Anne O'Brien - Queen of the North

My Mortimer dreams, I feared, were about to fade into insignificance within the scope of Percy plans for the future.

Chapter Six

Alnwick Castle: Early November 1399

King Henry’s chickens were hatched smartly enough. Before the first frosts of November, the two great Percy magnates, Northumberland and Worcester, arrived at Alnwick with what could only be described as an air of smug achievement. They were soon closeted with Harry in the Earl’s private chamber, dispatching servants for ale and food.

I considered listening at the door but decided that it was beneath my dignity either to eavesdrop or to demand admittance. I would discover all in due time.

So what had been our reward for helping Lancaster to his throne? I imagined it was generous, hearing the Earl’s bark of laughter, Worcester’s smooth rumble, the sharp query from Harry as I passed the still-closed door an hour later.

A further hour and the exchange of opinion continued, with more ale sent for, and I could wait no longer. Thus I arrived with the ale, waylaying the servant and taking the flagon from him. There they were, the three Percy lords deep in admiration of their ill-gotten gains and no doubt planning a raid along the Scottish border on the strength of their new powers, driving me to make, in a spirit of spiced malice, a suitably deferential obeisance in the presence of such overwhelming magnate supremacy. With the deftness of any serving wench, I refilled the cups, then laid a hand on Harry’s shoulder, remaining behind him when he placed his hand to cover mine. Whether in warning or acknowledgement I was unsure. Worcester predictably rose to his feet with words of welcome. The Earl, equally predictably, keeping his seat, granted me a brusque nod of his head.

‘So tell me the good news, my lords. Has our payment for services rendered been acceptable?’

King Henry’s more-than-smooth accession still rubbed against my skin.

I took in the evidence at a quick glance. There were documents in the coffer on the table between them, some spilling out where they had been read and abandoned. Royal seals were evident, the figure easily recognisable as the King seated between two lions. How generous had King Henry been? I thought of perusing them for myself but that would spoil the Percy liking for pride and self-promotion. Harry was smiling at me as he took my arm, bringing me closer into the Percy council so that I perched on the arm of his chair. He pushed his own cup of ale into my hand.

‘Come and drink to our achievements.’ He rescued one of the documents, unrolling it for me to see. ‘I am confirmed as Warden of the East March and Governor of the castles at both Berwick and Roxburgh. I have also the castle of Bamburgh to hold for life.’ As he allowed the document to re-roll, I could not mistake the glow of satisfaction. ‘My father holds the West March as we would expect, and the town of Carlisle. Between us we will dominate the north in the name of King and Percy. We could not ask for more.’

‘My congratulations.’ Raising the cup in a smart little salute, I drank, as I must; it would be churlish not to do so, for it was a substantial reward indeed, to put a seal on Percy ambitions. All that Richard had allowed us had been confirmed by Lancaster as King, and more. Between them the Earl and Harry held the military and civilian power in the north in their combined fists. As well as the Earl being Constable of England.

The Earl was not moved to be too complacent. ‘It is regretful about Ralph Neville.’

From which I presumed that King Henry had not been backward in recognising the debt he owed to his brother by marriage. I waited. When the Earl merely grunted his displeasure through a mouthful of ale, it was Worcester who explained it for me, settling easily into his habitual laconic manner.

‘Neville has been made Marshal of England and given the lordship of Richmond for life. We would rather he had not – Richmond is a strategic castle – but it is a drop in the ocean. He’ll be no threat to us.’

So Henry was placing Neville as a tame hawk in the centre of the Percy raptors. Even though the office of Earl Marshal was a prestigious one, at the head of the King’s forces, as my lord of Worcester admitted, it was no real threat to us. Yet it was a resourceful move on the King’s part to keep a watchful eye on which prey the Percys might consider gobbling up.

‘And you, my lord?’ I asked Worcester. ‘What is your reward? Your repudiation of Richard was formidable, and your work for Henry as his attorney must be recognised. Are you content?’

‘The King has been generous. With five hundred marks to line my coffers every year for life, I am made Steward of Henry’s household.’

‘As well as Admiral of England, Treasurer and Keeper of the Privy Seal,’ Harry added. ‘You won’t have a moment’s time to spend your five hundred marks. Our King will keep you hopping.’

‘True.’ Worcester’s acceptance was calm, but I could see the sleek gratification writ large as he proceeded to re-roll the documents, neat as any legal man. ‘Our King has ambitions too, to make his mark on the country. He looks to secure his borders against intransigent Scots, and the Welsh, thus to bring in a period of golden peace and fair government. If that does not strengthen his support throughout the country, nothing will.’ His light smile might have held a touch of cynicism. ‘I will do my best to smooth his path.’

‘A fine achievement,’ I agreed, as indeed it was. All was much as I had expected, and I could not deny the Percy triumph. ‘Where is Richard in all this?’ I asked. ‘Will he be allowed to retire and live privately?’

Idly, picking up one of the rolls that had escaped Worcester’s attention, unfurling it, I read it in a cursory fashion, taking Harry’s seat when he rose to refill the cups, discovering a new one for himself. From the date it was one of the documents of intent, issued by Henry as King shortly after his coronation, with his signature and seal.

I allowed my eye to travel down the clerkly script.

‘King Henry intended to transfer Richard from the Tower to his own fortress at Pontefract Castle,’ Worcester was explaining from his position as head of the royal household. ‘I expect he’s there by now.’ He caught my glance. ‘He is in no danger. He’ll be well looked after.’

But I was no longer listening. It was not Richard that concerned me, for my eye had caught on a date, a date that surprised me. I spread the roll more firmly, flattening it with both hands, and read again.

‘Is this correct?’ I asked, my mind racing.

‘Yes.’ The Earl answered since it was pertinent to his promotions. ‘It confirms my supremacy in the West March and at Carlisle.’ His mouth twisted. ‘In case there is any who will question it. It is stated clear enough.’

‘Yes. It does confirm it. It is very clear. It is the date that gives me food for some uncomfortable thought.’

‘There’s naught to concern you. The last day of October. A week ago.’

‘As I see.’ I looked up at the authoritative visage. ‘But this is confirmation of an earlier agreement.’ I looked at Harry. ‘Did you know about this?’

‘What is there to know?’

Harry shrugged his ignorance. Worcester was unimpressed; Northumberland blandly dismissive as he held out his hand for the document. It was a direction to parliament much to the Earl’s benefit, and the date to me was most pertinent. Retaining it, I read aloud:

Henry by the Grace of God, King of England and of France .