BooksBarbecue
Back Cecily Save as PDF
Chapters (58)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Dedication
  4. Author’s Note
  5. Prologue
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. Epilogue
  56. Afterword
  57. Acknowledgements
  58. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

As she strides beside him to their leave-taking, he says he will leave half his force in her command, to defend Ludlow, should it come to that.

She tells him he is a fool and should take them all.

‘I go to swear allegiance to my king,’ he says. ‘Not to fight him.’

She stops.

He walks on a step or two then turns, squares his shoulders, ready.

‘I dare say Gloucester said the same. Remember him? He was the King’s heir, just as you are, but he feeds worms now.’

‘I remember. But I am not an old man.’ He pats his chest, pulls a smile from somewhere. ‘And my heart is strong.’

She strikes his shoulder, almost hard. ‘Men can still put a blade through it.’

They have neither of them forgotten Gloucester. His ghost has ridden beside them all the way from the Clwyd. King’s heir and uncle, loyal and loving all his life. Yet, at need, de la Pole taught Henry to fear and hate him. It’s easy to make Henry do things when you stand by his side. Edmund Beaufort stands there now. And, while Gloucester was childless and old, Richard is a man in his prime and has all the sons the King lacks. Cecily knows that, if Beaufort is looking for reasons for Henry to fear her husband, Jack Cade and his rebels have given him one. But her womb has given him three more.

‘Just promise me you won’t go into the King’s presence without a sword at your hip and a guard at your back.’

Penguin walking logo

25

September–October 1450

In the end he rides with eight hundred. They look like nothing more than the lordly escort any great man might take when he rides into the world on a fine September morning. But under every fine cloak lies a close coat of mail, every man has a blade at his side, and the long-legged coursers they ride are as fit for battle as swift travel. It’s enough, he says, to make a showing. To defend himself, at need.

Pray God a show is all that’s needed.

She watches from the walls as he rides out down Broad Street towards Ludford Bridge and the roads that lead east and south to London. Outpacing him speeds a lone messenger, his horse throwing up dust and carrying to the King the letter they’ve composed together. I am your true liege man and servant, it says. If any say otherwise, they lie. Call them, and I, to your presence, let them charge me and I will answer.