtyard was quiet. I had deliberately waited until the snoring had started, and a little while longer after that. I began to move towards the stable. As I did, the door opened, and men started to lead horses outside. I suddenly remembered what Anne had said about them leaving in the middle of the night. I’d obviously dozed off and left things too late. The menials were astir.

I took the deepest breath of my life. I picked up my skirts and sprinted for the nearest horse, which happened to be the Prince’s. It was seventeen hands if it was an inch, and you could have shoved a pint pot up either one of its nostrils. Anyway, I vaulted straight into the saddle. What’s that? You don’t believe that I could do that? Listen, I don’t believe it, and I was there to see it. It’s amazing what the body will achieve when it realises that it’s liable to have some very nasty things done to it if it doesn’t make the grade.

I grabbed the reins from the lad who was holding them. He was another one who didn’t believe it. There was a section of curtain wall that had fallen down during the last frost. I was over it faster than you can say Blanc Sanglier . A great deal faster, in fact, than if you try to say it while drunk. Robin Hood, eat your heart out.

It was hard work managing that destrier. It would have helped to have had twice my weight and three times my strength. I had to make do with promising him an apple if he was a good horse.

I realised that I was going to have to pick my way around the enemy forces on Sodbury Hill, but at least I had the advantage of knowing the ground. It also helped that they were already in the process of moving off in the general direction of Gloucester, and not much interested in looking for Alianore.

I’d just decided that I had got away with it when I was challenged by a picket. ‘Who goes there?’ he demanded from the darkness. An imaginative question I always think.

One that demands an imaginative answer.

‘Lady Beauchamp,’ I shouted, narrowly resisting the temptation to announce myself as the Pope and the entire College of Cardinals.

‘Come forward slowly. No tricks.’

‘You silly man,’ I said. (Or words to that effect.) ‘What tricks do you expect? Do you suppose I’ve got a couple of dozen archers hidden under my skirts?’

He kept his bill pointed at me, just in case. I noticed with relief that he had the White Boar of Gloucester on his sleeve. At least I’d found the right army.

‘I am the wife of Sir Roger Beauchamp,’ I snapped, pushing the tip of his weapon away from my face. ‘Take me to the Duke at once! I’ve vital intelligence for him. And I’d stand well back if I were you. I’m only just about holding this God-damned horse.’

‘You’ll have to wait. I’ve sent my boy for an officer.’

After what seemed like an hour, mostly spent fighting the destrier, someone came pushing through the trees.

‘God’s Truth!’ cried Rob Percy. ‘It’s Nell Audley! What in the name of all the sheep of Jervaulx Abbey are you doing here in the middle of the night?’

‘Waiting for the next carrier’s cart to Bristol.’ I rapped back. It was blasted cold, sitting there on the Prince’s destrier with the night wind blowing around my ears and through the huge rend in my gown. I was a little surprised to see Rob. I had still thought of him as Warwick’s man, not realising that he had defected to Gloucester’s service at some point. They had been good friends at Middleham, of course.