Please keep in mind that you may find mistakes, such as misspelled words, as this chapter has only been read through twice.
Chapter 1
The King of England
Cold and snowy weather plagued
Sir William’s path to London. He was not alone, however;
Lady Rosabella, now his wife, accompanied him. A handful of Colcestrian knights
also rode with them, and a group of maids was with them as well. William’s
faithful squire, Chandler, carried his master’s standard high above in the
dreadful wind as their horses trudged through the muddied southern path away
from Colchester.
Sir William’s faithful horse, Donatello, still carried the knight. Though now the mighty Spanish
stallion had aged and slowed; for five years had now past since Henry VI’s
return home from his isolation in Poland. To the horses’ delight, their riders
were not in a rush, and so they only went on with an easy trot.
“Essex County has mended well
in these past years!” remarked William looking to
“You have rehearsed to me
several times that tale, husband,” replied Rosabella with snark.
“Aye! Important it was for
England!” said William as they rode. “But more importantly: those events led to
my first arrival in London, where I became the page and then squire to the
great Sir John Fastolf ! Oh, how life is now different than what it was before
Colchester’s destruction!”
“For the better, I hope,”
said Rosabella.
“Of course it is!” William
replied quickly.
Now it was not long after this
when the group came to London’s north wall and passed through the great stone
archway of Bishopsgate.
“London is a happy place compared
to when last we were here!” remarked Rosabella.
“Commerce and trade have returned
to the city,” said William. “John Hardyng has done well during his tenure as
regent!”
“Will he remain even after
Henry’s coronation?” asked Chandler riding up alongside William.
“Someone must continue to
govern,” replied William. “Henry, even now, is still too young to rule. Wisdom
is gained from experience and Henry little has none yet, and so, he will need
much wise counsel to become a good king. But let us not worry about such things
now. We must make our way to the estate and take shelter there from this
blasted weather!”
Their destination was not far
from the northern gate, despite London’s growth, and when they came to the old
estate, a young lad met them at the courtyard’s threshold. He was the same age
as Chandler, or close to it, and held himself upright like a servant might.
“Hello, my lord and lady!” he
said. “We have been expecting you; that is, Sir Borin has. He awaits your
arrival inside.”
“You are a squire?” asked
William as the party dismounted the horses. “Mark is it?”
“At your service, good sir
knight,” Mark said with a bow. “I am indentured to Sir Borin as his squire
after being released from the service of the traitor and disgraced knight,
Hadrian. Come now, the others await you!”
As the squire led the
travelers into the homely abode, William felt a sickening feeling in his gut
while dwelling on Hadrian’s well-being. It had been years now since their last
interaction and William wondered if it would be appropriate to even visit his
old friend.
“My lords!” the squire
declared as they entered the warm and brightly lit great hall. “The lord and
lady of Colchester have arrived safely!”
“Ah! Glad I am are to see
you, friend!” Sir Borin embraced William. “You have aged well! Although you do appear
much different than when we first met; I see more of your father now in your
face! And I am fond of your neatly-trimmed beard.”
“I will take your words as
praise!” answered William laughing and then also embracing Borin. “You look well!”
“Ah, as well as an old dirty blacksmith
and aging knight can look!” said Borin, with his familiar gruff and near-toothless
smile. “But Rosabella is now Lady of Colchester? Splendid news! I had heard of
your marriage but events here at the capital prohibited me from celebrating
with you in person,”
“Do not feel remorse for this,
sir knight,” said Rosabella.
“Were it possible, all of your
friends here in London would have attended the ceremony,” Borin bowed as he
took the lady’s hand and kissed it.
“Though we may be lord and
lady, Colchester still belongs to my mother,” said William.
“That is good,” said Borin. “But
by whose authority is this law?”
“John Hardyng used his power
as regent to make this so,” replied William. “We may have lost Colchester had he
not intervened; for there are lords vieing for control of my home.”
“He is expected to step down
as Henry is crowned,” said Borin. “Hardyng is aging, as are we all, and desires
to live out his days in a castle with servants attending his every need.”
“He has that now,” laughed
William.
“Yes, only he does not desire
to deal with the political duties which come with being Lord Protector.”
