“I feel sorry for him,” Richard replied, remembering the gentle man in the Westminster chapel. “But he was not a good king—although my lady mother thinks he is a good man.” Young Dickon had had trouble understanding this paradox, but now he knew that it was good governance and strength of character that made a king worthy to wear a crown, and he was very sure his brother Edward was suited to it.

A curlew’s cry reached them as they plunged into the woods, and Richard had long decided it was the sound that would always remind him of his time at Middleham. He was only expecting to be a temporary resident while he learned the chivalric arts, but fate had other ideas for the young Richard as events in his life would bring him back time and time again.

The boys left their mounts with the groom and softly wended their way through the trees towards the familiar stream they could now hear spilling over rocks and fallen branches. Alarmed, its raised tail showing the white-heart mark underside, a doe bounded out of her bushy hiding place. Richard and Rob stood like stone statues and waited to see if she would be followed by her offspring. When none appeared, Richard crept forward again, almost tripping over a terrified, abandoned fawn, its dappled auburn coat looking like sunlight on dead leaves. Before he could alert Rob to witness it, the creature found its trembling legs, wobbled to its feet and tripped away.

“Such large, beautiful eyes!” Richard enthused. “In another moment, I could have touched her. Why would a mother leave her child in danger, I wonder? I notice there is no father to protect it either.”

“I warrant the dam felt the fawn’s coat would protect it more than she could, and so she drew our attention to her and away from it,” Rob remarked.

“Perhaps,” Richard mused. On this day, he was too rapt by the encounter to note the obvious irony. Later perhaps, the parallel to his own life would dawn.

Reaching the brook, they used stepping stones to reach their favorite mossy rock midstream and clambered upon it. Rob pulled out a hunk of bread and some good local cheese, the mixture of cow’s and ewe’s milk contributing to its characteristic blueness. Here was another reason Richard liked being in this place: He thought it produced the most delicious cheese he had ever tasted, and now he tucked in and observed Rob.