De Lacy found the landlord dozing beside the chimney in the kitchen.
The fire was still smouldering on the hearth, and the big black kettle
gave forth an odor of garlic and vegetables that made the air most
foul. On the floor, in promiscuous confusion, lay various members of
the establishment, of both sexes, who never even stirred at the
Knight's entrance, either because they were too deep in sleep to hear
him or too tired to care if they were trodden upon. Arousing the host,
Aymer demanded all the keys of the inn, in the name of the Duke of
Gloucester, and before the half-dazed fellow could respond he seized
the big bunch that hung at his girdle and snapped it free. Bidding him
mind his own business and go to sleep, he proceeded to execute his
orders; and then hastened to the house where, by accident, that evening
he had noticed Raynor Royk was quartered.
Twenty minutes later he rode out of Northampton and crossed the Nene
with the fifty retainers behind him. To Dauvrey and Raynor Royk, he
repeated the Duke's order just as it had been given, deeming it well,
if he were incapacitated, that those next in command should know what
to do. Leaving five men on the south bank of the Nene, he dropped
bands of four at regular intervals along the road, with instructions to
patrol constantly the intervening distances on both sides of them. The
remaining five men he posted at the Roman highway, with orders not to
separate under any circumstances.
Leaving Raynor in charge of this detail, De Lacy and his squire jogged
slowly back toward Northampton. Hanging in an almost cloudless sky,
the full moon was lighting up with its brilliant uncertainty the
country around. The intense calm of the early morning was upon the
earth, and there was no sound but the tramp of their horses, varied, at
intervals, by the approach of one of the patrols or the passing of a
sentry post.
About midway to the Nene the squire's horse picked a stone. It stuck
persistently, and he swore at it under his breath as he tried to free
it. Presently it yielded, and he had raised his arm to hurl it far
away when a sharp word from De Lacy arrested him. They had chanced to
halt in the shadow of a bit of woodland which, at that point, fringed
the east side of the road. To the left, for some distance, the ground
was comparatively clear of timber, and crossing this open space, about
a hundred yards away, were two horsemen. They were riding at a rapid
trot, but over the soft turf they made no sound.
"There," said De Lacy, waving his hand.
The squire swung noiselessly into saddle.
"Shall we stop them?" he asked.
"Of course--be ready if they show fight."
Suddenly Dauvrey's horse threw up his head and whinnied. At the first
quaver, De Lacy touched Selim and rode out into the moonlight toward
the strangers, who had stopped sharply.
"Good evening, fair sirs," said he; "you ride late."
"Not so; we are simply up betimes," replied one, "and therefore, with
your permission, since we are in some haste, we will wish you a very
good morning and proceed."
"Nay, be not so precipitate. Whither away, I pray, at such strange
hours and over such strange courses?"
"What business is it of yours," exclaimed he who had first spoken,
"whether we come from the clouds? Out of the way, or take the
consequences," and he flashed forth his sword.
"You are hardly courteous," replied Aymer, "and therefore scarce angels
in disguise, even though you prate of the clouds. So if you wish to
measure blades I shall not balk you. Nathless," as he slowly freed his
own weapon, "it is a quarrel not of my making."
"Will you let us pass then?" said the stranger.
"I never said I would not; I but asked your destination."
"And I refused to answer--stand aside."
"Nay, nay! do not get excited," said De Lacy calmly. "Consider a
moment; you ask all and grant nothing. I wish to know whither you
ride--you wish to ride. It is only a fair exchange."
"It is very evident that you are seeking a quarrel," the other
exclaimed; "and by the Holy Saints! you have found it. I shall ride
on, and if it be over your carcass, on your head be it."
"I have seen a few dead bodies in my time, fair sir," replied Sir Aymer
with a laugh, "but never one that stood upon its head. It is a pity
then I may not see my own."
The stranger made no reply, but settling himself well in saddle charged
in. De Lacy, without changing position further than to drop the reins
over the saddle bow, so as to leave both hands free to wield his sword,
awaited the rush. Saving a thin corselet of steel beneath his doublet,
he wore no armor; and as his antagonist was, outwardly at least,
entirely unprotected, a single stroke of the heavy weapons would likely
decide the matter.
For a space, De Lacy contented himself with parrying the blows aimed at
him and with blocking the other's advance. Repeatedly he could have
ended the fight, but always he forebore. The man was no possible match
for him, and with soldierly generosity he hesitated either to kill or
to wound grievously one who showed so much pluck and grit even when the
struggle was plainly lost. He was waiting the opportunity to disarm
him.
