Henry does not even see him. He does not see anybody as he turns and goes into the east door that leads up the great stairs to his presence chamber. I follow, and there is his mother, waiting in his rooms, watching from the window. “I saw the messenger coming from far away,” she says to him quietly, like a woman waiting for the worst news in the world. “I have been praying since the moment I saw the dust on the road. I knew it was the boy. Where has he landed?”

“Cornwall,” he answers. “And I have no friends in Cornwall now.”

It is pointless to tell him that he has no friends in Cornwall now since he broke their pride, and broke their hearts, and hanged the men that they loved and followed. I wait in silence as Henry rips open the wrapping of the letter and takes out the paper. I see the seal of the Earl of Devon, William Courtenay, my sister Catherine’s husband, and the father of her adored son.

“The boy has landed,” Henry says, reading rapidly. “The Sheriff of Devon attacked his camp with a strong force.” He pauses; I see him take a breath. “The sheriff’s men all deserted and went over to the boy as soon as they saw him.”

Lady Margaret presses her hands together as if she is praying but says nothing.

“The Earl of Devon, my brother-in-law.” Henry looks at me as if I am responsible for William Courtenay. “The Earl of Devon, William Courtenay, was going to attack himself but thought they were too strong and he could not trust his men. He’s fallen back to Exeter.” He lifts his head. “The boy has just landed and already he has all of Cornwall and much of Devon; and your brother-in-law has fallen back to Exeter because he cannot trust his men to stay true to him.”

“How many?” I ask. “How many men does the boy have?”

“About eight thousand.” Henry gives a mirthless bark of a laugh. “More than I had, when I landed. It’s enough. It’s enough to take the throne.”

“You were the rightful heir!” his mother says passionately.

“The Earl of Devon, William Courtenay, is trapped in Exeter,” Henry says. “The boy has set a siege.” He turns to his writing table and shouts for clerks. His mother and I step back as the men run into the room and Henry gives orders. Lord Daubney is to march towards the boy’s forces, and relieve William Courtenay in Exeter. Another army commanded by Lord Willoughby de Broke is to hold the south coast so that the boy cannot get away. Every lord in the country is commanded to raise men and horse and meet Henry to march on the West Country. They must all come, there can be no excuses.

“I want him brought to me alive,” Henry says to each of his clerks. “Write that to each commander. He must be taken alive. And tell them to fetch his wife and son too.”