“My thanks to you, Edmund, but I do not need reminding of my duty to my wife.” York now turned to Cecily. “On the advice of your brother and some of my other counselors, my lady, I shall ask that you remain in the safety of the castle and put yourself at the mercy of the king.”

Edmund’s face turned white with anger. “Upon the mercy of the queen, you mean, Father!” he shouted, as all eyes turned back to him. “That woman hates us; I would not put it past her to murder mother and Meggie, George and Dickon in cold blood! I shall not go with you. I shall stay and defend them with my life.”

At that, Edward jumped to his feet. “And I shall stay with Edmund, my lord.”

Dickon ran to Cecily. “I, too, shall defend you from the queen…” he declared, faltering as the words “murder in cold blood” suddenly conjured visions of a woman in a crown, blood dripping from her hands, thrusting a dagger into his heart. He flung himself into his mother’s arms.

“Take him back to bed,” Cecily instructed her physician. The child should not be listening to this disturbing talk, and besides she needed to voice her defense of Richard’s plan. Constance wrested Dickon gently from his mother and escorted him back upstairs. Dickon did not complain and allowed his dear Constance to tuck him into bed, where George stirred briefly but turned over and slept again. Dickon wished with all his might that he could too, but his sleep was fitful.

It was still dark and two hours before dawn, giving the Yorkist troops plenty of time to gather their belongings and steal away into the night. Below in the hall, the company made reverences to Cecily as they quietly exited, until none but her family was left.

Constance reappeared on the scene just in time to see Cecily take both her soldier sons in her outstretched arms and give them a mother’s blessing. As her boys closed the heavy door behind them, Cecily felt her confidante’s strong, capable arms encircle her and she let herself cry on Constance’s shoulder.

“What should I do without you,” Cecily wept.

Constance patted the trembling hands. “You shall never know, Your Grace, for I shall always be here with you.”

Upstairs, Dickon pulled the covers over his head to block the muffled sound of horses on the cobbled courtyard, their hooves bound with rags, as they carried away his father, two brothers and their army in flight.

Chapter 4

Chapter Four

1459–1460