A most magnificent hearse awaited the duke of York’s coffin inside All Saints at Fotheringhay, whose candelabra atop intricately carved and gilded wooden towers almost reached the church beams. Twelve servants who had served Richard of York placed his coffin and effigy on the black velvet cloth in the center of the extravagant monument. Painted on the underside of the hearse’s ceiling was the figure of Christ seated on a rainbow; the eyes of Richard of York’s effigy could therefore stare heavenward and see his savior. Edward, dressed in a blue velvet mourning gown as befitted the king, was waiting with George to receive the coffins along with chanting monks and nine bishops. Edmund of Rutland’s hearse was also elaborate and was in place in the Lady Chapel, where the young earl’s remains would be buried.

Edward sat apart from the other mourners, the most important of whom had the honor to flank York’s hearse for the duration of the mass, including the dukes of Clarence, Gloucester and Suffolk, Lord Hastings, and four earls. Soon the church was full to stifling from the hundreds of candles and scores of sweating worshippers on that hot July day. Outside in the village and crowding into the castle bailey were two thousand participants in the reburial ceremonies. Edward was to feed them all and many received alms monies in remembrance of his father.

Sixty-year-old Duchess Cecily, regal in mourning gray, was given a seat in an alcove to the side of her husband’s hearse, and Gresilde Boyvile, perspiring profusely herself, was fanning her mistress with a rush fan. No one could blame the bishop of Lincoln for hurrying the placebo and dirige that sweltering afternoon, knowing the next day held the prospect of three more masses for the souls of Richard’s father and brother.

Richard wept as he thought back to the last time he had seen his father, the day the duke had ridden out of Baynard’s and towards his death. “Tell me, before I go, if you remember what is most important in this life, after loving a merciful God?” he had asked Richard and George. “Our loyalty to England, the king and to our house of York,” Richard recalled was their answer. “And what is most dishonorable?” York had persisted.

Richard swallowed hard, glancing across at George on the other side of the hearse. Had George forgotten or merely ignored the answer: “Betrayal of family and friends.”