~Divine Intervention~

22nd of August, near Thirsk....

A force of over fifteen thousand departed Ripon in the early morning after three days spent there, rejoicing in the newly crowned King and awaiting the arrival of more men. The House of York had been well rewarded for staying put!

Now came another long wait as the royals waited on the east side of the river swale, outside the village of Topcliffe, for the men to travel across. It would certainly take some time for them all to get across the small stone bridge and so they dismounted and a temporary camp was put up, a royal tent with tables inside and out. 

They were quickly filled with food but while Constance, Marie and their friends (who were not overseeing the crossing) broke their fast, Edward was amongst his guards, greeting the villagers that had quickly emerged from their homes to catch a glimpse of him. His Mother had told him to sit, that they could view him from afar while he quenched his thirst and rested his body a little but Edward would have none of it!

"My people have come to see me!" He'd told her with an easy smile "And see me they will!" There was no denying she admired it but still couldn't help keeping a close eye on him as she ate.

"Perhaps I should join him" She murmured, wiping the crumbs of a sweetmeat from the corners of her mouth with the napkin laid over her shoulder "Just in case"

"Oh leave the lad, Connie" John said, draining his cup of wine then leaning over the table, put her in hand, to refill hers "He's well, just look at him" She was. He was smiling as he'd done in Ripon, his merry laugh was travelling to her ears every minute or so as he raised men and women from their knees "He comes to the attention naturally"

"It is not his handling of the attention I'm worried about, it's his safety"
"He has his guards around him" Rob replied "And we are not leagues away! Dickon is only at the bridge, he can ride here in an instant if there is trouble!"

She knew they were right but still couldn't take her eyes from her son, sipping her wine slowly. To go to him now would only serve to make him look like a child, she supposed. That wouldn't be helpful. Perhaps it was best to make the most of seeing him smile before his raging vengeance was unleashed upon his enemies?

"George!" Immediately the strapping young Neville was striding over to his Father and leant against the back of his chair with a grin.

"Father?" John held a silver goblet above his head, drops of wine sloshing over the sides and onto his tabard "Take this to the King, would you? His is tiering work" As George took the cup and walked off with it, John managed to Constance's eye and winked. He'd sent George to calm her nerves.

Thank you she mouthed across the table. He sent her a nod; raised his cup to her. Just like his brother used to do.

༻᯽༺

Once the army was safely across the Swale, they were upon their mounts and travelling again - one silver goblet less than before. Edward had given it to a poor man, reasoning that the fellow would have far more used for it than he! And while Richard commended him for his gallantry, he'd pointed out he might need that silver to melt down another day.

Edward simply replied that it wasn't another day.

"Besides" He'd added "will the memory of my gift not secure the love of Topcliffe's people? I might need that another day too and men are far more valuable than silver" Constance grinned at that. Perhaps such generosity had swayed the village to commit twelve men to his cause?

They marched with the army now, ruddy faced under the sun and carrying whatever weapons they'd had to hand.

The royal party rode in stately silence, gazes fixed ahead to the destination they would discover as day melted into evening and they decided to make camp.

It was mid morning when a mounted party appeared on the horizon and Edward signalled for his forces to stop. Narrowing his eyes, he scanned the skyline for the flap of a banner, a flash of colour which would tell him who approached - whether they were friend or foe but there appeared to be no such thing. He turned to his Uncle.

"There have been no missives sent saying to expect mounted riders are there?"
Richard shook his head no. The men about him curled their hands around their daggers, craning their necks to get a better look.

"And it's not just men" Marie said, rising in her saddle to get a better look "I can see a hennin!" Constance frowned when she saw for herself her daughter was right. Who on earth could it possibly be?

"They cannot attack us" She pointed out "It seems they have only fifty men or so but why have they no banners?"
"They don't want us to know who they are" Richard replied and what other reason could there be? It meant they were a potential enemy.

"Edward" Constance murmured "Move behind your Uncle and I"
"I will not!" Her son replied sharply "I will not cower and-"

"Margaret!" Her cry cut his words clean away and his Mother's lips split into a smile. The female rider had trotted ahead of the rest and the close proximity revealed her to be none other than her dear friend Margaret Beaufort! Dear, pious Margaret! "It's Lady Margaret, Edward! We need not be afraid"

His shoulders relaxed somewhat and he gave a nod - one his sister did not share. Marie's eyes were narrowed, pointed past her Mother's lady and to the following party where two men rode at the helm, one older, a red beard streaked with grey, and the other younger - a spindly man with brown hair partially covered with a cap.

A flash of red alerted her to the red dragon sewed to their sleeves. She drew in a gasp.

"Arrest them!" Her cry had all head turning towards her and she thrust a finger forwards at the two men who'd slipped from her grasp months ago. Now she had them.

