~Trial and Treatment~

5th of August, 1484....

Constance's eyes had long since fluttered closed as Martha drew the ivory comb through her hair, a long ritual she indulged in morning and evening. The sun had almost risen fully in the sky and yet she found herself close to sleep the feeling of the teeth upon her scalp was so relaxing.

"Here, your grace" Said the voice of Alice as a hand gently lifted her right one and cool metal was slid onto her fingers. The same was then done to the left.
"Thank you, Alice" Constance murmured, turning her wrists to their undersides to the beaded bracelets she had chosen the previous night could be tied onto her wrists with their pretty ribbons of purple velvet that matched her gown.

With an urgent haste the door suddenly banged opened and Constance's eyes snapped open, head snapping around to see Cecily running toward her. She need not worry, she decided, the girl was smiling "My love! What is this?" She asked as she caught her daughter in her arms, hair spilling over her shoulders.

"You must come!" Cecily said, immediately reaching for her hand to try and tug her to her feet "Uncle Richard has called a meeting and he says you must come! There is news!"
"News?" She stood, Cecily began pulling her to the door "What news, my love?"
"I do not know! But you must come!"

"Your grace, you are not ready!" Martha called, comb still in hand but it would be no use trying to break free from Cecily when she was so enthused, Constance knew that! The eleven year old was tugging with all her might, cheeks flushed from running, and she would not be denied!

"It is of no matter!" She called over her shoulder as she was pulled from the room "I am not venturing from the castle!" But still Alice chased after her, a hastily found silver circlet in hand and quickly pushed it onto her head, nodding to herself once the task was done.

"We still wish for you to look regal, milady!" She replied and Constance's laugh reverberated throughout the corridors, prompting a giggle of Cecily's.
"You should wear your hair loose more often, ma mére" She said airily, though she kept her gaze firmly ahead "It looks so pretty! It should be the men that wear the headdresses, their hair is horribly short!"

"The men!" Constance crowed. Why, the thought of men wearing their butterfly hennins, their hands getting caught in the long veils when they tried to draw their swords, wrapping it around their bewildered faces! "Well that certainly would be a sight, my love!" They would prove utterly useless! Aside from birth, headdresses were certainly one thing only women could handle.

Cecily did not relent her steadfast pace through numerous corridors and out of the keep, across the battlements, up winding stairs until they reached the solar where Richard had told Cecily to bring her. There was likely a quicker way, in fact Constance knew there was, there was no reason to step out of the keep like they'd done but she said naught, a small smile on her face as she watched her girl.

Inside the square solar, complete with an unlit heart and two glass windows at the far end, pushed open to cool the almost stifling heat of the mid-morning; a dark oak table in the centre around which stood Richard, Edward, Marie, both of her brothers, John Howard, young Henry Scrope, Francis and Rob. They bowed. Her lover's eyes instantly found hers, shining with affection, but before he could utter one word of greeting, her son stepped forth, his young face brightening when he saw her.

"Mother!" He exclaimed, leaving his place to stride towards her, proffering a bow of his own and placing a kiss to her hand "Be welcome"
"Thank you, my son" She sank into a small curtsy "my King"

"I brought her, Uncle!" Cecily crowed, keeping a firm grip on her Mother's hand and twisting back and forth on her little feet, looking exceedingly proud of herself! Richard smiled at her joy and gave an approving nod.

"That you have, Cis, thank you! Now, run along to Isabella and ask her to take you to the kitchens, there shall be sweetmeats awaiting you and your sisters"

Cecily beamed at that and, bobbing a happy little curtsy, skipped from the room humming a tune to herself. Edward watched her, wondering how such a small soul could be so merry!

"Come!" He said and lead Constance to the table, placing her between himself and Richard. She nodded in greeting to the others. Looking down at the table, which was covered with a detailed map of England, a set of silver chess pieces to the right side. She could see he wore his ring and smiled softly to herself "My Lord Uncle of Gloucester has received word from loyalists at York"

"Good news I hope?"
"Exceedingly so!" Richard replied and pointed to where York lay upon the map "The Woodvilles have begun their response to our so called treachery in the form of a small company of thirty men supposedly sent to murder us in our beds!" Constance's breath caught in her throat but she did not speak, taking comfort in Edward's hand which appeared atop hers.