"Will you not yield?" he asked at last, as again he brushed aside the
other's weapon.
The only answer was a swinging blow that just missed his forehead.
De Lacy frowned, and his patience began to ebb. For the first time he
assumed the offensive. Pressing Selim close, he feinted quickly twice,
and catching the other off guard he brought his sword down on the
stranger's with a crash. There was a flash of sparks, a sharp ring of
metal on stones, and of the weapon naught was left but a silver hilt.
"Yield," said Aymer sternly, presenting his point at the man's throat.
"It is your last chance."
"I yield," said the other, hurling the bladeless hilt to the ground.
"And may the Devil get the rogue that forged this weapon! And now,
fair Knight,--for I see that your spurs are golden,--I will avow my
destination to be London, and I presume I am at liberty to proceed."
"Nay, I shall have to ask you to bear me company back to Northampton,"
said De Lacy kindly.
"How so! Am I a prisoner?"
"Only until daybreak."
"It is most unusual--but, so be it." Then he turned to his companion.
"Farewell, James," he said, "my misfortune need not affect you. I will
join you in London."
De Lacy shook his head. "He came with you, and with you he bides.
Giles, see to him."
"Truly, this is a strange proceeding on the King's highway, and with
His Majesty but a few miles distant," the other exclaimed with
increasing heat.
"Pardieu! how know you of the King's whereabouts?" said De Lacy,
scanning the man's face. "I believe you are from Northampton."
A shrug of the shoulders was the only answer.
At that moment the patrol rode up and was about to proceed when Sir
Aymer stopped him.
"You know this man?" he demanded.
The soldier came closer; and after a brief glance answered: "He is a
squire in the household of Lord Rivers, so please you; I have seen him
often."
De Lacy smiled. "So that explains your knowledge of the King. I
regret, however, that Rivers' message will not reach Edward to-night.
Nathless, I would like to know how you passed the guards thus far."
"This fellow's statement that I am of Lord Rivers' following does not
establish that I am from him now," replied the squire. "You, yourself,
saw that I struck the highway only at this spot, and that I did not
come from the direction of Northampton."
"Yet that proves nothing to my mind, except that you thought to avoid
the patrol by a detour and have failed. Come, sir, we will face
Northward, if you please; enough time has been wasted in profitless
debate."
The squire wheeled his horse to the right, as though to comply; then
suddenly driving home the spurs he cleared the road at a bound and
dashed back the way he had come.
"After him!" shouted De Lacy; and leaving Dauvrey to guard the other
prisoner, he and the patrol sped in pursuit. The squire had acted so
quickly that he had obtained a lead of at least a hunted feet and Aymer
labored strenuously to overtake him. Being totally ignorant of the
country, he could rely only on sight to indicate the course; whereas
the other evidently was familiar with the by-paths, and once the first
was reached would likely, in the uncertain light, be able to elude him.
He swore at himself heartily for his carelessness, and with anger
growing hotter at every jump he drew his sword, resolved that there
would be no second escape if, when he got within reach, his order to
halt were not instantly obeyed. Yet, strive as he might, Selim could
not, in that short distance, come up with the big bay ahead; and as the
squire entered the heavier timber, he looked back and laughed
mockingly. But this act of foolish defiance worked his destruction;
for at that very instant, his horse stumbled and plunged forward on his
knees, and he, having loosed his thigh grip in turning, was hurled
headlong to the ground and rolled over and over by the impetus.
"We will see that you play us no more such tricks," said Aymer. "Bind
him with your sword belt."
The patrol bent over and tried to put the strap around the man's arms.
The body was limp in his grasp.
"He is unconscious, my lord," he said.
"It may be a sham," said De Lacy, dismounting. . . "Pasque Dieu! your
belt will not be needed. The man is dead: his neck is broken. . . It
is a graceless thing to do, yet . . . Here, my man, help me carry the
body out into the moonlight yonder . . . now, search it for a
letter--for a letter, mark you, nothing else."
Kneeling beside it, the soldier did as he was bid, and presently drew
forth a bit of parchment. It was without superscription and De Lacy
broke the wax.
"As I thought," he muttered, as his eyes fell upon the signature; then,
letting the moonlight fall full upon the page, he read:
"Vaughan:
"Buckingham joined Gloucester this evening. Grey and I are prisoners
in the inn. Send Edward on to London instantly with Croft. If
necessary, use force to keep the King, and then mark well the Dukes. I
may not write more; time is precious. I trust in your discretion.