"What?" Constance cried.
"Arrest them! It is the Tudors, Edward, they must be taken!" The clamour of Burgundian armour signalled men readying to follow her blazing orders and they may have charged had Margaret (now only meters away) leapt from her saddle and sunk to her knees.

Edward's hand flew into the air.
"Stay your hand!"
"What?" Marie demanded.

"You heard me!" Her brother replied brusquely "Stay your damn hand, sister!" She pressed her lips together, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she watched her brother allow the threats closer and their leader to remain on her knees "Lady Margaret" His tone was softer as he addressed her and his sister's scoff did not go unnoticed "Please, rise, I have no wish for you to dirty your skirts on my account"

Lady Margaret rose and after a moment raised her head, swallowing. Constance thought she looked the same as ever, slim faced and sharp eyed, garbed in a blue gown. Despite her willowy figure she looked strong. The relief to see her so was sweet, though not surprising. Constance had long believed nothing could crush Lady Margaret Beaufort.

"My King" Margaret said then looked to her friend "Your graces. I humbly bring forth my son and brother in law before you today. Henry and Jasper Tudor" Her eyes found Marie's as the two men halted behind her "I bring them to you to to demonstrate they are no threat but loyal subjects to the crown and come hither to pledge to you their loyalty" Back to Constance.

"Once, long ago, I thought my son's destiny was to be King"

Marie choked on air at that, looking about her in bewilderment as if this were all one great joke. Her Mother held up a hand, giving a small shake of her head but did not look at her, eyes fixed on Margaret.

"and I would do anything to give him that destiny" She continued and then a small smile melted through her stern expression. Her hands clasped before her "but then....I found you" She said "I saw the Holy Spirit within your noble soul and, over time, I realised my son's desity was not to bear the crown....but to serve it. When the Princess Marie arranged an alliance with Brittany and my Henry and Jasper had to flee, it pushed them further towards England and I knew that here was where they must be, for the battle to come and so my Henry may serve the rightful King, your mighty son, Edward" She turned to him. He tilted up his chin, the suspicion in his expression waning a little "and we may all live in peace under his York sun. My King" She fell to her knees again, a supplicant to him, her tone almost pleading "I swear my life and fealty to you and to your house. As does my kin, though I need not speak for them, they will swear it with their own lips"

And with that, Jasper and Henry slipped from their saddles. Richard drove his horse forward a step or two, hand still on his sword, so he was beside the King - almost positioned defensively in front of him. He well remembered the trouble Jasper had caused his late Father and brother, how deep his Lancastrian loyalties ran. If one were to cut open his chest they would find a red rose blossoming from his heart, its thorns dug deep into muscled flesh.

And he stared straight back at Richard, tilting his head slightly. Richard's eyes narrowed - a warning. Try anything it said and the earth will run red with your blood. Jasper seemed to understand well enough and did not move from his spot.

Twenty seven year old Henry was the first to speak, his cap removed and mousey head bowed in submission. So this was the son Margaret had longed for so desperately, Constance thought.

While he was not much to look upon, she could sense the great adoration his Mother bore him even from her steed. It was more than love that filled the air around them, it was the feeling of hands clasped unyieldingly to a lifeline, squeezing so tight it almost snapped, a shipwrecked sailor clinging to a ragged piece of driftwood that could dissolve at any moment.

It was purpose.
It was life.
It was hope.
Survival. Raw and deep.

"I, Henry Tudor" Margaret's smile grew at his voice. Of course it did, she hadn't seen him for thirteen years - every strange note that passed his thin, cracked lips, was a blessing. His accent was an odd thing, a mix of French, Flemish and English. That's what you get when you spend your life scurrying around the continent "pledge my fealty to you, your grace, God's chosen King and promise to serve you faithfully from this day until my last"

Reaching for his sword (which had the King's kin grasping their own) he drew it forth from its scabbard, held it high in his hands, then lay it before him "My sword is yours, sire, as is my life"

Next was Jasper who watched the boy King with an unreadable expression. His nephew looked at him, Richard raised an eyebrow at him, sliding his dagger ever so slightly from its scabbard with his thumb.

At last, he nodded.

"My House is gone. Now, it is time for a new dawn in England. It is time for peace and plenty for all and why should I not help build such an Eden?" Bowing his head, he went onto one knee before a York King "I, Jasper Tudor, pledge my fealty to my rightful Lord and King, Edward the Fifth and promise to serve you faithfully from this day until my last. You have my sword, sire"

"And I see you've brought men with you?" Edward remarked, looking at the men who'd promptly followed their masters and mistress onto their knees.
"Fifty, your grace" Margaret answered "All sworn to your service"

"I see. I accept your service gratefully, my Lords, and with the assurance of your loyalty, when the battle is won, I shall return to Henry Tudor the Earldom of Richmond!"

Margaret's eyes grew wide and she looked up at him with an adoration equal to that which her knees had for chapel flagstones!

