The Lords of Arden Read Online Free PDF

silent
city. Lancaster's son turned to face his royal cousin:
     ‘You bloody idiot, Ned, what do you mean
by this charade?’
     ‘My Lord, the idea was mine.’ Beauchamp
had a hand pressed to his side.
     ‘Ah, the Warwick bear-cub! He has a
tongue in his head, a will of his own, don't you, Ned?’
     ‘Harry, I'm equally at fault but Tom's
hurt.’
     ‘Are you?’ Derby snapped his fingers and
someone hurried forward with a torch.
     ‘I'll be all right,’ said Beauchamp,
looking white-faced and sick. ‘If your men hadn't yelled I shouldn't have been
taken off my guard!’
     The young man grinned. ‘You're a sullen,
ungrateful brat, Tom Beauchamp, and any more bright ideas will see you on the
next boat home and your sure come-uppance. You are hurt! Even you wouldn’t pump
blood for amusement's sake.’ Henry had a strong arm about the shoulders of both
boys, steering them out of the ruelle and towards the royal lodgings, backed by
his grim-faced retinue.
     The house was soon ablaze with light and Derby took control, ordering his cousin to bed, rousing the royal physician from his
slumbers to minister to the young Earl of Warwick. Then he set a double guard
on the King's chamber before retiring to his own and pouring himself a generous
cup of muscadel. His long handsome length, clothed in a bed gown of violet
brocade, edged with miniver, he was relaxing at last when a frantic knocking at
the door brought him to his feet. Thomas Beauchamp stood in the shadows,
swathed in his cloak.
     ‘Don't you ever do as you're bid, bear
cub? I thought you were in bed nursing your battle-scars.’
     ‘My lord, I have to speak with you.’ He
was pale, the young face earnest. Derby closed the door.
     ‘You'd better sit down. What did
Gaddesdon have to say about you?’ Gaddesdon was the King's own apothecary,
implicitly trusted.
     Beauchamp shrugged his shoulders. ‘I'll
mend; it’s just a flesh wound. All those months of practice sword-play and it
never quite prepares a man for the real thing. I'm sorry, I'd no idea he was in
such danger. I never thought …’
     ‘Boys rarely do. I imagine Philip felt a
bird in the hand tonight might compensate for a botched, resentful ceremonial
tomorrow. Our French friends do not trust us, it seems.’
     ‘Harry, it wasn't the Valois!’
     ‘Why do you say that?’ Derby sat beside
him on his bed and poured another cup of wine.
     Beauchamp was staring at his feet. ‘I saw
a face I knew, an English face.’
     ‘There are traitors in every camp.’
     ‘I don't want humouring, Harry. He was
Mortimer's man; he was at Windsor three weeks ago.’
     ‘A flight of fancy, Tom.’
     ‘Damn you, I'm certain! Which eliminates
abduction and points the finger at murder? But what has he to gain by it?’
     Henry got to his feet, pacing the floor. ‘Ned
is no longer the biddable schoolboy to be cozened into any enterprise; he
itches to take the reins into his own hands. Edward disposed of leaves a
younger, more tractable brother. Prince John's minority will give Mortimer a
few years of respite.’
     ‘Then we must act?’ The boy was prodding
his bandaged rib-cage experimentally.
     ‘When the time is ripe, not yet. And
better that Edward knows nothing of what you have just told me. He has enough
burdens to bear under that man's yoke and he is far too open to act naturally
when he returns to England. I want your oath on your silence before you leave
this room.’
     ‘You have it, of course.’
     ‘Good lad. Now, off to bed with you,
we've all got a part to play tomorrow. And Tom?’ Beauchamp half turned to face
him. ‘Bless you for your sharp eyes and quick wits. Never fret, we'll hold him
safe for England.’ He closed the door, set the pin in the latch and lay for a
long time, hands linked behind his blond head, grey eyes troubled. He heard the
first birds of a soft summer dawn before he finally drifted off to sleep.
     
    ~o0o~
     
    The June sunlight flooded through