Richard grinned. “In some perverse way, I hope they do catch us just to see the look of surprise when they realize who is on board. But, it seems our ships are lighter and faster. See the gap widens between us, praise God.”

“The optimist for once,” Edward said, putting his arm about his brother’s shoulder. “Sweet Jesu, but this has been a trial. Let us hope Duke Charles can give us all shelter in Bruges.”

The trial was not over, however, because upon reaching the flat sandy shore of Holland, the English ships’ entry into Alkmaar harbor was prevented by the low tide. Thwarted, it looked as though the pursuing Hansards would indeed capture them. But at last God smiled on the English king and gave them a rescuer. Louis de Gruthuyse, Duke Charles’s governor in Holland, happened to be visiting Alkmaar and upon hearing the English king was trapped off his shore, sent small boats to deliver him safely to dry land. It helped that the seigneur was the same man who had generously housed the young York princes, George and Richard, in Bruges ten years before. Richard was delighted to greet the elder statesman again, albeit with a measure of embarrassment that once more members of the York family needed a refuge, and further, they were penniless. Edward had only his fur-lined cloak with which to pay the ship’s captain. The wealthy Gruthuyse, however, gladly provided for his royal guests and offered to escort them to The Hague.

“Your sister, our beloved duchess Margaret, will repay me, I have no doubt,” he told the king, chuckling. “She and I have books in common, and I am sure there are one or two she would relinquish in exchange for my hospitality to you.”

Thus, forced to accept Gruthuyse’s kind offer, Edward, Richard and others of the king’s closest adherents, spent the winter in The Hague in relative luxury, all the while plotting their return. The bad news from England those first weeks under the new Warwick-Henry regime told of riots in the cities and a much-angered merchant body in London. King Henry reigned, but Warwick ruled.

The exiles then learned of their attainders. Warwick now deemed that Edward was King Henry’s “greatest rebel and enemy, usurper, oppressor and destroyer of our said sovereign lord.”

“Such a hypocrite,” Edward had scoffed when he heard, and Richard had to agree; how had it all come to this?

Then, in November, came good news. After three daughters, Elizabeth Woodville had borne Edward’s son and heir in Westminster sanctuary. “At last,” Edward rejoiced and promptly spent the evening carousing with Hastings in the taverns of The Hague. This time, Richard happily joined in the celebrations.