"Rivers."
"It will go ill with the Earl when Richard sees these words," thought
De Lacy, as he mounted and returned to the road, where Dauvrey was
patiently standing guard over the other prisoner.
"Come, Giles," he said, "secure his bridle rein. We will drop him at
the next guard post, and in the morning he can return and bury the
squire."
There was the faintest blush of dawn in the eastern sky as De Lacy and
Dauvrey crossed the Nene and re-entered Northampton. At the inn all
was quiet, and Aymer ascended quickly to Gloucester's room. The Duke
was lying on the bed, fully dressed, and the gown that Catesby had
placed ready to his hand had not been touched. He greeted the young
Knight with a smile and without rising.
"Well, Sir Aymer?" he said.
De Lacy gave him the letter.
"I took it," he explained, "from one of Rivers' squires, midway between
the Roman road and the Nene. He had followed by-paths and so avoided
the guards."
Walking to the single candle that burnt dimly on the table Richard read
the letter carefully.
"You have done good service for England this night," he said. "And now
do you retire and rest; I may need you before many hours. But first
return to the landlord his keys; they have served their end."
An hour later Northampton had thrown off its calm. A thousand
soldiers, retainers of three great nobles, had roused themselves; and
to the ordinary bustle of camp life were added the noisy greetings of
those who, once comrades, had not seen each other for years; or who,
strangers until a few hours aback, were now boon companions. Around
the inn, however, there was strict order; but whether disturbed by the
general confusion, or because their brains were too busy for slumber,
the lords were early astir. Yet, whatever worry there may have been
during the night, it was as well veiled now, as they gathered again
around the table, as when they laughed and gossiped at the same board
the prior evening. And indeed, doubtless, their minds were actually
easier; for Rivers and Grey were believing that their communication had
reached Croft; Buckingham was persuaded that at last his day of triumph
was come; and Gloucester, with Rivers' fatal letter in his pocket, knew
that he had won the first throw in the great game he was playing.
"When does Your Grace desire to resume the journey?" Rivers asked as
the breakfast was finished.
"Best start at once.--How say you, Buckingham?" said Richard.
"The Duke of Gloucester commands here," replied Stafford with a
courtier's suavity.
"Then let us proceed; it will be more kind to the King in that it will
not detain him unduly. . . I presume he will await us at Stoney
Stratford?" glancing carelessly at Rivers.
"I so requested by messenger yesterday," the Earl answered.
"You are a model of thoughtfulness, my lord," said Gloucester with one
of his strange smiles, as he buckled on his sword and led the way
toward the horses.
Two hours after leaving Northampton the cavalcade, now traveling the
Roman road, approached the crossing of the Ouse at the boundary of
Buckinghamshire. Stoney Stratford lay just south of the river. On the
northern bank of the stream Gloucester drew rein and the column halted.
A moment before he had been laughing, apparently in the best of humor.
Now his face was stern as stone and his voice pitiless as Fate as,
turning to the Earl of Rivers who was riding beside him, he said:
"My lord, before we proceed farther, there are a few matters between us
that require adjustment."
Rivers' face paled suddenly, and involuntarily he bore so heavily on
the bit that his horse reared high. Taken unawares, his usually facile
mind was confused by the abruptness of Richard's words and the calm
determination plainly foreshadowed in them. Trained by years of
experience in a Court where intrigue imbrued the very atmosphere,
ordinarily he was equal to any emergency. But all his schemes of the
past were as gossamer to the conspiracy in which he was now entangled,
and since the previous evening--when the unexpected arrival of
Gloucester had hung their whole plot upon his shoulders until he got
the King to London--the strain on his nerves had been terrific. He had
thought to play the game out in the Capital, not on the lonely bank of
a river in distant Northampton; and it is small wonder that under all
the circumstances Anthony Woodville fell before Richard Plantagenet,
whose equal England had known but twice before, in the first
Plantagenet and the first Edward, and knew but twice thereafter, in
Oliver Cromwell and William of Orange.
"This is scarce a place for discussion, my Lord Duke," said Rivers,
striving to calm his restive horse. "If, as your words imply, there be
aught of controversy between us, it were best to settle it in London.
Yonder is Stoney Stratford, and it will not profit the King for us to
quarrel here."
"Methinks, Sir Earl, that I am quite as capable as you of judging what
shall work to Edward's profit," replied Gloucester curtly; "and I
choose to settle it here, and not to annoy him with matters too weighty
for his young brain."
