Again Richard was impressed by the trust the king had in his lord chamberlain, because Edward finally nodded and said, “Aye. I see that now,” and rose with more purpose. “Let us make plans to find Devon and Pembroke.”

At the end of July, Edward finally received word of the two earls’ progress, and heeding Hastings’ advice, he marshaled his meager troops and began the march south to join them on July twenty-ninth, a much happier Richard by his side.

The mood would not last long.

Once again Edward’s intelligence was tardy, for on July twenty-sixth Devon and Pembroke, commanding two separate forces, did not make their rendezvous somewhere in Northamptonshire before being outmaneuvered by the rebel force and vanquished in the battle of Edgecote Field. Both earls were sent before Warwick and executed.

Not far from Northampton, a messenger from the royal force reached Edward with the bad news. Upon hearing that the rebels were at hand and had already defeated their comrades, Edward’s small army dissolved like a summer’s mist, leaving the king and his small entourage marooned in the middle of nowhere.

Richard could not believe his ears.

“You are my prisoner,” the earl of Warwick told the angry Edward at Olney, where the earl had cornered the helpless king and his few men, who were seeking to ride back to Nottingham.

Like a wounded dog, Edward turned his horse around to face the earl and snarled, “Nay, my lord, you are mistaken. As soon as I return to Westminster, ’tis you who will be tried for treason.” He attempted to unsheathe his sword, but Warwick’s henchmen had hedged him in and one wrenched the weapon from his grasp.

“I think not, Your Grace,” Warwick almost purred at Edward. “As you can see, you are greatly outnumbered. I am here speaking for your subjects who seek naught but a way to lay their grievances and the need for reform before you.”

Richard observed several heads nod in agreement and sheathed his own sword. He suddenly saw Francis Lovell among the earl’s knights and lifted his hand briefly in salute. Poor Francis had no choice but to be at the earl’s side, Richard knew, for he was Warwick’s ward. The youth’s shoulders shrugged a reluctant response. It was then Richard determined he would make his protégé one of his household when the present debacle was resolved. It was clear Francis wanted none of this treason.