~Battle Lines~

26th of August 1484, below Sutton Bank....

Since he'd mounted his horse that morning under a scorching sun, Edward had wished for nothing more than to be rid of his golden robes.

His shirt and braies clung uncomfortably to his skin, sticky with sweat and strands of fair hair, turned a dark gold stuck to his forehead. It seemed everyone else felt much the same. His kin mopped at their faces and skin with damp handkerchiefs, every so often looking up into the sky as if silently cursing the sun.

Edward knew he should probably be grateful for it. To have the young York King riding under his Father's emblem certainly made a spectacular image to gaze upon. If only it wasn't so bloody hot! The sun was probably shining down on Arthur too but oh well, he thought, it wouldn't be for much longer. May he burn while it did!

He glanced back at his little sisters who'd joined them the day before. Isabella, mounted on a palfrey, seemed to be faring well enough out of sheer determination, looking stonily onwards seemingly without a care for the beads of sweat on her forehead. Cecily was a little worse, her damp head resting against her elder sister's back, eyes screwed shut. Aliénor was riding in front of their Mother, her little body curled into Constance's front and completely hidden by the thin cloak that had been put over her.

Every so often a little hand would peek out, asking for the leather waterskin.

Sighing, he turned around with a grimace, damp collar rubbing against his neck, and looked to the sheer face of Sutton bank they were to ascend up a rather narrow passage in order to get to his Uncle's castle at Helmsley. All around were fields dotted here and there with trees, a sheep or two, and sun-scorched grass with only a few flecks of lively green.

The ground rose and fell a little but overall it was relatively flat and suddenly, an idea struck him. Looking to the bank then back to the surrounding land, he halted his steed and held up a hand, ordering his army to halt.

This, he thought, this could work and kicked his horse into a canter, flying from the beaten track and into the fields to the right of him. His eyes stared all about him, surveying the land, the stone of the cliff, its height and the openness of the fields. The more he looked the more he grinned, the more he could see his quickly formed idea come to fruition and pulled his horse to a halt in the center of a field.

Laughing quietly to himself, his fingers reached for the front of his doublet and he tugged it open a little, relishing the cooler air that touched his skin at last.

"Are you well, your grace?"
For once the title didn't irritate him. He turned with a grin to his Uncle as he rode up to him, a small frown on his heat flushed face.
"Of course, Uncle! In fact, I find myself quite taken with this land!"
He could practically feel Richard's frown deepen which only made him giddier.

"Well yes, it is very beautiful but why-"
"Just look!" He ordered "Look at the land, Uncle! Flat enough and clear of woodland, solid earth. Here." He said "This is where we will fight our battle. The ground is good, the bank to our advantage. There is little place to hide but we can use that to our advantage too when we rout them. What say you?"

Turning to his Uncle, his roaring laugh filled the air at the sight of his almost dumbfounded expression, one that then melted into a look of pride Edward fought not to colour under.

"It is good ground as you say - a few weaknesses but there is no battleground that doesn't have them. Battle is never safe or certain. This. This is good. You've chosen wisely. I'll have men stationed at the top of the bank, they will keep watch for us"

Now he was fighting not to preen.
"So it is here the bastard will die and my reign will truly begin!" He declared, gazing over the land, at which Richard's small frown returned.

"It has already begun, Edward" He told him firmly "It began the day your Father died"
"It was meant to" Edward returned, looking at him again, the excitement in his chest a little dulled "But it did not. I spent a year in exile while Arthur ruled here. Just as mad Henry did when my Father was in Burgundy...."

"No. Henry was once an anointed King. The bastard is nothing but a pretender. He has never been King and the records shall show you have been King of England since the day my brother passed into God's hands. We will be adamant in that. You may not have been in your land but you held court in Burgundy, signed documents as the King of England, made alliances as the King of England, wore your Father's crown and were hailed as his successor"

While his Uncle's words meant a lot and perhaps he spoke true (as he always tried his upmost to) Edward merely sighed and looked out at the fields again. He wanted to believe him but who else would? Who else would say with confidence his reign began the day of his Father's death and not Arthur's who had been crowned mere weeks afterwards. He may be a usurper, his reign illegitimate, but would all deny wholeheartedly he had never ruled England, even falsely?