"It is your own profit and not your King's that you seek," said Rivers.
"I decline to hold further discussion or to quarrel with you until I
have done my duty to my Sovereign and have seen him safe in London.
Then I shall be most willing to meet you, with sword, or axe, or
lance--and may God defend the right. Come, Grey, we will ride on
alone."
Gloucester had listened with darkening brow, and the gnawing of under
lip was ominous; but at the last words he threw his horse in front of
the Earl's.
"Ere you depart, my Lord of Scales and Rivers," he said, and smiled
peculiarly, "you must hear me out. Of your rash speech I shall make no
account; and you know full well that a Prince of England breaks no
lance nor crosses sword save on the field of battle, whereon are all
men equal. But I fain would ask if you expect to meet Edward the Fifth
in yonder town?"
"I have already told you that I dispatched a messenger to detain him
until we arrived," retorted the Earl hotly.
"Aye! And later another messenger to hurry him on," said Richard
laconically.
"What proof have you for that?" demanded Rivers, reining back.
"This!" replied the Duke sternly, producing the captured letter.
"I see nothing but a bit of parchment; yet well I know that it can be
made to tell strange tales for selfish ends."
"It is parchment, unfortunately for you, my lord, and it tells a
selfish tale," said Gloucester calmly. "It is the letter you
dispatched last night to Edward's Chamberlain, but which was taken by
one of my good Knights, though your Squire died in its defence. You
know its contents--and, mayhap, you also begin to know the depth of
your folly."
"It is evident that I am in the toils of a plot laid by you and yonder
brother-in-law of mine," said the Earl with haughty contempt. "You
have entrapped me; and the deepest folly that I know would be to hope
for justice in such clutches. I am to be sacrificed because, forsooth,
I am dangerous to the conspiracy that you have afoot; and well can I
foresee what the conspiracy designs. . . Yet did I flatter you
overmuch, my Lord of Buckingham; it is no creature of your brain, this
scheme whose end is treason. You are too vain and empty-headed to be
of any service except to aid its execution--and then, later, to be the
leading figure at your own. Your sires were overmuch Lancastrian for
you to be trusted by a son of York--after your usefulness is ended."
Gloucester's stern mouth relaxed in a faint smile, but Buckingham
flushed angrily.
"By the Holy Saints!" he broke out, "were it not that the very touch
would soil a Stafford's gauntlet, I would lay my hand across your
Woodville mouth."
"It is passing strange then, if we be so degraded," said Rivers
quickly, "that you should have chosen a Woodville for a wife."
Pushing his horse past Grey, Buckingham leaned forward and would have
struck the Earl had not the calm tones of Gloucester stayed him in the
very act.
"Hold! Stafford, you forget yourself--and you, Sir Earl, return your
dagger."
"He shall answer me for those words," Buckingham exclaimed.
"I am at your service this very instant," returned Rivers, doffing his
bonnet and bowing to his charger's neck.
"This very instant be it," cried the Duke, springing down and drawing
sword.
Before the last word was spoken, Rivers was off his horse and
confronting Stafford with bared weapon. But ere the blades could clash
together, Gloucester swung between them and knocked up the Earl's sword
with his own, which he had unsheathed with amazing swiftness.
"Cease this foolishness," he said sternly. "Buckingham, you forget
yourself. Ratcliffe, arrest the Earl of Rivers and Sir Richard Grey."
The Master of Horse rode forward.
"Your sword, my lord," he said to Rivers.
For a moment the Earl hesitated; then hurled it far out into the river.
"In the name of the King, whose uncle and governor I am, I protest,
lord Duke, against this unwarranted and outrageous conduct," he cried.
"And I arrest you in the name of that very King, whose uncle and
guardian I am," replied Richard. "Ratcliffe, execute your orders."
"I must request you to accompany me forthwith," said Ratcliffe
courteously, to the two noblemen.
Resistance was utterly hopeless, and without a further word the Earl
remounted; and Grey taking place beside him they passed slowly toward
the rear. Presently, as they neared the end of the long column, a
hundred men detached themselves from the line and fell in behind them.
Rivers observed it with a smile, half sad, half cynical.
"They honor us, at least, in the size of our guard," he remarked to
Grey; then turned to Ratcliffe. "May I inquire our prison, Sir
Richard?"
"Certainly, my lord; we ride to Pontefract."
"Whence two of us shall ne'er return," said the Earl, with calm
conviction. "May the Good Christ watch over Edward now."
X