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@coz1 I've hit your 50% mark, which just happens to be the turning point / trigger point where York attacks Somerset and the King at St. Albans.

Wow! Amazingly well done, those scenes leading up to this.

It is a resolution of one matter and the beginning of quite another. I'm curious to see how the nobility and the people view York's action, now that he has "freed" the King from his advisors.

I know little of the actual history, nor how closely your story is to the actual events, but I'm definitely looking forward to more as I continue reading this on TWO devices now (to speed up my pace). :D

Thanks!

Rensslaer
 
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@coz1 I've hit your 50% mark, which just happens to be the turning point / trigger point where York attacks Somerset and the King at St. Albans.

Wow! Amazingly well done, those scenes leading up to this.

It is a resolution of one matter and the beginning of quite another. I'm curious to see how the nobility and the people view York's action, now that he has "freed" the King from his advisors.

I know little of the actual history, nor how closely your story is to the actual events, but I'm definitely looking forward to more as I continue reading this on TWO devices now (to speed up my pace). :D

Thanks!

Rensslaer
Once again I must thank you for reading through what has become quite long. And I'm really pleased that the lead up to St. Albans works. I look at this story as incremental steps. Each one leading to the next. St. Albans was obviously one of those benchmarks and really does swing the tale from what it was to what it will become (as I imagine those that have read it will tell you.)


And on that score to all, we are just about to another of those benchmarks so allow me to continue with part 8 of the chapter coming in just a moment. Thanks to all for reading and giving comment and especially to those that voted for this in the recent ACAs and helped pull a first place out of it. I am tremendously honored. :)
 
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Dunstable Priory, July 1460

The rain started two days ago and had not let up. The roads were nearly impassable yet men still came to volunteer for the Earls and their charge. And as they grew in numbers, Warwick was keen to press forward with as much speed as they were able. It was Lord Fauconberg who suggested the men needed a rest and time to get dry. The Earl was not amused but granted it and sat next to a fire in the priory dining hall while he stewed. He did not shift when Edward entered with a fresh cask, “Monks always have the best wine!”

“You take a care with that, young sir,” Warwick answered as he looked to the flames, “We have not the time for you to nurse your head in the morn for we depart at first light.”

Edward smiled before uncorking the small barrel and tipping it up. After a healthy pull, he offered it to his cousin, “It’s quite good. And fortifying.”

“I’m certain that it is, yet we’ve wasted time enough,” Warwick kicked a foot to the fire to spark it again, “That feint to Ware was unnecessary. It cost us precious hours to turn back.”

“It was believable enough...that the King might run and hide,” Edward suggested as he found a stool and sat.

Warwick looked at his cousin without amusement, “Yet he does not and is still to Coventry. I know not why he does not ride out to meet us unless his arms remain too few. And if so, we must make haste to take advantage of it.”

“I understand the bold action, cousin,” Edward acknowledged, “Yet we do no good if we are exhausted when we face them. And face them we shall. This charade of merely speaking to the King...how much longer may we abuse it?”

“For as long as it takes,” Warwick turned back to the fire.

Edward took another pull of wine and then questioned, “Any word from your man Fulk?”

“Painfully silent,” the elder Earl replied, “I imagine that the Queen attempts to sway Norfolk so I may only hope that Fulk reached him in time.”

“And what of my father?” Edward asked, “We were to send word from London. I doubt that there has been reply?”

Warwick gave nod, “Word was sent yet it does take days. Ireland be not so near and messages are not safe in any ways. One more reason to trust my man.”

“I must admit, cousin...it is admirable,” Edward smiled, “The men you hold round you are quite efficient. It was a shame to leave Wenlock with your father for I’ve noticed his excellent administrative capacity.”

Warwick gave nod, “Indeed why I instructed him to stay in London. My father would require it.”

“And Sir William Hastings...seems an able man,” Edward followed.

“Quite so,” the older cousin replied, “And one you should find a closeness. Not only is he an excellent soldier, but next to Sir Fulk, Sir William is as discreet as you may find. Could be useful to you in the future given your...flirtations.”

Edward took another pull of wine before asking with a smirk, “Does that bother you? My flirtations?”

“I could not care less,” Warwick was plain as he finally took the offered cask, “What one does abed is not my concern. You are young. Sow your oats as you may. Just remember what we do here.”

A crack of thunder outside was loud and startled them both. As they looked to the door, a shaded figure stood there drenched from the rain. When he stepped into the candle light, Warwick finally smiled, “My Lord of Norfolk! What great vision you are!”

“I am worse than a wet dog, sir!” Norfolk shook himself violently to shake off the wetness and then spied the cask of wine, “Ah! We’re drinking!!”

Edward handed over the wine happily, “We are well met, my Lord.”

“Indeed we are, my young Earl of March,” Mowbray smiled before taking a long pull. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and continued, “I must say...you appear entirely in your element.”

Edward replied with a bow, “My family does train me well, my Lord.”

Norfolk handed back the cask and pulled off his cloak. Standing next to the fire to dry, he kept his gaze to Edward, “I am quite serious, sir. You look the perfect warrior. Now this one? Hmm.”

“Jest as you may, my Lord...” Warwick shifted to the Duke, “...yet we have been awaiting your word for some days.”

“I received your note,” Norfolk turned his front to the fire, “Your man is quite thorough. I did not trust in the reply. Instead I made quick haste to the side of the King as any good Lord should. And do you know what I found?”