“Bless him!” said William
taking a seat. “Who will ensue him? Henry may be older now but he is still a
young child.”
“That is for the king himself
to decide,” replied Borin . “Though we lords and nobles may give suggestions, I
have my hopes the next regent will be as good as John Hardyng .”
“As do I,” said William. “For
he led us through some swell years here in England.”
“Yes, but while the homeland
thrives our territories in France struggle,” said Borin. “However, this trouble
should not be dwelt on now; for this week we celebrate the ascendancy of Henry
VI to his rightful place as our king!”
“When is the coronation?”
asked Rosabella. “It is soon but I cannot recall which day the message had
stated.”
“It is scheduled for the
sixth day of November,” answered Borin .
“Tomorrow?” asked William.
“Well, I suppose we should rest before then.”
They all rose from their
chairs and the travelers retired for the night. William and Rosabella slept in
the same room which he had stayed in during his time as Fastolf’s student .
Though William could not sleep and instead spent most of the night peering out from
the window looking towards the Tower of London. He was thinking again of
Hadrian as he perused the Tower’s magnificent roof and white stone. Snow began
falling heavily and this view caused William to recall more clearly his first
time in London.
“It all seems so long ago,”
he said to himself as he went to bed and slept.
When morning came, it was
cold and the light had not yet arrived. Rosabella had departed the room by the
time William stirred. He found her down in the hearth, which had already been
warmed by a strong fire.
“Goor morning, my lord,” said
Chandler greeting the knight. “Shall I fetch you something warm to wear and
perhaps food and drink?”
“Favourable it would be,”
replied William as he gently kissed his wife on the forehead and joined her as
they relaxing in the red-tinted hearth.
“I should like to remain here
for a few days after the coronation,” asked William.
“I do not desire to be far
from home for too long,” said Rosabella. “There is a strong affection in me for
Colchester now, and your mother may need care.”
“Aye, especially now after
several years of peace,” replied William. “Colchester is grand again and we
should enjoy it!”
“Your father would be proud
of what you have done with his lands!” Sir Walter walked in after overhearing
their words and greeted his friends. “Welcome back to London, my boy! Though,
you are no longer a boy, are you?”
“Walter!” William exclaimed
while embracing his fellow knight. “It has been too long, friend!”
“Yes, indeed it has,” replied
Walter. “M’fraid politics both here and in France have made me an extremely busy
man of late.”
“Please sit, good sir!”
William said.
At this moment Chandler
returned with sustenance for both William and Rosabella.
“Ah! Sir Walter!” exclaimed
the squire. “Forgive me sir; for I had no knowledge of your arrival. Do you
wish for food and drink as well?”
“I have already eaten but
would not deny a strong drink,” replied the Walter.
“So you say to have been busy
during these years?” William asked with curiosity. “What has been the cause of
this?”
“Our territories in France
have been threatened,” said Walter.
“Yes, I’ve heard,” answered
William. “I had almost sailed with Montacute for the battle at Orléans.”
“I am sure you heard how it
went,” said Walter with remorse. “Perhaps it was for the better you did not
join the siege. A cannonball struck the tower where Montacute took cover during
the bombardment. Shrapnel ripped half of his face off.”
“I grieved long when
receiving the message,” said William hanging his head.
“We all did,” said Rosabella
gently taking her husband’s hand.
“A great knight, he was!”
said Walter standing and taking his goblet of mead from Chandler. “Here’s to
the fallen! Our friend, Sir Thomas Montacute! And also to the others who have
left us.”
“To Sir Bendict and Fastolf!”
William stood and joined the toast.
“I saw Montactue at his
lowest whilst imprisoned at Paris,” said William. “You gain more respect for
someone when you see them beaten and vulnerable only to rise again!”
“Yes, indeed!” exclaimed
Walter. “Which is why I shall always revere people like Fastolf and your
father!”
“My lords,” Chandler entered
the hearth. “It is almost time for the coronation. We must prepare now.”
“It is finally time to taste
victory!” said Walter striding towards the door. “After all these years, it is
time to witness what we have desired for so long!”
“Which garb shall I fetch for
you, Sir William?” asked the squire. “I imagine you desire to look lordly
today?”
“Indeed, I do!” answered
William. “I should think the blue and gold tunic of my father is appropriate.”