"How they meant to do it I know not, the message says they were a true criminal rabble, hardly able to hold blades! From wherever they were found they set forth but at Skipwith they were ambushed by villagers who saw the marks of Woodville loyalty they wore"
"Villagers? The common people?" Francis asked and Richard nodded, unable to refrain from at least a small smirk.

"And?" Constance prompted.
"And they were dragged from their horses and beaten to death in the street while the people called the name of their true King" He turned to his nephew "They called for King Edward and the destruction of the usurper" Pushing back from the map to stand straight, he nodded. Constance did the same.

Dragged from their horses, she thought, beaten to death in her son's name? It was a grin thought but one that simultaneously pumped molten reassurance through her veins, setting her belly aflame with determination.

Day by day more and more were rising for her son, retaliating against Woodville rule but their retaliation was no longer cries of his name or whispered prayers; marching with their Lords to join his army - it was action, violence, decisive decisions, fealty stained with blood that spoke more than words ever could "Once again we are shown the people are with us"

When news spread amongst the people of such an act - as it doubtlessly already was doing - the sparks would surely light the flame which her son's coming and their retaking of Middleham had laid ample kindling for. A tender flame was already there, she thought, it needed only a little push to fling it into an inferno.

"And God" Charles interjected with his thick French accent that made his sister smile, moved from her thoughts. It was like Jamie's - if a little deeper and more serious. For many years his had been the only other voice of their homeland at the table. 'This is for you' She mused 'I shall avenge you brother, your death and Will's shall not be in vain'

"Rebellion in our favour shall soon claim the country, I believe, particularly in the North" Richard continued, glancing at Constance "Particularly now the de la Poles have taken back Wingfield" Her eyes blew wide.

"They are free?"
"They are free. They fought just as we did" He confirmed and Edward grinned, giving his Mother's hand a warm squeeze.
"My Uncle of Suffolk has written to say he is mustering men as we speak! They shall march to join us as soon as they are able!"

"Then it is time we head South" Marie interjected, drawing the attention of the table toward her "We cannot simply sit and wait for the enemy to come upon us, we must move my brother's men to prime ground and we must choose it. I say we head South but draw the Woodvilles as North as possible; draw them into a position where we hold every card"

"What cards do they hold with their mongrel army, your grace?" Rob asked and she smiled, shaking her head. The enemy had secured their five thousand men from French prisons and reports said they were being moved across to England; many had already arrived. Some army they would make with as much skill as they had morals.

"What is your opinion, your grace?" Richard asked Edward and the young King swallowed, looking over the map. His Uncle's words were not a test per-say but encouragement to display what he knew and earn respect from those stood beside and opposite him. To solidify his position, it was paramount that he displayed his intelligence and not only fight in the coming battle but lead it; play the puppeteer not the puppet. That was a difficult thing when he was merely fourteen.

"I agree with my sister" He returned after a moment "While the South holds little to no love for the Woodvilles, that is where they have nested this past year, that is where their support is stationed. We must ensure we have every advantage and to do that we must draw the enemy as far into our territory as we can. However" He took a breath.

"that does not mean our forces cannot help accomplish victory further South. Last eve, my Lord Uncle came to me with counsel and, knowing him to be a seasoned warrior as we all do, I listened to the plan he has devised, one I believe is of great intelligence and strategy. Uncle, would you please elaborate?"

"Your grace" His Uncle inclined his head and swept up three of the polished, silver chess pieces - the King, the Queen and a rook. The rook, he placed in the centre of London on the map, the King Middleham and the Queen next to it.

"London is the key to this Kingdom. You hold the capital, you hold the country and at the moment it is in enemy hands. I believe I have a plan that shall enable us to take this land for our King with less casualties and more ease than perhaps there may be. Rob, how many men lie outside of Middleham's walls?"

"Almost ten thousand" His friend replied.
"And more are marching to join us every day, noble and commoner alike! The enemy have five thousand criminals and only a few nobles to their banner"
"Who are?" Peter asked.

"The Cliffords, the Stanleys, the Earl of Devon, the Earl of Oxford and a small number of his kin, the Jaques of Luxembourg and the Count of Brienne who are the usurper's blood on his Mother's side"
"The most powerful, and last that we know of, is the Duke of Buckingham, Henry Stafford" Marie finished.

