Anne O'Brien - A Tapestry of Treason

‘He would not have had you executed,’ I suggested.

‘He would have had me stripped of all he had given me! I’d not risk it. We all knew what was in our best interests.’ He swung round. ‘Did we not, Thomas? You, if I recall, were as culpable as I.’

Thomas straightened and strolled forward, nudged at last into voice. ‘Yes, we knew what we must do. But I had no hand in Woodstock’s murder. I was not there when the pillow was held to his face. I’ll not accept any blame for Woodstock’s death…’

There they were, facing each other like two sharp-spurred cocks, goaded in a fighting pit. I might not trust my brother overmuch, but here was Thomas sliding out from under a political murder in which they had both been complicit. Thomas Despenser would sell his soul to the Devil to keep the power he had.

‘You will not tear each other apart. Our enemies will do that willingly enough,’ the Duke intervened. ‘What was the outcome? You are clearly not imprisoned.’

‘No. Not yet.’ Edward continued his furious complaint. ‘I said I would prove Bagot false through personal combat. I threw my hood at his feet and challenged him to a duel. I’d force him to eat his words. But what did King Henry do? Calm as you like, he ordered me to pick up my hood and return to my seat. So the accusation still stands, Bagot is free to continue his poisonous complaint against me and throughout the whole, the King’s face was as much a stone mask as the statues around us. I’ll not have confidence in his mercy.’

‘You are his cousin. He’ll not have you executed.’ What an empty promise that was, yet I attempted to pour cooling water on this explosion of vitriol. We needed Edward to be cool and calm, capable of careful planning, not alight with a fire of self-righteousness. ‘Tomorrow all will be well.’

‘Tomorrow all will be far from well,’ Edward growled. ‘You were not there. You did not read the magnates’ delight, gleaming in their eyes, in the opportunity to be rid of me. Once I might have thought them friends. There are no friends where power is concerned.’

‘I see you are not concerned with my safety,’ Thomas added with terrible petulance.

I had neglected him, when usually I was careful in my response to him, a man who was easily stirred to selfish anger. Now was not the time for him to sink into sullen recrimination.

‘Be at peace, my lord. Indeed, I recognise your danger.’

I went to him to refill his cup, to soothe with a formal kiss of greeting to his cheek, which he accepted with ill grace.

‘I think you do not. Bagot wasn’t satisfied in attacking Aumale. He went on to accuse the rest of us involved in the removal of the Lords Appellant. We are all incriminated as evil counsellors.’ I became aware of Joan stiffening at my father’s side. This was the news she had not wanted. ‘Bagot named Surrey and Exeter too, as well as Salisbury.’

Thomas was not finished. ‘He also named me.’ He glanced at Edward, prepared now to concede a point. ‘I was not directly involved in Woodstock’s death, but I was one of the Counter-Appellants and reaped the rewards. The Earldom of Gloucester as well as Arundel and Beauchamp estates and castles. It will not be easily forgiven by those who thought Arundel died a martyr’s death. I foresee no pardon for Surrey or Exeter. Or for me. As for the rest of you,’ – his gaze swept us all – ‘the King might decide to rid himself of the whole hornets’ nest of potential traitors.’

‘I thought—’ I began.

‘If you think we had persuaded him that we could be of value to him as supporters of the new reign, then you are wrong. We were all wrong.’

It is exactly what I had thought. But here was violent death lurking on our threshold. Joan looked as if the dread angel sat on her shoulder. My father was stricken to silence, a hand, shaking, covering his eyes.

‘What do we do?’ Joan asked helplessly.

It was as if no one cared to answer her. Perhaps they thought her question fatuous, as I did.

‘This is what we do,’ I said, for there was only one choice to make. What could we possibly do to pre-empt the next step by the King? ‘We do nothing. We keep our temper. We preserve a good humour. We challenge no one. We answer all accusations, or not, as required. We admit nothing. We discuss it with no one. We do not allow temper to cloud our judgement.’

I had their eyes and their ears. I did not hold back. In this black void of fear they would listen to me.

‘We do not beg for mercy from the King until we need it, if we need it. And we wait. Nothing to be gained by doing anything else. We will conduct ourselves as if we were innocent. Any accusation against us must be proven. Will the King listen to Bagot before his own blood?’

‘He might not.’ Edward’s fury had subsided somewhat into a mere rumble of falling rocks. ‘But the Lords would gladly do so.’

‘Then we trust that the King sees sense and dismisses the Lords. He cannot afford to lose you, Edward.’ I glanced at my husband. ‘He can’t afford to lose any of us. Meanwhile, we’ll add nothing more to the danger we are already in.’ Then to my father: ‘Have you been threatened to any degree, my lord?’

He shook his head.

‘Surely Henry dare not,’ Edward said, equanimity restored at last as some degree of clear thought came into play. ‘Our father played kingmaker at Berkeley, by negotiating rather than directing his army to fight. Without that, Henry’s struggle against Richard would have been twice as difficult. He owes our father an incalculable debt of gratitude.’

‘Then let us hope that he realises it,’ I agreed. ‘And that to reward the Duke of York for past services, he must pardon the Duke of York’s family.’

But Edward was frowning down into the empty cup. ‘Bagot said that John Hall should be questioned,’ he admitted.

‘And who is John Hall?’

Edward’s eyes met mine, and there was deep concern still alive and well.

‘John Hall was one of the valets involved in the death of Thomas of Woodstock in Calais. Bagot says he should be questioned because he knows who was involved. Who sent the order and who carried it out. Hall is in prison in Newgate. I expect he’ll be in the Lords’ clutches by tomorrow morning.’

‘Will he incriminate you?’ I asked, knowing the answer before I asked the question.

‘Yes. This could all be much worse than we think.’

It had to be Thomas who pointed out the obvious: ‘Worse?’ He rubbed his hands over his face. ‘How can it be worse? I can see death writ large for all of us.’

Doom kept us all company through the hours of night and into the morning, when Joan and I converged on what had become the women’s chamber, our embattled menfolk already on their way to attend the meeting of parliament. This was no day for any one of them to be absent, not even my father, still in pain but determined. Only a ministration to his limbs of the roots and leaves of hound’s tongue and marjoram, steeped in warm oil, to dull the pain, together with the strong arm of his body servant, got him through the door; his discomfort could not be disguised but he would stand beside his family. The Dukes of Surrey and Exeter joined them to put on a brave face. The fate of all would hang together.

Which left the womenfolk, as ever, to await the outcome while the royal greyhound fretted outside the door. For some reason beyond my guessing, it had returned to Edward’s care, which seemed absurd when the King had rejoiced at its change of loyalty. I refused to allow it entry. It was enough to tolerate the sickly sweetness of the marjoram which hung in the air, strangely at odds with the stench of alarm.