Chandler took a quick bow
before going off to gather his master knight’s clothing. Rosabella had gone to
the window in the hearth, which overlooked the courtyard of the estate where
the knights of Colchester roamed. William came behind and held her as they
watched Sir Walter and his squire depart from the manor’s courtyard.
“Have you named this place
yet?” asked Rosabella.
“Red Lion Manor,” William
replied without much thought. “Strange it is for Fastolf to have never named
this homely abode. Perhaps he did and never gave me such knowledge.”
“It is a name worthy of both
his family and yours!” Rosabella smiled. Although she was born to a German
lord, she had taken a liking England and its heritage, especially their
heraldry and love of lions as a symbol of pride and strength.
“My lord,” Chandler returned
and stood patiently at the hearth’s entrance holding garments. “Your clothes,
sir, as requested.”
“I must also prepare,” said
Rosabella
As the squire aided Sir
William in dressing and fastening his sword on the belt, his wife went up to
the second floor with the maidservants. She returned shortly, wearing a red
dress with gold flowers sewn around the neckline and wrist.
“You look the part of a
courtly lady!” exclaimed William. “Though you do not wear the colors of my house.”
“Blue is expensive!”
Rosabella defended her choice.
“True!” replied William. “But
will the other lords know you are with Colchester while wearing red?”
“I believe they will!”
answered Rosabella taking the knight’s arm as he escorted her to the stables.
Upon arriving, the
stablemaster met them with a grim face.
“Lord William, ill news do I
have,” he said removing his grey cowl. “Your Donatella is sickly. He’s not
eaten since arriving and is behaving erratically. The poor horse has even
blindly walked into objects. I am afraid you cannot ride him at the moment.”
William went to the
stallion’s side and gently caressed his long mane and obsidian neck. The horse
was skittish at first, but when learning it was William who stood by, his
nerves calmed.
“Do what you can for him,”
ordered William helping Rosabella onto her steed. “Take these coins and retain
any further medical aid if needed. Donatello is dear to me; please help him.”
“Aye sir, I will!” replied
the stablemaster. “You need not worry; the horse is in good hands with me.”
William took a different
horse now, though with this news he was greatly saddened and bitter. Now he and
Rosabella, along with Chandler, rode through the streets of London.
“I am sorry, William,”
Rosabella reached out to grab his hand, even as they rode towards Westminster
Abbey. “Donatello will be back to full health and strength soon!”
“I admire your confidence,”
replied William. “However, I am afraid his symptoms are consistent with an
illness which is usually deadly among horses. It is something us farmhands are
familiar with all too well. Donatello may have been afflicted by mosquitoes.”
“There is nothing to be done
for him?” Rosabella asked with an unstable voice.
The knight said nothing in
response at that moment and only shook his head. But finally, just before
coming to Westminster, he spoke up.
“Donatello was aged before I
received him,” he said wiping a tear away. “He has been through several battles
and long cross-country treks. Perhaps it is his time. No finer horse has there
ever been, not even King Henry V’s fabled white mare could rival my friend.”
There was a large crowd
gathered in the streets around the great cathedral, which had remarkably
remained undamaged during the conflicts against the Duke of Bedford and his brother.
The abbey of Westminster was a grand place; the entrance was guarded by three pronounced
archways. Two smaller arches flanked the larger center sweep, which stood over
the strong wooden doors. Its outstretched pillars were topped with grey slopped
roofs and the structure's stone resembled the white face of the Tower of
London.
“Sir William; over here!”
Walter called out from among the crowd and sent armed guards to escort the lord
and lady of Colchester from the horses to the abbey.
William was glad to leave the
bustling and anxious crowd behind him, but when entering the abbey, he found
many people had gathered inside as well. A more calm feeling set in, as
soldiers protected the entrance and lined the choir hall leading up to the altar.
Here, before the dais, the knights joined other lords and ladies. The choir was
singing, as they had been for hours now. Their voices filled the halls of
Westminster with Latin words of praise and could even be heard even from
outside the strong stonework of the building.
“I understand little of what
they are singing,” said William as he listened. “Though it is soothing to my
soul.”
“They praise God for
protecting Henry VI,” replied Walter. “Methinks they should also thank you!”
