To Keep A King

Chapter 3

3       

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Summer 1517
Greenwich Palace
London

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Eight years into our reign and one year after the birth of Mary, our once peaceful and idyllic England has been thrown into turmoil. An outbreak of plague has struck the city of London and the surrounding areas. This spell is not as vicious as ones we have seen before - I believe I survived a worse outbreak when I first came to England - but we must take precautions anyway.

Henry wants to remain in London for as long as he can, for he is in the midst of much work and many new negotiations, but I am travelling to one of our residences in the countryside with Mary.

"You will take precautions to keep safe, won't you?" I ask Henry as he has come to say goodbye. My ladies are packing up clothes and furniture around us, though we are travelling relatively lightly since we hope not to be away for too long.

"Of course, my dear." Henry reassures me. "I will close the castle gates and put guards at the entrances; nobody will enter the palace from the outside, for inside we have so far avoided this plague, this pestilence."

"My physician thinks it is the sweating sickness." I add.

"Very possibly, we haven't had an outbreak for a while."

"But you know how quickly and easily it spreads," I worry, "are you sure you won't come away with us?"

"I am the King, Katherine, I can't be seen to run away at the slightest provocation."

I turn away and continue gathering items to pack. I know Henry is strong and will be careful, but I cannot help but worry greatly. After all, we have no son to be the heir should the worst occur, but I dare not discuss this with him.

"Please try not to worry so much, Katherine." Henry places his arm around me and draws me to him, sensing my concern. I gaze into his blue eyes, framed by his red hair and brows. "I will be fine, and you and Mary will be very safe out in the countryside."

I nod and give into his assurance. He draws me to him and holds me against his chest. I rest my head on his shoulder and relax completely, but I do not feel him do the same. I look up at his face without moving my body and see that his gaze is not fixed on me, but on another. I pretend not to notice as I turn and continue packing, but a quick look in the right direction takes me directly to one of my ladies: Elizabeth Blount. I try not to think on this too much, for we have more to worry about in this moment. Perhaps it was only a coincidence. Or perhaps, after eight years of marriage, it was not.

By midday, my ladies and I are already beginning our journey out of London. Mary and her nurses are in the carriage behind us. Though I would like to have kept my daughter with me, I would rather my coach go first and clear the way so that it may be a little safer for Mary.

Although we take the fastest route out of the city, avoiding as many of the infected areas and houses as possible, it is impossible for someone with sight and sense to ignore what is happening all around us. Dante himself could not have described this, for our own circle of hell is all the more realistic than his poetic fury. It is earth seeing this plague, this sweat, and undoubtedly we are being punished for something. On either side of the carriage, the streets are lined with people crying, shouting, panicking, and dying. I see relatives being forced to shut their ill families in the house and leave them. I see poor souls, young and old, sweating in houses and beds, knowing that this pestilence will not leave them. I see people desperately trying to get out of the city before the sweat reaches them. But where would these people go? Only the rich have second residences outside of the city. I cannot tear my eyes away from the turmoil and disaster which has struck our city. And in times like these, it is impossible not to feel the dreadful claws of guilt. I am fortunate, for I am wealthy and royal and will be afforded the best privilege to survive.