The Fate of Princes Read Online Free PDF

heiress. The duke has always claimed that inheritance.’
    I stared at Belknap, that most knowledgeable of men.
    ‘If you are a good dog, Belknap, then still keep your ear hard to the ground.’ I went closer to him. ‘I would be gratified if you could pursue this matter yourself by stealth and secrecy.’

Four
    Once Belknap had left, I hurriedly dressed and, cloaked and hooded, made my way back to the riverside where I hired a skiff to take me upstream to the Tower. It was still early morning and a thick mist hung over the river, sealing it in silence and obscuring the buildings along the banks. Despite its reputation as a palace, a royal menagerie and treasury of the Crown, I always found the Tower a bleak, lonely place. On that morning, with the fog swirling round as I disembarked on the gravel quayside, I found it as sombre as ever, the huge, yellow-beaked ravens greeting my arrival with their raucous cawing as I made my way up into the entrance. An officer wearing the royal livery greeted me.
    There were the usual interminable questions and checks from the guards as we entered the darkness of the gateways which controlled the entrances to the concentric ring of towers.
    Eventually we came to the royal apartments. Brackenbury was waiting, ushering me into a luxurious, spacious room, with clean rushes on the floor. I remember it well with its blood-red drapes, huge bed covered by a blue and gold canopy and the chests stacked high, some open, spilling out clothes, belts, hose and other apparel. A stark contrast to the buildings I had just passed through.
    Sir Robert Brackenbury was small, stout, deep-chested, with huge, long arms which made him anexcellent swordsman. His face was swarthy, bearded, his dark hair hung in ringlets which he constantly wore gathered behind his head. He was a northerner, born near Baynards Castle, and had served as Richard’s treasurer. On any other occasion we would have greeted each other most civilly for we were on friendly if not cordial terms. On that particular morning, however, he greeted me as an enemy. He dismissed the officer, showing me to a chair. He did not bother to offer a goblet of wine or the tray of pastry doucettes I saw standing on the table.
    ‘I received your message, Lord Lovell.’ His voice was curt, betraying a northern burr.
    I waited until he had sat down, and leaned across.
    ‘Sir Robert, we have known each other what, eight, ten years?’ He stared unblinkingly back. ‘Sir Robert,’ I persisted, ‘I am not an inquisitor. The King has received your news.’ I shrugged. ‘Naturally, there are questions to ask.’
    ‘Naturally,’ Brackenbury sardonically replied. ‘But it is the answers which I find hard.’
    ‘Sir Robert,’ I began, realising that any attempt at tact or diplomacy was proving fruitless. ‘You were appointed as Constable on 17 July last?’
    ‘Yes, I was.’
    ‘You took up office immediately?’
    ‘I did.’
    ‘And you checked on your charges, the young Princes?’
    ‘The bastard lords, Edward and Richard?’ Brackenbury was quick to reply. ‘Yes, twice,’ he continued. ‘The Princes were in the Garden Tower overlooking the river. The King had instructed me, for reasons of security, to remove them deeper into the Tower and to stop them playing in the gardens.’
    ‘Why was that?’
    ‘There were rumours of plans to free the Princes. Anattack from the riverside would have been easy to achieve. They would not be the first captives to escape from the Tower.’
    ‘And where were they moved to?’
    ‘To one of the turrets in the White Tower.’
    I thought quickly about what I knew of the fortress. Brackenbury’s answer made sense. The White Tower was a huge donjon; it could only be stormed once the rest of the Tower had been taken. There were two floors, the upper containing the Chapel of St. John and other royal offices, but there were chambers in each of the four turrets.
    ‘You checked the Princes? When again?’
    ‘About two