Warwick nearly spit, “I may only imagine. The poor visage of that whore and not His Grace.”

“It is not such a poor visage as that,” Mowbray turned back with a grin, “She is very pretty. Yet indeed...he was to prayer and she would not see me for some reason. My idiot step-father Lord Beaumont begged me stay for she would be but a moment yet I did suggest that I held other engagements.”

“I should think that this was not greeted with kindness,” Edward suggested.

Norfolk smiled to him, “I am not like to treat my step-father with kindness so I hold no expectation that I will receive it in turn. Yet he was...perturbed. Which I rather enjoy.”

“I imagine you do,” Edward laughed.

Warwick pressed, “Enough of this bandying about. Who else was there? Wiltshire, I am certain. Yet what of Northumberland? The other northerners?”

“My Lord of Warwick...” Norfolk grinned, “...you are not one for teasing. I rather enjoy it. Yet if you must be so matter of fact, then yes...Wiltshire was there looking as cowardly as ever. So too the Lord of Shrewsbury always attendant. There are a few Percy northmen under Lord Egremont, yet not their full contingent. Of course...there is also the Duke of Buckingham.”

“We knew he would show at some time,” Warwick turned back to the fire to think, “I told you, Ned. It was only a ruse.”

Edward took another pull before handing the cask to Norfolk, “Then I suppose we are now equal. We gained time by sending him north and lost it by the sojourn to Ware. Yet my Lord of Norfolk...what of my brother in law Exeter? Is he in the King’s camp? And Somerset...has he also returned?”

“I did pull from Beaumont that Somerset has been recalled though he was not there by the Queen’s side,” Norfolk replied before taking another swig, “Yet the Lord of Exeter is curious. He appears to have disappeared. Quite the trick.”

Warwick was shocked, “Disappeared?! Has she done something with him?”

“Not so untoward as that, sir,” Norfolk responded with humor, “I believe he was well shamed by his failure yet again to the seas and has taken a reprieve from court. I’ve done it myself many times so I could not blame him. However, it is curious for one simple matter.”

Edward was intrigued, “What would that be? I’ve never known Henry Holland to be that interesting.”

“Tis not Holland,” Norfolk kept his grin, “Yet one I think that shows to court in his stead. Lord Edmund Grey of Ruthin. I say it is curious because he is a curious sort. His mother was Constance Holland, daughter of the first Duke of Exeter. In fact, she was betrothed as a young girl to my very own uncle, Thomas de Mowbray. It was never consummated yet my father was always kind to her after my uncle’s death. Instead she married Sir John Grey. You lads may remember his youngest son Sir John Grey of Groby. I believe he was with Lord Rivers to Sandwich before his poor vanishing act.”

Edward grinned, “He is married to a nymph, I will tell you.”

“Not the point,” Warwick grew impatient and looked to the Duke, “What is so damned curious about all of this?”

Norfolk sighed in his humor, “Oh, Richard. I thought your uncle of York tedious. I fear you may be growing too much like him. Unlike his charming son, here.”

“Your history lesson is tedious, sir,” Warwick answered, “I did desire to see you, but I need not family genealogy.”

The Duke held his smile, “And yet...I think that you may. For you see, through his mother this Baron Edmund Grey of Ruthin believes that he is owed the manor at Ampthill. Currently, it is already under dispute between the current Duke of Exeter and Lord Cromwell. Cromwell is ancient as you well know. Thus it will fall into the hands of our very Henry Holland owing to his father, the brother of Constance. Unless...”

“Unless this Baron Edmund is granted to him what is due,” Edward was quick to answer.

Norfolk grinned, “Very good, my young Lord. Well done.”

“It is not ours to give at the now,” Warwick suggested.

Norfolk continued to grin, “Not yet.”

“Yet we may promise, cousin,” Edward replied, “Send some word to him. Allow him to know that we are sore hurt at his position and we, having no great love for my brother in law, could easily plead such a strong case to His Grace as part of our mission.”

Warwick was suddenly interested and asked, “Do you know this Lord well? For I must plead that I do not.”

“We are like cousins,” Norfolk answered as he warmed his front side, “Not so terribly close, yet friendly. And I must say that I applaud the man. Take the moment when Exeter is absent from the King and attempt to gain preference? We’ve all done it when presented with a rival. If only...”

Edward added, “If only the King would hear him.”

“Precisely so,” the Duke finally dropped his smile, “For he will find what we all find. There is no audience with His Grace these days. He is held away from us all.”

Warwick gave nod, “Which is why we are here. To force the issue.”

“And where is the Lord of York?” Norfolk looked to both Earls, “Has this not been his argument for the last decade? Should he not be the one to press it again?”

The young Earl smiled, “He is informed of our progress, my Lord. I am certain that my father is quite enthusiastic and will follow in short time.”

Norfolk kept a keen gaze to them both, “I must say...this campaign has been speedier than the past. York always takes his time. Yet the two of you...it is impressive.”

“We have yet to meet challenge,” Warwick was certain, “Yet we are ready and make quick pace about it. In truth, I smart for we could have this army to Coventry within twenty four hours if only this rain would let up.”

Norfolk skewed a brow, “And you wish to destroy these men that you hold? I suggest you take a pause.”

“I am sick to death of all this parlay!” Warwick was certain, “All it does is keep from the inevitable.”