What would the future say?

It was one of his greatest doubts and his greatest fears - that he would forever have to live with the stain of Arthur's 'reign' on his own.

"It angers me" He muttered "The time he's made me lose, the happiness he has stripped from my family" Rolling back his shoulders, his teeth ground together as his lips curled into a hateful sneer. He turned to Richard once more "I'm going to do more than kill Arthur" He said "I'm going to erase him. And his little brother"

And then he looked back to the road where his sisters and Mother awaited and his lips split into a smile once more. Reaching out, he clapped his Uncle merrily on the back "Onto your castle at Helmsley then, Uncle Dickon!"

Richard could only follow as he rode back to their family.

༻᯽༺

2nd of September, 1484, Reivaulx Abbey, near Helmsley....

Not only was there joy in the end of travel at last, the solidifying of plans, but also that night when a force of three hundred arrived at the castle gates. John de la Pole, Duke of Suffolk, his eldest son (and namesake) and his duchess, sweet Elizabeth.

While tired and a little worn from the hard ride she'd taken with her menfolk, her smile was just as bright and her embrace as warm as Constance remembered when they embraced.

Now, they walked arm in arm about the courtyard of Reivaulx Abbey's beautiful cloisters, Margaret a few paces in front holding Aliénor and Cecily's hands, Isabella behind, rolling daisies between her fingers, her face upturned towards the sun. It was likely she was praying instead of enjoying its warmth for news had come just the day before that Woodville forces were nearing.

As such Constance had ordered the journey to the abbey that day (on Margaret's advice) to pay for prayers for a York victory and souls of the King, his allies and kin. What harm could it do, Constance thought as they strolled along, if God was sitting above in the heavens he may hear their prayers and aid her son in his victory. If not, it would be his men and she that delivered him to his throne.

When news came the Woodvilles approached, they would head to Sutton Bank and make their camp there, lying in wait for their enemies. Oh how proud she was of her son for choosing the site! How proud! And rather grateful too for it would certainly make his men sit up and take note of his mind!

They would use the time they had to craft the best strategy, defend the best position, they would do all they could to gain the upper hand and then the battle would come and they would strike, on horseback and on foot, with blade and with fist.

"Margaret? Would you take the girls to prayer?"
"Will you not join us, Con?" Margaret replied with a coaxing smile.
"In a while. I wish to speak to Beth."
Elizabeth's hand affectionately squeezed her arm and with a content nod, Margaret led her daughters away, calling for Isabella to join them which the eldest girl did, blindly fiddling with her belt to free the rosary hanging from it.

"Mayhap we should take shelter from the sun?" Beth said and with Constance's nod of agreement, led them inside to the cool cloisters and sat upon the cool benches of stone beneath the great stone arches "Why did you not go with them?" Constance smoothed out her skirts.

"I wished to speak to you. It has been a long while since we were able to speak alone."
"You could speak to me after" Her fidgeting hands were taken firmly by her friend "Your son is to go to battle, Connie. I know you. In any other world you would be upon your knees at this moment before God praying for his soul and victory." She didn't look up from where her gaze was fixed on the dusty hem of her gown.

"In any other world my son would be at Ludlow and my husband would be alive." 'And I would not be fucking his brother' She thought, sighing. Beth only persisted, shuffling closer to her, pillar behind casting a shadow across her pale skin.

"Before Ned died you prayed well and often. Morning, noon, night, attended faithfully to all the canonical hours. In the whole week I've been here you've not prayed once. Not once. You sit with that locket between your fingers and think and that's the closest you've come."

Constance sighed again.

What would be the point in lying to her sister?

"I don't pray anymore. Not since...." Tears pricked her eyes and she swallowed heavily "since James died." Jamie. Poor, brave Jamie. She'd had little room in her mind to mourn him, it would have to be done when she returned to London, just as it was with Ned. She didn't want to. She missed him. She missed him terribly. And to mourn him would be to admit he was gone. Her little brother was gone.

The only sibling she'd truly knew.
The only sibling she'd truly loved.
And had loved her.

"Edward's death shattered my heart and my soul and Jamie's took what was left of my faith. Then the bastard was crowned. So much was taken from me in so little time when I had already lost much and more. And I thought, how can our Lord be real? How can he be real if he allows such things to happen? And if he is, why would I worship one that allowed my life to be destroyed when I had devoted it to him?"

