~The Boy in the Barn~

Margery Paston was a sweet girl of thirteen, her smile as dazzling as her heart was pure. Her eyes were always bright with curiosity, despite their dark shade of heavenly brown, ever peering behind doors or into secret passageways long forgotten by most! She went about with a grin on her lips, her voice weaving a hum throughout the air like the pretty ribbons she loved to thread through her dark auburn hair.

The second to youngest of seven, she was used to being rather overlooked within the family home, left to her own devices and imagination. And so to say she was glad when her late Great Aunt Agnes had nominated her for the place in the household of a Royal Duchess was nothing short of an understatement!

While some so young may have found it daunting, leaving their home, Margery had found naught but excitement and adventure in the proposition! Perhaps she would become a true lady in time, she often wondered, after all, that was what her family wanted most.

To climb high.

With her family's steward, Richard Calle, she had trotted merrily along the roads of England, smelling the sweet air of the North and relishing the sun. She looked forward to meeting the new Duchess, the little girl whom the land had heard so much about but truly knew little of. The Duchess was an enigmatic riddle shrouded in mystery and Margery could not wait to have that mystery solved!

She arrived at Middleham the night the Duke and Duchess had and was the one to wake Catherine the next morning, drawing back the heavy curtains to the window with all the bright enthusiasm she could muster.

"Good morning, your grace!"

She turned around, only to see her new Lady bolt up from the covers, a dazed expression on her face as she looked to the empty space beside her.
"W....where is my Lord husband?"

"At his training, your grace!" Margery replied brightly, immediately taking to studying the little blonde haired beauty that stared at her rather curiously. She smiled, clasping her hands in front of her and almost chuckling when the Duchess gave a small gasp.

"Agnes?" She exclaimed and Margery shook her head.
"Margery" She corrected with an practiced curtsy. "Margery Paston, your grace, here to be your Lady in waiting!" At once, Catherine's face lit up and she flung back the covers of her bed, not bothering to reach for her robe as she strode towards the new girl and took her into a firm embrace.

"I have been waiting for you, Margery!" She murmured warmly, smiling when her new lady returned the embrace as enthusiastically as she "It is my hope that we shall be firm friends, just as I was with your late Aunt!"

"That is my hope too!" Margery replied with a wide grin when Catherine pulled away, already fond of the younger girl who appeared noble even in her nightgown! Yes, they would be friends, she could already tell and was glad of it too.

To have an ally in her new adventure would prove a blessing indeed, particularly one so high in the English nobility!

Waltzing away, Catherine could feel relief blossoming within her heart. The fear she had felt when woken to find her husband gone had near set her head reeling but Margery had soothed that within moments! She possessed Agnes' inviting smile, that much was clear, her heart too, it seemed, that was nothing but kind and the young Duchess felt herself relax into her body.

To have Margery almost felt the same as to have Agnes, and with Agnes by her side, she had always been sure she could conquer any mountain she faced. With her niece, she prayed it would be the same!

Besides, Margery had one thing that Agnes never had done. Youth. Youth that meant she could ride with Catherine, run with Catherine, hunt and chat without tiering and yet, as the Duchess looked at her new Lady, she did wonder if she knew how to do those things!

The Gown she wore was plain, a simple blue linen with red roses embroidered upon the hem. Nothing else adorned it, no girdle, no jewels lay upon her neck or fingers and it became quite apparent that Margery was not from the noblest of blood.

Catherine smiled, sinking down onto her bed and patting the mattress, a signal for the older girl to join her. She did so gladly, folding her hands in her lap while a kind smile flitted about her lips.
"You are not a Lady, are you?"

Margery chuckled, shaking her head, seemingly holding no qualms about her lack of title or rank.
"No!" She admitted freely "But I know my Aunt was one, as fine a Lady as was ever seen and I also know that to serve you I must be the same!"

Catherine nodded, only then pulling on her robe to pad over to the unopened coffers, lying to one side of the great bedchamber.

"Come, stand beside me, Margery" Once again, the girl obeyed and was by the Duchess's side in moments, watching with excited curiosity as she opened the first of the coffers and an array of silks and satins were revealed "Hm....you are older but you are the same size as me, more or less" Catherine continued, looking her new Lady up and down approvingly "We may have to expand the chest since you are more" She paused slightly and Margery blushed.

"Developed?" She offered.

"Indeed! Developed, but that is of no matter! You must remember that you are a part of the Gloucester household now and my chief Lady! You must appear the part and that demands gowns and jewels!" Looking back to the open coffer, the young Duchess pulled out a light blue gown with pearl beading across the bodice; brushed a hand across the fine silk "You may have two of mine until I have your own made" She decided, handing the gown over to the now stunned Margery who had never in her life expected to wear such finery!