“And yet it will happen,” Norfolk was just as certain, “You hold with you the very Archbishop of Canterbury, sir. And I am told some...prelate from Rome? They will wish to talk. And Buckingham as well. Always and forever.”

Edward questioned, “I am told that the Duke of Buckingham tires of talks and is willing to meet head on. Is this not true?”

“My Lord Edward...” Norfolk found his grin once more, “...there are few things the Duke of Buckingham appreciates more than the sound of his own voice. If given chance, he will use it. And I believe that the two of you...all of you...should take that and use it yourselves.”

Warwick gave a slight nod, “Yes...indeed...we all should use it.”

“Not we, my Lord,” Norfolk corrected, “You. I shall stake no claim to what happens next. Yet I will not be party to it. Of that, you may be assured. I come to you as a true broker...a friend. While I have always found the Duke of York to be tedious, he is also honest without fail. Or...mayhap he fails too much by being so honest. I do not know. Either way...he is a far sight better than anyone that sits about His Grace the King. And that includes his wife.”

“My Lord of Norfolk...John...” Warwick shifted to him with great seriousness, “...we must have your strength to prevail.”

Richard...” Norfolk grinned as he too used the familiar, “...I’ve seen your army. I think it double what the Queen holds at the now. Your sense of speed is correct, yet be prudent with it. Head to Northampton. Present yourself. It is halfway between here and Coventry. Allow His Grace the moment. I know not what happened to Ludford Bridge for I was not there, yet this is not that. Not yet. From my telling, you hold with you a sizable amount of Lords both spiritual and temporal. This is crucial. And if not...then...you must be prepared.”

Edward stood tall, “We are, my Lord. And we could use your strength in that endeavor.”

“I like you,” Norfolk winked to him, “I see your father, yet you are taller. You show more spirit. Keep that, my Lord. For it will all be lost without it.”

Warwick was disappointed, “I had hoped that you would be to our side, sir.”

“I am on your side, my Lord of Warwick...” the Duke of Norfolk smiled to him, “...when you win.”
 
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Goodnight me, a Duke who's sensible!
 
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Goodnight me, a Duke who's sensible!

Indeed. What is this? A duke who refuses to get involved in this farce of a war? A strange man indeed for these times...

York's position remains good, so Margaret must have something up her sleeve. What is she planning?
 
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I did enjoy that, not least because it featured several of my favourite characters. I do love Norfolk who remains the most sensible person in this work by a country mile as well as the most fun, his combining with Edward to tease Warwick was great fun and even managed to squeeze in some some foreshadowing about Baron Grey.

And so onto Northampton where I'm sure the talk will go well and not end up as something completely different.
 
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Goodnight me, a Duke who's sensible!
Norfolk is indeed a great one to write for because his view is unique among all of these others.

Indeed. What is this? A duke who refuses to get involved in this farce of a war? A strange man indeed for these times...

York's position remains good, so Margaret must have something up her sleeve. What is she planning?
I will leave it to others to decide if it is a good quality or no, but Norfolk is that creature that looks out for his own best interest. One could say that all of these are that, but Norfolk (in my mind) just wants what is his and cares not for all the rest. He will always try to pick the side of the winner if he can.

I did enjoy that, not least because it featured several of my favourite characters. I do love Norfolk who remains the most sensible person in this work by a country mile as well as the most fun, his combining with Edward to tease Warwick was great fun and even managed to squeeze in some some foreshadowing about Baron Grey.

And so onto Northampton where I'm sure the talk will go well and not end up as something completely different.
As mentioned, I do love to write for him. Richard is so serious and Warwick so ambitious. Margaret too. Henry is Henry. Exeter is...Exeter. Edward can be fun but he too shows ambition. It is good to have one somewhat care free character that allows some mischief.

Also, good that you picked up on the foreshadowing. Remember that. ;)
 
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Dublin, Ireland, July 1460

Sir William Oldhall ushered forth the Castilian ambassador Alfonso de Palencia into the solar in Dublin Castle and then bowed as he presented, “Your Excellency, I give to you Richard, Lord Duke of York and his son the Earl of Rutland.”

York was quick to stand, “Let us not be so formal...please. It is a great honor indeed, sir. I could not believe that King Enrique would be so kind when I wrote to him.”

“My master is honorable to his family, my Lord,” Alfonso answered with his own bow, “He was heart sick when he heard of your plight.”

Richard gestured for a chair, “Such a family he has. Quite.”

The ambassador sat gently to the chair with a kind eye, “I am to say to you, my Lord, that His Grace King Enrique would give to you anything within his power so that you may be fulfilled. For the peace of such honored cousins.”

“That is very generous,” the Duke offered his guest some wine, “This would not be repayment enough, yet I do thank His Grace the King.”

With an agreeable nod after tasting the wine, Alfonso smiled, “One should expect no less from the gracious Lord of Plantagenet.”

“Yes...” Richard sat back to his settle and crossed a leg, “...we do go back some ways. As I know it, your master...the King of Castile...he does find right of line to John of Gaunt. Quite directly in fact as that Prince held an honorable wife in Constance of Castile.”

Alfonso de Palencia also sat back with a smile, “That is quite true, my Lord. Which is why he is so interested in your circumstance. He believes it too poor that family cannot speak. That is...not the law of God.”

“Are you a man of God, sir?” Richard questioned, “A man of the cloth?”

The ambassador held up his hands, “A mere secretary, my Lord. No thing more.”

“So it shouldn’t bother you that this new Queen Joan of Portugal...that she too is not far removed from our Plantagenet tree?”

