The thirtieth of April was the last night of freedom for Anthony Woodville, Earl Rivers. The more he tried to weakly plead his case with the two angry dukes, the more they became convinced that he was conspiring against Richard. Leaving Rivers under guard at Northampton, Richard, Harry, and a few others rode south to Stony Stratford to head off the king.

Just as the sun rose over the horizon, the six horsemen galloped along Watling Street past the camp followers at the back of the army that was already on the march, scattering the rank and file of soldiers in their path. The cloaked and hooded riders clattered into the market square surprising the group of nobles beginning to mount their horses. One slight rider was already astride a huge gray courser, his good looks, golden-red hair, and noble carriage instantly recognizable as the dead king’s son. Richard was the first to slide out of his saddle, discard his hood, and go down on one knee in front of young Edward. Buckingham followed a few seconds later.

“My liege,” Richard said loudly enough for all to hear. “I am your uncle of Gloucester and lord protector come to escort you to London and to pledge my allegiance to your noble Majesty.”

A gasp rose from Edward’s retinue as they realized who had interrupted their departure. “Gloucester!” Sir Richard Grey hissed to the young king’s elderly chamberlain, Sir Thomas Vaughan, who was bemused by the arrival. He had expected to see Lord Rivers. And indeed so had the new king.

“Where is my Uncle Rivers?” Edward asked, trying to sound imperious. “It is he who was to escort me to London, my lord, on the queen, my mother’s orders.” He hesitated, not knowing what to do without his guardian instructing him on protocol. He decided to bow, knowing his Uncle Richard was important.

The queen’s younger son by her first marriage, Richard Grey, stepped up quickly to take Edward’s bridle and stand between Richard and the king. Good-looking and over-confident, he dared Richard to displace him. “In my uncle’s absence, I am in charge of his grace, my lord,” Grey proclaimed, searching the faces of Richard’s group for Rivers. “I, too, would enquire why Lord Rivers is not with you.”

By this time, word had been passed back through the ranks that Richard of Gloucester had arrived, and soon the marketplace was thick with spectators.