"And you believe so still?"

"I am slowly regaining my faith." She looked up with a wry smile "I hope that Edward is in heaven, that Jamie is too, with my lost babes and they know no more pain or suffering, that they only know joy. I wish for my son to see victory, for the house of York to be restored to its rightful place and England to be at peace. I do everything in my power to ensure the safety of my children. Today I will give the money in my purse to pay for masses to be held for their souls and mine. But I am yet to pray."

"Perhaps you should." Beth said.
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. I will get there but not today. Today I will have to count upon the prayers of my daughters and Margaret. You too if I have them." Beth smiled, tilting her head.
"You know you do." She said and gave Constance's hand a firm squeeze.

"And now we must speak of you. I have heard little on how you managed to escape your captivity and am eager to!"
Beth chuckled, grinning.
"Much as you did! When news of your uprising at Middleham came it set the sparks that had been flying beneath our roof into roaring flames! We were emboldened, those loyal to us were emboldened and when we broke free many were eager to join us!"

That summoned a smile to Constance's own lips and she rose, brushing down her skirts and extending an arm to Beth, helping her to her feet. The cool and quiet of the cloisters surrounding them, they began to stroll about the square complex. How glad she was to have her sister with her again, safe and strong.

"What of your children?" She asked "Are they well? Your eldest son seems strong as his father!"
"They are all well!" Beth replied and the relief in her voice was palpable. Constance knew exactly how she'd felt, how much she'd feared for her babes "As are Maggie and Teddy. We brought them all north with us and they are safe at York. You'll know dear Lizzy was allowed to leave us when her husband died. A small mercy. Have you had word from her?"

She said she had not.
"Though brother in law raised a force of six hundred for us with Sir Robert Percy. They met Edward when he landed, it was quite the shock I am told!"
"But a pleasant one?"
"He made his first speech! I wish I could've seen it! From what John Neville said he was the very image of his father!"

"He's always the image of his father!" Beth returned and she knew she was right, every time someone laid eyes on him it was hard to believe he was not the young ghost of the late king.

"I am glad of that" Constance told her, raising her free hand and brushing it against the golden broach on her bodice. A gift from her son given the night before. She smiled "It helps make men respect him and his wits ensure that respect. My God I know you needed rest but I wish you'd seen the moment when he presented his plan for the battleground to his commanders! I was so proud, he stood so tall, spoke so clearly. You should've seen their faces!" She sighed gleefully, seeing each of their surprised expressions before them, ones that melted to reverence in the candlelight.

"He will win, Beth," She said "he will win and all of Christendom will speak his name with love and admiration."

༻᯽༺

Looking out at the great hall from her seat upon the dais, Constance's foot tapped beneath the table to the lively beat of the saltarello. In the centre of the hall, couples danced, smiling while they hopped from foot to foot.

The feast had been arranged by herself and her son, a last display of joy to rally the spirits of his men before the fighting began with fine wine, vigorous dances and the faces of pretty women - the wives and daughters of local lords and knights that had been invited to attend. With the condition they brought men to fight for their king!

The chamber was alive with laughter and the clink of knives and spoons against plates filled to the edges with food slathered in an array of rich sauces. In the centre of the dancing was Edward, his hands intertwined with those of a knight's daughter. Twice he'd danced with her and it was clear he thought her beautiful but who could not?

Her skin was pale as moonlight and hair as golden as the sun, flowing down her back from beneath her velvet hennin. Constance thought she'd heard her father call her Joan but she couldn't be sure and she did not care much. What mattered was the smile on her son's face, the deep laugh that rumbled from his throat every so often as they conversed, moving about one another with ease.

Further along the table, John nudged Richard.
"See here," He grinned, nodding toward Edward and his pretty partner "I think our boy may have found his first conquest!"

"Don't tell his mother that," Richard replied, sat back in his chair and fiddling absentmindedly with his rings. A smirk tugged at his lips "I think she'd swoon!"
"It would be good for his spirits before battle for certes. Add fuel to the fire."
"Indeed but on the other hand it may not be a fine idea to take the maidenhead of one of his supporters daughters. Should we warn him?"