Alfonso leaned in with a whisper, “It is questioned everywhere, my Lord. Yet the Holy Father has permitted it. It is hoped that His Grace will find a healthy heir.”

“I encourage it,” Richard exclaimed, “None could be better for our continental cousins but to strengthen ties. And find good and strong issue. That, sir...that is a thing that may bring peace.”

The Ambassador was not entirely sure, “Yet...within your plight, my Lord...as His Grace worries...he is not unaware of the past. Though he be a young King, he is fair educated and knows well of his cousins across the sea.”

“I hope that he does!” Richard was adamant, “He should! I truly do hate to dwell on it, yet most of my plight is with parvenus. Advenedizo. Those that should not hold power and yet they do...from more than imperfect place. I shall give example. While your fine King, and his wife for that matter, both hold true lineage from honored marriages, these to England for these last many years are born from bastardy. And given place! When true born men should hold the right of service to any King. It is...well, it is unnatural. It should not be.”

“I am certain that he would agree,” Alfonso was unsure in his reply.

Richard stood to refill the ambassador's cup himself, “They grow like weeds. One set it is...and then another. One may not get rid of them unless they find a rat catcher.”

“Si...yes, that is terrible,” Alfonso de Palencia allowed.

The Duke sat once more and showed a firm eye, “Which is why I wish to preserve the finest of stock for mine own family. I cannot know nor should I care at this date what happens to court in England. I have been shunned. Yet I shall not allow my children to suffer.”

“My Lord...” Alfonso tried to delicately broach the subject, “...it is said that your own are marching about England at the now. To what end...no one may know. Yet His Grace King Enrique would care. Let us be plain, my Lord of York...you are waging a war against your King.”

Richard smiled, “Words are tricky things, are they not? Mayhap some thing lost in translation. I wage not war against anyone. As I have said...as the Holy Father himself proclaims...King Henry’s subjects are his and belong to no one else. Not these advenedizo. Not these bastards. True born men should sit Council and advise. Would you not agree?”

“That would be desired,” Alfonso gave nod.

“And so here we are,” the Duke sat back once more, “A thing I have fought for during my entire adult life. Good men have lost and perished. Poor men have gained and our King...my cousin...would be heart sick if he truly knew how horrible it was.”

Alfonso de Palencia showed a solemn eye, “That is a travesty, my Lord. His Grace King Enrique would not wish that for you.”

“Nor I him,” Richard pointed, “For I understand things are not so terribly comfortable to Castile.”

“He is...a most gracious and wondrous King,” the Ambassador suggested.

Richard sat forward with alacrity, “Which is why I wished to treat with him. Of all the Princes in this world, your master is the most kind. I have looked for some time to match my son and I can find no one else. Not a jot. Certainly not in the French lands. Nor anywhere else. No, sir. It is only to Castile that I see a proper matching.”

“I am...sure that His Grace would be pleased,” Alfonso allowed.

The Duke stood to the hearth, “That we hold such affinity...familial and otherwise...I think it best that my son Edward find a Castilian bride.”

“Your son Edward?” the Ambassador questioned as he looked to the second son, “Do you not mean this one here...Lord Edmund?”

“No...” Richard turned quickly, “...of course not!”

Edmund had remained silent but finally spoke, “My brother should marry first. It is his right.”

“Ed will find his bride,” Richard sat close to the Ambassador, “His time will come. Yet it is my first son that asks. Your King holds a sister, young though she is.”

Alfonso was quick to reply, “She is nine years in age, my Lord.”

“Perfect,” the Duke gave nod, “And Edward is naught but eight and ten. So close! She is young...yes. But this Isabella will grow into her role. Is that not what her brother wishes? Or...would he rather hold her near while she remains second in line to his throne. Which he has done little to offer otherwise?”

Ambassador allowed a grin, “I am not certain that your son would care much for La Princesa, my Lord. She is strong willed even at her age.”

“So is my son,” Richard smiled, “I think a good match.”

“She holds other offers, my Lord,” Alfonso suggested, “From Princes who are not so...troubled.”

Richard moved closer, “I may sweeten the pot, sir. For I tell you a thing that I would tell no one else. My son...some day...will be the very King of England. What say you to that?”

“How will you manage it?” the Ambassador was skeptical.

The Duke of York stood and moved back to the hearth, “It is a question, sir. And the one I put to you. I love His Grace the King of Castile. Does he love me in return? Or...would he wish to continue offering comfort to...advenedizo? Would he wish it in his realm? Should we wish it in ours?”

“What...” the Ambassador considered, “...what would you do for him?”

Richard turned with a smile, “Now we are to the meat on the bone. Indeed. You may tell him that once we hold His Grace King Henry to ear, the King to this realm would wage war against those within what is left of France. The south...barring Gascogne of course...is entirely open. Will be, if I have any say. This Republic of Toulouse? They already side with the French King as he hides beneath his bed. Those to Italia? Naples is yours, sir. So too Aragon. We hold no concern there. If we could but...hold hands. Become fast friends. All of this trouble to ancient Gaul...it should be over.”

“That is a rather lofty goal,” Alfonso de Palencia answered plainly, “And yet so difficult to achieve while you sit to this place in Irlanda.”

The Duke held his smile, “That is just it, sir. It is my son making his name. That is why he should marry La Princesa. I tell you that he will be King. I will make it so.”

