Joanna Hickson - First of the Tudors

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‘A great tale… the golden thread that led to the crown of England’ Conn IgguldenJasper Tudor, son of Queen Catherine and her second husband, Owen Tudor, has grown up far from the intrigue of the royal court. But after he and his brother Edmund are summoned to London, their half-brother, King Henry VI, takes a keen interest in their future.Bestowing Earldoms on them both, Henry also gives them the wardship of the young heiress Margaret Beaufort. Although she is still a child, Jasper becomes devoted to her and is devastated when Henry arranges her betrothal to Edmund.He seeks solace in his estates and in the arms of Jane Hywel, a young Welsh woman who offers him something more meaningful than a dynastic marriage. But passion turns to jeopardy for them both as the Wars of the Roses wreak havoc on the realm. Loyal brother to a fragile king and his domineering queen, Marguerite of Anjou, Jasper must draw on all his guile and courage to preserve their throne − and the Tudor destiny…

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‘The Earls of Pembroke have not always found favour among the Welsh,’ Hywel observed, edging himself free. ‘Especially here in the north.’ I could sense an uneasy tension about him and groped for a valid reason.

‘The Earl of Pembroke has never been a Welshman before,’ responded Jasper swiftly, turning to Maredudd, who had followed our father’s lead and set his knee to the ground. ‘Cousin Maredudd, I give you God’s good day as well. We parted friends two years ago. I hope nothing has changed.’

My brother’s attitude was less wary. ‘Not as far as I am concerned, Lord Jasper, but my father pays the king’s taxes and does not like the way they are spent.’ This revelation earned him a fierce frown from Hywel.

‘Ha!’ Jasper pulled Maredudd to his feet. ‘Nor does the Duke of York. Does that make you all Yorkists now? I confess I dislike the way the country is splitting between Lancaster and York. I myself favour a united front and peace with France and intend to work towards that end.’ He turned to Hywel. ‘As for the taxation, I have something to discuss which may ease your troubles on that score. Jane offered refreshment. May we talk over a mug of ale?’

The atmosphere shifted as my father remembered his duty of hospitality. ‘Of course, my lord, let us go in.’

Before climbing the steep stair to the upper hall of the farmhouse, Hywel and Maredudd stopped to strip off their malodorous smocks in the empty byre, replacing them with clean homespun tunics and washing their hands in water drawn from the cistern barrel outside the dairy door. Meanwhile I poured ale and Bethan fetched loaves from the morning’s batch of bread and a cheese from the store-cupboard, before retiring behind the solar curtain with Nesta.

Jasper accepted a full mug from me and took a long swallow while I opened the shutters, letting light into the dim hall. ‘I must say that a draught of your fine ale is very welcome, Jane. We have been in the saddle since daybreak.’ He sat down in the big hearth chair I indicated. ‘I am going to ask your brother Maredudd to join my household at Pembroke. Do you think he will accept a position as my squire?’

With a sudden surge of jealousy I realized how much I would relish the opportunity of escaping the confines of Tŷ Cerrig. The world outside was unknown to me, an unexplored land, and likely to remain so. ‘I cannot speak for my brother but if it were me I would jump at the chance,’ I said. I placed two trestles in the middle of the room, then Mair helped me fit the board across them.

Jasper watched us lay out the cheese and bread and begin to cut wedges. ‘Would you really like to leave Tŷ Cerrig, Jane?’ he asked with thoughtful surprise. ‘But how would your father manage without you? He has other sons to work the farm but no one else who can run the household as you do.’

I made no response because at that moment my father and brother entered the hall. Maredudd was hauling a pair of large and obviously heavy saddlebags, which he set down beside Jasper. ‘Your lad brought these up to the house,’ he said. ‘They feel as if they are full of gold.’

Jasper laughed and stood up, putting his mug down on the board. ‘They carry the parts of my armour that I am not wearing. Could I ask your help in removing the rest? I am sure I will not be needing it here.’