“I could not have aided Henry
without God’s help, my friend,” William said quickly.
“You speak the truth,” said
Walter as the bishop’s precession marched down the aisle towards the altar.
“But you are an instrument, which the Lord saw fit to use.”
As the bishop disappeared
beyond a door to William’s left a group of lords came now and gathered on the
opposite side of the aisle.
“That is Richard of York,”
said Walter. “He is Henry VI’s older cousin.”
William observed the man; he
possessed a grim face, though not an angry one. He was gruff, but he was still young,
perhaps younger even than William. Richard knelt and crossed himself and took a
quick glance towards the Colcestrian, who looked away.
“William, the bishop comes!”
Walter whispered nudging his friend with an elbow. “He is the great uncle of
our little ruler, Henry Beaufort on Winchester.”
All the lords and ladies
knelt or bowed and also crossed themselves in reverence to Bishop Beaufort as
his entourage passed by. The choir continued vocalizing, even as another larger
crowd of richly adorned people paraded down the aisle. Many more lords and
ladies came, these were mostly those who presided over Parliament. John Hardyng
was with them.
Among them, in the center of
the gaggle, was little seven-year-old Henry VI. He wore a regal cape adorned with
the symbol of Richard III and bore a gold scepter. Being a child still, he
appeared frightened and nervous. As he continued down the aisle, the people
fell to their knees and remained there until Henry had gone up to the dais with
the clergy. Little Henry, at last, came to stand next to Beaufort and knelt
before the Bishop of Winchester, clasping his hands together.
Beaufort crossed himself and
began citing Scripture in Latin while a priest poured oil on the child’s head. Henry
attempted to remain composed but choked as oil spilled down his face and found
a way into his mouth. Still, the child remained on his knees with his hands clenched,
as if praying.
“Now rise, Henry the VI, King
of England, France, and Ireland,” these were the only English words William
heard Beaufort speak.
Henry VI stood and faced the
gathered thrall there before him at the abbey and was met with three citations
of “long live the king!”. William
smiled widely as he praised his ruler.
“Now we will follow and
escort him through London’s streets back to the Tower,” Walter leaned in
towards William’s ear as King Henry stepped down from the raised alter and
proceeded to exit the church.
A host of armed soldiers
surrounded the child king and he was flanked by many knights, including William,
who kept his left hand firmly on the hilt of his sword, underneath a cloak.
“You should have nothing to
fear here, my boy,” John Hardyng came alongside. “Look at how the people love
their king!”
“Tis good to see you, my
friend!” exclaimed William with joy. “But you must forgive my readiness; for we
knights are here to protect the king and I must not let my guard down. Our good
friend, Sir Benedict, once said a knight should never lose his edge.”
“Well, that man never lost
his edge!” said Hardyng. “He was an example of bravery and brawn, even up to
the last minute of his life.”
“I do miss him,” said
William, still surveying the crowd.
“We all do!” said Hardyng. “A
fine member of knighthood he was and it is a shame King Henry will never know
him.”
John Hardyng was correct, for
no threat appeared as they marched through the city. It was a long walk for the
seven-year-old Henry, and so he climbed atop a horse and rode most of the way.
They traveled underneath the great gates and archways protecting the causeways
leading to the Tower. Eventually they passed through Lion Tower. Now they were
away from the crowd and the guarding knights and soldiers became less nervous
as King Henry galloped beyond Middle Tower, which protected the outer ward, and
then finally Byward Tower.
However, the strong gates
were not closed, for the lords thought no danger was immediately present. Henry
was brought to the Tower and into the throne room, where he was at last seated.
All the lords and knights gathered around the throne and John Hardyng stood
closest to the young monarch.
“My king,” he began. “There
is an important matter now for you to decide as the first act of king: you must
choose a new regent to aid you in reigning. For I am aging and desire to withdraw
to my estate. Shall we discuss this matter now?”
Henry did not speak loudly,
he whispered timidly into Hardyng’s ear. No one could hear what the child king
said, and so they too silently gossiping amongst themselves.
“The king has expressed the
desire to be advised further on this matter,” Hardyng addressed the crowd. “No
decision will be made now. Disperse now and return to your business.”