“Begging your forgiveness, my Lord Duke...” the Ambassador carefully answered, “...yet you may not do much while you are here.”

Richard stood as tall as he might, “I leave soon, sir. Yet I may not do so without the assurance of our revered cousin to Castile. I would treasure his word among all others.”

“He would...say to you, I am certain...that you should take what is yours, my Lord,” Alfonso answered, “And he would be happy to treat at such time.”

“Does he not wish a King as son?” the Duke asked with irritation.

Alfonso de Palencia answered plainly, “He would need to see the King...my Lord.”
 
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An alliance with Castile for the Yorkists could change everything... but it would erase most of the doubts that York wants to seize the throne.

Is York planning on having Henry make his son heir by disowning Margaret's... illicit child?

France seems to be doing poorly. What's up with them?
 
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An EUIV game where England gets a good marriage alliance with Castille and takes continously bites out of France is a strong early start for them.

Especially if they go on to conquer the rest of the islands (and they should, given they cannot afford for Ireland to be loose after what just happened, and Scotland without France protecting them is screwed).

It's great news for Castille as well who now have no real rivals if they manage to personal union Aragon. No France means they're top dog in Papal matters too, or take their place as rivals with the HRE (especially if they keep Naples).

Could prove very interesting.
 
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The Ambassador was not entirely sure, “Yet...within your plight, my Lord...as His Grace worries...he is not unaware of the past. Though he be a young King, he is fair educated and knows well of his cousins across the sea.”
In 1460 Enrique IV was 35. He was hardly young...

So, good old Ned is to marry Isabel (no bride for you, Fernando). Bye, united Spain... me likes it. Unless he marries Juana, the only daughter of Enrique, who is still in the making (she was born IOTL 1462). So I earthly advise to marry her to any Portuguese Prince at hand.

By all means.

Castile and Aragon, hand in hand, to gut France. Lovely. If you happen to have France destroyed and humbled by 1513, I would be jolly delighted. Three hundred times delighted, to be precise.
 
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An alliance with Castile for the Yorkists could change everything... but it would erase most of the doubts that York wants to seize the throne.

Is York planning on having Henry make his son heir by disowning Margaret's... illicit child?

France seems to be doing poorly. What's up with them?
I could have played this two ways. Here is an example of the game underneath the story. In game, England entered into a RM with Castile. I could have had it as Henry/Lancastrians making the match/alliance but decided it would be more interesting presented as a Yorkist play. If Richard is to go for broke here, it made sense that he might hedge his bets by inviting in Castile as an ally. Not just for his attempts within England but (foreshadowing) his thoughts on France as he goes forward.

As regards France, they are little different than the last time we checked in. France is basically broken and has done little in the last few years to rectify that. When the time comes, I will provide a more expansive look at the continent but we are not yet there.

An EUIV game where England gets a good marriage alliance with Castille and takes continously bites out of France is a strong early start for them.

Especially if they go on to conquer the rest of the islands (and they should, given they cannot afford for Ireland to be loose after what just happened, and Scotland without France protecting them is screwed).

It's great news for Castille as well who now have no real rivals if they manage to personal union Aragon. No France means they're top dog in Papal matters too, or take their place as rivals with the HRE (especially if they keep Naples).

Could prove very interesting.
Agreed. As above, it was a game decision to enter the RM. Of course, I will paint it with more subtlety in the narrative, but it was very much what you suggest above that caused me to make that in-game choice.

In 1460 Enrique IV was 35. He was hardly young...
Doh!! I plead a confusion on my part when planning this out in the writing. I obviously mixed up his age with the amount of time he had reigned by 1460 (not very long since 1454.) I will leave the above as is, but good catch! Always correct me if needed.

So, good old Ned is to marry Isabel (no bride for you, Fernando). Bye, united Spain... me likes it. Unless he marries Juana, the only daughter of Enrique, who is still in the making (she was born IOTL 1462). So I earthly advise to marry her to any Portuguese Prince at hand.

By all means.

Castile and Aragon, hand in hand, to gut France. Lovely. If you happen to have France destroyed and humbled by 1513, I would be jolly delighted. Three hundred times delighted, to be precise.
And indeed, I likely got mixed up because I was thinking more on the implications of Isabella matching with England at this time. I cannot say at this date how she will play into this story, but I can promise that she does play in a rather important way. Wait for it. ;)


To all - To reiterate, the above scene serves two purposes. One is obviously giving Richard a moment in the chapter given what else is going in rather quick time. The other is to include game action in what remains a rather closely tied narrative to OTL. It is the kind of thing I enjoy doing. Taking one slight game action and teasing out of it how it might effect the longer arc of the story. A RM with Castile at this time could obviously have major implications all over the map as has been suggested above. It would clearly alter the landscape of England depending on which side made the match (Lancastrian or Yorkist), but it would carry over to the continent. A RM usually leads to a military alliance (at least how I play the game) and that would be an excellent advantage if/when England returns to France in an effort to regain lost lands. And indeed, if Isabella marries into England, there is no united Spain (at least not how it was done IRL.) As TBC suggests, that changes many, many things.

I did tell you that when things began to diverge you would know it. This is one of those things. ;)

Finally, in an effort to get this chapter finished and move on to the "main event" herewith follows the conclusion of chapter 17. Look for chapter 18 coming very soon. And thank you all so much for following along and providing comments! :)
 
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Coventry, July 1460

The sun was not yet up, but King Henry sat next to the slight window in his rooms at the priory and watched it rise. He had been up all night in thought and prayer. Through sleepy eyes, he gazed at the slowly turning colors in the distance as the sun breached the horizon and washed the wet ground below in a soft light. Though a slim rain continued to fall, a glance to the dark sky suggested a parting of the clouds and Henry prayed again to make it so.

