The Fiddler (Hand in Hand Chronicles)

Chapter 12 - "like as the waves make towards a pebbled shore"

We live like ghosts ourselves now.
Life could never be the same I know that. My grief threatens to smother me. Every breath is like fighting against the water in my lungs. What I told her all those years ago was true. She was my rock to cling to in the waves. I care little for myself just like when I was a boy. Each day might as well be my last.
Except her children. Her beautiful children she gave to me. She loved them, we loved our family. They are my reason for living. I can't leave them. I know that. That doesn't make it easy. The thoughts come again and again that it would be so much less painful to die.
But I know that I cannot. She would not want me to. She'd tell me to do this.
Mary won't remember her mother. She won't know life with her mother. Ellie to an extent as well she is four when we bury her beautiful mother.
Blanche is as grief stricken as I am. As oldest she of course had the most memories of her mother, and she's been our little pal all her life. Before we'd spoken of her and Tommy moving if they wished to their own household. Now no more. I don't have the strength and she doesn't mention it. She didn't truly care to begin with. But now she does not leave me for that I am grateful. I don't expect her to take her mother's role with the others, she's in mourning to. Being here, helping me with work is enough. Her mother's properties that she handled that sort of thing, Tommy is of course completely upset as well but he rallies a bit and is a rock for us both, even taking care of visitors and handling much of the staff.
Harry and Emmy are hit hard. They're old enough to miss their mother and remember her but not old enough to handle their grief. They feel guilty for wanting to play. Both cry at night. We all cry at night. I'm making rounds to keep them all asleep. Sometimes I'll play the fiddle in the hall. That way they know I'm there and can listen. That helps a bit I think.
One night I'm making the rounds after midnight to ensure they're all in bed and asleep. I hear soft voices coming from Ellie's room.
Blanche is sitting up with her bed. The little girl has clearly been weeping.
"Do you know who this is?" Blanche is holding her pink velvet bunny toy.
Ellie shakes her head.
"This is Bunny. When I was your age, mum and papa, had one of our Welsh staff sew Bunny, out of mum's old dresses, and put special herbs and flowers in her, to protect me. Now, she's going to protect you. And when you hold Bunny she'll take care of you when you cry, it'll be like mum's hugging you again," Blanche says.
"I can keep it?" Ellie whispers.
"Yeah, she's yours now," Blanche says, kissing her forehead, "Get some sleep okay?"
Ellie nods.
I'm waiting outside the door. If Ellie's good I don't need to wake her up coming in we'll cry together it's bad I'm poor at comforting people.
Blanche slips out, she definitely saw me.
"I can't believe you still had that," I say, nodding.
"Of course! I love Bunny," she smiles, "I remember when we moved, or something, I'd always drop Bunny places, and you were always the one to find her, I think you had that in your girdle half the time, making sure I didn't lose it."
I smile a little, "I can't believe you remember all that."
She nods, "It'll do her more good than on my desk."
"Thank you. And for looking out for them," I say.
"We're a family, it's what we do," she says, "Come here we can't start crying."
"Too late," I say, hugging her tightly.
"Mum would tell us we're gonna wake the babies."
"We are," I laugh, tears streaming down my face, "I know I don't talk a lot but—your mother saved my life. You know my family—I wasn't doing well before she came into my life."
"You don't have to talk a lot," she smiles past her tears.
"Your mother told you?" I ask.
"She said you very nearly died, she told me that, the third time you sacked a nurse who didn't pick up Joan as gently as you thought she should," she says, gently.
"That's about it," I nod.
"You going to bed?" She asks, gently.
"Just, I'll play for a bit," I say, "Will that disturb you?"
"No, I've gone to sleep like that since I can remember," she smiles.
I play, and I try not to play a sad tune. One of water. And waves upon the sand. And children running down the beach in bright yellow tunics. And a brown eyed woman smiling into the sunlight.
We determine scientifically that we can't just walk around Kenilworth crying. That does no good. And while Blanche and Tommy and I want to sink into grief, the younger ones can't have that. This is their lives. We tell them stories of their beautiful mother and remember her. But we can't neglect them or the happiness they deserve. Their mother would not want that. I know what it felt like when my mother sank into grief and slipped away from me. I don't blame her. This hurts like hell. But I also know how much it hurt to understand why you're not enough to go on for. I can weep in private. Play chess in my head. Imagine her back in my arms. But the children need some normalcy, I have learned in some forty years of life I'm terrible at being normal.