They all departed, however,
William had the mind to visit Hadrian. And so he went up to the prison and
there was met by a resolute guard post of two soldiers.
“Halt there, lad,” said one.
“What business do you have here?”
“I come to see Hadrian,”
replied William.
“Simple answer,” said the
other guard. “However, we cannot just let anyone pass through on account of
their desires. No sir!”
“I am Sir William of
Colchester,” the knight spoke firmly. “The prisoner, Hadrian, is an old friend
and I insist you allow me to have an audience with him!”
The two guards looked puzzled
for a moment while still thinking over what William had said.
“A knight you say?” asked
one.
“A friend of one of the
prisoners you are?” asked the other. “You appear lordly and well-kept. I
suppose we can allow you a few moments with the captive. Follow me then.”
One guard remained, while the
other unlocked the outer prison door and led William in.
“Remind me who it is you
seek, sir?”
“His name is Hadrian,”
answered William
“Ah yes! The man accused of
treason?”
William attempted to ignore those
words but he also could not dispute them. Yes, his old friend and tutor was a
criminal guilty of crimes against the crown.
“But why throw our friendship
away so easily?” William asked himself out loud.
“What was that, sir?” asked
the guard.
“Merely talking to myself,
man,” replied William.
Mostly, the Tower’s prisons
were empty and the few inmates there were sick and deathly ill. They were
mentally unstable from their prolonged incarceration. However, there was one
man among them who did not appear crazed and unstable; Hadrian huddled in the
corner of his cell near the top of the Tower. William came to this cell and
leaned against the iron bars. The shadowy figure in the darkened corner lifted
its head and came towards the bars.
“My old friend?” Hadrian said
with tears as his hands stretched out for William’s through the bars. “I am
glad to see you! This is the only joy I’ve known for years.”
“It pains me to see you like
this,” said William, grabbing hold of his friends callused and dirtied hands.
“Help me leave this place!”
Hadrian pleaded through tears.
“You know this is
impossible,” replied William. “I cannot pardon a man like a king can.”
“But you have Henry’s ears?”
Hadrian sounded desperate. “And you are also close friends with Hardyng. Please!
Go to them and their advisors and plead my case! Tell them I am loyal to Henry
VI and desire to serve England again!”
“I desire this just as you
do,” said William. “Though a Knight of the Garter I am, this is beyond my
power. I cannot circumvent the law in any case.”
“Then why have you come
hither?” Hadrian asked pulling his hands away. “Are we not friends, allies? Or
stronger yet, brothers?”
“I still believe were are,”
William replied with sorrow. “I came because of this. I desired to see you.”
“Nay!” yelled Hadrian. The
guard nearby clenched his spear tightly. “We are not brothers! Not anymore. Leave
me and never return.”
“I still care for you,”
replied William. “And what you have taught me shall not be forgotten nor
wasted.”
With this William departed
with great depression. He returned to the Red Lion Manor where he was met with
the stablemaster.
“Do you have further news of
Donatello?” asked the knight.
“Nay, not yet, sir,” answered
the stablemaster. “The horse now rests, but m’fraid you won’t be riding him for
a long time, if ever again. I know a good horse is worth as much as land in
these days and Sir Fastolf’s steeds, like this one, were among the best in
England.”
“He is old now,” said William
stroking the stallion’s long, dark mane. “I do not wish pain upon my good friend.”
“Then there is something you
must know,” began the stablemaster. “I do not believe Donatello will recover.
His age is too great and he has lived longer than most horses in his
profession. If need be, I can make his passing swift and mostly painless.”
William nearly teared up
hearing these words; he only nodded and departed for the manor. There he returned
to the warmed hearth, which was his favourite room of the building. The strong
fire crackled and popped, turning the room’s darkening corners to an orange
hue. As William sat with a hand on his forehead and deep in thought, Rosabella
came behind him and embraced her husband.
No words were spoken; for she
sensed he was greatly distressed. With the next day, there came more politics
and William was summoned before the king and his council, alongside many other
knights.
“Sir William, come hither!”
John Hardyng called out as the knight of Colchester entered the hall. “May I
present Richard; cousin of Henry VI and my successor. He is next in line to be
Duke of York.”
William bowed before Richard,
showing respect for the man, as he was related to the king.
