01 Dark Queen Rising by Paul Doherty

01 Dark Queen Rising by Paul Doherty

Author:Paul Doherty
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
ISBN: 9781780291079
Publisher: Severn House Publishers
Published: 2018-05-17T23:00:00+00:00


PART FOUR

‘I trust to God that the two dukes of Clarence and Gloucester shall be settled as one by the word of the King.’

The Paston Letters

Christopher Urswicke sat on the cushioned stool. He studied the gold-blue and silver tapestry from Arras which adorned the wall above the mantled hearth in the countess’s private chamber at her husband’s mansion overlooking the Thames. No fire had been lit as the weather had turned decisively warm, although outside the light was fading as a rainstorm swept up the Thames. Urswicke stared at the tapestry, which depicted a pelican standing on a gilt-edged chalice, stabbing its breast to draw blood and so feed its young nestling in the bowl beneath: a well-known parable representing Christ giving himself under the appearance of bread and wine in the Eucharist. The four corners of the tapestry were decorated with silver-gold swans, the personal insignia of the House of Stafford. Urswicke heard Countess Margaret sigh and watched his mistress dab her eyes with a small hand cloth, which she then folded neatly and placed on the table beside her.

‘Where is Reginald?’ she asked.

‘On some business or other,’ Urswicke replied evasively. He had asked Bray to take over his watch whilst he stayed with the old King’s corpse as it was moved from St Paul’s to Chertsey.

‘The Lord’s Anointed.’ Margaret pointed to the tapestry. ‘Just as sacred as that emblem, Henry VI was our King, sealed with the holy chrism. He wore the crown of the Confessor, and yet what degradation Clarence and Mauclerc inflicted on his royal corpse.’

Urswicke nodded. He had reported what had happened at Chertsey, though he refused to divulge some of the more macabre details such as pig bones being mixed amongst the remains of Quintain. Apparently the Kentish captain had been hanged, drawn and quartered on the great cobbled expanse before Newgate, where the slaughterers plied their trade. At the end of the execution, some of the offal lying around must have been mingled with Quintain’s severed limbs.

‘They will be punished for that,’ Margaret murmured. ‘Mauclerc, the Three Kings and, of course, that demon in human flesh, George of Clarence.’ She paused. Urswicke was struck by the fierceness of her expression, which had transformed the countess’s usual pale, narrow face into that of some warrior woman intent on battle. Urswicke turned at a knock at the door and Bray slipped into the chamber.

‘Well?’ Margaret asked. ‘I know you have been busy on my behalf. You have hinted at that. You have been pursuing the traitor? Have we discovered the truth?’

‘Yes, Mistress,’ Bray replied. ‘We have the truth and I have seen the evidence with my own eyes. You told us to hunt the Judas and we did. Mistress, you are confronted with a sea of woes, you pick your way carefully through a tangle of treason and deep deceit.’ Bray pulled a face. ‘All we are doing is making that less dangerous. We remove the lures, the traps and the snares primed to catch us all.



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