To that end we do things differently. I move us to different houses. We actually go up to court and I attend Parliament. That's boring but the children get to meet people and it distracts them. Edward's oldest son is the same age basically as Harry and Emmy, and Joan they're all three right in there. The younger ones are all younger and in the nursery. The older he has following him around.  I keep all my children with me, constantly. Well, they can be in their rooms or whatever. The word 'clan' is floated in certain circles, 'gang' in others, they function mostly as a unit and we do the odd family activity. Mary, little soul, bonds most to me. Losing her mother like that? I don't know, but I mostly take her she spurns even nurses, and Blanche will help with the older ones, they need less care she's young herself, and she's a moral support for them, while Mary clings to me. That gets me strange looks I don't care. Bell isn't a lot better, she's always been my tiny shadow, and the only one to look a bit like her mother. So at any given time I have two tiny girls who admittedly look mostly like me, trailing behind me or propped in my arms. If I'm not in Parliament or working they follow me silently like dogs. Which apparently is weird.
The thing I like about spending time with Edward is. However not normal I am currently appearing he's so much worse. Case in point, I'm reclining in a chair, sipping wine, my two youngest daughters having a mock siege with some blocks at my feet. And Edward is in the chair next to me saying:
"Once. You show up to Parliament having rowed down the Thames ONCE. And then for the rest of my life if I say I'm going somewhere it's 'are you going to row there?'," he says. A significant part of that story is that he just did it. He like, invited his staff and literally everyone he met along the way so just regular common people that he befriended to do physical activity with. An Edward of Carnerfearon party. If I liked meeting new people it might be a good time.
"Is this general or about your wife?" I ask.
"Oh general. But it's her who usually says it. I thought sounded like fun. It was fun," he says, he's fixing one of his greyhound's collars. It's a fine summer afternoon and we're sitting by the back of Windsor, watching the children, of mine including Harry and Emmy having sword practice. My other children are inside getting important papers from Edward's desk while Edward is distracted. Against my better judgement I like my cousin and I'd like him to stay alive. He's not good at that.
"Yes, please tell us more ways you inspire your citizen's confidence," Richmond says, head back, eyes closed.  He knows what my kids are doing and he's going to help me read it. We agreed together we can parent Edward. As a project. That's very derogatory but the man still trusts Hugh Despenser for Christ's sake. Hugh Despenser might as well have 'don't trust me' on his family crest he says in regular conversation the crimes he's committed.
"If you're going to talk politics Richmond I'll have you removed," Edward says, finally finishing with the dog's collar. He looks up, "They tired yet? God Eddie's a whirlwind."
"He's a boy," I say, dismissively.
"How late does yours stay up having pretend jousts?" Edward asks.
"They go to bed on time," I say.
"He probably has some weird and criminally effective rule that if they want to get up they can play chess silently or read and he'll do it with them," Richmond says. He's right but he didn't have to say it like that.
"He's obsessed with jousting," Edward says. Against the laws of nature the kid acts and looks a bit, like Gaveston and Edward, not Edward and his wife. Richmond and I think it's funny. I assume the wife doesn't. I mean that's not how it works but here the kid is obsessed with jousting.
"I'm going to go get another dog, you two need anything? Henry do you need some more of your children?" Edward asks, very nicely but I know it's sarcasm.
"No the four causing chaos is sufficient," I say, pleasantly, but I'm observing something. He shrugs and goes on. I'm usually watching my kids spar but my gaze roves over to another set of pages sparring. One is clearly winning, rather well, a short thing with very short dark hair. And green eyes.
"Is there any way, that is not—," I gesture generally.
"I have no clue what you're talking about," Richmond says, primly.
"Of course you don't. HARRY! I NEED YOU TO GO SPAR WITH RICHMOND'S PAGE OVER THERE IN THE GREY TUNIC I'M TRYING TO PROVE SOMETHING!" I shout and make the appropriate hand gestures.
"ON IT," Harry shouts, bouncing over to ask the page to fight.
"You can't prove anything," Richmond says.
Muffled, in the distance:
Harry: "Can I spar with you?"
Saucy green eyed thing: "I don't know, can you?"
Harry: "Well let's find out fuckwit."
Saucy Green Eyed thing: "It's going to be so much fun watching you eat the grass."
Here, on the edge of the lawn. I look over at Richmond.
"So that's interesting that you can prove something, fine," he sighs, "How do you know?"
"That's my Emmy out there. I know what a little girl looks like dressed up as a page. And that man's daughter would not live quietly in a nunnery," I say.
"Showed up on my doorstep with her father's dagger, Maggie knows," he says, quietly, "She sees her."
"Edward know?" I ask.
"He thinks she's still at the priory. Really that's on him for not visiting her," Richmond says.
"If you think about it critically it is. What's the name?" I ask.
"Pierce."
I stare at him.
