When De Lacy--now in ordinary riding dress, his armor having been
relegated to the baggage beasts--reached the main highway the following
morning, he looked in vain for the dust of Gloucester's column or the
glimmer of sun on steel. The road was deserted. Not a traveler was in
sight, and there being no means of ascertaining if the Duke had passed,
he adopted the only safe course and took up the march for London.
Presently, upon cresting a hill, they met a pair of Black Friars
trudging slowly along towards York; but little information was obtained
from them, for they had not been on the road yesterday, having spent
the last week at a neighboring monastery, which they had quit only that
morning. It was rumored there, however, that the Duke of Gloucester
had passed southward the prior day with a great train of attendants.
This, at least, was some slight indication, and thanking them
courteously De Lacy jogged on; but it was not until they reached
Doncaster, about noon, that accurate knowledge of the Duke was obtained.
Halting before the inn of the "Silver Sun," a ramshackle old house,
from over whose door, as proclaiming the character of the place,
projected a long pole with a bunch of furze on the end, De Lacy called,
"Ho, within!"
The landlord, a big, blear-eyed rogue, much the worse for wear and ale,
came shambling out at the summons. His listlessness vanished quickly
enough, however, at sight of the Knight and his following; and bowing
to the ground he asked how he might serve them.
"With food and drink, good fellow," said De Lacy; "and that right
quickly."
"Your worship shall be accommodated immediately with what I have," said
the man with another bow that almost overbalanced him, "but if it is
meagre, blame the Duke of Gloucester and his men."
"His Grace has passed?" asked Aymer.
"God's truth! he has," said the fellow. "He precedes you by a day.
And, saving your lordship, if you travel to the Coronation, methinks
you will have but scant fare along the road. They eat things clean as
they go--but pay good silver for it."
"How many has the Duke in his train?"
"At least six hundred, I should say."
"He has doubled his force since he left Pontefract," observed Aymer to
his squire, as the inn-keeper retired. "And there may be truth in what
the rogue says--we may find slender provision in the wake of such a
column."
"If there be enough for the horses, we can soon overtake them," said
the squire; "for the men, it matters little: we all are soldiers."
De Lacy nodded. "We will push on steadily, and though I know little of
this country, I fancy we will come up with the Duke by to-morrow night."
"By your lordship's permission," said old Raynor Royk respectfully, who
had overheard the conversation, "we shall not see the White Boar banner
this side Leicester town, and we shall scarce reach there before the
evening of the second day from now."
And the old veteran, as events proved, was correct in his calculation.
When De Lacy entered Leicester, he hailed the first soldier he chanced
upon and was informed that Gloucester lodged at the "White Boar," near
the center of the town. It was a large and handsome stone house, with
the second floor of timber overhanging the street; and before it swung
the painted sign: a white boar and a thorn bush, indicating that the
place was named in honor of the Duke. And De Lacy smiled as he thought
how, to his own knowledge, at least half a dozen inns on the Continent
had been hastily compelled to rechristen themselves when, from some
cause or other, the particular individual whose name or arms they bore
fell suddenly into disgrace. That such might happen in this case,
however, never crossed his mind.
Passing the guards, who knew him and saluted, he entered the house, but
was stopped at once by two strange squires, who informed him that the
Duke was at present engaged. But even as they spoke, the inner door
opened and Sir Richard Ratcliffe came out.
"Welcome back, Sir Aymer," he exclaimed. "The Duke has inquired for
you. Why were you not announced?"
"I was told he was engaged," said Aymer.
"That was because they did not know you were of the Household. Come--"
and himself admitted him.
The Duke was alone, seated before a rough table with his head upon his
hand, and he did not stir until De Lacy stood directly before him.
Then raising his eyes he fastened them intently upon the young Knight's
face, though without sternness.
[Illustration: The Duke fastened his eyes upon the young knight's face.]
"You stopped at Pontefract," he said.
"I did, so please you," replied Aymer promptly. "I could gain but
little by going farther that evening."
"And might gain much by staying," said Gloucester, sententiously.
"However, I am glad, since you can give me word of the Duchess. How
fares she?"
"As when you left, my lord. She sent her loving wishes to you."
Then drawing out De Bury's letter, he presented it without remark.