A knock to the door pulled him from his reverence and he watched his wife enter and stand silently as she looked to him with a curious face. When she did not speak, the King finally asked, “You wish your answer?”

“If you should have it,” Margaret replied as she softly shut the door behind her and leaned against it.

Henry stood and shifted to his slight desk, “I have done much study on this.”

“I hope it so...with no little amount of prayer, monsieur,” she answered.

He tapped to a pile of letters with his finger, “Much reading, to be certain. Things that I should have read months ago it seems.”

“You were indisposed, mon cher,” Margaret smiled.

“I am ever available to both God Almighty and my subjects,” he replied with a frown, “It would appear that far too many abuse their position and none other than the Holy Father believes it. This papal legate writes to me again and commands me, upon the peril of my soul, to consent to these demands. What else am I to think?”

Margaret stepped forward, “Who is this legate to command of you anything? To command a King, sir?! He is not God!”

“He stands for God’s representative on Earth, madam.”

Knowing she would lose that argument, Margaret ignored it, “Are you telling me that you will consent to York?”

“In short...” Henry turned back to the window before answering, “...no.”

The Queen was surprised, “Truly? May I ask what finally convinced you?”

“Oddly enough...” the King held to the window, “...it was my cousin of York himself.”

She showed concern, “Tell me not that he writes to you again pledging all of his fealty and allegiance!”

“He does not write...no,” Henry answered, “Nor does he arrive from Ireland, it would appear. That he does neither suggests to me that he is not behind this incursion of these Lords.”

“Do not be foolish, husband!” she stepped to him, “York is most certainly the head of this cabal. These Lords are merely his pawns. He tests us to see if the water is too hot or cold.”

Henry turned to her with a sigh, “Either way, he is not with them. The Lord of Buckingham tells to me that these Earls have made their way to Northampton and there they sit waiting for me to receive them. This I will do.”

“While I applaud forceful action, sir...I know not that you need join with them,” Margaret suggested, “The Lord of Buckingham is capable enough without your guidance. Nor do I trust our ranks at the now. We still have not heard from the Lords of Northumberland and Clifford and they would be required if you were to ride out yourself.”

“I am God’s anointed King,” Henry replied plainly, “They wish to treat with no other nor would I wish it. Per their complaint, they do not feel sufficiently heard by our ears and so I shall prove to this papal legate and thus to the Holy Father that such is nonsense.”

Margaret skewed a brow, “Yet you will prove nothing to these Earls if you do not consent to York’s demands. Here or no...they are his demands.”

“You do not trust it as much as I...” Henry smiled, “...yet through my prayer I have found succor in the word of God Almighty. In the Book of Romans it is said ‘Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists the authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment.’ I see no reason that these Earls should consider any other, nor these prelates...the Archbishop of Canterbury most especially.”

“My Lord husband...” Margaret sighed, “...these are not Godly men. I may not even speak on the Archbishop if he falls in with them so easily. You may trust none of them or what they might do to you, or us, should they gain what they truly desire.”

Henry held a slight finger to her dainty chin, “You are always so extreme.”

“And you...” she was about to push the hand away and harangue him but stopped herself and became loving, “...are too good for their love, my husband. With all of the harm that these Lords have placed to you, a hand remains outreached to them. They do not appreciate how truly noble you are. They cannot know for they refuse to see what I see.”

“And what do you see?” Henry was skeptical.

Margaret pulled him closer, “I see a strength to you that I have not witnessed for some time. It is desired and pleasing to me.”

“I am pleased that you think so,” Henry clumsily extricated himself from her embrace, “Yet I will not be fooled. Not by them...not by anyone.”

She stood alone for a time before suggesting, “Henry...you could die if you treat with them. They wish only for your blood.”

Henry allowed a slight laugh, “They already have it...most of them. What more can they ask for?”

“This is serious,” Margaret held firm and repeated, “Tu peux mourir.”

“Ma cher...” Henry turned back to her, “...I will do as God demands. I will kiss the Prince and go with these men. However many still trust and believe in their King. I will answer to these Lords. And should they not like it, I will...I would...I shall be like my father and trust the Almighty in battle.”

Margaret crossed her arms and looked to him as she thought. After a time, she questioned, “Shall I go with you?”

“Absolutely not,” Henry was certain, “Neither you nor the Prince should be anywhere to that place. Go to Eccleshall Castle and await my word. Trust none that do not come from me. I shall provide for you a secret token within.”

“Do you know, Henry...” Margaret showed a rare love and care as she moved to him, “...you have not been a bad husband. I know that I question you all of the time...yet in your heart...your soul...there is some thing to cherish.”

Henry brushed her away, “Now I am pleased. However, you must go. I am to meet with Buckingham, Lord Egremont and Lord Ruthin.”

“Of course,” the Queen kissed him for some time to his cheek and then left the room.

As Margaret closed the door to the chamber, she was met by Lord Wiltshire, “What does he do, Your Grace?”

“The King intends to fight,” Margaret grinned over his shoulder as she thought.

Wiltshire was shocked, “Can it be?!”