When a second one, a deep sage green was handed to her, along with a silk shift, she all but burst with joy, feeling the urge to embrace the Duchess all over again in thanks for her generosity. But, she halted herself, reserving her actions to an array of gracious words and a deep curtsy that made her Lady smile approvingly.

So this was Catherine Percy? The young Neville captive turned Royal Duchess who some said to be no less than an empty shell of a person! She was gracious, she was warm and seemed a most gracious Lady to serve! Any would be lucky to, Margery thought, sinking down into another curtsy before she left to change into her new garments, again proclaiming her thanks.

꧁꧂

Almost like a small child fearful of being caught for stealing a sweat meat from the kitchen, Catherine slunk along the walls of Middleham Castle, pressing herself to the stone. Under the heated glare of the sun, she held up a hand to shield her eyes but still kept her gaze focused, alert, just in case the man she feared most happened to come strolling around one corner or another.

The very thought made her want to faint with nerves.

Margery had dressed her with efficient precision, easily proving that if she knew little of nobility, she knew much about the preparation of it! The green gown she wore, enhanced her good looks, matching nicely with her auburn hair which lay in two twists over her shoulders. She had styled Catherine's hair similarly, weaving pink ribbons through it to match her gown before placing a string of polished pearls around her neck.

The Duchess had then dismissed her with a gentle wave of her hand, taking to waiting within her chambers alone. While the arrival of a relative of Agnes had proved to set her at ease a little, she was still not fond of the idea of venturing out of her room alone! She could not do it without Dickon!

But he had not come for her. For three hours she paced about her chambers, stared out of the window and listened to the constant clash of metal against metal that echoed from the nearby tiltyard. It had soon  become too much, too much for the fragility of her mind to take. She could not bare the clanging of the swords, the laughing cries of the squires as they trained and....and her loneliness.

It was too akin to her months trapped within the Far Tower. Too alike the torture of the mind she had suffered and so her body had forced her to leave, her feet moving of their own volition through the castle until she was outside. She breathed in the warm air as she rushed out into the daylight, hopping down the castle steps until her feet stood upon the hard courtyard stone.

The sound of swords clashing still filled the air but she could move freely now and made use of her freedom. Still, her nerves would not leave her.

Timid and alert, she made her way along the great castle walls, watching the servants with nervous eyes. The curtsied and bowed to her, wolfhounds and greyhounds trotting by their sides on leather leashes but Catherine merely nodded at them. She continued on her way, making her way to the gatehouse where the drawbridge lay open; almost inviting.

A soft breeze blew in the air, carrying the sweet scents of the honeysuckle and other blossoms which covered the fields surrounding the castle and village. She wondered if she would be allowed across, if she would be held or let free....

The whinny of the horses called to her and her attention was suddenly diverted to the side where the stable block lay. She recalled the horses at Haddon Manor with a great fondness, their soft coats and manes, the brays of Buttercup and Florence each time she entered their home. Picking up her skirts, she wandered towards the stables, stepping through the open door and inhaling the scent of warm hay.

A small smile brushed her lips.

Along the wall of wooden blocks where the grand steeds were kept, an array of horse's heads peeked out, their noses flaring with curiosity at the sight of a new face. Catherine's smile grew and she stepped forth to the nearest stable, gazing at the dapple mare that greeted her.

"Hello there, dear one"

Reaching up, she brushed the mare's nose with ease, letting her hand wander across the animal's fine face and down her neck, relishing the softness. The horse whinnied her appreciation, nuzzling closer to Catherine's shoulder which made the young girl giggle.

"My, you are a pleasant little thing are you not?" A second whinny answered her and the mare tossed her head, her ears twisting, alert, at the sound of a muffled cry that came from above. Catherine heard it too and looked up sharply at the sound, frowning at the shuffling that came from the hayloft over head.

The mare stamped her foot and the young girl gently shushed her, brushing a hand down her neck. A few moments later, another small sound emerged, one that resembled a sob and Catherine glanced to the narrow ladder that led to the level above, only to see a few strands of golden hay float down to the dusty floor.

Her curiosity roused, she bid goodbye to her new friend and once more picked up her skirts. Taking care to be silent as she tiptoed to the ladder, she gazed up into the chamber that could be seen through a small square in the wooden floor. A third small cry filtered to her ears and, with an ounce of doubt, she began to ascend the ladder.