Richard read it carefully, and inquired regarding the journey to
Craigston Castle. De Lacy narrated briefly the incident of the attack
upon Sir John, but detailed at length the conduct of the Abbot of
Kirkstall. The Duke, however, seemed more interested in the assault
than in the priest, and asked particularly concerning the assailants.
But on learning that neither De Bury nor the veteran Royk had
recognized any of them, he dropped the matter with the remark:
"You have profited by your experience on the Continent. Not many would
have thought to investigate these seeming outlaws."
De Lacy thanked the Duke for his words, and after being informed that
he was to lodge at the inn with the rest of the suite, and that the
march would be resumed an hour after daybreak, he withdrew, and having
dismissed the squire with the horses went in search of Dacre or De
Wilton.
It was a brave array that passed out of Leicester that Tuesday morning
behind the royal Duke, and in soldiery fitness, man for man, its like
was not in England. But it was a peculiar march, withal. No flourish
of trumpets heralded the advance; no gaudy costumes clothed the
attending Knights. The bugles were hushed, save where necessary to
convey an order; the banners were bound in sable; upon every man was
the badge of mourning; Richard himself was clad in black, and the
trappings of his horse were raven-hued. Not since the great Henry died
at Vincennes, sixty and more years before, had England mourned for a
King; and as they passed along the highway and through the straggling
villages, the people wondered at the soberly garbed and quiet column,
forgetting, for the moment, that Edward the Fourth was sleeping in the
chapel of St. George at Windsor and that his successor was not yet
crowned.
All morning Gloucester rode steadily onward, halting near noon at a
wayside hostelry for refreshment. The keeper, unnerved at the sudden
advent of such a guest, could only stand and stare at the Duke,
forgetting in his amazement even the accustomed bow with which he would
have greeted an ordinary wayfarer, until a sharp word from Catesby
brought him to his wits.
When the meal was almost finished, a sudden commotion arose outside,
and the door was opened to admit one whose appearance showed every
evidence of a rapid ride.
"Speak," said Richard.
The messenger saluted. "So please you, my lord, His Majesty will reach
Northampton by four o'clock this afternoon."
Gloucester nodded; then arose and drew on his gauntlets.
"Gentlemen," said he, "we may not dally longer. Order up the horses,
Ratcliffe, and let the route be sounded; we must be at Northampton ere
the vespers chime."
"There will be some shrewd tongue play, methinks, and perchance sharp
action this night," remarked De Wilton to De Lacy as, late in the
afternoon, the towers of Northampton lifted before them. "Rivers and
Grey are with young Edward--it will be Woodville against Plantagenet,
and England for the stakes."
"A royal game, indeed," said De Lacy; "yet, surely, Edward's kingdom is
secure."
"Pasque Dieu!" exclaimed De Wilton, "I can answer that better after he
is crowned. All that I think now is that the situation is very grave.
This meeting in yonder town is big with fate."
"I fear I am too new to my native land to appreciate the present
situation," replied De Lacy; "yet I hope that war may be averted.
There has been bloodshed enough in this fair land since the Roses were
plucked."
"By St. George! my heart is with yours," returned De Wilton instantly;
"yet, mark me, this night will make history for England. If not, then
I mistake the Duke of Gloucester. It is obvious now that, to him, this
meeting is no accident--it was timed for most adroitly. Why did he
tarry so long at Pontefract, unless because it were easier to prick the
Woodville bubble at Northampton than in London?"
"You know the Prince far better than I," said De Lacy, "but perchance
you do not know that with Rivers ride two thousand men. If Gloucester
intended such a course, why did he not bring a larger following? He
was fully advised of the number of the King's escort."
"Because it would have aroused instant suspicion and left him no
recourse but to force. He has some other plan, I warrant. Yet, should
it come to blows, Richard himself is equal to a thousand men."
"Scarce so much as that, I fancy," said De Lacy, with a laugh.
"Nathless, sooner will I ride behind the Boar of Gloucester with six
hundred swords than under the Woodville banner with thrice the number."
"Well said, by St. George!" De Wilton exclaimed. "No Lancastrian
upstart for me."
"Be not so energetic, Sir Ralph," said De Lacy, as Ratcliffe, hearing
the words, looked back. "But tell me, I pray, who are these that
approach?"
"Your eyes are keener than mine," returned De Wilton, "for I can scarce
discern them at all. Is there any banner displayed?"
