15 Queen of the North by Anne O’Brien

Author:Anne O’Brien
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: HarperCollinsPublishers
Published: 2018-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Alnwick Castle: March 1403

‘Persuade him,’ I urged Harry.

‘And how do you suggest I do that, since we are barely on speaking terms?’

I did not know how, only that it was essential, for without the concurrence of the Earl of Northumberland in this enterprise, all could fall by the wayside. Glyn Dwr might glitter with present success, the spring weather luring him from Sycharth to attack the Welsh March once more, doubtless Edmund at his side, but to take on the English crown alone and topple Lancaster from his throne would be beyond his powers, as even he would admit.

‘You must have some notion,’ I persisted.

‘I will do it, in my own good time. But don’t interfere.’

I knew better than to do so. I would leave it to Harry, even though my fingers itched to become involved. There were couriers, there were letters received and dispatched. There were raised voices, raking through all the old arguments of where Percy loyalty should lie, until I was weary of it. All I could see was our facile agreement with Glyn Dwr and my brother being ground into dust beneath the Earl’s intransigence.

‘Tell him we’ll go to war without him,’ I said in the end in a moment of unfortunate flippancy.

‘I’ll not. And nor will you.’

So I did nothing until the Earl of Worcester led his smart entourage beneath the entrance to our formidable barbican, and Harry summoned me from my morning tasks.

‘So now come and watch. And listen, faithless one. This is how it is done.’

‘And what would we be doing in the Postern Tower?’ I asked as I accompanied him across the bailey to the distant corner of the curtain wall.

‘Indulging in nefarious alliances, if I am not mistaken.’

Thus the three Percy lords met in the privacy of the Postern Tower where no one would disturb them, as they had so many times before. Northumberland. Worcester. Sir Henry. They were dressed for leisure, great magnates taking their ease in leather and fine wool. Three powerful and wealthy men with family interests to discuss. No weapons; no elements of war were present. A brindled hound curled by the hearth. And one Percy wife sat at the window, astonished that we had ever come to this point of agreement.

The Percy magnates clasped hands.

No oath made, no words of intent spoken. A silent Percy agreement that was unshakable. Owain Glyn Dwr had his alliance. The Earl of March had his army that could bring him to the throne.

I watched them as I dispensed cups of wine to seal the intent, for there were no servants present.

What had, in the end, persuaded the Earl? What had finally tipped him over the edge from royal counsellor into treason? A dislike of Lancaster’s high-handedness. A detestation of being called to account for his son’s behaviour, the humiliation of it all when Harry was his own man and followed his own inclinations. The royal expectation that the Percy family would continue to protect the north at their own expense.

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