Richard let out a low whistle and handed the missive to John Kendall. “Write to my cousin Buckingham and ask him to meet me with his men at Northampton in ten days’ time. Tell him no more than three hundred men will be necessary, and I will bring the same. Oh, and thank him graciously for his advice.”

Enemies? He had always hated the word. Of course Richard had had to deal with enemies since he was a boy. He had grown up learning that King Henry was an enemy, but Richard could never bring himself to call the saintly, gentle man a foe. Whenever Richard went into battle, and even though he had been on the other side of the field from Warwick and George, he had never believed they were fighting to kill him personally but rather fighting for a cause, as was he. But now Cousin Harry was intimating that Richard himself could be at risk from the Woodville faction. He had felt trepidation then, and an even greater foreboding overtook him when yet another missive from Hastings warned him to come quickly. The queen and her adherents were ignoring Richard’s role as protector and arranging the coronation for the young king on the fourth of May with or without Richard’s presence.

He needed to move quickly now and cursed his previous tarrying.

Buckingham had grown stouter since Richard had seen him last at George’s trial. But Richard greeted his cousin gratefully when he arrived at the largest inn at Northampton on the twenty-ninth of April with his three hundred men.

“Where are Rivers and the king?” Richard asked his cousin, surprised not to see them. “I requested they should meet me here.”

Buckingham escorted Richard into the landlord’s private chamber on the first floor and shut the door. The inn must be popular, Richard thought idly, looking about him and noting the velvet bed hangings, Turkey carpet, and a large silver pitcher in lieu of the more commonplace pewter. Buckingham handed Richard a cup of ale and sat himself down on a cushioned stool, leaving the best chair for Richard.

Richard eschewed the seat and the ale and began his customary pacing, which Buckingham found unnerving. “Mayhap he did not get your summons, Richard. Or the king took ill on the way from Ludlow. They will be here, mark my words. If he received it, Rivers would not dare defy your command.”

“I know he left Ludlow six days ago. Ample time to get here, but,” and Richard’s tone was harsh, “when one is dragging two thousand men and cartloads of weapons, it will slow one down.”