"I think I'm funny when I'm drunk, anyway little scrap liked it. Insists on being a knight, and hasn't once slipped," he says, "Bastard of Lancaster if you like."
"Excellent I'm now fucking involved in that situation, you know the Despensers can keep this spinning another year at best," I say.
"God yes, please, the kid's been with me throw him in with your lot, no one will notice there's already so many," Richmond says. Long pause, "Does Edward know your little girl is out there? Or does he think you have two boys?"
"He hasn't understood for about five years how many kids I have and now he's afraid to ask," I say.
"Reasonable," Richmond nods.
On the lawn Harry and I guess Pierce have knocked one another over and are laughing, clearly friends. Emmy bounces over to avenge her brother.  Eddie, our prince, hurries over to a fight he's not yet been involved in. I have seven kids I know when they're about to start wrestling.
I am not going to do anything about it because I want them to sleep through the night. Minimum three crawl in my bed as it is better if they fall asleep quickly after doing that and don't roll around and miss their mother and make me start crying.
"Are they still at it?" Edward asks, coming back.
"Good for them," Richmond says, not even looking.  A fight is about to break out. Organized. They're picking sides.
"Are they—oh god they're tackling each other," Edward says.
"It's fine," I say.
"You're protective of your children," Edward says, accusingly.
"Correct and they bite."
Nobody gets bitten and Edward laughs when he thinks I was joking. I wasn't all my kids bite I taught them to.
Our baby Pierce is a puffy cheeked, angry, sarcastic, foul mouthed creature with flashing green eyes. So. A miniature Gaveston. Harry introduces us.
"This is my new enemy," he says, so pleased.
"I see. I knew your father," I say smiling.
Pierce's eyes flash.
"I'm a friend of Richmond's. We'll talk," I say, messing up her hair. She swats at me. Good talk.
And that's how I gain another child. I really did not think that would happen after my beloved wife's death but here I am. An additional kid. I'd leave her with Richmond, but we both know civil war is coming. Edward can't keep holding the power not when his own court is against him, and his wife is growing sick of him.
"Why do I always get Edward duty and have to be here and you get to go home with your kids? I'd like to go home to my wine," Richmond says.
"Because your wine can't die my kids can," I say, flatly, "I'm taking this new one. I'll give it a good home."
"I'm right here and I'm not a pet!" Pierce says, folding her arms.
"Shhh," I pat her head, "You'll like your new siblings."
"Fine, I'll take Edward, you, be good," Richmond says, pinching her cheek. She swats at him playfully.
I think that it's going to be a smooth transition as I'm used to having little girls about. It's not. The kid grew up in a priory apparently trying to escape, she's not used to a routine and actual parenting, let alone playmates.
"You can wear dresses and such and still learn swordplay, my daughters do," I tell her, "We'll call you Joan as well. We're Lancasters we're great at lying."
"No. I want to be a knight. I've always wanted to be a knight. I like being Pierce," she says, "And I want to be called a boy. Don't tell anyone I'm a girl."
"As you will," I shrug. Her father would want her happy. So would her mother. Maggie's remarried. I expect she'll come battering down my door to visit her baby, and she does.
Edward does find out. Not on his own. He finds out because he sends someone to the priory to collect her for marriage and they admit they lost the kid. So then he collapses in an inconsolably heap until someone guesses Richmond knows something because he's just day drinking and existing, and summons him. And consequently me because now I'm complicit. We're up at Windsor for Christmas, conveniently so all of my children are here plus our little french child.
"She's not dead Edward," Richmond says, so tiredly, hand over his face.
"You don't know that," Edward weeps, "They probably murdered her, just like her father."
"Her father's murderers are dead. Also we do know that," I say.
"No, you don't," Edward mops his face with a hand.
"Yes we do, she's with me," I sigh.
"What?" He snaps his head up, "You—,"
"Me actually. She bolted from the priory showed up at my door, I took her in, gave her to Henry," Richmond explains, quickly.
"How —-could you—,"
"Easily her father is still hated. She's at Kenilworth, fine," I say, like she's not two halls over probably getting into trouble with my kids. "We couldn't exactly speak of it. And you didn't notice so we let it be. Now you noticed."
"Yes I noticed! How—is she all right? All that way—," he breaks off, clearly guilty.
"She's fine," Richmond says.
"Happy, playing with my kids, Maggie knows."
"Did everyone know but me?" Edward asks, annoyed now.
"No," we say, in unison. Basically yes.
Aimee, the older girl, lives in Edward's nursery taking care of his kids, she absolutely knows where the baby sibling went. Her mother they said was 'ailing', I take that to mean 'living in seclusion at some remote property with our long lost Gaveston sister', and I think I'm right. Everyone of any importance knew, but him. The kid hasn't really met him so it doesn't matter. The angry greened eyed sarcastic thing, gets along just brilliantly with my naughty sarcastic red haired things. I like to think Gaveston and Maud both find this amusing.