Step after step she went, her girlish inquisitiveness helping her along the wooden rungs until her head peaked above the chamber floor. All around lay piles of golden hay, stacked high to the thatched ceiling that smelt pleasantly of summer. There was no sign of life that she could see but it was not long before another sob echoed to her ears.

"Hello?"

A small gasp and shuffling answered her, the noise of a child moving behind a pile of hay that hid them.

"Hello?" Catherine called again, climbing the last of the ladder so that she stood amongst the hay strewn across the floor. Brushing her twisted braids behind her shoulders she advanced towards where the muffled sounds echoed from. In her mind, she prayed to God it was not Warwick (not that she imagined it would be) or any other Neville rat she was yet to meet, an encounter with another of her enemies was the last thing she needed.

But she found, as she peered around the pile of hay stacked in one far corner, she had nothing to fear.

For it was just a boy.

A small, golden haired boy, clearly younger than she, and sobbing into his breeches as if the sun would never rise again. It was not hard for Catherine to guess how he felt, for with his knees drawn up to his chest and his sobs so desperate, he reminded her of herself and her heart was swayed to pity.

Taking her time so she did not startle him, she gathered her skirts and knelt beside the crying boy.
"Who are you?"

The boy looked up, his cheeks flushed with colour and his blue eyes turned puffy by tears. He sniffed slightly, shoulders heaving as he tried in vain to wipe the steaks of salty water from his cheeks with the cuff of his shirt. Catherine's heart ached and she fished the handkerchief from her sleeve, gently drying his tears.

He watched her warily, a certain fear in his eyes that she had no trouble understanding. It was a look she held whenever she feared she was to be made fun of and she wanted to set that immediately to rest "I am not here to mock you" She told him gently and the young boy seemed to relax somewhat, resting his small body against the hay that surrounded them "Now, tell me, who are you?"

The boy sniffed again, hiccuping through his sobs.
"Francis Lovell.....my Lady"

Catherine gawked, her mouth forming a surprised O of surprised that she knew well mirrored her feelings.
"Lovell? But the Lovells are...."
"Lancastrian" Francis finished pitifully, shaking his head "The other squires know it too and th....they won't talk to me" He hiccuped a second time "Or play with me....they think I am a traitor but I'm not! I swear I'm not!"

He spoke in earnest, an urgency to his voice that made it apparent he suspected her of treating him the same, now he had revealed his family allegiance.
"I am Catherine Percy" She said quickly "Daughter of the Earl of Northumberland!" Now it was Francis' turn to gawk and gawk he did, trying to scramble to his feet so he could give a respectful bow but his trembling body would not allow it.

"My Lady" He breathed instead, in awe, bowing his golden head "I did not know...."

"You did not need to know, Francis. But you know now. My family is for Lancaster and...." And so am I, she would have said, but something stopped her.... something she had never felt before. It was like a rock upon her heart, crushing the belief she felt to strongly and she grimaced at the discomfort "And I know how you feel" She said instead "I know how it feels to be alone and unloved here. To be made to feel you are worth nothing simply because of who your family fights for"

"My Father is dead and now I am a ward of the Earl of Warwick" Francis sniffed "I am nothing more than an asset to him....I know it!"
"In that we are the same" Catherine replied gently, encircling his shoulders with an arm "My Father is dead too. We are both assets you and I, and that is why we are here"

Young Francis' face suddenly seemed to light with hope and he hiccuped again, his young face peering up to hers.

"Then....then will you be my friend, my Lady?"
"Cat" She told him gently "My friends do call me Cat"

The sad boy smiled for the first time, testing the name twice on his lips before he allowed the older girl to guide him to his feet. 'He is so young' She thought, looking at his slender frame and innocent eyes. He did not deserve the cruelty that had evidently been thrust upon him.

"I will speak to my husband" She decided aloud for if anyone could sway the other squires minds she was sure Dickon could. Dickon with his wife and kinship to the King! Even the older boys were likely to follow where he led if they did not already!
"Your husband?" Francis repeated as they made their way towards the ladder and Catherine nodded.
"Aye, the Duke of Gloucester. Brother to the King"

A loud gasp filled the air, one that revealed Francis to apparently be the only person in England who had not heard of the York-Percy alliance. She could only smile, sliding down the ladder with ease and hoping her gown had not been marked by the hay. Francis was close behind, jaw slackened once more at the revelation that made him bow to her as soon as his feet his the stable floor.

"Your grace, I did not know...."

"You are the only one that doesn't!" She joked, linking his arm with hers and leading them out into the sun with a confidence she did not know she possessed "But it does not alter the fact that we shall be friends, Francis! And, as I said, call me Cat!"