"My King!" She gasped, pressing a hand to her heart "You are most generous!"
"I reward loyalty and punish traitors" Edward answered "Stay at my side and you shall prosper, away from it you shall burn. I'll make sure you do. Please rise, Lady Margaret, your son and nephew too, and join my men. My Lord of Northumberland shall find a place for you. Cousin?"

"At once, your grace" John replied, steering his horse forward, looking as suspicious as Richard.
"And Lady Margaret?"
She beamed at him.
"Your grace?"
"Ride with my Lady Mother. You have been a loyal friend to her for many a year and I know she shall rejoice in your company once more!"

"Thank you, Edward!" Constance chuckled, grinning as Margaret trotted to her side and the two leant over in their saddles, holding one another firm in a tender embrace "Hello, my friend. We have been too long apart"

"We have! We have, my lady!" Margaret replied, wiping tears from her cheeks as she pulled away "Never could there be a more generous nor good a Prince as your son! What a fine man he is!" She leant in again, grasping Constance's hand, lowering her voice "And never as good and beloved a Queen as you! God is with your house - as am I and my kin!"

"Then will you join my household again? For I'm sure I'll fare much better with you at my side and I expect your son will now be oft at court!"
An eager nod met her words, a glow about Margaret that could almost be called youthful.
"I would like that more than anything, my friend!"

༻᯽༺

That night, Thirsk....

The York army filled the town of Thirsk and as darkness fell, Constance, Marie, Richard and Rob all gathered around a great table in the King's chamber, a last supper before Marie departed with her men the following morning. John had been invited to join them but he'd declined, insisting he keep an eye on the Tudor newcomers.

It had taken more than one pleading look (and an order) from Edward to prevent Richard doing the same. He sent Francis in his stead. Charles had gone too, declaring that despite his glaring red robes he was adept at staying in the shadows and above suspicion. Constance was rather tempted to join him (though she could not be less inconspicuous) for while she loved Margaret dearly, these men had never been of a Yorkist affinity. Her daughter was still rather irritated with their presence.

"You should keep an eye on them, lad" Richard said, tossing a chicken bone stripped of tender meat onto his plate "I know they professed their loyalty to you today and I do not doubt the heart of Lady Margaret but that of Jasper Tudor? His blood is as red as the Lancastrian rose and her son? Raised by him. There is no telling what he thinks of us or what he plans to do. We must, for now, assume the worst and tread with caution"

"I suppose I must keep an eye on all" Edward replied, taking a deep sip of wine, swirling the remaining liquid around his goblet "I can thank men for their loyalty, reward them for it, but no matter how steadfast they seem they very well may be sharpening a knife behind my back, their drawn blades glistening like their smiles"

He'd taken a little to melancholy that evening. His Mother suspected it was the hard days of travel and the wine. Still, his words were sensible enough, certainly so for a King.

"I'll wager you all learnt that from Warwick, didn't you?"

"We leant much from him" She replied softly, glancing at Richard who she found already staring at her, a twinge of unease in his eyes. She felt an inch on her back where her scars lay. "and your Uncle George. It is true, a King must always be cautious but take heed that that wise caution does not slip into paranoia" Richard hummed, reaching for another chicken leg.

"Did you hear what Lady Margaret said?" Marie crowed from beside her mother, halfway through her own "About her son being King? Ha! What a notion!" That brought a slow grin to her brother's face and he drained the last of his wine, placing his cup down with a chuckle.

"The musings of a girl with nothing in the world to cling to but hopeful fantasy" Constance said, though could not hide a smile herself.
"And a fantasy it certainly is!" He replied.
"You should tell it to your wife before you sleep one night!" Marie quipped "I'm sure she would much appreciate a bedtime story!"

She ducked just in time to avoid the chicken bone flying at her face.

"Oh shut up! If you don't wish for me to complain about her don't give me reason to!"
"At least she is intelligent" Richard said.
"And almost half his size" Murmured Marie. A flying carrot collided with her ear and she grinned "What?"

"You've had too much to drink, ma petite!" Constance laughed.
"And he hasn't! I'm surprised he's still sitting upright!"
"I'm our Father's son!"
"And I remember picking him up with George from a gutter he'd fallen in after too many ales!" Richard returned, raising his eyebrows as if challenging his nephew to throw something at him next!

"Throw a carrot at Dickon and I'll pour that pitcher over you!" Constance threatened, sending the table into fits of laughter, Edward throwing his head back with a merry roar.
"Well then I may have to arrest you for treason, ma Mére!" He replied, carding a hand through his hair.

"Arrest your Mother and I'll be going with her!" Richard declared, sending Marie into fits of giggles at the thought.
"And I!" She crowed.
"I might as well join!" Agreed Rob "We'll make quite the merry bunch of prisoners!"
"Francis will have to come to, he wouldn't want to be left behind!"
"Nor would either of our Johns" Constance added "And your brothers would quickly join us! So would mine! Soon you'd be the only person in Westminster, my love!"