"And how many men do they bring?"
"If our sources are correct, three thousand or so less than our current number" Richard answered "And it is unlikely to grow much further when they march North It is my belief when we set to march that we should split the King's army" He took hold of the silver Queen "and while the Woodvilles move to meet the bulk of my nephew's men, the chosen faction evade them and take London" Moving the piece down the map, he placed it firmly at the capital before moving the rook stationed there North.

"You would have us divide our forces?"

"I would have us kill two birds with one stone, Duke. The enemy is barely able to fight on one front, they shan't withstand two. London shall not be difficult to take either, we needn't send half of the men there, the Woodvilles shall have to draw all the numbers they can to make up their army, it shall be left relatively undefended. There shall be no resources for battle and they will have little choice but to open the gates"

"And if they do not?"

"Then they will take the river, Uncle" Edward replied.

"Just as Lord Fauconberg did while we sheltered in the Tower" Constance murmured, remembering the night they'd been laid siege to and the building had shaken so strongly with the shock of cannon fire she'd been sure for a moment they would be buried beneath rubble.

"Only they shall not have the power to defend as we did" Nodding to herself, she looked up at Peter who held a small frown on his face, making an almost identical one of her own appear "Vous doutez de la vivacité d'esprit de milord Gloucester, mon frère?" 'You doubt my Lord Gloucester's keenness of mind, brother?' She asked, though she could understand his doubt. What man would wish to split his army when his numbers were stronger than the enemy and promised yet to grow?

She supposed that was the reason why Richard believed they could afford to send men South, the numbers that went could be replaced by those that came but it would still have to be a plan exercised with caution.

Peter's eyes flicked to hers, roused to attention by the sudden interjection of their native language "Je vous rappelle qu'il connaît bien des batailles et vous aucune, ainsi que la terre comme un père connaît son enfant" 'I would remind you that he knows many a battle and you none as well as the land like a Father knows his child'

Charles tilted his head beside Peter, studying the map himself; arms folded.
"True" He murmured, rather more to himself than the table.

He too was a man who had not known battle on the field with a sword in his hand but his quickness of mind could not be doubted, nor could the countless political battles he'd won to his name. Stroking his chin between his thumb and forefinger for a moment, he then gave a small nod and straightened his head, looking across at Richard.

"When do you plan for us to march, my Lord?"
"When word comes the enemy has departed London, your grace"
Again, Charles nodded
"And if that were to be in, let us say, two weeks or so, what would you estimate the King's numbers to be?"

"If the flood of men continues in such force as now then at least fifteen thousand"
"And the usurper has at least seven thousand less. How many could take London?"
"Three thousand. Possibly less but if we can afford it it would do well to send more"

"Which would still leave us with ample advantage" Edward voiced and a third nod came from Charles as he studied the lone silver Queen.

"One that is more than likely to grow" With a fourth and final nod, he looked up from the map again to his sister "I think it a good plan, though one to be exercised with caution, my brother's concerns are not completely unfounded"

"And neither his grace nor I display this strategy with naught but unfailing belief in its dependance" Richard returned "but" he added "it is my intention to not only press the enemy into submission but stir the people of London into action with our coming by providing a leader who has been more than dear to their hearts for many a year, for whom they will rise"

"You do not intend to go yourself!" Constance sighed, turning her head to him only to be met with a smile; a shake of his head.

"No, my...." He caught himself "Queen. The North is where I am loved best and I am sworn to the King's side" He spoke hurriedly, leaving her heart hammering violently in her chest as he looked back to the map as did she, praying none had noticed the slight pause between his words for while it had been less than a moment, it had stretched out like an eternity before her. A terrifying eternity.

He'd almost called her 'my love'....

And yet carried on with every ounce of his usual composure and she tried to do the same despite her heart beating against her ribs, pressing against the pendant hidden beneath her gown.

"No" Richard repeated "I believe it should be Marie who leads the men" All eyes shot to the young Princess of the Holy Roman Empire and hers widened with surprise.
"Me, Uncle?"

"A woman?" Henry Scrope exclaimed, sandy hair flying across his eyes as his head darted upward and Marie's gaze flicked sharply to him, as did her Mother's "at the head of an army, not only that but a most crucial part!"

"I would remind you that I once lead an army across this realm which saw a rebellion put down and my husband, the King, freed from captivity" Constance returned cooly, making the young man quickly lower his gaze.

"I mean no offence, your grace" He raised his head "the esteemed Princess possesses many values including intelligence but she is young and untested...."
"As was I! And as are you, save when you aided us in freeing this castle! In fact" She added pointedly "you are younger than she, I believe"
"I...."