"Cat!" He repeated enthusiastically, coaxing a smile from her as they rounded the corner of Middleham's vast stone keep into the view of the tiltyard; a long stretch of dusty ground surrounded by a wooden fence, holding jousting lanes where squires practiced their might upon horse back. It also boasted a small arena where the clashes of swords and mace echoed morning and night, just as they were doing then.

Most of the boys wore chainmail over padded doublets, the metal heavy upon their shoulders but needing to be so their young bodies would grow used to the weight they would carry into battle. The eight or nine noble boys that were under the Earl of Warwick's guardianship came in a variety of ages, ranging from young Francis at nine to the older boys like George, who seemed around sixteen; their muscles almost fully formed and their manners perfect to charm various serving girls into their beds.

Francis watched them all nervously but Catherine payed the boys no heed, striding past them to the arena where she could see the dark head of her husband ducking and dodging amongst his peers.

That was one of the first times she saw him truly smile, her serious husband of eleven.

Cuts marked his cheeks and jaw, sweat beaded on his forehead but his smile was one his wife wagered not even angels could match! He held a sword in one hand, a shield in the other and faced his opponent with bravery, standing as tall as his height would allow. The boy opposite him was older, taller by six inches at least but Dickon did not appear to care! He seemed to relish the challenge, taking each blow he suffered and struck with a new enthusiasm.

He looked at home there, amongst the dust and dirt, but that was only natural, Catherine supposed. It was, after all, his dream to mirror the knights that starred in his stories.

When he saw he approach the fence he raised a hand to wave, the sword he held glistening in the sunlight. Nodding easily to his opponent, he jogged over, laying down his shield by his feet and smiling at his wife who could not help but smile back.
"How now, wife, tis good to see you out!"
"It feels good, my Lord" She admitted a little sheepishly "The sun does me well I find!"

Dickon nodded his agreement, well aware of the states that his peers now cast his way at the sight of his new wife. He simply chuckled to himself, only then spotting the blonde boy that stood beside her, almost trying to shrink back into her small shadow.

"Francis Lovell, your grace" The boy squeaked before Dickon had even asked and Catherine pulled him forth, watching him bow before she presented her case.

"I want you to take young Francis here under your wing" She instructed, lowering her voice when she saw the others craning their necks to listen "He is ignored by the other squires for his family loyalty. He is alone, Dickon, just as I was and I want you to protect him, like you have protected me" She spoke candidly and her husband listened to her words with his usual stern expression returning to his face, one that told of attention and thought.

It meant he was considering her request.

He looked little Francis up and down before observing the boys around him, some of which he had known his whole life! While he knew their kindness and fierce loyalty, he also knew their cruelty to outsiders, those they viewed not worthy of letting into their clan and, gazing upon Francis, he could easily see why he had not been accepted.

Jerking his head a little, he motioned for Francis to hop over the fence, grinning at the boy's nimble steps that had him standing on the other side of the wood in less than a second. Without a word, Dickon put his arm around his shoulders, not needing a proclamation for the others to know that the boy now had the protection of the King's brother. An adversary not to be crossed, not only for his station but for his judgement too which always proved to be true.

"Come, Francis" The young Duke said, taking a moment to smile at his young wife who beamed back in reply "Let me show you how to hold a sword!"

Catherine giggled as they walked away, a warmth blossoming within her heart at her completed task. She had managed to right a wrong despite her own fears and felt glad for doing so; proud even.

"Long time, no see, cousin"

Her head suddenly jerked to the side, her eyes widening as she saw the boy Dickon had been fighting saunter up to her. From where he had previously stood she had not been able to see his face but now....now she could see he was all but a dark haired version of her own dear brother! Albeit a little more cocky. Still, Catherine recognised the older boy and could not help but smile at him.

"Hello there, Rob"
"Cousin!" Rob greeted again, sweeping a comical bow that had her smile turn to a grin.

Robert Percy, yet another member of her family's ever expansive bloodline but one who's Father had fought stoutly for York. Her own Father had always called him a traitor and never allowed him to step foot within Alnwick's walls but his young son Robert he could never deny. Especially since Henry had been so fond of him!

Catherine could remember Rob and her brother playing amongst the rose bushes the Autumn before she had first gone to court. He was a year younger than Henry but the two Percy boys had gotten along with one another just fine and so had Catherine who took joy in joining in their games of dragons and knights! It had been almost six years since she had seen him last but that part of her memory had not yet failed her and upon seeing her face, the memories she held were revived fully.

If anyone would be her ally her, it was he, she was sure and as he reached out to clasp her shoulder in his firm grip she could see the twinkle in his eye that told her she would be safe.

"It is good to see you again, Catherine"