“You are known well in York,
Sir William,” said Richard. “Many thanks are in order for your service and
protection of my young cousin during the struggles against Henry V’s brothers.”
“My loyalty to king and
country is strong,” answered William.
“This is no secret!”
exclaimed Richard patting William on the shoulder. “If anyone ever doubted your
devotion they only need to learn of your travels to Poland, where you willingly
faced danger to returned our king to his rightful place. I know I can count on
you to be there again, should the throne need protection.”
“Listen here, all who have
gathered!” the king's herald called out over the crowd’s commotion. “It is
known John Hardyng of York has relinquished his office as regent. However,
since King Henry is yet young, someone must be chosen to fill this vacancy
until our ruler has developed more understanding of governance. Here is the
king’s proclamation: Sir Walter will take this mantle and advise the king on
government policies as regent of England!”
Murmurs spread throughout the
crowd, but this was mostly a popular decision among those gathered. Then the
king spoke up, though it was soft and his voice was childish and shaking.
“I know from what John
Hardyng has told me, Sir Walter had served my father and I well,” he said as
the crowd listened intently. “Because of this, I am certain Walter is a proper
choice. This pronouncement is final and takes place immediately, as John
Hardyng wishes to step down.”
“Richly said, for a child,”
Borin whispered to William.
“He has been educated well by
the finest teachers,” said William. “Methinks he will grow to be a wise king!”
“Indeed!” said Borin as the
crowd began to depart. “Though I am still remorseful our friend, John Fastolf,
cannot be here to instruct the boy.”
“As am I,” William said as he
and Borin also began to exit the Tower. “I received a grand education from
Fastolf… and also Hadrian.”
“Let us return to the Red
Lion now,” said Borin. “We have work to do even as winter strengthens. The knight’s
guild must be rebuilt now in order that we may provide King Henry with ample
fighting men!”
“And we have promising young
squires who will be great additions to the guild!” exclaimed William. “We will
continue my father’s and Fastolf’s work!”
“With a king to rule us again
I feel bolstered!” said Borin. “The fires of my smithy will burn to honour King
Henry VI just as they did his father. May I lend my talent in aiding England’s
security!”
Now as the two knights
arrived at the manor there was a man waiting. He was dressed in Colcestrian
garb and when William approached he bowed.
“Lord William,” he said. “I
bring news from your home, though it bodes ill for you and your mother.”
“Speak,” William urged as he grew
anxious and worried when hearing these words.
“I’m afraid your mother’s
health has taken a sour turn,” continued the messenger. “She has sent me to fetch
you and wishes for your quick return home.”
Without any more prompting,
William hurried into the manor and began packing his belongings. Chandler saw
this and aided his master, but Rosabella was confused and curious.
“Why the rush, dear William?”
she asked. “Is your business here in London complete now?”
“Mother is sickly,” he
replied as they gathered their possessions. “I do not know much but we must
return to Colchester now!”
As the Colcestrians prepared
for departure, Sir Walter arrived and entered the manor. He noticed the frantic
attitude of the maids and servants and of William. Chandler exited, going out
to the courtyard and towards the stables.
“What is this, Sir William?”
asked Walter. “There must be an urgent matter which explains your eagerness.”
William did not answer, he
only gave his friend a quick, but concerning look.
“Something has happened, my
boy?” asked Walter. “As the new regent I will have need of all the realm’s
knights, however, I see whatever ails you is urgent.”
“My mother’s health is poor,”
William finally answered as they came close to departing.
“Then, of course, you must
return home!” said Walter as the two knights walked out to the stables. “But
you do know if your king should need your service, you cannot ignore the call?”
William nodded and turned to
the stablemaster, who was prepared to help the knight before leaving.
“Here, sir,” said the
horse-keeper handing reins to the knight. “You may take my horse; she is strong
and nimble and will serve you well in Donatello’s absence. Nightingale is
well-tempered too! You’ll not find a more friendly horse in all of Britain!”
Sir William reluctantly took
hold of the grey spotted horse’s reins. He was saddened by having to leave his
old friend behind. There was nothing to be done about it, and his mother
awaited his arrival back home. And so, the Colcestrians departed the capital
and headed to the northeast coast of Essex County.
