The duke bows his head to the silent great hall. ‘We will pray for the soul of John Talbot and his noble son, Lord Lisle,’ he says. ‘He was a most gentle and perfect knight. And we will pray for the king, for England, and St George.’

Nobody cheers. Nobody repeats the prayer. Men say ‘Amen, Amen’ quietly and pull out their benches and sit down and eat their dinner in silence.

* * *

The king goes to bed very early, the gentlemen of his chamber tell me, when I go to enquire. They say he seemed very tiree did not speak to them. He did not say one word. I tell the queen and she bites her lip and looks at me, white-faced. ‘What d’you think?’ she asks. She seems as frightened as a little maid.

I shake my head. I don’t know what to think.

‘What should I do?’

I don’t know what she should do.

* * *

In the morning, the queen is heavy-eyed from a sleepless night. Again she sends me to the king’s rooms to ask how is His Grace, this morning. Again the groom of the bedchamber tells me that the king is weary, this morning he is sleeping late. When they told him that it was time for Lauds he just nodded and went back to sleep. They are surprised because he never misses chapel. They tried to wake him again for Prime but he did not stir. I go back and tell the queen that he has slept through the morning and is still asleep.

She nods and says she will take breakfast in her rooms. In the great hall the Duke of Somerset breaks his fast with the court. Nobody speaks very much, we are all waiting for more news from France. We are all dreading more news from France.

The king sleeps on till midday.

‘Is he ill?’ I ask the groom of the wardrobe. ‘He never sleeps like this usually, does he?’

‘He was shocked,’ the groom says. ‘I know that. He came into his rooms as white as a dove and lay down on the bed without a word to anyone.’

‘He said nothing?’ I am ashamed of myself for this question.

‘Nothing. He said not one word.’

‘Send for me as soon as he wakes,’ I say. ‘The queen is concerned about him.’

The man nods and I go back to the queen’s rooms, and tell her that the king lay down to sleep and said nothing to anyone.

‘He said nothing?’ she repeats, as I did.

‘Nothing.’

‘He must have seen,’ she says.

‘He saw,’ I say grimly.

‘Jacquetta, what do you think he will do?’

I shake my head. I don’t know.

All day he sleeps. Every hour I go to the door of the king’s rooms and ask if he has woken. Every hour the groom of the chamber comes out, his face more and more worried, and shakes his head: ‘Still sleeping.’ Then, when the sun is setting and they are lighting the candles for dinner, the queen sends for Edmund Beaufort.