The Uncrowned Queen Read Online Free PDF

like a king when I get home.”
    There was a moment’s shocked silence and then they found themselves laughing, the whole of Edward’s party, at the man’s audacity. Laughing, almost sobbing, after the tension, the fear, the fury of the last weeks. It was good to laugh, for now the future must be faced. A future as exiles.
    â€œI count it a fair bargain since you have brought us to this place. Alkmaar, you called it?”
    The captain bowed. Then, as the king dumped the cloak into his hands, the man nearly dropped it with sudden knowledge of his own temerity.
    â€œAnd what do the people of Alkmaar do?”
    The king was determined to sound cheerful as he cast his eyes around the little town. It was set among dunes that stretched away north and south.
    Master Conyers spoke cautiously as he measured the weight of the cloak. “I believe they make cheese, sire.”
    The king glimmered a brief smile. “Ah, well then, that would explain the smell. And I had thought it was rotting fish!”
    His men laughed again, giddily. Their ribs ached. Edward, too, guffawed and clapped a few on the shoulders as if he’d made the best joke in the world.
    A girl, a servant out early to collect bread for her family, also giggled as she passed the group. They looked so odd: filthy, and yet well dressed at the same time. But their weapons made her nervous.
    Her laughter triggered the image of another girl’s face for Edward Plantagenet. Anne. It was a sigh that found a name before the king could prevent it. Could she see him now, if he sent his thoughts to her?
    â€œDid you say something, Your Majesty?” William Hastings, lord high chamberlain of England, suppressed a grimace. Already it sounded false, calling Edward a king.
    His master, alert to the quickly disguised uncertainty, smiled brightly. “I must be tired, William, when thoughts speak aloud.” Edward inspected his sword and wiped the blade against his surcoat; he could not allow seawater to linger on the steel and damage its edge. “Form them up, William. But first, has anyone a spare cloak? This wind is cutting.”
    â€œA cloak for the king?”
    The party of men rummaged among their few remaining possessions. Richard of Gloucester, Edward’s youngest brother, hauled out a spare riding cloak. He’d managed to hang on to his saddlebags when they’d boarded the cog in Lynn; the whole party would be grateful for their contents in the days to come.
    â€œHave this, brother. It’s sadly creased, of course, but serviceable. Not up to your usual standards, though.”
    The brothers shared a look and a laugh. Edward was famous for loving clothes.
    â€œOh, I don’t know, Richard. Green has always suited me, so I’m told.” As Edward swirled the heavy garment around his shoulders, the softness of the cloth, the waxed silk of its lining and, most of all, the deep forest green brought more pictures into his mind—Anne dressed in green. Anne reaching out to him. Anne kissing him. Anne lying with him as he…
    â€œThe party is ready, sire.” Ready for the future, said Richard of Gloucester’s confident tone. Ready for you to lead us, brother.
    Edward smiled just as confidently and turned to face his companions. “Well now, here’s a pass.”
    Men raised their heads to catch the king’s words and those who’d been sitting on the dock scrambled to their feet.
    â€œAnd I’m very annoyed.”
    One or two laughed at the ironic sally.
    â€œYes, very annoyed. Mortally annoyed.”
    The king’s tone was savage and his sword hissed out of its scabbard in a flashing wheel of light, startling the seabirds, crying, into the bright air.
    â€œWe will take our country back, hand over hand.”
    Less than twenty men to regain England? Edward’s spell was strong; not one of his companions looked around in doubt.
    â€œWe have friends, good friends. And we have