"Then I'll have to come and join you!" He laughed "I'll lock the cell doors myself and the rooks can rule England!"

"No one will be ruling England but you!" His Mother returned, placing a hand atop his "We've waited long enough to see it and if I had my way you'd sit on your throne and never leave it!"
"That would make for some interesting heir-making" Hummed Marie and the table was flung into laughter again, except Edward who flushed a bright shade of crimson!

༻᯽༺

Despite the amber rays of dawn still yet to crack through the night sky, the air was warm and Constance found no need for a shawl as she stepped outside of the inn to bid farewell to her daughter who was to lead three thousand-six hundred troops to London.

Leaning against the doorframe, she stopped to observe her a moment. A few meters away, Marie petted her destrier, forehead against his snowy nose, a gloved hand stroking soothingly down his neck.

Her lips moved but her Mother could not hear the words that emerged from them. It suddenly struck her in that moment that Marie looked so much like she had done in her youth, dark hair coiled behind her head, ornate breastplate encasing her figure, features peaceful with her eyes closed. She looked almost as she had when she marched to Warwick Castle.

Her hand curled around her locket, thumb stroking the engraved front. If only Ned could see their daughter now. How proud he would be of the woman she'd become.

'She will make a great Queen' She thought 'Just as you wanted' She could almost feel Edward grin from heaven. And now she had to let her go. Not to battle (intentionally anyway) but it felt as if she were. The first child to be sent into the jaws of death. If she lost either her little love or her son she knew she would be the next to die.

"Mother?" Blinking, she found her daughter looking toward her and smiled, walking onto the cobbled road and Marie's side.
"You look very fine, my love" She praised, patting her grand steed's neck "Are you ready? All is prepared?" Marie nodded, said it was "Are you?"

"As much as I ever shall be, I believe" A faint smile crossed her lips and she turned back to her mount, fishing a small carrot from the purse at her belt "I have my men of England and Max's lands and Howard of course. I've always liked him. He makes me laugh but he's a serious head on his shoulders" The carrot crunched between the destrier's teeth, like maces crushing bone "And you?"

"I have been prepared for many moons" That was almost entirely true. She was prepared for war but not for failure, the loss of her son. She simultaneously tried to come to terms with it so she might serve him better and ignore it to the same end! The outcome was not very helpful. "We have to win, Marie" She murmured, staring at the uneven cobbles beneath her feet.

"I know" Marie's hand grasped hers. She raised her eyes "And we will!" It was the only thing they could say then. To mutter even a syllable of anything else was to invite doom upon the mission "You and God will see Edward ascend his rightful throne. I will not rest until it is done"

"Oh God...." Constance whispered as her face suddenly crumpled "I cannot bear to let you go" She pulled her daughter into her arms and held her tight, cradling the back of her head as if it would shield her from the world and their separation "My darling, my love" She sniffed. What if the bastard found out about their plan? What if he already knew? What if he marched to meet her, caught her unawares? What if he....

She shook her head, staring up at the changing sky "No....you will prevail, I know you will! We will!"

"I never doubted it!" Marie declared as she drew away and tilted up her chin either in bravery or to keep the tears in her eyes from escaping. Taking Constance's hand again, she squeezed it "It will be quite fun, you know, to hold a form of court at Westminster while I await your arrival! I shall get to play Queen for a bit! A taste of my future if you will!"

Her Mother chuckled - nodded. She had to be strong, be happy for her girl.
"A crown will suit you very well, my love! As it shall your brother and sisters. May your dear old Mother make a request of you?"
"Anything."
She took a breath, blinking furiously.

"Once you have secured London, go to Windsor, my love. Go to Edmund and little James and their brothers and sister and tell them their Mother is well, that I love them and their brother will triumph! Tell them I'm sorry I have been away so long and....go to your Father, say the farewells you should have had and give him my love. Say I will be with him soon, with our son, the one true King of England"

Her little love smiled then and squeezed her hand again. She had watched many of those babes come and go. She knew how much they meant to her Mother and in her heart never discounted them as her siblings simply because they had never taken a breath or very few short ones - never been cradled in her arms or called her 'sister'. She would be glad to visit them again and took comfort knowing their Father now cared for them despite wishing he cared for those living instead. 

"Yes, ma Mére"
Putting her free hand to her cheek, Constance leant forward, pressing her lips to her forehead once, twice, three times before pulling her into one more embrace. When they finally pulled apart, she smiled again.
"Godspeed to you, my little love"

"And to you, Mother. I will see you soon" She replied and Constance nodded, stepping back as she ascended the mounting block and swung gracefully into her saddle.

'Yes' She thought. They would see each other soon.

But how soon was soon?