He watched keenly as Maredudd set about undoing the buckles that secured the various elements of armour he had considered necessary for protection on the road. I had no idea what any of them were called but I was surprised to hear Maredudd name each piece as he removed it, obviously impressed. ‘This is beautifully made, my lord. Fits you perfectly,’ he remarked, placing the last item on the pile of gleaming steel. ‘It must have cost a great deal. Shall I give it a rub before I put it in the bag?’

Stripped to tunic and hose, Jasper looked considerably more comfortable. ‘Not now, thank you.’ He shook his head and went to pull his chair up to the table but Maredudd was ahead of him, placing it at the centre of the board and pushing it in as Jasper sat himself down. ‘Perhaps later, after we have all spoken a little together. And let us eat while we talk. I confess I am hungry.’

I went to replenish his supply of ale and fill cups for my father and brother, who drew up a bench opposite Jasper. I found it strange to see my father take a subordinate position at his own board and it brought home to me the new gulf in rank between our Tudor cousin and us. I could see that Hywel was chafing silently under the inferior position.

‘Please sit with us, Jane,’ Jasper said unexpectedly. ‘If you can spare the time.’

I glanced at my father, received his curt nod of approval and slid onto the bench beside Maredudd. As I did so I remembered the rest of the men waiting for refreshment outside and reached out to cut another, much larger wedge off the big cheese wheel. I handed it to Mair and told her to draw some jugs of ale and take them with the cheese and several loaves down to the stables. ‘Do not linger down there gossiping,’ I charged her. ‘Get straight back to the dairy.’

‘There should be men waiting below to collect the victuals,’ Jasper said.

Far from looking grateful, garrulous Mair frowned and left the hall muttering under her breath, the heavy hunk of cheese held in her apron. I guessed that a flirtatious exchange with the men at arms would have provided her with a week’s supply of gossip.

For a short time the three men drank and ate without speaking and I nibbled at a crust of bread and picked at the morsels that had crumbled off the cheese. Jasper was the first to break the silence.

‘As you all appear to know already, my brother the king has granted me the earldom of Pembroke. When I was last here at Tŷ Cerrig I had not expected any such honour and I confess that running such widespread estates is a daunting prospect. There is already an administration in place but I am now in the process of appointing a household and retinue, people I can trust and who will serve me honestly and loyally. That is my main reason for coming here, apart of course from renewing old friendships and family ties. So Hywel, the position of Steward of Pembroke castle is available, which I offer to you if you feel you could combine it with your farming activities.’

He paused and we all looked expectantly at Hywel. As far as I knew few Welsh citizens held an office as high as steward, especially of a castle as important as Pembroke. I had never been there but I was aware that it was a major stronghold, one of a ring of fortresses built around the perimeter of Wales to preserve the English monarchy’s grip on the principality and defend it from outside attack. For the last two hundred years a succession of royal relatives and favourites had been installed as overlords of Pembroke and in return for its revenues had been expected to defend the south west shores of Wales from incursion, as well as dispense justice and keep the peace among the native population. I guessed that Jasper would be the first to try and achieve this with a foot in both camps – as the son of a Welshman and the brother of the king. It would not be easy and my father’s carefully worded reaction offered evidence of why.

‘I am grateful that you should consider me worthy of the honour, Lord Jasper,’ he said gruffly, ‘but with regret I must decline. Since your last visit, sadly my wife’s father, Emrys, has died and I have assumed control of her lands as well as my own. I would be unable to devote the necessary time to administering a castle of the size and importance of Pembroke, to say nothing of overseeing its estates in your lordship’s inevitable absences. I hope you will forgive my refusal and accept my apologies.’

In deference to Jasper’s presence we were speaking English and I was impressed by my father’s diplomacy in wording his rejection so tactfully in a language that was not his native tongue. I knew that Welsh had been his only language until he followed his cousin Owen Tudor to England to serve Queen Catherine, but since then, with my mother’s help, as well as English he had acquired a smattering of French. This and his comprehensive grasp of land-use would have made him a very suitable candidate for the job of Pembroke’s seneschal.

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