"Aye, but I cannot yet distinguish the device. . . . There are at
least fifty of them, and they are riding most marvellously fast. By
St. Denis! they cannot travel far at such a pace. When the sun next
falls athwart the banner, I will try to make it out. . . There . . .
Pardieu! it is a queer bearing: _argent, à la fasce-canton à desire de
gueules_. Do you know it, or have I not read it aright?"
"Nay, your heraldry is not amiss," said De Wilton. "It is the red fess
and canton of the Woodvilles. Yonder comes Lord Anthony of Scales and
Rivers."
"Then the struggle is on, I ween," remarked De Lacy. "Let us move
closer to the Duke. I would not miss this meeting."
When the horsemen were a short distance away, they broke from a hand
gallop into a walk, and then all halted except the two who were in
front. Of these, one was a man nearing middle age, of most courtly
bearing and noble countenance; while his companion, who resembled him
somewhat, was considerably younger. Meanwhile, Gloucester had kept
steadily on; but when the others dismounted and advanced on foot, he
instantly drew rein, and as Ratcliffe threw himself from the saddle and
held the stirrup he stepped to the ground.
"Welcome, noble Rivers and Grey!" he exclaimed. "How fares His
Majesty?"
The two men bent over the Duke's hands, and the elder replied: "Fit as
a King, and most anxious to greet his great and noble uncle."
"Not more than is his uncle to greet him," said Gloucester; and Rivers
read two meanings in the words. "Therefore, let us proceed; and do you
and Sir Richard ride beside me; I have questions by the score to ask."
Presently, as they neared the gate of the town, Gloucester turned to
the Earl.
"Where does the King lodge--at the castle?" he asked.
"His Majesty," replied Rivers, with a quick glance at the Duke, "has a
boy's eagerness to reach London, and insisted upon pushing on as far as
Stoney Stratford--this afternoon. He had already left Northampton when
we learned of your approach. A moment more and we also would have been
gone, for it found us with foot in stirrup."
There was a smile on the Duke's lips as he listened to this unexpected
news.
"I do not wonder at Edward's haste," he answered lightly. "Who would
not be impatient when a crown is waiting for him?--though I regret that
it postpones our meeting till the morrow."
"You will not follow the King to-night?" asked Rivers quickly.
"No, I shall lie here if you and Sir Richard will bear me company. But
if you rejoin him, I must perforce go, too--for me now to remain here
alone would be discourteous."
"Your Grace honors us overmuch; we shall stay and gladly," replied
Rivers readily. "Edward has the others of his Household, and can spare
us for one night."
"Marry, yes!" said Richard. "Vaughan and Croft and Worcester's Bishop
can hold him tight enough, else has the Welsh air changed them greatly."
At the large inn near the market-place the party halted, and
Gloucester, after a few words aside with Ratcliffe, summoned Catesby
and retired to his room. An hour later he descended and requested
Rivers and Grey to join him at the evening meal.
Scarcely had it begun when down the street came the rattle of
bridle-rings and the click of many hoofs. Rivers glanced
apprehensively at the Duke, and then at Grey, and then back again at
the Duke, who was sipping his wine apparently quite oblivious of the
approaching noise. In another moment, at the outer door an imperious
voice demanded:
"Is His Grace of Gloucester within?"
At the tones, Rivers started and dropped his knife upon his plate; his
brows contracted slightly and a troubled look dawned in his eyes.
"Ha, De Lacy, well met!" came the voice again.
"By St. Denis! my lord, I am glad to see you," was the response. "It
is a pleasure I had not counted on this side of London. Have you seen
the Duke?"
"I arrived but this moment. Will you take me to him?"
"Assuredly--he is now at supper, but I shall venture to admit you."
They crossed the outer room, the door opened, and De Lacy stepped
within and announced:
"The Duke of Buckingham!"
The man who entered was full six feet in height and slender, and bore
himself with the easy assurance of one accustomed to respect and
deference. His face was handsome in general outline and effect, though
the features were not accordant with one another. Beneath a mass of
ruddy hair, a broad, high forehead arched a pair of shifty grey eyes
and a large, full nose overhung a mouth of indifferent strength, while
the whole was gripped by a chin that was a fit complement to the
forehead. He paused for an instant, as his glance fell on Gloucester's
companions, and his surprise was very evident--then he doffed bonnet
and came forward.
"By St. Paul!" exclaimed Richard, rising and extending his hand, "it is
so long since I have seen the Duke of Buckingham that it was well to
announce him formally."