Edward is in his usual state of rapidly losing control of the Barons, of which I am one now and I've started to go to meetings and take Harry and Tommy so they can learn from the experience. When I hear myself speak it occurs to me I'm probably not a good influence.
"The Despensers are corrupt!" Mortimer, young fellow, probably fucking our Queen Isabela.
"And? Water is wet is there a reason you're waisting air locally?" I ask.
The boys think I'm funny, they about laugh.
"They need to be stopped," another Baron agrees.
"How? How are you going to do that? How about we just let them commit one crime we can charge them with that we find out about? Then we charge them, Edward cries, but he can't do anything because we have proof. Despenser has to leave, we appoint someone else in his place offhand, NOT Mortimer, someone clever who can actually make sense of whatever in god's name my brother in law has DONE to the royal accounts," I say, leaning back in my chair.
Nobody listens to me. Of course not. We update the the girls when Parliament finally ends.
"He told them the best course of action they wouldn't listen," Harry says.
"That I did," I say, tuning my fiddle, Mary leaning on my one arm.
"What's our next move then?" Blanche asks.
"I'm aware 'retreat to Kenilworth and do nothing' shan't be popular," I say, dryly.
"We have to help, if they get rid of the Despensers then King Edward has nothing," Tommy says.
"Yeah we can't leave," Pierce says, stubbornly.
"Please Papa?" Joan sighs.
I look around at them, "What you're encouraging me to do is win an English Civl war, and put myself and by extension all of you down range from the vitriolic hate that's been building up over the last twenty odd years."
"It's the right thing to do," Harry says.
"You're the one who says we use our cleverness to help people," Emmy says.
"King Edward could die we know they'll kill," Pierce says.
"We can do it," Ellie says, hopefully.
"If it's war so be it, this time the King has Lancaster on his side, we don't lose," Harry says.
I look around at their hopeful faces, "You don't know that I have a plan."
"Of course you have a plan!!" About five of them.
"Please, father," Blanche says, looking me in the eyes, "Win it this time. I know you can."
I sigh. This is going to be dangerous. But the children could use a distraction we're all still mourning their mother. And this is something that can involve the whole family. We haven't had a group project lately since the better hunting ended. Might be nice. "You all have to agree to stay with the plan, and follow what I say. You can debate with me in private. But, we have to be a united front."
"Yes!"
"Yay!"
"Yes!"
"Thank you," Blanche smiles.
"Tell me this what do you do if you have a favorite dog, but it keeps running before the bows and won't wait for your command? Risking it's own life?" I ask, going back to the fiddle.
They all look at each other.
"Tie it up in the kennels," Joan says.
"Yes, if it can't be taught," Emmy says.
"And if you've a horse that shies at every stream do you take it hunting through the wood?" I ask.
"No," Tommy says, a bit tiredly.
"Why not?" I ask.
"It's not safe," Bell whispers, looking up from her toys.
"Yeah the dog'll get shot," Harry says.
"Or you'll get thrown," Blanche humors me.
"Correct. So if you care at all about the dog you lock it up," I say, "Because it's kinder, even the dog thinks it's cruel. You've saved its life, and you care far more about a sweet dog than if it's any good at hunting."
"Why are we talking about this?" Pierce asks, suspicious. The kids' new here it's excused.
"Edward's had his chance, his two lances down. Once when you father was killed, secondly when my brother revolted. The second time he only escaped because I played his moves for him, and returned to support him in the aftermath. I'm not running before bows again to save him. He's had more than ample chance to prove he can play the game. He can't. And if I save him today the next time I might not be here to do it, and worse he might take some of you down with him," I say, continuing to fix the strings.
"What does that mean?" Pierce doesn't trust me. Smart kid.
"Prince Edward is still worth saving. With him on the throne it's a much simpler game for me to play. Clear his path a bit while he learns the rules, and remove his father," I say.
"How?" Tommy asks, going white.
"You know how?" Harry asks.
"He walked into this room knowing how to depose a king," Blanche says, but not nicely, like she's tired of me. I smile at her and she smirks back.
"Listen closely. We're playing Edward's moves for him and also his opponents, namely Mortimer and I assume Isabela. Step one. Let them clear the board."
Hugh Despenser is outed, for crimes, of which he is guilty. And he responds in the most in character way possible, by becoming a pirate in the English Channel. I don't have a lot of additional information on that situation but that is what he does.
