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Back Winter Pilgrims
Chapters (55)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Book
  3. About the Author
  4. Kingmaker: Winter Pilgrims
  5. Dedication
  6. Though the Lancastrian Claim comes from Edward III’s THIRD son, it relies on a) possession and b) that the crown can not pass through a woman – Philippa Mormer – so must fall to the next male in line. The Yorkist Claim relies on their descent from Edward III’s SECOND son, and says it can pass through Philippa. The Tudor Claim ignores the fact of passing through a woman – Lady Margaret Beaufort – or that John, Earl of Somerset, was born illegimate.
  7. Factions in the Wars of the Roses
  8. Prologue
  9. PART ONE
  10. 1
  11. 2
  12. 3
  13. 4
  14. PART TWO
  15. 5
  16. 6
  17. 7
  18. 8
  19. 9
  20. 10
  21. 11
  22. 12
  23. 13
  24. PART THREE
  25. 14
  26. 15
  27. 16
  28. 17
  29. 18
  30. 19
  31. PART FOUR
  32. 20
  33. 21
  34. 22
  35. 23
  36. PART FIVE
  37. 24
  38. 25
  39. 26
  40. 27
  41. 28
  42. 29
  43. 30
  44. 31
  45. PART SIX
  46. 32
  47. 33
  48. PART SEVEN
  49. 34
  50. 35
  51. 36
  52. 37
  53. 38
  54. 39
  55. Acknowledgements

Next to him Saxby smirks, self-satisfied.

‘He was slowing us down, mate,’ Cobham calls out. ‘And didn’t look able to fight none.’

Thomas wants to lash out, to hurt Saxby.

Saxby sees his expression change. A blade appears in Saxby’s hand and he is quick with it. He flicks it at Thomas’s face and makes a grab for the pollaxe. Thomas throws his head back, feels the knife pass.

Saxby is laughing, coming at him again. But Thomas thrusts the spike of the axe at him. He means to fend Saxby off but Saxby is too fast, and is not expecting it. There is a gristly crunch. Thomas feels resistance give and something soft slip. Saxby gasps; his eyes turn round as pennies. Thomas cannot help himself. He pushes. Saxby’s face changes colour and his tongue sticks out. He gasps for breath.

Thomas steps back. There is a neat sleeve of dark blood on the axe’s poll. Saxby falls to his knees, his eyes rolling back into his head.

It is so quick.

‘Oh Christ!’ Thomas cries. ‘Oh Christ! Forgive me!’ He drops the murder weapon and grabs Saxby’s arms, as if holding him up might save his life. ‘I didn’t mean it. You saw! By all the saints I swear to you!’

But Saxby is already gone. His dead weight passes through Thomas’s grasp to slump on the deck.

‘Dear God!’

Thomas steps away from the body, looking around for help, for credence. Katherine is staring at him, her mouth open, her face pale. It has been so quick. So sudden. So easy. There are dark ropes of blood across the deck and on Thomas’s boots, and a pool of it is forming under Saxby’s body.

‘Christ’s sake!’ Cobham roars from his deck. ‘What’re you doing? You lot! You lot! Kill him. Kill ’em all, by Christ! Kill ’em and then bloody put ’em overboard!’

Thomas’s vision seems to waver. Sound is muffled. Time slows. All he can do is look at those hands of his, those murdering hands.

Dear God! He has killed a man.

Then Katherine slaps his shoulder.

‘Thomas!’ she shouts. ‘Thomas!’

Sound and light come back to him with a roar. Men are running at him. Running at Katherine. He stoops for the pollaxe and pulls her behind him. The first sailor is on them with a rusted blade. Thomas catches it with the axe. He staggers back under its weight. The sailor is red-faced and ugly, spitting with fury. Thomas shoves the butt end of the pole up into the man’s groin. It seems light in his hands and such an easy thing to do. The axe seems to move for him.