John tossed his knife back onto his cleared plate.
"Nay, leave the lad be, Dickon, he's not stupid nor does he need coddling. Particularly now. Let him dance and wink and touch her if he wishes" He shrugged, reached for another strawberry tart "He can steal a kiss later and perhaps a little more. If he wants to dip his wick we can find a girl for him."

Richard hummed his agreement. It could be done easily. But so could lying with a pretty girl already in his grasp.

"Lust can be quite the persuader, cousin."
"We know it well."
"Ned never seemed to realise."
"We know that too" John returned, abandoning his tart to indulge in the amusement spreading across his face as he watched his cousin "His son is shrewder" He said "How could he not be? He was raised by you." With a playful prod to the arm, Richard finally looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

"If I think our king is wandering onto the same path tonight, then I'll warn him." John shrugged again and mirrored his position, sitting back in his chair.

"I think he's already warned himself" He said and carded a hand through his hair "The bastard and is at the forefront of his mind night and day. As is how he came about. However captivating he may find the girl or want her, he won't forget himself. He's stalwart in his goals and his anger is too great."

With the end of the song both men's gazes fell upon Edward again and watched him applaud, strong hands coming together, then reaching down to raise his partner from her curtsy, mouth spread in a wide smile. How long would it be until they saw it again? One of such joy?

What he would give to see Constance smile like that, Richard thought then looked at her, past John. Perhaps he could?

"Hm. Keep an eye on him John."
"Why, where are you-"
He pushed back his chair, standing. As the couples mingled and men went to congratulate the king on his grace and skill, undoubtedly seeking favour though their compliments were no lie, Richard went to Constance's side and held out his hand.

She looked up.
"Dance with me."
Surprise blossomed on her face.
"Really?" She asked looking about at the crowded room.
"Everyone else is. Why not us?"

A smile pulled at her lips and she took his hand, letting herself be raised from his seat and descended from the dais, all descending into bows and curtsies as she passed.

"Ah, so you've come to join us, Lady Mother?" Edward called jovially.

"Mayhap it is time you danced with another girl now, my love." She murmured into his ear when she reached him, raising an eyebrow and pressing a kiss to his cheek "Fetch Isabella before she is sent to bed." The look he sent her was one of mild irritation but he inclined his head all the same before turning back to the Joan girl with a smile.

"It has been an honour, madam." He said and he winked, making the girl before him blush to heatedly Constance thought she would explode! So he was his father's son in every way. God help her if that meant he was lead into very same folly he'd word off for life!

"Don't worry" She turned to Richard who was watching her expression with a grin "As John said moments ago, he's not stupid. He knows his duty and he knows danger. A flirt or two will do him no harm - do us no harm." She could only nod, watching as her son went to fetch his sister and returned with her to the floor.

Her daughter's cheeks were rosy and eyes bright, already having danced with a number of men that night. She was garnering much admiration it seemed but that was hardly surprising her mother supposed, wrapping the veil of her hennin about her arm in preparation to dance, not only was she royal, her face promised great beauty that was beginning to blossom. No doubt she would capture hearts in the following years.

"Lady Mother, Uncle Dickon!" She greeted when they glided by and when they'd taken their places the musicians struck up a basse.

Richard's hand was warm in Constance's and she couldn't help the happiness that ran through her at the contact. There was so little time to talk during the journey, so many other things to think of and certainly no time for holding hands or linking arms - being close to one another. Nor would it have been wise to attempt to had they found a friendly moment.

It seemed to please him too for as they danced gracefully up and down the hall; he led her about him in a delicate circle, he could not take his eyes from her, watching as if she were all the stars in the sky and he was determined to look upon their beauty for as long as possible before dawn came again.

"Stop staring" She chuckled when she passed him and his smile grew.
"I can't help it. You're very beautiful." She shook her head, they were lucky they had the music and chatter of the hall to cover their words, however quiet they were. She squeezed his hand.

"And you very handsome" She passed him again "if a little too serious. Smile Dickon! I wish to see you smile!" And smile he did, making her laugh which made him smile more! They parted for a moment, spun, and then were joined once more, stepping to the sides of each other, all the while their gazes never wavering from each other's eyes "I hope to see that smile often when we win." She said.

"And I yours." He replied.