Queen Isabela wants to go home to France with our young crown prince. She will undoubtedly come back with an army. I send Pierce along as a spy along with a couple of my men. Queen Isabela immediately dismisses them. As I knew she would.
"Why send me if you knew I'd get sent back? Now Lionel is alone," Pierce says. They all call the young prince Lionel. It's a fine if weird code name and the boy is attached to it.
"Second move. Is the boy going to trust his mother when she sent away not only his staff but also his friends, like you?" I ask, we're at Kenilworth waiting this out.
"No, I mean I'd be cross if you sent away my siblings, or something," Harry reasons.
"I don't like him over there alone," Tommy says.
"Nor will he. Isabella wants to usurp her husband once and for all. Very easy when she has a crown prince. That's what women get sons for. When Blanche was born, your lovely mother and I fully prepared for you to be my heir, and your mother to be your guardian, in the event of my death. That required my will to be honored, but it was there. Harry it's automatic so much easier he has a good claim in court even if something happened to my will," I say, "Once Harry was born legally, your mother didn't need me anymore much less once he was half of age. Likewise Isabela doesn't need her husband anymore. She has a son, who's coming of age. That should work out fine for her, honestly it usually does. My own mother did the same with my sister, Queen of Navarre. She had an heir so her husband died under unusual circumstances in his sleep."
"WHAT," all nine of them.
"What does this have to do with Lionel?" Pierce is focused honestly a great kid, glad we have him.
"It's going to be easy for the young prince to rely on his mother and let her put him on the throne. We do want that. We also want him to start distrusting her. He's our puppet not hers. Which means we have to let her make a few blunders, the first, sending away his friends and alienating him from his father. He'll be resentful. How would any of you have felt—not you Pierce you're new here—if your mother had kept you in France? And I'd come back to play politics? Or Harry if I'd taken you with and left your sisters behind?" I ask.
"Hurt," he says.
"I mean confused at least," Blanche says.
"We're used to you," Joan says. I pinch her cheek.
"Obviously. So he's going to be confused. Edward isn't great at being king, no judgement, he's just a man. And he's a good father. Pierce so was yours, they were good fathers. Your father went to meet you at the danger of his own life. Edward has been present for his children's births, gets them pets like you people have, that sort of thing. Our young prince is going to want his dad. He doesn't know he's not a good king yet, he knows he's a good dad," I say, "So Isabella made a poor move. She dismissed you and separated him from his father. He's confused at best, angry at worst."
"Okay, what's our next move? We can't leave him alone," Tommy says.
"Right now we can, he's safe. Isabela loves him, as much as she knows how. What's more he's her playing piece. He'll be back in our hands soon rest assured," I say, "We have two major forces, the Scots my old allies, I might use them to embarrass Mortimer they already removed my brother I've not fully decided. But our first priority, and Isabela's is Edward. She can't put the boy on the throne. Not while he lives."
"He can give up the crown," Emmy says, "Right?"
"He can but it's weak, right? Like he's still a threat," Blanche says.
"Correct. He's an anointed king, revoking the crown means little and we all know it. But it's nearly a stalemate you can't kill an anointed king. And of course we don't want to. But Isabela doesn't know that. My brother was a cruel cruel man. She'll think I would kill a king. No telling what I might do. She's going to return with an army. Which means she needs Lancaster on her side," I say.
"So we catch him first," Pierce realizes.
I snap my fingers, "Excellent. Isabela asks for my aid. She'll know there will be a price but she expects me to commit her own regicide. Because it in all theory benefits us both. So I accept. She thinks she's using us, we're using her. Let her go crown the boy. We need to get Edward. This is going to take everyone. Tommy, you're my eyes in court, along with Aimee. Girls, you and Harry and Pierce are here, we're playing on our board at an advantage."
"And we save the king," Ellie bounces.
"If he wants to be saved. You can't help someone who won't be helped. But we're going to try," I say. He helped me learn to stop drowning. He's a good man. I am going to try one more time to reach him.
"I know you tried to save my father," Pierce says, softly.
"I did. Clearly not enough, but, it was largely Edward's errors that killed him, not his own. This time I'm not longer advising Edward I'm ordering him. He won't like that. But we have to try," I say, "Let's get to work."
I write to Richmond that we are saving Edward. Cooperate with Isabella, follow my lead. He replies in the affirmative.
Isabella, as I predicted writes to me. She knows she needs us if she's going to take Edward. He'll know she's invading he's not a complete fool we think. He'll mount some defenses, and if I'm one of them it's going to be bloody.
I have no interest in bloodshed. I reply cordially, of my full intent to support her cause, but that that will come with a price. I will be on the new king's privy council. And I get the entire Lancaster inheritance, making me the richest man in England.
