Julian Rathbone - Kings of Albion

'This Richard was a weak and pleasure-loving youth, who fought no wars against the Franks but stayed at home and lived in luxury with his favourites, wasting the kingdom with his extravagance. Many of the nobles began to hate him for this and eventually chose a leader to oust him, even though this was against the law and religion of the land.

Their rebellion was led by a nephew of Edward called Henry, the son of John, known as John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster. This Henry thus became king. But many others of the nobles thought he should not be king and his reign was troubled with civil strife. Moreover, he connived at the murder of the ousted Richard. Henry survived and was Succeeded by his son, also a Henry. This second Henry, the fifth King of Ingerlond to bear the name, was another great warrior and returned to Francia where he, too, won many great victories before he died, leaving as his successor a child, hardly more than a baby, to be king in his place. 'This child was also Henry…'

Here Anish intervened with a whining complaint. 'Are these people so short of names they have to give the same name to every king they have?'

I reminded him that Your Excellency's three predecessors were all called Deva Raya, and he shut up.

Ali continued, 'This Henry, the sixth to rule Ingerlond, is still alive and is now nearly forty years old. Like the Richard whose vices were the first cause of all this, he is a bad ruler, not a wastrel living in luxury but spending his revenue on colleges, monasteries and places of learning, all built with great magnificence to the glory of the Christian God. He is also a weakling in mind, body and spirit. He suffers periods of madness, is often ill, and lacks the ability to be decisive or firm. He is of poor judgement. He is ruled, and the whole country through him, by his Frankish wife, Margaret of Anjou, who wastes what is left of the royal revenues on less exalted things than churches and puts favourites whose families are of no consequence in high places. Because the royal coffers are often empty and her followers grasping and incompetent, the government performs ill and general lawlessness has become endemic throughout the land. Many nobles take advantage of this state of anarchy to pursue personal feuds over imagined injuries, or disputes arising from contested claims to property and demesnes.'

He paused, took a turn in front of the fireplace, swinging on his pole, hitching his fur over his shoulder. 'Now,' he went on, once he had collected himself again, 'when the King's madness becomes insupportable and of some duration a regency is formed, of three or four magnates, to rule in his name. And when this happens the Queen is usually one of the three, but another is Richard…'

Anish sighed.

'… Richard. Duke of York. This Richard is descended from a younger brother of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, and on that account has no claim to the throne. However, he is also descended in the female line from an older brother of Gaunt, which might give him a claim to the throne better than the present king's. But he has never pushed this claim – at least, not publicly. As I have said, though, he has ruled the country with others during the King's madness. You will have noticed how inbred this family is – hence the high incidence, no doubt, of illness and madness.

'The Queen hates him and suspects his motives and intentions. He himself has proclaimed himself Protector as well as Regent. He has said that the country needs strong government to set all to rights, and that he should lead it. The dispute between them led to open conflict and the magnates and nobility of Ingerlond all sided with one or the other. At first this Richard of York gained the upper hand, made the King his prisoner and ruled in his place, but then the Queen won a battle and reversed the situation. At present the Queen rules, with the King by her side, from a city called Coventry in the middle of Ingerlond, not from London where the merchants generally favour Richard of York. York himself is in exile in Ireland, while, as you see, his cousin, friend and ally, Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, maintains himself here in his support.'

Thus Ali ben Quatar Mayeen. Now I must close, dear cousin, with an account of the two other significant matters that have taken place during the last few days.

One afternoon, just after the storm had blown itself out and Dynham had sailed for Sandwich with his three hundred men, I, Anish and Ali were taking a turn round the courtyard of the keep. We were not alone. In one corner our fakir was entertaining a cloud of urchins with six-hall juggling and in another our monk was passing an hour or so in the lotus position or whatever.

We were conversing about our situation. Were we prisoners or guests? Would Neville and his Yorkists aid or hinder our crossing into Ingerlond? Were our tradeable goods safe or would he simply confiscate them and turn them into commodities lie could use for his enterprise of taking one king from the throne and putting another in his place? Certainly it was a constant complaint amongst his affinity that funds were low; none had yet been paid their hire as liveried gentlemen in his service while the best they could hope for, if their enterprise failed, was a life spent wandering the continent and even the Orient, plying for hire as mercenaries… for in Ingerlond they were already attainted.

We asked what this meant and certainly it seemed an unpleasant fate for anyone to suffer. First a bill of Attainder had been passed against them by Act of Parliament (of which more later if it becomes important). This meant that the King had legally seized all their lands, movables and money, disinherited their families and, if they fell into his hands, could have them hanged, drawn and quartered.

This is a most barbarous form of execution and goes far beyond the foulest things even the Arabs have dreamt up -far beyond, for instance, impaling. First, the criminal is hanged by the neck, but not for long enough to kill him. Then he is laid on a table and the executioner draws out of his body his inner organs, particularly his intestine which he holds before his victim's eyes. Finally the heart and liver are plucked out. The poor man will now probably die after a process that will have lasted up to a full half-hour and the executioner will cut off his head and cut his carcass into four quarters. These will then be displayed separately at points some distance from each other, as at the gates of a city or over a bridge, as a warning to whomever might see them.

Now, following a battle they had lost, through treachery, at a town called Ludlow, a couple of months earlier, all the nobles and gentry in Calais and the exiles in Ireland had been attainted by Parliament. Their lands in Ingerlond were confiscated, their families reduced to poverty. So, all we met and talked to during our stay in Calais were impoverished and thus open to temptation to steal from us.

However, this they did not do, but one at least came at us another way. As I say, we were walking round the yard and had just passed the stables when a tall figure who had been grooming a big black stallion came out to us, wiping his hands on a cloth. Now that he was in full daylight (so-called, but still damp and grey) we recognised him as Eddie March. He came straight to the point. 'Prince’ he said, 'you are on your way to Ingerlond, seeking your lost brother.'

Ali translated for me, though I had already picked up the gist. I assented.

'You will need a guide.'

At this Ali bridled somewhat. 'I can find our way around,' he muttered, but March pressed on.

'I should like to present myself to you in that capacity. I have been in most parts of the kingdom and I have friends who will help you in your search and provide us with lodging. Quite often, out of friendship for me, they will not charge you."