The Court of the Midnight King: A Dream of Richard III Read Online Free PDF Page A

ten-year war!”
    “Forgive me.” Eleanor folded her arms and exhaled. “This has been a terrible day.”
    “The Duke of York did nothing wrong,” said Anne Beauchamp. “He constantly swore fealty to King Henry, only to be used and cast aside. His quarrel was not with Henry, but with Marguerite and the corrupt influence of her councillors. In the end he had no choice but to make his rightful claim to the throne. My father-in-law Salisbury also died today.”
    “Yes. I’m sorry.”
    “Richard failed, but he’s made a path for his son. My husband will not let this rest. There is a chosen king, and it is not Henry! My husband the Earl of Warwick will put young Edward upon the throne, because he alone has the might to do so. Then we’ll have peace.”
    Eleanor’s face was thoughtful. “I don’t wish to argue with you, Anne, but I don’t believe any king is divinely appointed. There’s only the best appointed, the one most suited to the position at the time.”
    “Divinely chosen, best appointed,” the Countess of Warwick said dismissively. “There is always one who’s destined to be king. Otherwise, our work within there –” she swept a hand at the house, her finger indicating the cellar meeting place – “is wasted.”
    “My dear, it’s never wasted,” said Dame Eylott. Her heart-shaped face was gentle, her voice steel. “We work for knowledge and healing, not for the triumph of one side against the other.”
    “It follows, therefore, that we work for the king who may best bring that healing,” said Anne. “An end to this turmoil.”
    Kate saw a quick glance pass between Dame Eylott and Eleanor. She wondered what it meant. Their arguments were hard to follow sometimes. She would ask her mother later.
    “None of us disagrees with you there,” said the Dame. “Come in now, and warm yourselves. You’ll rest here tonight, of course.”
    “Thank you, but I cannot,” said Edith Hart. She took Raphael’s hand. He stood close against her, looking very young for all his brave words. “My elder son, Simon, is being brought to me at the Augustinian Friary. We must go to meet him. Then I’m taking the boys home with me, at least until the spring. Simon is heir to what little land we gratefully possess.”
    “May he guard the Hollow well, and the Great Mother aid him,” Dame Eylott said darkly. Each woman kissed Edith in turn and said their farewells. Kate kept her eyes on Raphael.
    He stared back, his green eyes bereft. She didn’t want him to go but it was too late. Edith was trudging away. Kate watched as they passed through the courtyard gate and into grey-white gloom beyond, drinking in her last glimpse of the boy, who – if fortune had taken a different path – might have been her dear friend. They hadn’t even said goodbye.
    ###
    The way back to their demesne in Derbyshire was long. Rutted roads twisted south and west of York, taking Eleanor, Kate and their party through bleak hills. The small line of humans and horses was tiny beneath the vast winter sky.
    With them rode Thomas Copper and his son Tom, Eleanor’s servants Martha and Nan, and her friend Friar Bungay. Thomas had advised against their York trip, but Eleanor must attend to her business in the hidden world, as did any bishop in the outer world. Dame Eylott, Mater Superior of the Motherlodge, had summoned her.
    Night was coming down, wet and chill. A few disconsolate foot-soldiers wandered down the road, but left the party unmolested. Scenting the air like a hound, Eleanor fancied she could hear distant voices and smell the bitter smoke of camp-fires. Such fools, she thought, these warring men.
    They broke their journey at Eriswater, where Lady Eleanor Lytton was always welcome at the Crescent Moon Inn. Thomas and Tom slept above the stables, Friar Bungay in a downstairs room, Eleanor and Katherine in the best apartments on the top floor, with Nan and Martha in an adjoining chamber at the head of the narrow stairs. As usual,