“Do not be so worrisome,” she admonished, “You shall not go with them. I believe the King guided enough by Shrewsbury and Beaumont. You will follow the Prince to Eccleshall. And call for Sir William Herbert.”

“Him?!” Wiltshire was disgusted.

Margaret pinched his cheek, “I’ll not see him make any mischief this go round. Order him to garrison that castle. I shall speak with him then.”

As he left, Bishop Booth took his place, “Perhaps a victory, Your Grace.”

“Never,” Margaret made for her rooms, “If my reports are correct, Warwick holds twice as many as we find at the now. Nor do we know still if York plans to add his might. I cannot afford them all. I am afraid that my husband the King is about to walk into a very deadly trap.”

Booth was concerned, “Did you dissuade him?”

Margaret found her door and held to the handle as she answered, “Not...as such.”

“You do not think that he will win a battle...” Booth was curious as they entered her chamber, “...yet you are not afraid of his defeat?”

Margaret went straightaways to her settle and sat to a knee as she too looked out a window to the morning drizzle, “What is it that we lack...all of us...my Lord Bishop?”

“A strong King,” Booth was immediate in his answer.

The Queen found comfort as she kept her gaze to the sky, “And if he should perish...my son would become King.”

“He is the heir,” Booth grew uncomfortable.

Margaret mused, “With Henry...he still makes his own choices. With mon petit chérubin...he would listen to his mother.”

“You are not wishing for defeat?” Booth questioned.

“Of course not!” Margaret spun on him, “Don’t be ridiculous! L'horreur! Yet we have seen defeat before and found victory in the end. My Lord Bishop...that I made you lest you forget...I look to eventualities. I must. Though it be no game that we play, it is a long one. I have learned that by now. I must take every advantage. And this...may be that.”

Bishop Booth bowed his head, “Though it be summer, my Lady Queen...you could be looking at a very long winter.”

“Or it could be a beautiful spring,” Margaret smiled to him, “Which is why I should need the best about me. The moment that you gain word from the Lord of Somerset, he is to come to me. With all haste.”

“I will do, Your Grace,” he answered with another bow.

As he left, Margaret called after, “And tell Northumberland that he may be too late. Better him to Eccleshall Castle as well. Let him know.”


End of Chapter 17

* * *

Coming Soon! ... Chapter 18: Northampton
 
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Well duh, obviously the Queen wants to be regent in full. Not sure why this is a surprise to her supporters.

I do hope the king is captured, and York takes rhe crown and kills the bustard. And the kid as well.
 
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Margaret betrays Henry, and that was always inevitable - she is far too ambitious.

It's a shame that Henry has forgotten that Margaret's son is not his son and has no right to the throne...

Will this cause people to abandon the Lancastrians? After all... things would be very bad for them if word of this gets out.

Margaret isn't exactly a godly woman either. That must be why she doesn't have any Church support.
 
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“So it shouldn’t bother you that this new Queen Joan of Portugal...that she too is not far removed from our Plantagenet tree?”
Someone should be bothered by it. If you share grand parents and great grandparents to the point you are cousins from two directions then it's too close.
If you happen to have France destroyed and humbled by 1513, I would be jolly delighted. Three hundred times delighted, to be precise.
Wise advice from Kurtie as always.
Alfonso de Palencia answered plainly, “He would need to see the King...my Lord.”
Alfonso is not quite as stupid as he first appeared. York will need to do something before he makes such requests, though perhaps it may act as a spur for him to indeed start doing something.

And so to the Queen and her absolutely shocking to nobody betrayal of the King. I say betrayal, she betrayed him years ago with her affairs and lying about his child, this is now moving onto actually trying to get him killed. What she has seemingly not considered is what if he is captured? Why would anyone stay with her cause after that.
 
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Well duh, obviously the Queen wants to be regent in full. Not sure why this is a surprise to her supporters.

I do hope the king is captured, and York takes rhe crown and kills the bustard. And the kid as well.
They would have to be astute enough to recognize it rather than being sycophants out only for themselves.

Margaret betrays Henry, and that was always inevitable - she is far too ambitious.

It's a shame that Henry has forgotten that Margaret's son is not his son and has no right to the throne...
I don't consider that Henry knows that the Prince is not his. He merely has held suspicion from time to time and we see how often he forgets or misremembers.

Will this cause people to abandon the Lancastrians? After all... things would be very bad for them if word of this gets out.

Margaret isn't exactly a godly woman either. That must be why she doesn't have any Church support.
It's more internal rather than external so few would find out about it. Notice that she even tells Booth that she is not wishing for a defeat. She is only considering possibilities and these things change rapidly as we move forward.

Someone should be bothered by it. If you share grand parents and great grandparents to the point you are cousins from two directions then it's too close.
I admit that even in this time when royal families intermingled so much, the case in Castile and Portugal is indeed a bridge of consanguinity too far. Yet the Pope did sign off on it.

Wise advice from Kurtie as always.
Patience, francophobe, patience. ;)

Alfonso is not quite as stupid as he first appeared. York will need to do something before he makes such requests, though perhaps it may act as a spur for him to indeed start doing something.
The scene is sort of a mirror to another coming soonish. The point being there is a difference between hope and fact. If one wishes to treat with a King, they need to BE the King and not someone wishing for it. Much like what will come, this King of Castile (through his ambassador) is only interested in dealing with the real power in England and not someone pretending to be such. Indeed, York will have to get off his ass to seal this deal.