She agrees. She has to. I've got her in check. Her game won't work without Lancaster. But I let her think it's sheer greed.
Hugh Despenser is in the channel committing piracy. I'm turning that man into a bloody three week lesson plan on how not to live your life. My children think I'm ridiculous. That's not important but it's really ridiculous and I tell as many people as possible.
My spies report when Isabela and her army are sailing back to England, the young prince in tow. Edward mounts his own defenses. Which means we have to move quickly. The children all have their jobs. It's time to strike.
I know Edward possibly better than any other man living, excluding my children. I know his moves. They're not complicated. He's going to flee to Wales. Wales is great, there's mountains, good castles, I own many. But Pembroke is a secure fortress. If he can make it there a ship perhaps to Scotland or somewhere he can plead aid. It's an obvious if simple move.
I ride to south Wales and sure enough we run across his forces. We have the superior army. And Edward definitely will believe he can talk me around. His army is half my size. And he's never been a fan of pitched battles. Nor am I but I can run one and he knows it. We parlay.
"Why would you ride with Isabela—? My son doesn't want to depose me it's Mortimer, back me, I'll give you Lancaster and parts of Wales. I do think we've fully lost Hugh you can take his place—," Edward begins, hands up.
"Not bad, you do get some marks for offering me rewards you can't give, you forget I don't want power I want to go home. Get on your horse, we're going to Kenilworth, right now," I say.
"I am your king —," Edward beings.
"And I'm the man with the sword," I say, drawing my longsword smoothly. He's in mail it'll cut right through. and he knows I could cut off his hand before he even drew a weapon.
"You're —threatening me?" Edward asks, hurt flashing in his blue eyes.
"If it gets you out of this bloody field yeah. I am. Get on your fucking horse. We are going to Kenilworth. Right now," I say.
"What is this?" He asks.
"This is endgame. I don't lose. I've had to bury my wife. I'm not burying the closest thing I have to a brother," I say, with no emotion, sword still drawn. "Drop your weapons. Get on your horse. We have little time."
"You're kidnapping me," he realizes, "That's treason."
"I'm saving your fucking life. Now, do you trust me?" I ask, staring into his eyes.
He says nothing.
"Edward, do you trust me?" I ask.
He sighs, "Yes."
"Then get on your horse. We're going to Kenliworth. I can save your life if you let me," I say.
"I won't die."
"Get on your horse, Edward. Now."
He comes with me, reluctantly, but he does. By the time we reach Kenilworth though he's ready to bolt. He's never been here. And he knows a fortress when he sees one. Then he sees my guards and realizes he has little choice.
"No word yet from York, they've landed," Blanche greets me. I kiss her cheeks.
"Lionel?"
"Demanding to talk to his father."
"Perfect. I'll mind this one, you know what to do."
"Is he cooperating?"
"It's as I expected give me time," I say, squeezing her arm.
Edward is understandably annoyed, possibly a bit more so when he sees me greet my little girls with an embrace, Mary in one arm, Ellie in the other, Bell clinging to my back.
"I need to talk with our cousin, go finish your lessons I'll try to come up in a bit," I say, it's late. They girls hug me again then obediently go with the nurses. Edward watches, a little irritated but I give him that. I also say goodnight to my kids. They're used to me or their mother bidding them goodnight, well Mary probably doesn't remember her mother. If this runs late then I'll come up and play so if they wake they'll know I'm back and all's well.
"What is this, Henry? Are you Thomas now?" Edward snarls. We're in the dining hall my people brought food and wine.
"No, if I were Thomas you'd be dead already," I say, leaning on a chair, "Eat something."
He stares at me.
"Oh right," I lift a cup of wine to him, "You think I'd have let my kids in this room if there was poison in the wine? They put their little hands on everything."
"Did you—just become more offended that I implied you're a poor father, than that I implied you'd murder your king?" Edward asks, not even angry more genuinely worried about me.
"Yes," I nod.
"You're right this isn't you. So why are we doing this?" He asks, rubbing his face, "What is this?"
"You need to stop being angry. With me. With everyone. And listen. This isn't personal. This is a game. One I can win. So listen to me. If I wanted you dead you already would be so get that out of your head," I say, braced on the back of the chair.
"Fine," he says, so clearly still angry.
He doesn't trust me. All right. I can bring that back. First.
