Anne O'Brien - A Tapestry of Treason

‘Edward says whatever suits him best. He’s as slippery as an eel resisting being dropped into a pot of boiling water.’

‘Are we not all carved from the same wood? Self-interested to the last?’

Thomas emptied his chased and enamelled goblet with some satisfaction. ‘Of course. We’ll all perjure ourselves if necessary.’

Our thoughts, which it seemed were for once in unison, were interrupted by a great crash of wood against stone, as the doors of the feasting chamber were flung back and a knight in full gleaming armour, on horseback, rode in. Around us many voices were raised, but no one seemed too perturbed. There was some laughter, some groans. Thomas sighed as the knight lifted his visor to announce his name: Sir Thomas Dymoke. His voice, raw as a jackdaw’s croak, bounced from the stonework.

‘I am here by right of inheritance through my lady mother. I am the King’s Champion. I challenge to a duel any man who doubts King Henry’s right to the throne.’

Spurring his horse to a brisk walk he made a circuit around the hall, brushing against the tapestries to release clouds of dust. The preparations for this festivity had been hasty. One circuit and then another. And another, by this time raising some ribaldry.

‘Is there no one here who will challenge the right of our King to wear the crown? If there is any such, then I will fight him, sword against sword.’

‘For God’s sake, someone challenge him and put us out of our misery.’ Thomas had no patience, while Edward, who had been dispensing wine to the new King from a silver flagon, strolled over to replenish our cups with what remained in the vessel.

‘A more pompous idiot I have yet to meet,’ Edward observed.

‘So will you not answer his challenge?’ I needled gently.

‘Not I. I am firmly in the royal good books. And I will make sure that I stay there.’

The greyhound, no longer following obediently at Edward’s heel, was restored, hale and hearty, to the company of King Henry. It lay beside him, its head on the royal foot as once it had rested on Edward’s, and probably before that on Richard’s, reminding me that all dogs could be fickle creatures.

Edward followed the direction of my gaze. ‘And there’s the truth of it,’ he nodded in a moment of whimsy. ‘Henry the greyhound putting to flight the white hart of Richard.’

‘I dislike omens. And I’ve more care for my dignity,’ Thomas said, ‘so don’t look at me. Public challenges only bring ridicule to all concerned, whoever wins.’

My father grunted his disapproval but acceptance of such levity. It was tradition.

‘I’ll do it.’ Dickon spoke out, his face aglow. ‘I’ll throw down my hood.’

‘You’ll do no such thing,’ I said, suddenly made alive to the inadvisability of drawing attention to our ambiguous position at this dangerously new Court.

‘But I will.’

And he did, his fur-trimmed hood flung to the floor in formal challenge as Dymoke rode past. Before anyone could see and comment, I stooped, picked it up and pushed it into his hand.

‘Be silent!’

‘Why should I?’

‘Such ill-considered chivalry could be noticed. And lower your voice! You are a fool, Dickon.’

‘At least I am loyal.’

‘Then you will perforce learn a new loyalty. As we all have done this day.’

It was Henry who brought the display to an end.

‘I shall personally relieve you of this onerous duty, Master Champion, since no one seems to be prepared to pick up your challenge.’

I wondered if he had seen Dickon’s defiant gesture. Cousin Henry was sharp-eyed. He would need to be if he was to carry this reign to success. I allowed my regard to sweep across the assembled throng. How many here were as ambivalent in their loyalty as we were? As the dregs of the feast settled down around us, the Champion retiring with much unkind laughter, Dickon subsiding, we exchanged a grim smile and raised a toast. To the future. To a new beginning. To inscribing the House of York with gold.

‘He has called for parliament to resume tomorrow,’ my father reminded us, as if we needed the reminder. It was the poisonous fly in the ointment, the occasion when all past enmities just might be stirred into life. Seeing the fine line between his brows, I asked:

‘Do we fear it?’

‘No. I expect it will be a discussion by the Commons of what to do with Richard, and by the Lords how we might curtail the powers of the new King by restricting his finance.’ The line disappeared. ‘Nothing for us to fear there.’

I said what was hovering over all of us. ‘I am thinking that the affair of the Counter-Appellants might not be quite dead and buried. There are those in the Lords who will see an opportunity for revenge for what was done two years ago in Richard’s name.’

Edward grimaced; clearly it had not been too far from his mind. ‘Then it would be good policy, Constance, if you could offer up a prayer that we are all too busy with Richard’s fate that no one thinks of it.’

It could indeed be dangerous. ‘I will. In absentia,’ I added. ‘It is my intention to leave you to your parliamentary deliberations. There is no more for me to do here.’

I allowed my eye to continue to travel over the gathering. The faces, the heraldic symbols, all familiar to me. The rich aroma of meat and spices, the songs of expert minstrels. The inbred wealth and traditions and ceremony. Here was my future. Nothing had changed, except for the wearer of the crown. It was a belief that I must hold to, even though my deepest apprehensions could not be dispelled. We did not yet know what changes King Henry might set in train, nor would we until those changes were in place. Whatever they might be, even if they undermined the very foundations of my family, we were powerless to prevent the excavations.

Meanwhile there would be no event to demand my involvement at Court, when this first meeting of parliament would take precedence over all things. I knew what I must do with my time.

‘Do you go to Elmley?’ Thomas asked as the feast drew to a close and we made our way to our own accommodations. His interest in my whereabouts was mild at best; he would readily find female company, in bed and out. I was resigned to it, almost relieved that his demands on me were light. He already had his heir. ‘If you do, take a look over the rent rolls and send me what you can. My purse is to let.’

‘So soon?’

I knew he had drawn heavily on his estates to equip his expedition to Ireland, and not merely to pay for men and horseflesh, which had been costly enough. Intent on gallant display he had purchased new spurs, rich cloth to fit out his entire entourage and two new gold and appliquéd standards to exhibit the Despenser presence on any battlefield. His annual income of something near two thousand pounds had been stretched.

‘What is it to you?’

‘It matters nothing to me, except that your extravagance could beggar us all.’

‘I don’t have to answer to my wife.’

‘Of course you do not.’ I smiled winningly, which did not enchant him to any degree. ‘All you have to do is enjoy the proceeds of my dower lands.’ And then before he could retaliate on this well-worn theme: ‘You don’t wish to accompany me? You might become reacquainted with your son and daughter. They see little enough of you.’

He shook his head. Thomas would take his seat in the Lords, and the thought intruded as he left me at my door. ‘Do you fear that Richard’s decision over the old Despenser arraignment will be reversed by Henry?’

His eyes narrowed. ‘No. What would be the value for Lancaster in doing that?’ But I thought there was a vestige of fear buried in his mind.

‘Only revenge,’ I mused. ‘Be watchful.’