And so to the Queen and her absolutely shocking to nobody betrayal of the King. I say betrayal, she betrayed him years ago with her affairs and lying about his child, this is now moving onto actually trying to get him killed. What she has seemingly not considered is what if he is captured? Why would anyone stay with her cause after that.
I have to admit that her turn at the end even took me by surprise. The scene was actually a rather difficult one to write. It was not making much sense to me that Henry all of the sudden decided to take up the fight (though here he is not really looking to fight but talk once again.) In fact, this whole time of beefing up power in Kenilworth up to now has seemed out of character for such a meek King. I can only explain it as his advisors pulled him to this place and he is sort of acting out of reaction than proaction. Margaret would naturally want to fight and destroy Warwick et al, but as the scene continued it began to make sense that she might instead realize the folly in that and move to at least protect herself. To me, that is her first order motivation.

I'm not sure I did it entirely well, but those little moments where she is suddenly sweet to Henry, looking over Wiltshire's shoulder or holding to the door before opening it are moments where the gears are moving swiftly in her head. Say what you will about her (and there is much to be said) but I do not consider Margaret stupid. Foolish, mayhap, but not unintelligent.


To all - As mentioned before, the action coming up is one of the benchmarks in the story. The lead up was intricate which required covering each step but now it is upon us and the next chapter covers a very short period of time. I felt I had to focus on many smaller parts. Thus, the scenes are shorter and the actions overlap each other. For that reason, I am going to do something a little different and beg your forgiveness beforehand. I plan on posting a scene a day for ten days as the chapter plays out and then I will return to the normal pace of once every few days. I understand if you cannot keep up, but it should all be read closely together. Thank you in advance. :)

And here we go...
 
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Chapter 18: Northampton

* * *


6qfOeyI.jpg


Northampton, July 1460

“To the front! To the front!!” the Duke of Buckingham called out to the soldiers meant to make base camp.

The Baron of Shrewsbury rode next to him, “It is a slog, my Lord. The River Nene is flooded and this field looks not much better.”

“Here we encamp,” Buckingham was impatient, “His Grace will take lodgings to Delapre Abbey and if needs must, we shall find provision to the village in Hardingstone. Yet what I do not see, however, is the army of Warwick.”

Shrewsbury tried to peer through the rain, “Mayhap he sits tight within Northampton itself.”

“Not if he truly owns the numbers that have been reported to me,” Buckingham allowed his mount a few more steps before he came to a halt and dismounted with a grunt. His boots practically sunk in the mud and he pulled them out with hardship and a curse.

Shrewsbury attempted to assist, “A mire as well, my Lord.”

“Not an auspicious beginning,” Buckingham moved to more solid land and watched his soldiers erect tents and the rest of his army file in. A train of archers marched past and the Duke order them to the ridge. Then he spied his cannon and they were as stuck in the mud as he had been just a moment before, “My Lord...see to that! Have them in place within the hour.”

The Duke was disgusted but pressed his way to a tent finally set for him and unrolled several maps. He studied the distance from Dunstable and grumbled. That was met by Lords Beaumont and Egremont. The Viscount gave nod, “My Lord...the rear is nearly pulled close and I’ve arrayed them as ordered.”

“Yet still no word from my brother,” Egremont followed.

Buckingham did not look up to them, “I would not expect it. Though he may not be needed. I fear Warwick has attempted to run round us.”

“I have sent out the sentries, sir,” Lord Beaumont suggested, “If Warwick be near, we shall know it soon enough.”

Egremont gave nod, “Nor would I expect him to shy from a fight. It is what he wants.”

Soldiers brushed past them and set up a table allowing the Duke to drop his maps. He kept his eyes to them still and finally called out, “We shall be ready at any rate. My Lord Beaumont, I wish you to the right. Though the marsh be flooded, I would not be shocked to see the Earl attempt a break through there. I will send Lord Grey of Ruthin to assist you. And you, Lord Egremont...gather Shrewsbury when he has finished his tasks and join with me to the left. Whichever way the Lord of Warwick comes, we will be waiting.”

Lord Egremont gave nod but questioned still, “What of the King, my Lord? Should he not be visible as he was at Ludford Bridge? The power of it was undeniable and I fear we may need such. Our numbers are too low.”

“I will bring him forward before we set to fighting...if we do,” Buckingham finally looked up, “And though I have always been a man of peace, we have not the time for this. I am told Lord Scales to the Tower is in dire trouble from the army these Earls have left to London. We must hope that they left the bulk of it there.”

Beaumont showed a nervous face, “I understand anywhere between ten thousand to sixty, my Lord. There be no way to tell.”

“The easiest way to tell is to look across the field of battle, my Lord Viscount,” Buckingham answered plainly, “And when we do see them, we shall not get caught unawares. Now get to it!”
 
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Well, all the competent Lords under Lancaster are currently in one place. Kill or capture them and its over so far as actually competing with York.
 
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Well, all the competent Lords under Lancaster are currently in one place. Kill or capture them and its over so far as actually competing with York.
Competent? Lesse...

Buckingham - suggested competence
Beaumont - really?
Shrewsbury - His father was Lord Talbot so...hmm?
Egremont - Hot headed but competent?
Northumberland - not there
Clifford - not there
Somerset - not there
Wiltshire - not there but definitely not competent!
Grey of Ruthin - we cannot say
Exeter - in question both as Lancastrian and competency
Tudor/Pembroke - not there
Devon - not there
 
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