"Here's what the everyone knows. The common people of England know you're a mostly fair king who walks in the streets with them, who buys their fish, who pays his servants well and treats them as his friends. Here's what the nobles of England know, you're a troubled king who trusts the wrong people whose reign—I am aware most of this wasn't you directly—has been troubled by famine and wars they want peace. Here's what Isabela knows, she doesn't need you now that she's got your son. Here's what your son knows, his father last wrote that he was disappointed he wants his father to be proud of him but his mother's feeding him lies day and night. Here's what Mortimer knows, it's very easy to puppeteer a thirteen year old king and god he'd love to bleed the royal coffers dry. Here's what Richmond knows, he has love for you but not above saving his own neck. We're old men he can go along with the regime change and die in peace not in battle. He'll choose that option. Here's what I know. You're my cousin and I love you. And right now I'm the only person with any power who cares about saving your life. Every other person the list would benefit from your death. I caught you so I get the prize but I'm on your sons' council they'll ask why you're not dead. If I say that I won't kill an anointed king they'll draw up a royal order to hand you over to someone without morals, I just assume Mortimer and you won't be long upon this earth," I say, staring at him.
He takes a breath, rubbing his face.
"If you say 'I am king' one more time I'll hit you," I say, "Gaveston died for my brother's petty amusement, by the side of the road, still fighting, do you seriously think, when you hold the crown, they'll do you better?"
"Then why didn't you back me when they invaded?" Edward cries, "That's all you had to do we—,"
"We would have lost, Edward! They have a hired army payment for your son's hand in marriage, if we didn't lose the first time we'd lose when they returned, and then if by some miracle we won what are you going to do, execute your own wife? Be seen as a tyrant? They'd kill you for that. France would kill you for that. And that's if we both survived. I don't fucking lose," I say, pacing around the table, "Do you hear me? I am making the best choices to keep us both alive, to keep our children alive. You are king, yes, you hold the crown that means your life is so incredibly cheap."
"How do I know that? With love Henry—my wife is trying to kill me—why are you doing this? You just said yourself you brought me here, I know this is your home where your young daughters are—why would you do that? You said yourself you don't lose," he says.
"I used to be afraid of water. You remember that," I say.
"What?"
"I was afraid of water. Because when I was, probably four, Thomas would take me down to the river, and he'd push my head underwater. Once he put my favorite toy on a rock and bid me swim to it. I did. And then he held me under water, shouting for help, but pushing my head underwater," I say.
"What?" He keeps staring at me, so confused.
"I was terrified naturally, of water. You and Richmond you took me to Bath—because of my neck. I don't know if you even remember it was probably thirty odd years ago. I was too scared even to step in. And you didn't know why. You didn't know what'd happened. You were always a great swimmer. But you saw I was afraid. And you held my hand and promised me I would not drown. You didn't even know why it was so horrifying to me, or what it meant to finally know that someone was not going to shove my head under water. I was a child. I genuinely thought you would do that, I was sure, everyone, would push my head underwater. You showed me it wasn't true, for no reason, other than to be kind when you saw my fear. Do you see now why I'm standing here trying to do everything to stop you from drowning?" I ask, very very calmly.
"He—was drowning you? As a child? Henry that's awful," Edward says, tears in his eyes, "I can't believe he did that to you!"
"He killed your lover! Why is this shocking information?" I ask confused.
"Because that's torture I thought—," he looks down.
"He didn't kill Gaveston, because of —you loving him. He killed him because it was an excuse to be evil," I say, gently.
Tears stream down his face, he brushes them away, "Have you ever told anyone that?"
"My wife, had the general idea, not in so many words I can't. It's survival. I lock it all away," I say, drumming my fingers on the table.
He takes a deep breath.
"You have two options right now. Your son's demanding to see you, they won't allow that he loves you. So they're going to have you sign papers giving him your crown because the boy won't be crowned otherwise, Montague and Aimee are my current spies they say he's weeping and insisting he see you that he won't be king if you don't agree. So, option one," I say, setting a red chess king on the table, "I kill you right now. Death of your choosing. You die a king. It is over. I'll do it painless I do have poison you can go to sleep we'll bury you in Westminster."
He raises a hand.
I raise an eyebrow.
"Why do you have props for this? That's very upsetting. Also why do you have poison?"
"You're worse than my kids," I say, setting out a black chess king, "Option two, you sign those papers. You give up your crown. And you disappear. With the crown signed over  it's over and you're never seen or heard from again. You can live out the rest of your life in sanctuary."
He stares at the pieces, "Those aren't options."
"Yes they are. They are your only options. There is no road in which you remain king. And your son remains alive he's just usurped your throne not willingly. That's treason all the same. And I captured you that's treason too. I won't let you kill him. I won't let you kill me. You know you can't kill your wife. There's no path that leads you back to the throne, not anymore," I say, "I don't blame you if you want option 1. I wanted it too once. I wanted it over, so the pain would stop. When my wife died I'd have taken that red king in a heartbeat. But."
He shakes his head.
