Hand in Violent Hand

25 - The Black Bull 1480-1485

The Boar (Part 3)

Chapter 1 - "The Kings"

Margret of Anjou, Queen of England

I was going to take a walk outside this morning. The sun is shining.  Princess Anne said she would be by this afternoon just to go over correspondence.  King Louis has had strokes, so she's quite busy aiding him. I should send a note that she doesn't have to come. I have no further, interesting news.
The latest from my spies England is that the full army is mobilized for war with Scotland, and that they've invaded. Dividing their forces is good but we can't attack a mobilized army. I know Jasper knows that. I have my brother in law's latest message. I only got through decode the first line. He says that everything is in place now. I don't know if his plan will work. It may. But I know when he stops scheming, and fighting, he'll probably die. I never thought he was a man like that. But all men change. Time changes us. And life. Who would have thought we'd be here? Him sitting in a cell, me setting in sanctuary. He was fourteen, skidding into my parlor, mucky from a pond, followed by five dogs and a couple of his friends. Holding a lost bracelet triumphantly.
"I told you I'd find it for you," he beamed, mud on his face.
"Jasper and Harry it's freezing," I laughed, "I didn't tell you to go into the lake today!"
"We know," Harry said, crawling on his much sturdier friend.
"Anything for queen and country," Jasper said, prize grin on his face, suitably mucky, hugging his friend who had mostly crawled up him. And I'd spent the day doing what? Reading on my husband's colleges? We were happy and full of hope. we thought we'd always be that way.
Dear Harry, our Exeter. He is lost I fear. My last communication from England is that he was given the means to get free, but that could have failed. If he were free we'd have found him by now, so he is either dead or recaptured and held in secret. If he is dead he was not executed nor properly buried. That man has walked halfway across England and Scotland with my child on his shoulders. He taught my boy how to ride. He held me as I sobbed for the deaths of my son and husband. And we didn't even get to bury him? If he is in some captivity I have no doubt Jasper will find him but I doubt if he is. He's likely dead.
That's the thing of it.
We're not so young anymore.
I'm past fifty. We all are. We're not young people fighting wars. We get tired. We grow weak. My mind stays sharp but I grow tired. Out of breath. I'm not sure why and the doctors do little.
"We were supposed to grow old together," I say, quietly, looking down at the only ring on my hand. From Henry, when we were married. Simple gold band, nothing extravagant. He quietly explained it was from something of his mother's and he wanted me to have it. He had one as well, from the same gold. Split. He blushing said that it was because we were now one. And we'd forever be joined. "You promised. We were supposed to get to grow old together."
"We did," Henry says, his arm around me, as he sits with me upon the bed, "I'm right here. I never left you."
"I miss you so much," I say, leaning against his frail chest.
"It all past tense now," He says, kissing my forehead, "We are together. Forevermore."
"I'd like that," I whisper.
"As would I, my love."

Richard (eventual King of England)

"What do you mean he's not coming?" I ask.
I am standing in the middle of a moor in scotland. Being blasted by wind. Surrounded by a not at all sufficient army to take Scotland. With the bloody Scottish King in my possession.
"The army isn't mobilized, he's not—they aren't sailing," Buckingham shakes his head, reading the note, "I'm sorry, Boar."
"Does—he—give—a—reason?" I ask, a strange anger rising in my chest. I'm alone. He's leaving me alone. My brother isn't coming. He doesn't care. He's not coming as he promised. He is leaving me. Here.
"No, simply that it's off," Buckingham says, shaking his head.
I blink, staring at him. It's not a trick is it? This is really happening.
"I realize this is not a great time for this but—what are we doing? Then? Because last I checked we're in the middle of bloody Scotland. With —that—," he points at David, the King of Scotland, who is behind me, surrounded by guard.
"Look I wasn't even doing that well, let's focus on what would keep everyone alive," David says.
"Shut up," I breath.
"Boar we are getting no reinforcements now is an excellent time to put in that we can't take all of Scotland ourselves, probably, but I'd be willing to try," Buckingham says, adding the last part quickly.
"Or we could keep thinking and not do that," David says.  David is not a part of this decision.
"We're going to Edinburgh," I say.
"Oh please no," David says. For reasons that I have not yet fully grasped David isn't even king of all of Scotland he's supposed to be a lot of violent people aren't interested in listening to him.
"Is that—could we—do something else that isn't that possibly? Maybe?" Buckingham asks, "No? That's a no? Right then. Okay."
"Go get on your horse. We are going to Edinburgh. With the King of Scotland," I say, adding the last part because David was going to suggest staying behind. "Now."