The Tudor Rose by Margaret Campbell Barnes Read Free Book Online

from the fact that he is up in Warwick Castle, I fear your brother would find him but poor company,” he said. “For as you know, my dear Elizabeth, he is but simple in the wits, having been born in that bad storm at sea.”

    “More likely because his treacherous father was fuddled with malmsey when he was begetting him!” scoffed the Queen. “I would not have my poor son lonely, but surely, as my daughter says, some other lads of his own age can be found for him. He might even be more contented so,” she added, searching feverishly in her mind for yet more excuses, “for it is a known fact that children quarrel most with their own kindred.”

    “Oh, Bess, when did Ned and I ever quarrel?” whispered Richard indignantly, drawing his sister away from their arguing elders.

    Elizabeth smiled down at him, knowing his sweet disposition. And understanding how bad it was for him to hear himself being the bone of so much contention, she went with him to join the other children. “All the same,” he added apprehensively, “I no longer want to go.”

    “But you will have a new doublet and hose and ride in the lovely procession, Dickon, and see the City all decorated,” said Ann enviously.

    “Probably Bundy will bring you a new cob and you will ride next behind Edward with Uncle Gloucester,” said Elizabeth.

    “And when you get back to the Tower you will be able to see all the lions and bears and tigers in the menagerie there,” added Cicely, goodnaturedly gathering round with the others to cheer him. “Don't you remember telling us how Dorset took you and Edward to see them fed and even showed you how the keepers shot the bolts of their cages?”

    “Why, yes, it was as interesting as the printing press, and there was an ingenious kind of master bolt that could be worked from outside in case they turned savage,” recalled Richard, his alert young brain being easily diverted by such things.

    “You said they were called the King's beasts, so they must be Ned's very own lions now,” lisped Katherine, round-eyed with awe.

    “Yes, poppet, but I don't suppose he is allowed to go and look at them. Our half-brother isn't Constable of the Tower any more,” remembered Richard forlornly.

    “Why not?” demanded Ann, who had entertained hopes of being taken to see the fearsome lions herself.

    “Because one of the first things Uncle Gloucester did when he reached London was to relieve Dorset of his command and to put Sir Robert Brackenbury in his place,” Elizabeth told her.

    “Well, Sir Robert is very kind,” said Cicely. “Perhaps he will show them to you, Dickon.”

    The idea seemed to cheer him for a while, but their mother was still arguing with the beautifully arrayed churchmen. “Brothers have been brothers' bane, so how can nephews be sure of their uncles?” they could hear her contending in that penetrating voice of hers. “And I have such deadly enemies.”

    Whatever they thought, it seemed they were too pitiful to remind her that she herself had made most of them. “Madam, though this forward generation may nibble at our privileges, Holy Church is not without considerable power,” the Archbishop comforted her.

    “I know well your good intent and believe you can keep them safe if you will,” agreed the Queen at last, with a profound sigh. “But if you think that I fear overmuch, take care that you, milords, do not fear too little!” She called Richard to her and, placing a hand on either of his shoulders, gave him a little push towards them. “To your care I commit him—Richard, Duke of York, the late King's younger son—and of your hands before God and man I shall require him again.”

    Frightened by her anguish and by the churchmen's solemn faces, Richard felt the budding manhood he had clung to so desperately deserting him. He turned his back on them and caught at her dress. For weeks her foolishly outspoken fears had been playing upon his sensitive nerves, sapping his courage;