"My children live. They need me. Your children live. Your son needs you alive. He doesn't want you dead, nor do the others. And you deserve to stay alive. You can still do some good in this world. Write to your children. Live in sanctuary and peace, at least know that your children were well. It's what I want. It's why I'm still here," I say, tapping the black king, "But the choice is yours. If you ask to die a king. I'll let you go. But I'm not going to turn you over to them, to kill you how they see fit. I'll give you a death with honor, if that's what you ask of me."
He takes a breath, tears are in his eyes.
"You can think it over," I say.
"I don't want to die," he says, quietly.
"Okay," I say, "I'll help you."
"Do you even have a plan?" Edward asks, picking up the black king, slowly.
"No, Edward. I brought you here to my actual home, where my daughters are, at the hazard of my own life and my family's because I have no plan—of COURSE I have a plan," I cry.
"All right," he laughs, mostly humorlessly, holding up his hands, "What is the plan?"
"Are you sure? You'll give up your crown? Because if you change your mind, if you try to come back, or raise an army? I can't save you from that," I say, "I'd be on your sons' side, on my sons' side. This is your chance."
"No. I'm done," he says, "I won't—you're right. I won't go to war against my own son. I wouldn't do that. I'm not my father."
"All right," I nod.
"So—how exactly do you plan on getting me —what out of England? You said yourself everyone needs me dead, and it's bloody obvious who I am," he says, gesturing to his face. He's taller than most anyone, bear of a man with gold hair and blue eyes, relatively distinct though usually dressed well. Just obviously king and he's been king a while most people have a passing knowledge of what he looks like.
I smile, "Oh we can manage that. Step one, you're going to sign these papers turning over the crown."
"I thought you said they hadn't sent them—this is a blank parchment."
"Correct. Right now everyone thinks you're at Kenilworth. The most secure castle in England. It's impossible to get in or out so you can't escape. So they'll never look for you. Sign let me get a good grasp of your hand and one of my agents will copy it when the time is right."
"Is one of your agents—one of your children?"
"Yes they've needed a project since their mother died speaking of," I say, going to the door, and knocking on the wall three times.
An inordinate number of kids skid into the room, mostly in disguises.
"On it," Tommy says, looking Edward up and down.
"Two days," I call to him.
"Done," he waves.
"What?" Edward asks.
"I need someone, specifically a corpse, in place of you," I say, as my daughters bring him sets of simple clothes. Joan is hauling a bag.
"You can't walk out the front of gate of Kenilworth there are spies—Bell are there still spies?" I ask, as my daughter runs up and hangs on my waist.
"Yes, papa," she whispers. That kid whispers we don't know why but I hear her fine.
"Correct I will be recognized, I am in the middle of London," Edward sighs.
"Not with us you won't," Harry says, cheerfully, pushing a small bowl of black dye over.
"Here, —watch it," Emmy is making the appropriate noises as Pierce and Joan help darken her hair.
"These three are going to take a servant who looks tall enough to be you out the main gate," I say, pointing to the Emmy, Pierce, and Harry. All my redhead children are having their hair blackened, "That'll throw off any spies they get to town, they're dressed as servants it's completely innocent. Meanwhile, you're walking out of Kenilworth."
"Isn't it all swamp?" Edward asks.
"Correct, but I know my way around, I grew up here," Blanche says.
"And I'm coming too," Joan bounces. All my girls are dressed as boys I can tell Edward trying briefly to figure out which is which then promptly giving up.
"We'll walk you out, through the swamp. If we're stopped you're a fisherman and two sons, they're not looking for that," Blanche says, as her sisters help her perfect her disguise.
"You get to the road, meet those three who have long since lost their tail," I say, pointing at Emmy, Harry, and Pierce, "They'll take you to the coast. I have a merchant shipment of wool that just came from Ghent, I already said I was sending my own staff back to purchase wool for my daughter's spring dresses."
"Which is something he does," Harry puts in, "Often."
"Correct, but this time it'll be you and we'll have to get our wool elsewhere," I say, producing papers, "Coins, sewn into the lining are gold rings you can sell, but these would be what I'd send you to buy the cloth, as well as my orders all in my hand. You speak English, speak French poorly. Walk with a stoop if you can."
Edward stares down at it, "When?"
"Tonight. They will not expect it that quickly, they won't be searching ships they think I'm on their side. I'm going to London to start bullying parliament and lying to people," I say.
"His two true passions," Blanche says, cheerfully, putting on her bag.
"The girls hike back, all right, you three, go, lose your tail," I say, to Harry, Emmy, and Pierce.
"Are you ready?" I ask Edward.
He nods, "Is this going to work?"
"One way to find out," I smirk.
He smiles.
Of course it works. It's my game after all.