Rob aimed a stone at a cairn they had set up on another rock. “As the king’s next brother, he is the heir to the throne, is he not? From all we hear in the north, he draws people like moths to a candle, and our sovereign lord allows him to live like a young king. What could possibly make him jealous of you?”

Richard smiled when he thought about his infuriating brother. “’Tis true, George can charm a bird from her eggs, has my mother’s good looks, runs faster, throws better, and has mastered Latin more easily than I, but…” he paused and gave Rob a serious stare, “…can I trust you?” The other boy nodded and put his hand on his heart. “Ned favors me,” Richard confided, “and I know not why. In the three years since he became king, Ned has honored me greatly, ’tis true, but, blinded by his own ambition, George cannot see that he has received far more.” With exceptional maturity, Richard added: “It seems he is someone who will never be satisfied with his life, and I am sorry for him.”

Rob reminded himself of some of Richard’s enviable honors: not only knight of the Garter and the Bath; admiral of England, Ireland and Aquitaine; the county, honor and lordship of Pembroke; and several manors forfeited by the attainted earl of Oxford; but also the appointment as sole commissioner for several counties in the west, which had made Richard responsible for levying troops for Edward the year before. It was an impressive list.

“If I had not been so astonished by my good fortune that day Ned gave me both Richmond and Pembroke, I might have recognized George’s look of…look of, um…disappointment,” Richard finished. He could not bring himself to say “hatred,” but that was what he had seen in George’s face when Edward had bestowed the two counties on the younger brother. George had erupted. Richard had fled and had not been privy to the conversation that followed between his two brothers. A few days later, however, Richmond was whisked from Richard and given to George. Richard had been relieved, and accord had been restored—at least for a while—but resentments lingered.

Rob conjured a different picture of a scowling duke of Clarence and admired Richard’s generosity. “George will be very surprised when you see him again after three years with Master Lacey, I’ll be bound,” Rob declared, brushing off the crumbs from his tunic and gingerly rising from the precarious perch. “And speaking of whom, we had better not keep old Blackbeard waiting, had we?” His feet finding the bank first, he reached out and grasped Richard’s arm to steady his leap back beside him.

“My thanks, Rob,” Richard said, and while Rob was not sure whether it was for the helping hand or words of encouragement, Richard was learning Rob Percy was someone to be trusted.