"It is only those with the fame of a Gloucester that require no
introduction," replied Stafford, with a graceful bow that included also
Rivers and Grey.
"Come, come, Sir Duke!" said Richard, "this is too much of a family
gathering for the turning of compliments."
"In truth, yes," returned Buckingham--"a half-brother and three uncles
of our King--but, pardieu! where is His Majesty? Methought you
traveled with him, fair brother-in-law."
"Edward lies to-night at Stoney Stratford," replied Rivers.
"Aye, it is unexpected all around, this meeting, it seems," said
Richard suavely. "And, by St. Paul! a happy chance indeed. Come,
Buckingham, the gross chare grow cold; take place and fall to. . .
Catesby, tell the cook to sauce another capon and unbrace a mallard."
In all history there scarce had been a supper party such as this.
There, about that table in this humble hostelry, were gathered four
noblemen--three of them the most powerful in all England--who were
arrayed against each other as leaders of the two factions that were
playing for the highest stakes a mortal knows. Every one knew the
relative positions of the others (for Rivers naturally judged
Gloucester to be against the Woodvilles); that, within a few short
days, the final move must be made; and that all their gayety and
jocosity were hollow, and assumed but as a mask. At that very moment,
while they smiled and played at friendship, Rivers and Grey were
consumed with anxiety at this sudden appearance of Buckingham, their
arch-enemy, and were hating him and Richard with fierce intensity;
Buckingham was regarding them with all the fervid resentment the old
Nobility had for this upstart family; while Gloucester, with neither
hatred nor resentment in his mind, but with the cool, calm judgment
that ever rose above the pettiness of personal feeling, was viewing
them only as pawns that hampered his game of statecraft and therefore
must be swept from the board.
It was near midnight when they quit the table and retired to their
rooms above. Richard dismissed Catesby, who as Chamberlain was waiting
for him, and drawing the rude chair to the many-paned window he opened
it, and sat looking out upon the street below. Comparative quiet had
settled over the town, broken now and then by a noise from the camp, or
the shouts of some roistering soldiers far down the road. Around the
inn there was only the tramp of the guards, the rattle of their arms,
or the low word of greeting as they met. Presently there came an easy
knock upon the door and Buckingham entered and shot the bolt behind
him. Gloucester had turned his head at the first sound, but said
nothing until the Duke was beside him. Then, pointing toward the
heavens, he remarked, as he closed the casement:
"It will be a fair day to-morrow."
"All days are fair for some purposes," said Buckingham quickly; "and
the sooner the day the fairer to my mind."
Richard smiled. "Patience, my dear Stafford, patience. It will come
soon enough even for your eagerness, I fancy. Did I not say to-morrow
would be fair?"
"You are pleased to speak in riddles."
"Not so; you used the riddle and I but spoke in kind. However, trifles
aside. Your arrival was well timed; you should have seen Rivers' face
when he heard your voice; it was worth a Knight's good fee. For the
first time he began to see how he had blundered. By St. Paul! a child
could have done better. The game is easy now."
Buckingham looked puzzled.
"What do you mean, my lord?" he said. "I have been following blindly
your direction in this affair, and I must admit that the point is very
hazy to me."
"Do you not see," said the Duke, "that by remaining here and sending
young Edward ahead at my approach, Rivers and Grey have overreached
themselves completely? In their desire to keep me from the King--for
plainly they did not know of your coming--they have separated
themselves from Edward and his two thousand men; and in so doing have
lost both Edward and themselves."
"Yet the two thousand men are still with Edward, are they not?"
Buckingham insisted. "I have three hundred, but methinks even though
you ride with twice that number we would be utterly outmatched."
"Nay, you do not perceive my plan," said Richard. "It will not be
necessary to fight. I could win now with but a hundred men. We
will------"
At that moment a clear voice came up from the street. Richard listened
an instant and then opened the casement.
"De Lacy," he called, "come hither. . . I want you," he said when the
young Knight entered, wrapped in his long cloak, "with all possible
secrecy, to secure all the doors of the inn and bring the keys to me.
At any that cannot be locked, post two of my personal retainers with
orders to permit no one to depart the place. That done, take fifty men
and station them along the road to where it joins the Roman highway
this side the Ouse. Bid them allow no one to travel southward ere
sunrise without express authority from me. Act instantly."