"Go fetch your Father, Henry" The sternness of Richard's voice broke their discord and the young Scrope's eyes moved to meet his, steeped in discomfort and regret "I have known him as long as I have this land and he has proven a loyal friend, he should be here to hear of our plans"

"Yes, my Lord, your graces, I offer my humblest apologies" He nodded and offered a low bow to the table before turning on his heels and striding from the room.

"How old is he, Uncle?" Marie asked, though the door was not yet shut. Richard arched an eyebrow.
"Sixteen" Constance would have been even more impressed with the skill and fortitude he'd shown the night of their revolt at that moment had he not irritated her "I'm fond of the lad but he is yet to know when to curb his tongue at times, he meant no insult"

"Then he should not have spoken" His niece returned - stung.

"He should not, my dear, but I did not expect to be met with naught but praise to such an idea but as I said" He turned his attention to the others around the table.

"The Princess is beloved by the people, a favourite daughter to all those of London whom has returned home from her new land to rescue them! And, of course, she shall take the commanders of the Burgundian forces she brought for I intend for them to accompany her, as shall the forces brought to our cause by Brittany. That makes one thousand six hundred. The rest of the company is yet to be decided, though shall likely include Englishmen since London would not take kindly to being descended upon by an entirely foreign force. She shall not be alone but with men who are seasoned commanders!"

"And therefore is not likely not fail" Edward concluded with a firm nod "We shall have force and use the power of the people's adoration to open London's gates and take the capital"
"While we take the country" Rob finished "I think it a good plan, your grace, we simply need to enact it with caution"

A silence fell amongst the group, Marie looking at the table, the cogs of her mind turning, turning, turning, until she raised her head to look across the faces of the others - the men watching the map. She found she could not blame them for their silent doubt but it still stung her as much, if not more than Henry Scrope's words for she knew she wouldn't be able to bear their looks of condescension.

Flicking her gaze to the table for a moment again, she then reached for the silver Queen and curled her fingers around its engraved body, smoothing the tip of one around the pointed crown.

"I may be young" She looked up and nine pairs of eyes turned towards her. She straightened her back, pulled back her shoulders, raised her head. Just as she'd been taught by her Father. 'You must make them respect you' He'd once told her one evening, many years past, when she'd been sat on his lap and he'd been smiling, winding locks of her hair around his fingers 'You must fill the room with your presence and never cower. Look each and every one in the eye, look into their soul, pierce it, remind them every moment who you are' And she would.

"And perhaps ignorant in the ways of war in your eyes but I am my Father's daughter, his eldest living child in this world, and I have been well taught. His blood runs through me, as does my Mother's and have they not both proven their worth in times of great strife? They did not cower and nor shall I! War has been my life as long as I can remember, I know what sways some and what sways others, the choices that have to be made and the caution that must be taken up alongside boldness. I know this land for this land is mine and as my Uncle said, I have the people's hearts as does my brother, the King. I live long in their memories, in the memories of those in London. I am a relic of my Father, a reminder of bountiful times, when peace was seen from coast to coast. They shan't forget that and nor do I as I shan't forget that while I am to lead this plan, those around me are seasoned warriors. I will listen to their council with an eager mind and act according to their wisdom while possessing my own instinct and intelligence inherited from a great line"

Swallowing, she held her breath, keeping her head high as one by one the men around the table began to nod, even Peter. Relief washed over her heart.

"Well said, your grace" Charles murmured, his lips curving into a small, but not mocking, smile.
"We all remember your Father, Princess" Francis added "He was a fine man, a great King, and we see your strength in him" He nodded toward Constance "as we see your good Lady Mother's" She inclined her head.

"If I may, your grace" John Howard said, hands planted firmly against the table "it would be my honour to be amongst those who accompanies the Princess to London" Marie's chest swelled with glee. John was well known for his prowess on the battlefield and while ageing at fifty nine had not yet waned in strength nor sharpness or skill. To have such a man endorse her was a grand thing indeed!

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Edward grin wide and proud.

"That would please me and my Lord Uncle very well, Sir" He replied and Howard bowed "We thank you for your service and what is more" He turned his attention to the rest in the room "before we lay the details of such a plan I wish to discuss another for it is my wish that before I depart that the traitor Richard Grey be executed"

"Here here" Richard murmured and Constance saw Charles' own quiet smile grow.